Dominion Rally Call | EE Dominion of Abbaji

[Sinestra]

// COVER: PEP SAVIOLA //
// ASSIGNMENT: ETERNAL EMPIRE SECRET POLICE //
​

Imperial design carried its similarities across the various different governments following that ideal, be it the First Order, the Sith Empire, Galactic Empire and the Eternal Empire. Polished, perfect and intimidating. When he served as a simple comms stormtrooper in the First Order, back when he was young and green, Jude had trouble with adapting to the confines of the white armor. While it wasn't any different now, he didn't need to improvise to act as a loyal imperial follower. After all, he had recently been one.

"Roger that." he replied to Helos Gaunt a.k.a Deacon. Pep pointed at a computer terminal to the side and called out to his co-conspirator. "Take the right flank."

Undercover missions were the worst. Little reward, high risk.

Deacon
Kainan Wolfe Corran Conner

 

[Fulcrum]

// COVER: HELOS GAUNT, BLACKWATCH AGENT //
// ASSIGNMENT: ETERNAL EMPIRE SECRET POLICE //
​

"On it," Deacon saw the terminal and started sprinting while Sinestra covered him with las rifle fire, putting on a good show for their erstwhile comrades.

He was uncomfortable in the bulky shock trooper armor. Agent Darksword was far more used to camo suits or crisp Imperial uniforms. It took a lot of skill to make your aim look precise and still hit nothing, and that's exactly what he did as soon as he reached his position. The local guerillas were if not allies then fighting for the same cause. Deacon wasn't about to gun any of them down in cold blood if he could help it. He couldn't speak for 'Saviola'.

In between sweeps of his rifle Helos Gaunt fished out a data spike and plugged it in to the terminal. The OPA brand virus began infecting systems but it was a subtle beast. They weren't out to take control of the network, not yet. ORION knew very little about Eternal Empire HoloNet protocols. This was preliminary data gathering. If the rebels had found an exploit here maybe they could use it in the future elsewhere.

 

[Sinestra]

// COVER: PEP SAVIOLA //
// ASSIGNMENT: ETERNAL EMPIRE SECRET POLICE //
​

Saviola sprayed cover fire erratically, he wasn't sure he could 'precisely' miss. The agent just hoped the rebels weren't stupid enough not to duck from his fire but he hoped more that they don't head shot him cause that would be quite an ironic death.

When Gaunt reached the terminal, Saviola moved deliberately to a position where he could obstruct others' view of what Gaunt was actually doing.

"How's it lookin' ?" Falkrowe whispered through the helm loud enough for him to hear through the cacophony of battle in their midst.

 

[Fulcrum]

// COVER: HELOS GAUNT, BLACKWATCH AGENT //
// ASSIGNMENT: ETERNAL EMPIRE SECRET POLICE //
​

"For the glory of our Emperor!" he roared.

Gaunt glanced down at the terminal. Of course the cheap outer rim data spike was slow as hell.

"Halfway there," the infiltrator swept his rifle back and forth as if looking for targets.

He looked up at Sinestra .

"The soldiers on the roof," he leaned over to Saviola, "When we came in. Those were Ultranauts. There must be an Imperial commander around here."

Deacon let the implication speak for itself. Getting first hand intel on Eternal Empire leadership seemed worth the risk of taking a closer look.

 

[Sinestra]

// COVER: PEP SAVIOLA //
// ASSIGNMENT: ETERNAL EMPIRE SECRET POLICE //​

"For His Glory!" Saviola growled but it came out more sarcastic than he expected. Okay, let's leave tryharding to goggles boy.

"Right, might could be." he nodded. Getting a first person overview of an Imperial head honcho's abilities was incredibly value intel for a dossier. Analysts drooled over such data.

Jude cleared his throat. "Hurry the feth up, they're pushing in. Can't lag behind."

If there was anything he missed about the FOSB, it was the state of the art technology.

 

[Kainan Wolfe]

Post #3
Attn: Race Tolsen || Mitth'rae'leios || LE-03 (Leigh) || Loreena Arenais-Valhoun || Mythos || Corran Conner || Lorelai Ventira || Lord Malleus || Deacon || Sinestra || Kalic Daws || Open​

<"Taking fire, taking fire!>" reported one of the dive bombers before it went up in a ball of flame, disintegrating into several pieces as its ordnance detonated. The second bomber swerved and ducked, using its maneuverability to avoid the Y-Wing's cannons. The Imperial forces reacted quickly, one of the I-3A lance fighters diverting from its patrol route to dive down from the clouds, its targeting computer trying to lock onto Kalic Daws Y-Wing so as to launch a torpedo at it.

Down on the ground, the Imperial soldiers were moving with the same precise efficiency, advancing from hallway to hallway, swiftly neutralizing the guerrillas they encountered. One of the assault teams swiftly met up with Sinestra and Deacon , none the wiser to their true identity, although their commander had not missed their... odd comms chatter. The two spies were right, there was a high-ranking commander present on the ground. And he rarely missed anything.

Spearheading the assault, the Sith Lord would not have looked out of place amongst the rest of his soldiers if it were not for the white color of his armor and the uniform beneath it, the rank bars on his shoulders identifying him as none other than Darth Tacitus, the Eternal Emperor, himself. Intrigued by the two spies' comms chatter, he decided to investigate. Imperial soldiers, Blackwatch or not, did not go around shouting 'for the glory of the Emperor', or other such nonsense. They were far too professional for that.

"<You two,>" he commanded, his gravel-like voice distorted by his helmet. "<State your names and rank and report,>" the Emperor ordered in the precise, business-like tone of a seasoned officer. In High Nelvaanian, the official language of the Eternal Empire.

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Objective: 1

Lori felt the presence of another. It was almost as though the Force called out to her and was giving her a head's up. And from what she could tell, they weren't hostile.

The door opened then, though her hand still went to her blaster at the sight of Adelle Bastiel . "What do you--" Lori stopped talking the moment that she got the warning. There was no more time to hesitate. "Arla, we gotta go!"

But Arla seemed to nearly be a step ahead of her. She was already running down the steps. "They've blocked communications, Captain! We'll have to finish it the old--" She drew her blaster at Adelle, but Lori was quick to get in the way.

"Don't we've gotta run and get back to the Sparrow."

Arla lowered her blaster and nodded in acknowledgement before stepping towards the door. "Follow me then, Captain. And stay close." She exited the building, her eyes scanning the area for hostiles before moving to the next available cover.

Lori beckoned Adelle to follow. "We're going to need some way to get past their ships. If this is anything like Bakura, then they'll have blocked the system." She only hoped that they didn't deploy gravity wells. But she had help from an unlikely source. So no doubt something was thought of ahead of time.

The young woman gestured for her to follow them. Adelle shook her head, an odd motion for a helmet under a hood. ::Not without what I came here for.::

She turned and headed deeper into the facility. Based on what she'd seen of the Empire's efficiency, she had a little under ten minutes to pull the file from the network. Their ships would be in orbit by now, and surely Emperor Tacitus was ordering a detachment of troops to the planet's surface, if not leading them himself. Adelle followed her HUD guidance system to the secondary control room and pulled a small device from a pouch on her belt. She connected it to the control panel's terminal interface and let it run. Leigh had devised a couple viruses meant to scramble the systems and add a bit of delay to help her escape. A couple controls punched, and she had the outer security cams on the screens in the small room.

Post #2
Attn: Race Tolsen || Mitth'rae'leios || LE-03 (Leigh) || Loreena Arenais-Valhoun || Mythos || Corran Conner || Lorelai Ventira || Lord Malleus || Cero Pax || Adelle Bastiel || Open​

• Abbaji, Unknown Regions

The dropships slammed into the atmosphere in typical Imperial fashion, lifting their noses up perpendicular to the planet in order to position themselves so as to create as much drag as possible. Painting the sky in angry, red streaks, the Imperial vessels executed an extraordinarily difficult, high-G maneuver known as a combat drop, decelerating from hypersonic to subsonic speed in a matter of seconds, bringing their trajectory down so as to descend almost vertically on top of the structure below.

As they decelerated, several triangular shapes plummeted past them, I-4V dive bombers targeting the relay's anti-air defenses with high precision air strikes, Jericho sirens wailing their terrible, haunting songs as they cut a path across the sky, dropping ion bombs on top of the relay's air defense towers to take them out and clear a path for the incoming dropships, which dispersed chaff and smokescreens to make it harder for those towers that were still active to target them.

Within minutes, the blocky, rugged dropships descended upon the base in a three-pronged assault, two vessels landing at the entrance of the facility, while one assaulted the base's hangar and a fourth hovered above the rooftop, blast doors sliding open and releasing ropes upon which Tacitus, along with his Ultranauts and Combat Engineers rappelled down towards the ceiling, the latter swiftly deploying breaching charges to create entry points. Similar scenes unfolded at the entrance and in the hangar, the assault teams breaching into the facility using explosives and linking up with Imperial personnel already within.

This initial part was easy, however the facility had been designed to resist such an assault. There would be other blast doors past the first ones, much more durable and capable of withstanding explosive charges and even lightsabers, due to their sheer thickness. However, this would not stop the Imperials, who knew their way inside and out and had designed every system within the facility. On Tacitus' orders, the Combat Engineers swiftly popped open a few pannels and, clipping and repurposing some wiring, patched their own equipment into the base's security system, uploading programs into the facility's network that began to slice into its security features layer by layer. Soon, the Imperials would be through. And they would subject the rebels to a horrible fate, should they accomplish their objective to capture them.

Kalic had been late to the party, held up by some stupid engine issues. That last fight did a number on her before, but Kalic had to move. The Starcrest shot through the air, her twin ion and ion-jet engines whining and roaring as she flew towards the comms tower. Kalic looked, seeing the dive bombers coming in. He wouldn't let them get too far.

"Jee! Prep the turret. We're hitting them with everything we got!" The astromech whistled, and the turret turned forward. The heavily modified Y-Wing quickly darted towards the dive bombers, her TIEs screaming louder than the Jericho Horns the bombers possessed. The cannons opened up, the turret and main weapons each targeting a different bomber. After this first pass, Kalic pulled the fighter around, taking aim again. He was going to protect his friends, no matter what.

Kainan Wolfe Loreena Arenais-Valhoun Adelle Bastiel Cero Pax Corran Conner Viktor Goetz Mythos Mitth'rae'leios LE-03 (Leigh) Race Tolsen

Adelle hissed and held onto the control panel as the building shook. She thanked whatever gods there were that Imperials needed their structures mostly impenetrable. She watched the progress bar on her device, silently willing it to download the file faster. Tacitus was here. Gods help the rebels that hadn't gotten here already.

She rubbed her thumb over the beacon at her waist. Gods help her.


Loreena Arenais-Valhoun | Kainan Wolfe | LE-03 (Leigh)

 

[Loreena Arenais-Valhoun]

Objective: 1

Adelle Bastiel was quick to head back inside. Lori would've done the same if it weren't for Arla grabbing hold of her arm with an almost vice-like grip and pulling her away. "This is no time for heroics, Captain. Live to fight another day."

Lori grumbled under her breath but went along with her bodyguard and co-pilot. She didn't really have another choice. More Eternal Empire soldiers began to arrive and they did their best to dodge them on their way to Jaster's Sparrow. As they moved through the trees, Lori was certain that Arla had gotten a copy of that message to share with others that she knew that could help her rebel against the tyrant warlord Kainan Wolfe . He needed to be stopped. Deep inside, she felt that his rule would come to an end; one way or another.

Coming to the Jaster' Sparrow, Arla was already in communication with it. She had interfaced with the ship on her first day. The two almost worked as one. Arla had it unlocked and the pair fled inside through the cargobay door. Quicker than any human could manage, the disguised assassin droid ran up to the cockpit and planted herself in the pilot's chair. She flicked on the switches for pre-flight and turned the Jaster's Sparrow on. "Hurry up, Captain! Preparing for take-off!"

"I'm coming! I'm coming!" Lori was nearly out of breath as she finally made it inside the cockpit. As soon as she was in the co-pilot's chair, Arla hit the thruster and lifted Jaster' Sparrow out of the trees. She spun it at a 90 degree angle before bringing the nose up and hitting the accelorator to bring the Mantis-class vessel out into orbit.

Lori buckled herself in, her eyes drawn to the fleet just ahead of them. "They've made a blockade. Arla, is there any way that we could sneak through?"

"I'm looking." Arla searched the sensors, mapping out the area. She didn't need to look at the navigation screen. "They've deployed gravity wells. Although some seem almost stationary. If we ease ourselves in between them, their opposing gravitational pulls might have trouble latching onto us. Once we're clear, we can make a jump."

It was super risky. But if successful, it'd be worth it. There was a lot at play and a lot at risk, yet they had to try. "Do it, Arla. We have to try."

"Understood, Captain." As Arla set about to initiate her plan, both crossed their fingers. They were going to need all the luck that they could get.

 

[Mitth'rae'leios]

~ ~ ~
​

Desperation. The greatest infection that could befall that of a cornered adversary.

The concept, however, in it's own validity was not without the fault of any such interpretation of general motive. For one to be desperate, to be without consistently feasible and rational option, one often required a particular arrangement of circumstances. Often, though not entirely necessary. It was such circumstances that were often named as lack of resources, failure to achieve victory or even a narrow path to their expected or desired goal. Though to truly understand which of those particular elements were those in direct cause of an individuals, or groups, desperation it was often pertinent to dig directly to the core of the source.

A matter which often turned bloody or destructive in matter of intergalactic conflict; better put for the simpler mind: War.

"Admiral, we have a signature coming off a ship that has left the surface and entered orbit." The captain shouted from his position near the bridge scanning array, his expression showing a mild concern to accompany the reduction in his body temperature. While the Chiss did not fully know the extent of the details, he had already begun to make assumptions and analyses as to the origin and purpose of such a remotely astray ship. "Shall we engage it, sir?"

As the captain asked his question, his body starting to warm up to it's normal levels, the Chiss continued to hold it's posture in analyzing the view through the bridge viewport. What little could be assumed of such a small craft? Of the pilot guiding it through enemy infested space? Or even of those that may, or may not, have been associated with the aspirations of the ship in question? Each question was of relevance in the Chiss' mind, but each question only remained in the complexity that they only answered themselves with more questions.

"Have you scanned the ship, captain?" Thrael asked, his breath slow and crisp as his eyes wandered the length of the viewport before they finally came to rest down upon the captain's face. He watched the captain go rigid, watched as he began to flush in his already closer proximity to the command balcony. "The Emperor made a very distinct command that each ship that was not broadcasting imperial codes or signals should be boarded and the occupants interrogated. More still, that ship appears to be too small to be acting as part of an imperial unit. Nor does it appear to hold any particular design that I have seen within the empire. And so, it is my presumption that that ship is neither imperial nor of any association with Abbaji itself.

Furthermore, I am mildly concerned with your lacking show of focus on such details. As such I see fit that I must make the commands on such matters myself." The Chiss hissed as he slowly began to make his way down from the balcony and towards the center of the command bridge. Perhaps it was the valuable passengers that were on board his ship, or even the disappointment he was beginning to feel in his own command, but it was clear to everyone on the bridge that through his icy and seemingly indiscernible appearance the Chiss was far from pleasant in his contemplation.

As he reached the console manned by the comms officer, Thrael began to put in a set of various scrambled codes. The first directed to a number of ships that still remained outside the system. The second to the officer in command of the hangar to initiate the deployment of a number of drones with the intention of guiding the unknown ship towards a desired location. Finally, the third, a message directly to the staff in charge of manning the tractor beams that had, until then, remained offline for the sake of preserving a reservoir of power.

Only once each message had been delivered, and the comms officer visibly baffled and cloaked in unease, did Thrael once again begin to make his way back towards the command balcony; his methods once again put into action.

"I suggest you watch and observe, captain," the Chiss breathed with a hint of agitation, as he took his position facing the viewport once more. "And understand just how a plan and course of action are taken into full effect. While you were concerned with the more vast and, otherwise, trivial aspects of this enterprise I was beginning the ground work for a maneuver that might help us catch even the first possible escaping ship with even an inkling of suspicion. You'll do well to remember each detail as this unfolds, for it will only be given in this opportunity once."

With that spoken and the small ship beginning to make it's way into orbit and towards, what he had predicted, the small gap between the gravity wells projected by the various ships in orbit, a number of drones numbering towards ten or twelve began to make their way out of the hangar. They did not fire directly with intent to hit the small ship in an obvious fashion, their shots aimed to graze the shields or push the ship towards a desired path while maintaining the intent to maim and disable. It would only be as the ship began to reach it's desired point of contact with uninterdicted space that the true revelation made itself known.

As the ship breached the interdiction zone, and possibly prepared to make it's jump to hyperspace, a pair of interdiction destroyers would drop from hyperspace between the desired path and the small ship itself. A womp rat trapped in a canyon with no exit to be had, a krayt dragon looming to one side and a pack of banthas on the other. It was a rough and potentially uncouth metaphor but one that fit none the less. He wanted nothing to be left to chance, and nothing would.

"Lieutenant, you may begin to lock onto that ship with our tractor beams once the ship has realized it's position is compromised." The Chiss mused as he laid his finger carefully upon a small on his own personal comms unit. "Lady Silara, if you would be so kind as to accompany me upon the bridge. Post-haste."

It was now only a matter of time.

~ ~ ~​

ATTN: Vyra Silara | Vidalu Na'an | Loreena Arenais-Valhoun

 

[Loreena Arenais-Valhoun]

Objective: 1

"We've got incoming!"

Lori understood what that meant. Fighters. "I'm on it!" With Arla steering the Jaster's Sparrow, Lori manned the guns. The two had fought in dogfights before, mostly over Commenor against the Sith Empire. This was no different. They both worked in tandem, Arla making evasive maneuvers needed to give Lori better shots at the drones that attacked them. They couldn't afford to deviate from their course. Not with those gravity wells blocking their way.

Five....Six....Seven...

Lori counted in her head the number of drones taken out. Everyone liked to keep score and the young spacer was no different.

"Almost there, Captain! I'm preparing to make the jump n--" Arla's voice cut off the second that the two Destroyers came into view to block them. The remaining drones peeled off, leaving the Jaster's Sparrow to stare down the two ships that easily dwarfed the small Mantis-class vessel. "Lori?"

It wasn't often that Arla called her by name. Usually that was saved for times of high stress and worry. Lori's brows furrowed as she stared at the Destroyers, clenching her hands into fists. "Bring her nose straight up and we'll go up above them. I bet they won't be expecting that. Most don't think in sphere's when they fight. They just go straight." She ensured that her buckled were on tight as she sat back in her seat. "Floor it! NOW!!"

Arla did as she was ordered, bringing the Jaster's Sparrow up at a 90 degree angle and punching the accelorator. Only instead of the expected g-force to push them into their seats, there was only a shudder.

Tractor beams. Not just one, but two held the Jaster's Sparrow in place, locking it in position.

"Don't let them get that data, Arla...Whatever you do. I'll think of something to get us out of here."

"Understood Lori...But these aren't your common space pirates. You've gotta be careful. If they know that we were at Bakura..."

"I know. Hopefully they won't know. I'll get us out of this." Or so she hoped.

Mitth'rae'leios Vyra Silara Kainan Wolfe

 

[Vidalu Na'an]

She rose from the chair, hands folded in front of her as she paced a bit in front of the viewport. “The Bakura operation was…flawed, the execution far too aggressive,” she began cautiously, her tone cool and business-like, though Na’an could surely see the opposite on her face. “I understand this uprisings driving motive, I do. We did reach out first to pursue a more diplomatic route, but diplomacy is NOT the Empire’s strength. I’ve been working to change that, but it does take time. …Everything takes time.”

...Flawed? That was Vyra Silara's interpretation of the orders given on Bakura? Of the orders given to fire on civilian protestors--men, women, and children alike? Of the unilateral decision to slaughter a government that had already surrendered, but hadn't thought to slaughter their own people? It had been recorded. Hells, the recordings of those orders had been folded directly into the transmission! None of that could be debated. The idea that her old friend could so easily say that the events of Bakura were merely flawed--a tragic 'failure of attempted diplomacy'--

Na'an's fingers dug harder into her wrist--not deeply enough to bleed, but only just. The sharp pain in the flesh of her arm made her wince, but it was all that kept her tongue in line, and her mind on the present instead of on the memory of too-small bodies in alleys and the smell of burning flesh.

"Time, huh," she did allow herself, looking out the viewport rather than at Vyra. Just outside, she could see odd collections of ships, fighters and freighters weaving desperately through the empire's hail of fire. "I wonder what these people think taking their time would bring them."

The recording played in the background of the resulting silence, providing what Na'an thought was more than enough answer.

If you wait for a softer or gentler road to appear, for a negative peace, all that will happen is that you will die waiting.
​

No one had ever really appreciated how capable LE-03 was of poetry.

With that spoken and the small ship beginning to make it's way into orbit and towards, what he had predicted, the small gap between the gravity wells projected by the various ships in orbit, a number of drones numbering towards ten or twelve began to make their way out of the hangar. They did not fire directly with intent to hit the small ship in an obvious fashion, their shots aimed to graze the shields or push the ship towards a desired path while maintaining the intent to maim and disable. It would only be as the ship began to reach it's desired point of contact with uninterdicted space that the true revelation made itself known.

As the ship breached the interdiction zone, and possibly prepared to make it's jump to hyperspace, a pair of interdiction destroyers would drop from hyperspace between the desired path and the small ship itself. A womp rat trapped in a canyon with no exit to be had, a krayt dragon looming to one side and a pack of banthas on the other. It was a rough and potentially uncouth metaphor but one that fit none the less. He wanted nothing to be left to chance, and nothing would.

"Lieutenant, you may begin to lock onto that ship with our tractor beams once the ship has realized it's position is compromised." The Chiss mused as he laid his finger carefully upon a small on his own personal comms unit. "Lady Silara, if you would be so kind as to accompany me upon the bridge. Post-haste."

It was now only a matter of time.

The message had played once more, filling the terrible silence now hanging between them, before being interrupted by the static of activating comms. Na'an had perked up at the sound of the commander's voice, a Chiss she had heard spoken of only in passing before the crisis on Abbaji had replaced itself. What did a commander want with Vyra Silara--a diplomat with no real military experience--in the midst of a military operation?

What point was the Empire trying to drill home into the mind of the Empress Apparent now?

Well, Na'an would find out soon enough. She was, like it or not, this woman's guard. She'd have to come along to the bridge too. "Milady," she murmured, prying her fingernails loose and flexing her palm. As she waited for orders, she rolled her sleeve down over the half-moon indents dug into her wrist, and prayed that Leigh and Doc were at least in a position to do some actual good for the people they had reached.

Loreena Arenais-Valhoun | Vyra Silara | Mitth'rae'leios​

 

[LE-03 (Leigh)]

The Golden Knight may be a pretentious name for a ship, Leigh supposed, but boarding it for this engagement had been a success in her risk assessment algorithms. As the droid made her way into the security offices and logged into a terminal, she had noted that the size of the ship meant that she rarely, if ever, encountered personnel with the clearance to question her presence, let alone the inclination. With the few officers assigned to the office now fighting tooth-and-nail to block her message from being played outside the system, she was able to slip in in almost completely without notice. Even the terminal--one marked for decommissioning due to 'imperfect relay connections', would serve her purposes--she could access whatever she wanted from here under the pretenses of testing and repair.

Her first act was to tap into as many comm channels as she could find. Toggling their output into visual channels, she partitioned the console to keep the feed running as she pushed her way silently into other systems. The tactics of the ship commanders were, on the whole, relatively efficient--prioritize electronic jamming to prevent replay offworld, deploy ground troops to secure or destroy the tower, flood the sky with enough ships to choke out any chance of escape. Interestingly enough, many of these transmissions already referred to the assorted vessels and ragtag individuals already on Abbaji by a cohesive name--one seemingly cobbled from a throwaway line at the end of her own message.

Eclipse Rebellion, she mused to herself, making a point to turn off her audio processors. Not even an official organization and they already have a name. Someone at the upper levels of the Empire is feeling threatened.

She would have to tell Na'an and Miss Bastiel later. Na'an, at least, would find that funny.

But that would have to wait. The fighters were her primary concern now. Fortunately, there was a relatively simple tweak the droid could make, that might provide some gaps in the curtain of durasteel and blasterfire. When docked, the targeting and navigation computers of a battlecruiser's fighter complement were hooked into a unified computer system, allowing for quick standardization and calibration procedures. For a unified military, this was normally a benefit, allowing pilot training to be streamlined rather than trying to specialize each pilot to a single unit.

A being with sufficient slicing capability, however, could access the network that stored such calibration standards and....adjust them.

The tricky parts to such a plan were twofold--bypassing the security settings on such a network, then knowing exactly what kinds of adjustments would be able to escape notice. Too subtle an alteration would fail to affect the fighter's navigation or targeting programs at all, while too drastic a change would brick the fighter entirely and give itself away. The trick was to make a change that, while not visibly hampering the fighter from operating, would create just enough of a lag that most pilots would struggle to keep up in a dogfight, let alone corner or hit their opponent.

The security issue could be ignored as long as the attempted slicer was using a console from the security office. That was why Leigh was here--their admin permissions were high enough to not even leave a digital footprint. The question of subtlety...was far easier to answer for a droid. Droid minds were far more precise, after all, than organic ones.

Leigh tapped away at the console, opening and closing window after window after window, watching her feed of Empire commanders as she wormed her way through The Golden Knight's entire fighter complement. Hopefully, the newborn Eclipse Rebellion had members with enough intelligence to observe the gap.

Race Tolsen | Kalic Daws | Loreena Arenais-Valhoun ​

 

[Shavara]

Objective 1.
Location: Abbaji
Actions: The tower.
People nearby: Adelle Bastiel

Her arrival on the new world was, admittedly, incredibly disorienting. The people outside of Vran'Ti had less guarded thoughts she noticed. More willing to criticize authority and each other. More willing to think thoughts. It was strange really, and it was also incredibly convenient for the girl. As she had an easier time deciphering where she needed to go without having to ask a single quesiton. This was perhaps a bit intrusive from the perspective of some, but where she was from, a Vo Ni had the authority to perceive the thoughts of others. They spoke for the soul, and so it was important that they understood it. She made her way through the crowds, focusing to keep herself from being easily seen and noticed. Hiding her real appearance by subtly removing her cloak and wrapping it around her, shifting her body, and then using illusions to fill in the gaps by altering the colors and texture appearances of her clothes. While this did require her attention, the simplicity of the illusion meant it didn't need much and was more a sub-effort than a focus. Leaving her able to continue on her search. The imperial troops however were already beginning to fill in and she didn't have the time to act like a normal person. So she chose to keep heavily to the shadows, again using the force to further decrease any signs she actually was there.

In her approach of the building however, things were clearly becoming hectic. And her decision to hide her true identity was becoming ever so much more apparent to be a good choice for the moment. As the forces of the Empire were only growing more threatening by the moment. She began to hurry, concern growing in her about the decision she had made. She held no good will towards the empire so attempting to sabotage them was only beneficial. But that didn't mean her actions didn't somewhat scare her. She'd left her home, and that alone was something that was a little scary. Let alone this rebellion she'd...joined? Technically there was not a lot of joining done, she was just doing what was prompted.

However her rush to the building slowed considerably as the military presence just kept on increasing, even recognizing that a force was repelling into the building. Fear tried to rush through her, she had to force herself to maintain the false appearance while simultaneously pushing her presence from those who might look at her. She glanced around hurriedly, looking for an entrance point. There were vents, those she recognized. She made her way around, then shifting matter around her fingers into dense bone like structures and using those to climb the building with considerable haste before tearing the grate off and slipping inside, pulling the grate in behind her. She released the illussions finally, and wrapped her cloak around herself properly. Allowing her to focus on senses and the minds of those attempting to get in, or already inside. She made her way through trying to figure out where to go until she sensed another mind. It felt more obscured then the others, but it was there.

She breathed in, making her way closer to wherever that was, then using the force to pry open the vent allowing her to drop down onto the ground so she could rush her way there instead. When she began to grow close she slowed again, making her feet soft and spongelike to absorb every bit of sound they made while stepping closer and closer to the room. She breathed in, she had to make a decision, and she was making it now. She glanced inside to see who was there and hoped it was not a military personal, but in fact a rebel, so she could download whatever it is she was supposed to. And maybe get in contact with them.

Equipment: shavaras-robes

 

[Fulcrum]

// COVER: HELOS GAUNT, BLACKWATCH AGENT //
// ASSIGNMENT: ETERNAL EMPIRE SECRET POLICE //
​

"<State your names and rank and report,>"

Deacon turned and saw Kainan Wolfe . His eyes widened beneath the advanced combat helm. He straightened to rigid attention standing in between the Eternal Emperor and his data spike which was now at almost ninety percent. Here's hoping his study of their language was at least passable for a native.

"Agent Helos Gaunt of Blackwatch, sir. Hangars are secure, these insurgents aren't going anywhere. We were making sure there was no lingering resistance before linking back up with our team further in."

He wanted to glance over at Sinestra but could not. This wasn't exactly what he had meant by getting eyes on an Imperial commander. Zakuul's karking Emperor himself was standing only meters away from him. Every instinct screamed to take his chances but assassination wasn't their mission. It had taken a lot of resources just to insert two of them into the Imperial military complex with convincing enough documentation.

If they couldn't maintain their cover it would mean starting all over again.

 

[Sinestra]

// COVER: PEP SAVIOLA //
// ASSIGNMENT: ETERNAL EMPIRE SECRET POLICE //
​

Deacon, as far as he vaguely knew, was an experienced undercover agent. Funnily he wondered whether the man had been inserted undercover in the FOSB back when. Not really something he had much to linger thinking about actually, since the freaking Emperor showed up. So while Deacon was far more prepared for playing undercover methodically, Jude Falkrowe was unorthodox asset working through improvisations.

And he, sure as hell, had no clue what the hell this man was saying as whatever language he was speaking was completely alien to the ex-FOSB special agent.

Gaunt replied something but Falkrowe was completely out of the loop and his Lorrdian heritage of kinetic communication revealed to him that things weren't really going in their favor.

He had only one option.

Pep Saviola, loyal to the core to the Emperor, dropped his guise and kicked hard at the Emperor's crotch. Whatever happened, he didn't wait to find out as Jude Falkrowe started fleeing pulling Deacon with him.

Kainan Wolfe
Deacon

 

[Vyra Silara]

​

Relief washed over her. Vyra was glad for the interruption, letting go of the heartfelt truth she’d been struggling not to give voice to as the silence between them thickened. A single touch of her comms let their host know his message was received. She shouldn’t speak more of it, should let it fade away and the unspoken words settle back under her surface, but…she couldn’t leave it like that. She just couldn’t.

“Rebels and revolutions will not stop the Empire,” she began quietly, her words blunt but her tone gentle as she faced her old friend, taking quick note of the marks on her wrists as the sleeve unfurled to hide them. “The more one pushes, the harder the other will push back because neither side refuses to give, and all they are doing is fanning each other’s flames.” There was a steely empathy in her dark eyes. “But.. the Empire cannot stop the rebels, either. They’re an idea, a…hope. You can kill hope. It just never stays dead because it’s not dependent on outside forces. It’s a choice, as you know. A perspective. And it’s powerful, more powerful than the Empire understands.” Her smile barely showed, but it was there. “And if there’s a solution that doesn’t perpetuate this cycle we find ourselves locked in, I shall find it.”

There was more. So much more to say. But she couldn’t. Not here. Nothing she’d said was entirely too dangerous. Her ‘soft heart and weak perspectives’ were fairly known in court, and she’d shared them with no shame and little fear, but it wouldn’t do to add even more wood to her pyre. “For now, we mustn’t keep our host waiting. His patience is legendary, apparently, but we’re not here to test it.”

She headed for the door, pausing before it opened to gather her poise. Vyra clasped her hands in front of her, threw her shoulders back, lifted her chin to view the world head-on, and marched over the threshold at a determined pace.

__________________________________________________________​

The pair arrived on the bridge shortly after, as post-haste as was expected of a monarch. “Admiral,” came the short, formal greeting as Vyra glided across the deck to stand at his side. Na’an would be expected to stay close and remain attentive, and while Vyra usually encouraged the woman to listen and speak her mind openly, she’d suggested caution before entering.

She glanced at Thrael with a small, cool smile and a respectful nod before fixing her dark eyes on the action outside the viewport. “I’ve been following the developments to the best of my very small ability, but I know when to turn to the experts.” She knew he wouldn’t call her to the bridge for something trivial, and he knew she wasn’t quite as lost as she proclaimed to be. “Please, explain the situation to me. What’s happened?”

|| Vidalu Na'an || Mitth'rae'leios || Loreena Arenais-Valhoun ||

​

 

[Vidalu Na'an]

Of all the arrogant, self-aggrandizing, hypocritical--

Na'an couldn't go back to digging into her own arm, now that her sleeves were back down. She opted instead to bite down on her own tongue--hard. As she walked behind Vyra at a measured pace, her arms clasped professionally behind her back, she found herself mildly surprised that her mouth wasn't filled with the taste of blood. Her grip persisted all the way until the lift door closed behind them, and they began the short trip upwards to the bridge. There at least--as long as she spoke quickly, and less loudly than the sound of the lift itself...

"Let me see if I understand, Milady." she said, in a whispered voice that she barely recognized. Her eye remained fixed on the lift numbers, counting down the precious few seconds she had to speak her mind. "You criticize these rebels for doing, what, exactly? Existing for...four hours, maybe? Not wanting to just lay down and die? All they've done so far is broadcast a single message accurately describing the events of Bakura, and the Empire is already trying to blow anyone even listening out of the sky. Then you claim empathy for them, despite having done, what, exactly, yourself?"

Her steely eye narrowed at that. Oh, she could have gone on that point for days. But no, no--if she went on too long she'd start to get loud, and getting loud now would be the thing that would get her killed for sure. And getting killed would keep her from getting back to Leigh. That meant another bite of her tongue, just a brief nip to keep her voice in control.

"Then you claim that you, and only you, will find the one secret way forward that won't end in bloodshed for anyone. Somehow. Despite the fact that every other opportunity you've had to find the third option out of a hard situation has been....well..." Na'an made an impressive imitation of a non-committal shrug. The fact that bloodshed was already happening could be seen in every viewport this ship had. The fact that Vyra was here, in the Emperor's service and on his arm, slated to be the the Empress and the continuation of his line, believing that the only power she was able to wield was what power the Emperor deigned to give her? That would have to be merely implied.

"But what do I know," she continued. "I'm not a politician, it's not like you ever needed my advice. It just seems like the people out there don't see a reason to wait on you to give them their hope."

The lift opened, revealing a short passageway leading to the bridge deck. The passage was lined with viewports opening to space; Na'an could see the fighters again, dancing in and out of sight between flashes of red and green. As they exited the lift, a freighter exploded to their left, painting the entire passage in a nimbus of firelight. Whoever had been piloting that freighter, Na'an knew, would have died instantly--died in desperate pursuit of the waiting hand promised to them on Abbaji.

"Not when they've found it for themselves."

Vyra Silara | Mitth'rae'leios | Loreena Arenais-Valhoun
​

 

[Mitth'rae'leios]

~ ~ ~
​

There was little to be said. Whether on the matter of the ventures at hand, or the coming conflicts in light of the rising rebellion.

Or so that is what the simpler, less dedicated mind, would place as assessment upon the matter. For, even as he watched the ongoing arrangement of conflict outside the viewport, the Chiss had come to understand that there was more to the elements at play than were simply displayed before him. A single ship fleeing the planet not long after the signal jamming? A signal that should not have existed were the Empire as capable as it claimed to be. He could tell, with but a small margin for the most carefully accommodated error, that these rebels were had valuable support.

Support that he would have to weed out in time with what methods he so chose.

Time he had a plentiful reserve of.

As the captain watched on, his eyes flitting from ship to ship until they fell upon the destroyers blocking the only avenue into open space, the Chiss had already begun to arrange his designs. With each passing moment he played through the various scenarios that he had calculated before his own arrival upon the scene. He had no doubt that, within the Eternal Empire, there were those who opposed the beliefs and actions of the Emperor. No doubt that there were those within the imperial ranks who chose to believe that the Empire had taken measures to the most extensively grotesque at the battle for Bakura.

It was his mind, however, that had spun and woven each and every connection as they became apparent to him. Even those that he dared not share for the sake of expanding upon, and finalizing, his analysis of the rebel design.

For even in their attempts to remain discreet, even the small and well laid designs of the budding rebellion did not escape him.

His attention, though easily split, was diverted as his guests arrived upon the bridge. The sound of the elevators classic hiss as it opened to the area directly behind him an indicator that his time alone, in light of his crew, was cut short. As such, with a shift in his posture to tilt his head towards the approaching Empress Apparent, the Chiss made his acknowledgement of the woman known with merely a flick of his focused gaze before drawing it back towards the spectacle in the viewport.

"Lady Silara," the Chiss breathed as the woman took her place beside him, her guard looming close but with an apparent mild distance. The Nubian woman's words reached him, his breath drawing a mite bit sharper as he registered the intentional degradation of value she placed upon herself in what, he could only assume, was his presence. His breathing, however, returned to normal within the half of a second before the less attentive would have even begun to take notice.

Turning his attention completely to the viewport, his posture returning to the same it had been prior to her arrival, Thrael made a gesture with his hand towards the holo-array that glowed in it's transparency just to their right. Upon it blinked wildly the indicator of a ship that would likely appear to have been snared in a web; a web that would now indicate the ship being brought slowly into the Legacy's hangar.

"What you see there, though fairly ambiguous without the proper appointment of recognition," the Chiss breathed as he pointed a finger gingerly towards the blinking light that was, outside his direct knowledge, Loreena's ship. "Is what I have brought you here to see. And while it may not strike you as such, so you seem to have said, it is our first indicator that this message is not merely a rallying call.

Whereas I believe that we already have rebels established well outside this system." He continued as he turned, fully turning to present himself to the two women as he spoke. "And it is for this very reason that I wish for you to speak with whomever is piloting this ship, pending my initial inquiry, as a means of lowering their guard."

Even as he spoke, his words likely spurring a mild confusion in their minds, he made his way past them towards the elevator.

Elsewhere he knew, via the indication from the holo-array, that the rogue ship had been brought into the hangar bay under the direct supervision of a pair from his personal Death Trooper guard and a pocket of Trandoshans. What those aboard the ship would not know, in anticipation of any measures to avoid detection of a variety of tools and tricks of the smuggling trade, is that the Chiss would have the ship scanned after it had been securely docked into the hangar by both electrical and thermal readings.

"If you'd be so kind as to join me on deck three, where we shall be greeting our guest," the Chiss uttered, as he stepped calmly into the elevator and pressed the button to take him to the aforementioned deck. "You'll find the answer to your inquiry to be far more enlightening than you might expect."

It was not the obvious that intrigued him, nor the well hidden but the unacknowledged and well-mindedly missed entirely that he sought.

It would be what they attempted to neither hide nor share that would be his means of deducing the truth.

ATTN: Vyra Silara | Vidalu Na'an | Loreena Arenais-Valhoun

 

[Loreena Arenais-Valhoun]

Objective: 1

During the trip over to the Legacy's hanger, Lori was quick to hide some of her personal belongings in her quarters. They included her lightsaber and trinkets from Commenor, including her little tiara from her childhood when she was a princess. All were locked away within a secret compartment in the wall beside her bed.

"Best to leave our weapons behind, Captain."

"So does that mean that I'm to leave you behind?" Lori snickered. Despite the current stroke of bad luck, she still found some way to crack a joke. Arla was an assassin droid disguised as a human. She was so advanced that she was capable of fooling scanners.

A loud thud and shudder of the Jaster's Sparrow caused them both to look up. Lori sighed. "Well...wish me luck."

"I wish you luck in not having your mouth get us into trouble."

Lori smirked and then pointed at herself in a mock display of shock.

All fun and games ceased however as their cargobay door was banged upon. Letting out her breath in a huff, Lori slammed her fist onto the button activating the door lock mechanism to open it. To her surprise, there were Trandoshans on board, along with the Death Troopers. She furrowed her brows as she walked down the ramp, lacing her fingers behind her head. Were the Trandoshans there to catch her scent? She hadn't come across them in such close proximity before, but knew well enough of their reputation.

Arla fell in close behind her, copying her Captain's lead. The two of them remained silent during their escorted journey to deck three. Lori expected to be brought to some cell block, yet instead they were brought to some other room, with Vyra Silara standing there. She stuck out like a sore thumb on this military vessel.

Lori lowered her arms to her sides, with Arla following suit "Did they capture you too?"

Mitth'rae'leios Kainan Wolfe

 

[Kainan Wolfe]

Post #4
Attn: Sinestra || Deacon​

"<Check these IDs,>" the Emperor commanded one of his officers. "<Agents Helos Gaunt and->" before the Sith Lord could finish, one of the Blackwatch 'operatives' attempted something so audacious that it seemed ripped straight out of a B-rated comedy holofilm, a kick to the groin of the Eternal Emperor. In the corner of his eyes, Tacitus caught the movement, his unnatural reflexes kicking in before the impostor'd blow could connect. In one fluid motion, the Sith Lord pirouetted and drew his longsword, although by now, the two impersonators had already turned tail and were now running down the corridor as if all the hosts of hell were chasing after them.

Which wasn't far from the truth.

"<Seize them!>" the Emperor commanded, taking off in pursuit, along with his troops. "<Hold fire, I want them alive for questioning!>" he ordered as one of his soldiers raised his rifle to fire. Were these foreign infiltrators? Rebel agents? Both, perhaps? All of these possibilities crossed the Sith Lord's mind as he pursued the two down the winding hallways of the comms tower.

Unfortunately, the two ruffians were out of range of stun blasts and it was far too dangerous to unleash the destructive power of the Force within the tight confines of the tower, as doing so could bring the entire structure crashing down on them. "<Rebel scum,>" the Sith Lord cursed under his breath. What was it with these scoundrels, that made them cling so hard to their irresponsible, hedonistic ways? Well, he supposed he would find out soon enough. If he managed to capture these two, that was.