Sullust System;
Over Sullust;
The Fleet.
Command Bridge;
Commander Simpit.
[member="Danger Arceneau"] | [member="Ultimatum"]
Commander Simpit wasn't quick to respond. At first taken aback by her conversational partner's accent, then again by the name she heard and the face she saw, Simpit only looked on in blank determination then out to her fellow pilots as if they were to help her extract the words. The hesitation was brief however and before long she was able to peruse a life time of protocols and automated responses in order to look earnestly back at Danger and smile. Her tone wasn't abrasive, certainly not challenging, and yet there was a particular scent of
something else present.
"An honor, Arceneau," then, because Simpit knew it as the most
efficient form of communication, she sent the rest in an already prepared data packet. Some bundle of information she had nervously thrown together in her earlier hours no doubt, detailing their express authority as stated by what remained of the Protectorate's government, numerous defense clauses. Reasons and
venues for the Trade Conglomerate to express its might in the public's eye. The packet would include information about the Conglomerate's currently underway conference, a gathering of merchants larger than often seen in such southern systems.
"We're here to bring about an end to Stratus Sphere. Our military units are on ground and progressive action is underway. If you have reservations, please speak them now."
Many joked that Simpit was more machine than some of Xenia's better droid models, the ones which seemed more sentient than the factory line workers making them. In fact, it was arguably for this
crude metal transparency that Xenia had taken a liking to the woman and promoted Simpit to captain. She was reliable, if not rough, but meant well when she wasn't berating her crew in nervous fits. In trained peripherals Simpit could see some of her forward gunners tick their preliminary systems online while the targeting computers remained silent. Basic threat analysis told them that Arceneau could deal damage if she turned hostiles, damage the Trade Conglomerate wasn't prepared to recover from just yet.
In the room's corner, a docking agent's terminal lit aglow to display [member="Ultimatum"]'s own vessel thrusting in from hyperspace, welcomed in the silent thunder of real space conversion. The human male who answered the droid did so under the impression he was speaking to a
specialist. One of the esteemed ranks within the Conglomerate's mercenary core, a privileged rank.
"Welcome specialist, Xenia's been expecting you. You're cleared for planetary entry." It felt odd practicing curtesy to a droid, and weirder still to do so because said droid was your superior in rank. In another few seconds a com channel was opened leading directly to Xenia's earpiece and informing her of the situation; informing her that Danger Arceneau had just broken the defensive perimeter with three Maladi class frigates, though had displayed no hostile tendencies as of yet. No response came, meaning Xenia was caught up in socializing and trusted Simpit's judgement.
Sarlacc's Luxury Halls;
Xenia Nastassia.
[member="Gerion Ardik"] | [member="Alric Kuhn"] | [member="Alicia Drey"] | [member="Sanya Val Lerium"] | [member="Tmoxin Temi"]
One step, two step, Xenia smiled first to Alric, then to Gerion. Giving both the smooth curve of a very different smile and basking in their details. The way humor permeated Alric and the drink in his hands, the way his body hunched into concave with the slight sag of inhibition. Xenia smiled and nodded her head as if remembering something, her eyes never leaving one or the other male for longer than a few seconds. Clearly she hadn't anticipated the need to introduce herself at her own party.
"Xenia Nastassia." In contrast the almost painfully sharp Gerion made her feel hyperaware. With long white hair and the formal attire of some Serenno noble, Ardik looked more the part of stories and holo-shows than real life. Something hung in the air around Gerion,
thick like a cloud but invisible to the eyes. Something which made it hard not to stare, or curl up, or attack. An aura Xenia was coming to recognize as the Jedi's touch, that strange ability some of them displayed, chaotic or calming.
"The honor's mine. It pleases me to see manifest the Techno Union's interest."
From where she stood, Xenia could see the faces of many more than just her current conversations. Powerful individuals, relatively, from scattered portions of the galaxy, some treasure troves others valuable
assets. Pushing through with a silent semi-dismissal, the ever graceful Nastassia took hold of two elegant glasses as they glided by from a droid's trey and spun without spilling into perfect place. Having pushed through and to the other side of Gerion and Alric, Xenia now drew closer to some other interesting names. [member="Tmoxin Temi"], representative CEO of Morpho and its extensive industries, stood now not one meter in distance and Xenia offered one of the drinks to her with a friendly smile, adding
"my favorite, here, please." It was as if Tmoxin and her had gone back for years, Xenia pushing the creamy beverage towards the woman and leaning all weight to one straightened leg. When she looked back at Gerion that kind smile was replaced with a less identifiable locket of emotions, the saturation of Naboo's influence in her accent enunciating in poetic clarity.
"Humor me. How does the Trade Conglomerate appear in your first impressions, director?"
She meant Gerion of course, using the professional title '
Director of Techno Union's Department of Law' as a neutral pronoun. Though she posed the question originally to Ardik, she looked on to Alric as well, clearly extending the ring of participation, then checking on Tmoxin's appraisal of the drink she had just fervently recommended.
<<Mi'lady.>>
A droid approached, protocol as its primary function, a service model.
<<Lady Alicia Drey has requested that I bring you refreshments.>> The droid lowered the trey in a near humorous attempt to display them, as if seeing the colored liquids at a
different angle might really make up one's mind. Xenia's eyes fell first to the drink in her hand already, then to that which she had just offered Tmoxin with a theatrical guilt. "Tell me, where is this Alicia now?" The droid pointed to a dark haired woman sitting at another bar alcove at the other end of the room.
"If you would," Xenia began, offering the droid a more docile respect than she afforded most organics,
"might I request her presence here?" The droid nodded,
<<Absolutely, mi'lady,>> then hurried off to fetch Alicia.
Sullust;
Ground Level;
Objective Hunting.
Battlefront;
Detox.
[member="Malcom Renolds"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Ultimatum"] | [member="Doctor Azure"] | [member="Roxy Lalonde"] | [member="Althea Raxis"]
A thin veil of smoke hung off the rim of Detox's blaster barrel, chrome metal letting loose the compressed heat of an emerald bolt which had just lodged itself into the chest of a young soldier. A weequay unfortunate enough to be on the
other side. A second bolt sent a much larger man spinning from his left shoulder, then two more turned him into a smoking corpse. The primitive cry of organics rang clear over the offensive quarrel of war, adrenaline running its course on the flimsy carbon based bodies. Those around the droid moved with it, Xavka and his sorcerer tricks, Matsu and
hers. Enemy and friend started to become muddled, so many faces running recognition checks, so many possible targeting vectors all at once and in a state of ever present change. In the distance, each barge drew nearer, their weapons growing steadily more threatening. And a new enemy, something alive, something with claws climbed from the Sphere's tunnels. Creatures stretched in hideous proportions, at ungodly sizes.
“Detox! The Rancors are armored, we’re going to need heavy fire. I can keep the barges and gunners distracted if you need to redirect those rockets.”
Detox didn't care to ask just how Matsu planned to
distract eight heavily armed gunner barges all at once without rocket support. Xiangu was a different breed than most, and it came with a familiar sense of reckless abandon. Internal servos spun, speculating each logistical option. Without needing to be asked, rockets and heavy gunners turned their aim towards the rancor beasts, blasting over burnt rock and dangerous superheated streams. Bodies, those still and those sprinting, the metal frame of droid husks, shrieking howls. The spastic blooming fire of detonations lit the air above, starfighters burning up in miniature super novas, Stratus Sphere defenses crumbling at the steep cost of Conglomerate lives.
<<Concentrate all fire on the forward rancor,>> Detox instructed, turning then to Xavka.
<<We'll handle the second, on my six.>> Spinning on its heels, Detox motioned another grouping of Conglomerate soldiers to follow and sped off left with them in swift pursuit. A series of crackling missiles twanged from their gun sheaths, lining their trajectory in rivers of smoke and ash and crashing hard into their target. Their target, the closest rancor, stumbled backwards, bloodied and shaken from the impact. Another smashed against it's inner thigh and bloomed into white fire, then another still collided with the monster's forearm with enough contact only to send the rocket careening sideways and under, vaporizing three enemy men and tearing the leg from a forth.
<<Grenades at the ready! Xavka, men, target the rancor's rider. Keep your distance and pepper it with oppressive fire, we're running a diversionary.>>
Rancors were unique in that, while they displayed the tendencies of all other beasts, they were in fact more smart. They tracked their enemies, could recognize faces, could be trained for combat. To accept
control from a rider. To remove the rider was to remove the beast's sense of control, to fell the body at the reigns. A diversionary tactic while Detox patched into air space coms, relaying information in a sped up vocal audio format, speaking words quickly and in the utmost clarity.
<<Communications, communications do you copy?>>
<<We copy Detox, what's your situation.>>
<<We're in need of an aerial strike, our weapons aren't dealing enough damage to these rancors.>>
<<Copy that. [member="Althea Raxis"] has just broken atmosphere, relaying strike orders now.>>
<<That'll work, sending location and targeting data.>>
<<Yes'sir!>>
Objective Information;
Detox Data Packet.
- Objective 1) Destroy the enemy's armed barges. Matsu offers a method but requires protection while she focuses and gathers the force. Matsu, Malcom, Azure, and Roxy are here.
- Objective 2) Kill the two armored tyrant rancors. Missiles and heavy fire will work on one, but an aerial strike from the swarming starfighters is going to have to deal with the other. Distract the second rancor from a distance until the starfighters arrive. Detox and Xavka are here.
- Objective 3) Run the aerial strike on the rancors, use your heavy artillery to blow holes in the monstrous creatures. Be careful of all the enemy fighters inbound, and make your strafe run quick for fear of being shot down. Ultimatum and Althea Raxis are here.
etox ([member="Xenia Nastassia"]) this is Gillian Katar breaking through the atmosphere to assist with your strike orders and flying inbound to your position. Prepare for a drop in.:>>
