Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private Salvage Operations: Draemidus Prime (PM to Join!)

Warchanter of the Crimson Call
nicolas-john-poulin-1.jpg

Location: Draemidus System
Operation: Seize Bryn'adul Assets and Technology
Post Number: 01

"I see no need to anger the powers that be here.. you said this was a pilgrimage and yet here we are deploying troops to an asteroid field. Do not tell me you mean to make a play on the holy world itself?" Ali'kuul would grimace slightly at the doubt in his first officer's tone... usually, he would remind an underling of their station, and yet Ylam'nokur had been by his side from the earliest days... and since no one else was in the war room he decided to let it slide. "This is a pilgrimage.. I have not been to the holy sites in years but they will have to wait. This is the beginning Ylam.. the beginning of The Call, scattered in these fields are countless ships, materials, schematics, and other things that were forgotten or assumed trash. We will repurpose." He would sigh, turning away from the crimson holographic table depicting the local area's astral geography to look out a heavily reinforced window at a wrecked Butcher Attack Cruiser strewn across a particularly large chunk of rock. "We must learn what we can from these ships.. I must learn what I can. I was no engineer.. so I am learning late, but if I am to design superior craft than these I must know the strengths and weaknesses of the old empire." "You speak as if it fell centuries ago.." Ylam would counter, always the devil's advocate he'd continue "Perhaps the empire fell for a reason, would it not be better to start anew?" "To start anew we must understand the past. We seek to reclaim Tathra's legacy, not mimic the stains of his children even by accident. We must be careful to guard against such things. Besides... the factions within this system are too busy fighting over operational equipment to bother us with the likes of this."

He would watch in near-silence as dim orange lights would descend from his vessel towards the Attack Cruiser, the only noise being the gritting of his mandibles as his blood boiled at this sudden stream of questioning. "Has there been word?" He would ask silently, his voice betraying a small desperate part of him that needed to know. "No.. the Warchieftain's body has not been recovered."

Another silence, another pause, as both Ylam'nokur and Ali'kuul watched more orange lights descend to salvage the wrecked ship. Finally the silence would be broken.

"Are you sure.. he is dead?"


"He must be.. he could not have just... left. Abandoned his empire to fall."

"He had his reasons..."

Ali'kuul would stop the grinding of mandibles to contemplate this before giving a frustrated growl.
"I will have his body, give it a proper burial. Both to honor him and as a true sentiment to prove I am the legitimate head of all of our peoples. I must unite the five races once again."

"Some will still call you heretic."

"Those that do.. I will make trophies of their skulls and imbue the memory of their slaughter onto them. Each painful second..." He would pause before his eyes would slowly drift to Ylam to his right "Do you doubt me Ylam? After all these years..?"
 
Warchanter of the Crimson Call
Ylam'nokur would stare silently for a minute, feeling the weight of such an accusation before offering "Of course not. I simply urge caution at a time where The Call is only just being heard, we are a small fish in a very large pond.."

"Indeed we are.. but we will not grow if we hide in the weeds." Ali'kuul would return to the holographic table, bringing his hand to the crimson depiction of the solar system and zooming in specifically to the asteroid belt, watching the hologram occasionally shimmer and adjust as new sensor data updated the map every couple of seconds. He watched little holographic asteroids dance within the belt, occasionally crashing into one another and bouncing towards new collision courses. Tapping the hologram he would choose a particularly stable asteroid, squinting as he does so. It was in a part of the field with no other rocks on a collision course, as well as being completely still other than the usual orbit... almost as if it and its surroundings had been engineered to be safe but from the outside blend in with the rest of the field. "Start directing salvage parties here.." he would gesture with an outstretched claw towards one of the largest craters on the rock "I feel there is more to this rock than we assume"

Ylam'nokur's hands would dance across a holographic keypad, issuing commands in Bryn'adul script as the third wave of orange lights descending towards the ship would veer off course and begin waking their way towards their new destination. "I ordered the parties that have already landed to continue their work, although focus on priority materials and supplies."

"Good... Just encase someone does notice it would be good to consolidate forces quickly and it would be a shame if they were tied down having to load too much supply." Ali'kuul would stare at the screen, going back to the system view as he would watch a fleet of green dots intermingling with a fleet of blue dots near Draemidus Prime. "Those fools... fighting so close to the holy world." He'd watch as a few lights would blink out, a casualty display popping up by each one, a rough estimation based off long-range scans and ship-type. "At least it shall be bathed in their blood, a fitting sacrifice."
 
Warchanter of the Crimson Call
Ali'kuul would watch quietly as lights would blink out one by one, doing the mental calculations in his mind over the ensuing minutes as to how many had died in such a brief period, how many died fighting for petty tyrants with old ideas. The Crimson Call would be better, transcend the typical warlords who fight over the remains of the old empire, transcend the old empire.

"What are the initial reports?" he would ask, watching as a look of surprise had slowly crept across Ylam'nokur's features.

"It's an old weapon's testing facility, frigates, weapons, ground vehicles, warbeasts in stasis, it's all there! Completely untouched!"

Ali'kuul would grin as he would glance over Ylam's shoulder at the images depicting mass weapon caches and alloy foundries, things that could be transported onto his ship to produce the metals and materials the Bryn'adul had relied on
"Bring them aboard.. we have an army to build."
 

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