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Fires raged across the Eastern reaches of the galaxy, the Bryn'adûl advancing coreward from the farthest fringes of the galaxy to ravage hapless systems and sacrificing their populations to the flames. None are spared their wrath, and as news of the brutality filters back to the other nations of the galaxy relief efforts are organized and fleets dispatched to ensure the safety of the refugees fleeing the slaughter. The effectiveness of these efforts vary, but regardless of their successes or failures, they were quickly overshadowed by the arrival of beings of far more nefarious intents.
Slavers, many of them in service to the Sith Empire, began to arrive to take advantage of the displacement. Many of these arrivals were piecemeal and unorganized, simply opportunistic vultures taking advantage of the misfortunate and war-weary. It wasn't until the arrival of Sith fleets, long columns of interdictors, arrestor cruisers, and fast-action frigates that stretched all along the Pabol Hutta hyperlane from Nal Hutta to Sespe, that the refugees truly found themselves cut off from the straight-forward path of escape.
In command of one of these fleets was Knight-Inquisitor Darth Trellux, a Nazzar Sith Lord of the Sith Empire who had become notorious for his ruthless command at the head of Sith treasure fleets into the Core Worlds. Now he stood at the bridge of an interdictor, watching as another convoy of refugees was snatched out of hyperspace and ensnared by powerful tractor beams. Ion cannons thundered as they launched thick globules of ionic energy into the ambushed vessels, sapping away their energy as their shields, engines, and other crucial systems shut down one by one.
Smirking with satisfaction Trellux turned to the interdictor's commander, "Reel them in, and prepare boarding parties."
Among those of the vessels that had been forced from hyperspace and directly into the clutches of the Sith Empire's finest, the Nebulon-B Escort Frigate caught the attention of Malel Mal'gurith, the towering wraith whom stood among those preparing to board.
Soldiers of the Empire, men and women loyal to the Emperor and furthering their dominion over the Galaxy. Theirs was standardized armor and arms, truly complimenting the extraordinary weight of his presence among them. They dared not show it, yet the wraith could feel their anxiety and hungered on that fear and uncertainty. The feeling of dread, their wariness to merely stand within the presence of a Sith, even one so lowly as the Acolyte before them; There was a certain pleasure that perverse the lines of moral etiquette lesser beings might value. Though their lives were in service, they were but tools, assets to be utilized by the Sith, one and all. Those of true import, were the Lords of the Empire that the wraith served to impress and sought to gain approval.
That was why the Acolyte stood complacent to take part in this endeavor. These were not Jedi nor warriors of any value, there was no threat to be had, no glory to be found in the fight. They were to tread upon the weak, the beaten and hungry. In most similar circumstance, adrenaline may have coursed his veins, yet this would come with ease. So much so, that Malel saw the task before him as a certainty and sought to accomplish it as timely as could be.
"Sir" the commanding officer of the squad assigned under Malel sought to garner his attention, "Lord Trellux has given the word, we may commence at your leisure". The officer spoke formerly, stoically and yet dared not make eye contact. The helm of the Acolyte turning, his gaze overshadowed by darkness, as though staring into the abyss, those that did so would feel naught but a hollow cold.
"Begin boarding procedures" the Acolyte's voice was heavy, raspy as though every word was spoken upon a pained breath, reminiscent of the last gasp of breath from the encroachment death itself.
How to avoid people messing with you? Make it look like you belong here. Make it look like you aren't to be messed with, or be friendly with the biggest, baddest guy in the room. Well, sometimes it could be a lady, but typically a big woman was not what you might think of as intimidating. Considering the fact that I was also not carrying any blaster or weapon. But the tats, grungy look, and the attitude typically kept me out of the nonsense.
Typically.
Today it seemed like there was a huge influx of people here. Slowly but surely people were migrating away from this other group of "Monsters." Creatures that were slaughtering them like sheep, and taking none for prisoners. Not only that, but so many were fleeing from them. Headed into Hutt Space where it would be difficult for people to find them. Though, being right between these Silver Jedi, The Bryn, and the Sith Empire with barely a couple lightyears away from the Confederates, it seemed like everyone wanted a piece of the Hutt Space.
However, it only got worse. Looking up into the sky, through the dense fog, you could so a slew of ships flying into the atmosphere. Just trying to get away from these creatures. It was when my com system popped up. Hearing a ringing sound in my pocket, I threw on my ear bud and answered.
"Yo what-" "DUDE YOU NEED TO LEAVE NOW!" "Whoah hold up ma-" "NO. NO holding up. Sith Ships are showing up on the Pabol Hutta. I barely got out of Varl." "You mean Sith are attacking?" "Unless you know any other kind of triangle shaped vessels that can blot out the sun on half a planet and then capture people for no reason. Then Feth yeah its the Sith!" "Why would-" "I don't know. Just get the hell out of there man."
If by what his call was, Varl was only a couple lightyears away. They would be here shortly, and I needed to leave now. Otherwise, they'd be snatching up everyone. Hide yo kids, hide yo wife man. This is nuts. I didn't care about holding a "persona" of some cool headed guy. I started to run as fast as I could. Flying by people and running into them while trying to pass. I was trying to get to the starport when all of a sudden I could hear boom after boom over head. I looked up for just a moment to see the largest triangles in my life.
With permission to bring a non subbed fleet. Assume shields, engines etc are all modernized and up to spec.
Hutt Space was shrinking by the day. Which was bad and good for Cartel business. Bad if your territory was here, good if the territory of your rivals were here. One Pink Hutt was having a very good day, rising through the ranks as his rivals in the Hutt Council flailed about. War was always good for business!
Today was a PARTY to celebrate.
Aboard the Even Fatter Fever, thanks to Nima Tann
destroying the last one, music was well underway. The small hutt fleet had negotiated a place within the slaving fleet for ample credits of course, lucrative business arrangements with those who knew to profit. The best bands were on. The fattest food was being served and Goros was back alive and well? Somehow not dead and in public?
From the back of a room filled with mercenaries, bounty hunters, slaves, dancers and ruthless killers the spice flowed, the drinks came, the girls danced and the food was endless. If you were here as a guest and not eating something, you were given a suspicious look. You could barely get near the great pink hutt at the rear of it without walking through three rings of guards, all itching to exercise their trigger fingers. Even a few Pyke Syndicate were here keeping an eye on their 'friendly' triad partner, in triad terms that meant they weren't shooting each other this week.
On the third course he’d barely got started!
“More nood! uba cadd beet oinnah”More FOOD! You call this a dinner. His translator addressed them all, a red male zeltron back in business again, and a certain blue twi’lek off to the side at her private golden table looking very pleased with herself, all a great show to distract from the real work being done. Contacts made, slaves gained and her own power increased.
Time to encourage and demonstrate the benefits of joining a lucrative business such as the Hutt Cartel, to as many refugees as possible. That is if they ever stopped partying, it was 50/50 if any business would get done in here today beyond the gorging on food. At least the escort ships were on the ball and began surrounding their first freighter ship.
For as long as the Lightbearer could recall, the Galaxy was wrought with strife. Peace, it seemed, was like water which slipped through one's fingers. No matter how much one could collect in their grasp, in the end, it would elude them. So it was that, even in the present, conflict burned the Stars. Most recently, reports of the savagery unleashed by the Bryn'adûl's advance had been what crossed Josiah's datapad. Yet there was always more. The perpetual clash of Light and Dark, for example. Or in his case, the fight for freedom.
Since taking the Obsidian Vow, Master Denko's attention had been upon the loathesome activity practiced beyond the borders of the Confederacy. A capital offense in their space, Slavery was akin to the most vile of cockroaches. They could purge their lodgings of the vermin, yet the abominations would still remain. This day, the Master had brought together a number of Knights Obsidian to make yet another attempt. Their investigation would have been into the cesspools brimming with recent activity.
Yet their advance through Hutt Space was brought to a rather surprising conclusion.
As interdictors pried their vessel, an unmarked Nebulon-B Escort Frigate, from hyperspace, Josiah visibly tensed. For the duration of the voyage, he had been composing a rather simple missive to his daughter Auteme
. Yet, for the life of him, he could not make the words fit right. As the ship lurched to a halt, however, the half-written message was sent as is and the Obsidian Master rose to his feet. "What was that?" he asked, addressing the bridge over his ear-comm.
"We've been interdicted! They're fir-"
Immobilization came as Josiah braced himself against the wall of his quarters. Power? Gone. Mobility? Erased. "Kark." he breathed, hustling towards the bridge.
An audio transmission went way, way out, the kind of way out you get from politely hijacking a massive subspace comms relay on the Mara Corridor.
"This is Captain Jerec Asyr of the Spacer Guild. Independent ships are lighting up the Pabol Hutta with distress calls. The Sith Empire's out there taking slaves from the refugees that the Bryn'adul sent packing. The Sith are really living up to their anagram.
"This is why we fight for free spacelanes. This is the need, and it's right now.
"Talking to the Silvers now, we've had our differences but the Pabol runs right along the edge of your border. You're the only ones who can offer any serious refuge to these people. The Empire's way overextended. Cut them off and wipe them out, all of them.
"I'm gonna do what I can, but you could blink and bring a thousand times more to the table than I do. So consider this one more distress call on your east border, and come lend a hand."
Beric was not one to believe in luck; he'd been surrounded by the force since a young age, and for most of his life had tried to study the mystical presence that bound all beings in the galaxy together, the presence that dictated the balance of the galaxy, that affected fate and fortune. Luck was simply a term used for fate by those who did not understand it.
Yet, Beric was beginning to think that maybe, himself mixed together with starships spawned something almost akin to bad luck.
The first time he'd flown, the ship had been injured and the Lord of Frosthall had barely survived a fall through a planet's low atmosphere, waking up just in time to slow his fall to a survivable speed before being knocked out again on impact. The second time had been aboard a luxury starliner, which had crashlanded onto the slaver-infested desert of Ophideraan. Now, aboard an unmarked frigate, they had suffered another bout of misfortune; exceptionally armed slavers, the targets that he and his fellow Knights of Obsidian were here to try and immobilize. Either luck did really exist, or the Force was trying to tell Beric to stay off of starships. The only thing he could do now was hope that his luck wouldn't worsen.
The mission of the Knight's Obsidian had been, in essence, a relief mission. The fiery advance of the Bryn'adul throughout Wild Space had killed millions and displaced many more. Those who were fortunate enough to have means to escape off-world did by any means they could -- and in these parts of the galaxy wealth was sparse, and people and family who could afford passage off-world were sparser. Outdated ships that hadn't flown in centuries had been forced to stick to the well-charted, moving hyperlanes, intelligence had suggested due to the fact that many ships would not be able to take on the more risky and fuel-consuming byways. The largest and most well-traveled was the Pabol Hutta, but it seemed that others were aware of that fact, Beric realized as he saw the long line of battleships cast against a starry backdrop from the transparisteel viewport of the stricken frigate. Beric had participated in few encounters with the Sith, but he was educated enough to recognize the distinct dagger shape of their interdictors, star destroyers, and ships of war.
The frigate was now disabled, and Beric hurried through the hallways now painted a crimson red by emergency lighting, the color befitting their situation and aggressor. As he moved along panicked technicians nd fellow Knights, he could feel a lurch as the ship began to move, cause for such being a vector change unforeseen by the ship's inertial dampeners, which had to mean one thing; the Sith and slavers were reeling in their captured prey for the kill. The klaxons seemed to blare louder in Beric's ears as he realized the fact, and his grip on the hilt of his lightsaber subconsciously tightened. There was no way out of the inevitable.
Pushing his way through the clustered hallways, Beric finally reached the bridge and was comforted slightly by the fact that the commanding crew there, at least, had not lost their minds yet. But that comforting thought was dispelled by the large transparisteel viewports that adorned the bridge. Beric was finally able to clearly see their enemy, and it was not good; massive, almost unending formations of Sith ships, including a particular cruiser that was getting closer and closer; the Sith ship that had been caught in the tractor beam. As Beric watched, he realized that the cruiser would be within docking distance in a matter of seconds, and slowly those on the bridge began to realize it as well. That was when Josiah
entered the room.
Beric turned as the blast doors hissed open, sensing the presence of the Obsidian Master who'd lead this voyage in the first place. "Master Josiah," Beric said in a low, cautious tone of deference. "It's the Sith Empire. They're preparing to board."
The call was heard and heeded. Mobilization was immediate. In SJO's efforts to amass their fleets, Elise reached out to Bralin
for follow through on their vow.
Now's the time. Refugees need aid, fleeing from slavers and sith alike. Come quickly.
And come quickly, they did. It was a short jump through hyperspace for them to pull to their border, Elise riding in Bralin
's metal belly as they pulled into chaos underway. In the distance, Elise grimaced as she watched a roughed up freight get pulled into one of many ships making up a sith fleet. Her own fleet jumped into place all around them, a speckle of metal gleaming in the distance.
"Bralin," she asked, her voice tight. "Can you break their hold without harming the civilians aboard." It was an unpleasant truth that fleeting was not an area of her expertise. She reached for diplomacy instead, patching her message to all ships in the area.
"This is Elise of the Silver Jedi. We have received reports of slavery attempts by the TSE. A reminder-- this is not your space. Release the convoy and prepare to be boarded."
The biomechanical ship had once again been called on by the Jedi Elise to assist those who needed help. Now he was face to face with a Sith fleet, hunting those running from the Bryn'adûl. He "looked" over the field. People running. Slavers everywhere. This.... He could tell this situation was less then ideal. The ship quickly moved into position to show himself to the Sith ships, hoping they might consider him more valuable. He could hear Elise ask if he had an idea for breaking the enemies hold on a "freighter" as they called it.
"I have an idea, but I doubt that you will like it. I suggest strapping in. RD-1, get droids ready for... damage." As the large being said this, he began to shoot forward at high speed. Not quite full, but still fast for a ship his size. He aimed for the Sith vessels with one goal. One that Elise might could sense. He was going to ram them! His hull was tough, and with no weapons of his own it was the best plan he had. They most likely didn't know what he was anyway, which was a bonus.
"This is Captain Jerec Asyr of the Spacer Guild. Independent ships are lighting up the Pabol Hutta with distress calls. The Sith Empire's out there taking slaves from the refugees that the Bryn'adul sent packing. The Sith are really living up to their anagram."
Lucien smirked, arms crossed over eachother and a foot tapping in rythym to the music being listened to with his other ear. The one without the headphone listened intently to the message that was intercepted a short while before. Him and a new guy by the name of Wimbly
had just finished up a job for the old Hutt named Jinnosha Zord. That job gave them a hefty enough pay-out for the work, and he intended on making good timing to that high-stakes tournament of Corellian Gambit after all was said and done. That was the plan, at least before Jinnosha's people intercepted the message from Keldooine's vantage on the fringe of both Silver Jedi and Hutt Space.
It was a message from his Captain, Jerec Asyr
, and had it been from anybody else he was liable to have ignored it entirely. That tournament was going to double, perhaps even triple the credits he'd just made, and there wasn't much that could convince him to change-up his priorities. Other than a message from his Captain, that is.
"This is why we fight for free spacelanes. This is the need, and it's right now. Talking to the Silvers now, we've had our differences but the Pabol runs right along the edge of your border. You're the only ones who can offer any serious refuge to these people. The Empire's way overextended. Cut them off and wipe them out, all of them."
Jinnosha didn't need any convincing that now if any time was the moment to make a move. His own personal battle group was being mobilized outside of Keldooine; starfighters, fighting men, and droids alike being transported from the surface and up to the various ships-of-the-line. The opportunity was one of dual-interest to the Hutt, for he clearly saw the opportunity being presented, because in spite of the danger, he just knew that the Silver Jedi would not ignore the call-to-defense of the innocent. It gave him an opportunity to not just curry favor with the Silver Jedi, but one that would also undoubtedly present the chance to degrade the influence of the various Hutt kajidics that were his rivals, and who surely would represent themselves among the chaos. He was playing a dangerous game, but it was one that he was willing to risk. Besides, he had the resources to rebuild if the losses proved too severe, and at the least he could tell the Silvers that he tried.
And even better, he had Lucien with him too. The Prince-in-exile of Serenno, nominally a citizen of the Empire, joined him on board the bridge of the Hutt's flagship, The Indomitable Hutt, and awaited patiently for the mustering process to finish. They were going to war in all but name, and while the seasoned Jedi-Spacer-Pilot -- take your pick, he didn't care really --was not a stranger to combat, the feeling this time was veritably different from all those moments of life-and-death from before. He could feel it in his bones; the force whispered to him in a manner that had not occurred since his meeting with his master, Darth Themis
. He knew that, Jerec's call or not, there was something that wanted him on board that ship, and eventually right into the jaws of the Sith war-machine.
"I'm gonna do what I can, but you could blink and bring a thousand times more to the table than I do. So consider this one more distress call on your east border, and come lend a hand."
And with that, the message ended. It was Luc's fifth time replaying it over the bridge's speakers, much to the dismay of the organic crew, but Luc was just trying to soak things in while he could. Eventually the all-clear was sent up to the bridge, each of the vessels within the fleet giving the heads-up that they were fueled, stocked, and ready to jump. Lucien didn't waste time lingering on the bridge any further. With a final set of farewells, he moved towards the hangar bay with a pace that was far from the nonchalant gait that was his standard.
The Indomitable Hutt's hangar, despite being the largest, would surprisingly only have just one starfighter on board, and that was Lucien's very own Midnight. The rest of the numerous craft in the hangar were troop transports or the expensive Jackal Pods, sixty of them or so from his count, with each one loaded with a full squad of B2 Super Battle Droids and S1 Security Droids mixed in to fill in the gaps. The B1's were relegated to ship defense and operations, not a bad idea at all. Luc wasn't sure what his plan was just yet, but he figured it would come to him soon. Though he really didn't have all that much time, as the collective hyperdrives of the battle group whined to life, and moments later their fleet was inbound to the combat zone.
"Here we go."
-
The Zord Battlegroup, or Relief Fleet as it was officially dubbed for propaganda purposes, dropped out of hyperspace with ample room between them and the myriad of slavers, pirates and others who came to the aid of the Sith [ Goros the Hutt
]. X-wing fighters were expelled from the Quasars to provide Escort for the fleet, the full complement of Fang Fighters from their dedicated Carrier being kept in reserve for now. Luna Troop Transports were also kept reserved on board the Indomitable Hutt for now, their use in civilian rescue being a priority once things began to heat up. Along with the pair of Damorian Light Cruisers, Jinnosha's flagship took to the vanguard to protect the more fragile carriers at the back. The medium transports headed up the rear, their sole purpose being an ace-in-the-hole of sorts for the surprisingly-cunning Jinnosha the Hutt. Staffed with B1 droids, no lives were in danger if the transports were somehow filled to the brim with explosives and for some reason kamikazed themselves onto a ship or two- or three, preferably.
The formation was solid, and the fleet held their position outside of weapons range for now. They arrived just in time to catch the message being broadcasted by Elise as her fleet entered the system. His own message to the various ships followed, as a line opened up for all the ships to the area to hear. Clearing his throat before it opened, Jinnosha delivered his speech in near-perfect basic.
"This is Jinnosha Zord, Leader of Zord Kajidic and Enterprises out of Keldooine. We've come heeding the call of support being sent to the Silver Jedi Order, to offer our protection to the refugees seeking peace and stability outside of these hostile systems. Heed our call of support, and you will be protected, interfere with our efforts, and you will be dubbed an enemy and dealt with, with the same cruelty you've shown these civilians. That...is a promise."
Meanwhile back in The Indomitable Hutt's hangar, Luc sat on the edge of one of Midnight's wings. Until things heated up, he'd hold off on blasting out into the void guns-blazing. The force whispered to him-- not yet -- the words ringing intermittently within his mind. At any other time he'd ignore it, but for now, he was listening...for once.
Elise's eyes widened as understanding hit her. It was almost as jostling as the incoming damage. There was only one thing she could do. She braced herself, the acceleration tossing her back into a chair.
"Wait, no, stop I really do not think that is-" The woman spoke quickly, trying to urge the well meaning bio ship to abandon course. Immediately. "We should at least wait for their response before taking hostile-" Zoooooom. "Action."
Why did she feel like she was going to need to place another order for fruit baskets after this?
Jai'galaar sat aboard the bridge, a certain look in his eye that had rarely showed through since he got off Concord Dawn, though how he felt may have been familiar to Scherezade. It was revenge. He'd heard that the not just slavers were going to be taking advantage of people just running for their lives. The Sith.... They would be there. He tightened his grip on the pilot chair as they soon left hyperspace. The ships tactical droid EW-031
, would soon speak up, sounding almost chipper.
"I'm detecting multiple civilian, Jedi, Sith, Hutt, OPA, and various slaver ships. There's also something... odd." Jai looked over to the little droid, knowing odd could mean almost anything for her damaged systems.
"Need a bit more then odd EW."
"There a ship with a similar reading to the life signal of a cyborg. I... don't recognize the configuration. I can't even detect sublight drives." Jai sighed, looking out and seeing what he thought was the ship. He tapped some controls, engaging the ships boost engines. He wanted to get close, fast. It would be where the light weight ship was safest.
"Well can I have your processors here, now?" He then looked at Scherezade and Sasmay. "I don't think it's any secret how I feel about Sith or slavers. If you need to rein me in.... Do it."
"Ugh. Finally." The engine hummed to life as she fit the replacement power converter into place. At this point the Razor was probably only 10% original parts. She'd had to replace the power converters at least a dozen times in the past few months, along with a few circuit boards, the firing mechanisms on the point defense systems, and the chaff launchers. The new generator was good, but it wasn't quite enough juice for the ship when the cloaking device was running.
She slipped out of the engine room and back to the common room, finally turning down the Heavy Isotope after an hour of work. Oddly enough she felt pretty good after all that. Working with her hands really calmed her down. Something like moving meditation, except for the general lack of Force. A little mystical help probably wouldn't have made the fiddling with her ship any easier, but the following 'work' could definitely use a bit of Force.
She was, technically, part of the Spacer's Guild, however informal such a title was. Kelsie had definitely heard of other spacer's guilds, most of them using the name to try and legitimize a spice-running business or as a general front for smugglers. This Spacer's Guild was only marginally better from her view. She didn't have the complete view.
Still, this next job was less morally grey. Refugees running from the Brynnies to the west, right into the welcoming arms of the Sith to the north. Kelsie had had less-than-friendly run-ins with both parties, so when Jerec got word out that they had a chance to stick it to 'em, she was all for it. The Razor had been modified to run blockades, hit-and-run targets, all that fun spacer junk, and today she'd get the chance to use it. Soon enough the rust bucket she called home was in hyperspace, and she hopped on the comms channels she'd set aside for the little guild of theirs.
<<"Kyros, you in? We've got ships signalling; probably pulled out by interdictors. I know you've got a ship big enough, and I can scramble up enough guys to bring an A-class within the hour. Asyr's in town, plus chatter about a Hutt. What say you we save a few lost souls?">>
Of course, when she got there, the situation was much better than she'd expected... still pretty bad, though. It was time to get to work.
A grim pair of eyes stared through the viewport into the void of space, the shimmer of the stars that dotted its expanse only faint flickers in the endless sea of darkness that swallowed everything whole. From the Bryn'adul they ran, as they had ran from the Empire and the Primeval before them, but there was no safety waiting for those that fled the annihilation that tailed them from the edge of the galactic disc - not the safety they were perhaps seeking, at any rate. Waiting for these refugees were the slavers that answered to the Empire, but arriving from Imperial space was the Empire and its Armada itself.
She stood in the belly of a Yuuzhan Vong warship, a Miid ro'ik, alongside several members of the Yuuzhan Vong warrior caste, their ship a short distance behind the Interdictor vessel that Trellux was aboard. With the ever-growing divide between the ideologies among the Sith in the Empire, and following her declaration of a Kaggath, Braith found herself surrounded with more and more of the outcasts of the Empire. While the seditious few pushed for a rebellion within the Empire, particularly among those loyal to the defecting Lord General Irveric Tavlar
and the traitorous Sith that he had aligned himself with, it was with great foresight that she had rallied those that were looked down upon even among the Empire's own citizenry, though perhaps not to the extent of the Mandalorians.
Like Darth Trellux and Malel Mal'gurith that rode with the Armada proper, Braith and the host of Yuuzhan Vong that followed were here to take advantage of the chaos created by the encroaching Bryn'adul. Unlike her Sith compatriots, however, Braith was here to provide the Yuuzhan Vong within the Empire with innocents to shape into their needs - whether it be warriors, shapers, or as mere clay to mold their ooglith masquers from - rather than use them as the Hutts would doubtlessly wish to. In return for the part she was playing in this, the Yuuzhan Vong agreed to part with a flotilla of living ships and a force to work them - though it was perhaps largely to honor her part in propping them up further as the Sith became divided, and for the increase of influence that brought them.
"Eia guvvuk shel krel os'a hmi va ta." One of the warriors at her side said, his tone one of amusement - as if to find humor in the fruitless endeavors of those that still stood in opposition to the Empire. "Yes, although the Imperial Armada is perhaps less threatening when assembled as a group of ships meant to capture - but that misplaced courage will soon be turned to fear when the rest of the knotte Yun'o arrive from behind us." Braith said, making clear her views on what was leading to the perception in the Silver Jedi. "They have witnessed the weakness of the Sith firsthand, and they believe, rightfully so, that the Empire is stumbling." She explained, turning away from the viewpoint to look the Commander that stood behind them in the eyes. "When the rest of prat arrive we must make no delay in engaging any that seek to get in the way of the Armada, the Miid ro'ik that number our forces may devour whatever ships they can - but do not forget we are here to take those that flee the Ro'ik before the Nom can save them." Braith said, directing her words to the Yuuzhan Vong Commander that towered above her. "But we should not engage until the rest of the Yuuzhan Vong have arrived, one single warship will only embolden them, Vua Choka."
"You speak as though you are one of our own, Yammka." The Commander said, addressing her through the title their collective had given her after hearing of the Kaggath she'd declared - that of slayer, though she remained untouched by shaper hands - to signify her willingness to cull even her own. "But we will do as you suggest, it would be qorih of us to rely on harla to overwhelm them." He added, pausing to grin. "The rest of our might will arrive soon enough, anyway."
Sasmay sat quietly in a tight bundle for a long while, helmet covered face with a blacked out screen until they dropped into the zone from their travel. When the hyperdrive kicked off, it was Sasmay's alarm clock. The blacked out mask cleared, standing and taking a second to stretch before shouldering the weapon and walking to listen as Jai spoke. A strange ship, reading like a cyborg but no sublight signature. Behind the helmet her brow arched at the strangeness of that combo.
His comment about Sith and Slavers on the other hand made her think. At least for a second. She did not speak back to him, instead poking her thumb up to her neck and sliding it across. Sasmay was game for wiping the lot out. Slavers did not hold a high opinion for the former slave, and she wasn't about the let anyone else suffer the same fate. However, she did look to Scherezade deWinter
to make sure they had the free and clear of it.
They had been to this part of space not too long ago. News of the hordes of refugees escaping planets being taken over by the Brynadul made their way quickly to HOPE, and from there to the Agents of Chaos. They had aced the Bryndadul before, when they had tried to protect the planet of Kesh. They had failed. That, within itself, didn't concern her. Lessons had been learned from that day on the planet, and the next time they faced the Brynadul directly, results would be different.
But looking at the galactic map, did bring worry to her. She knew what they were. She had seen their monsters at a distance, knew what they did to worlds. And yet no one in the vicinity tried to stop them. Part of why those monsters had been left alone to continue their path of destruction so successfully was because the big players around them simply let them. The hypocrisy was gigantic, yet where she might have gloated, instead it just gave her a headache to think about it.
But this would not be a day to face them directly. Normally, Scherezade herself would've let them continue to forge their fires in peace, far away from her or anything she cared about. But others had different opinions. Discordia herself had come to her to tell her it would be done. The refugees in question would be saved. If for no other reason, it would be a great PR move for the Agents, and help them flow new juice into their Scintilla. More warriors were needed before phase II would begin, and this would be a great way to get them.
So she'd agree to go on the mission, a split of a second before she was ordered to go on it. And here she was now, aboard the Cloud Breaker. At least it had some of the systems she'd invented on it, and knowing it was almost like receiving a nice hug.
Ew's voice yanked her out of her daydreaming and she blinked before turning her gaze to him. Jedi, Sith, Hutt, OPA, and various slaver ships… Sounded like a wild party was in the process of forming. There was also something weird, but at least for now, that didn't really concern the Sithling.
Seeing both Jai and Sasmay look at her, the Blood Hound leaned back in her seat and pulled a small paper bag out, opening it and then offering it to the other two. Cheese cubes. You couldn't go on a proper mission without cheese cubes. Proteins and fats were uber important, especially if they would have to do more than just a short burst battle.
"We can't really beat either the Sith Empire or the OPA with one ship and the bunch of us," she shrugged, chewing on a cube before resuming, "But what we can do, is try to schlepp as many of the slaves as we can and pew pew anyone who tries to keep us from doing that. Leave some business cards for those that we don't get today but might escape the area in the future. Remind me to create fireworks for space when we get back to the Scintilla, we could use it next time to spell messages out or something."
A few more cheese cubes made their way towards her mouth.
"So how are we doing this?" she asked, looking at the other two, "Are we going to ram into ships? Board other ships? Kidnap one of the Sithie lords and hold him for ransom in return for a million slaves?"
To add to the confusion, those watching their scanners would soon see a large hyperspace reading that would herald the coming of a ship not seen in the inner rim since the days of the Free Worlds Coalition. As the supercarrier appeared she had none of the regular companion ships one would expect to accompany a ship of her size. As soon as she entered the system she launched her entire complement of fighters. A mixture of XJ8 X-Wing Starfighter , K-Wing Heavy Assault Starfighters, B-Wing Heavy Assault Starfighter screamed from their hangers and toward the attacking TSE fleet.
" Jerec Asyr
thank you for the warnings good sir, Not sure if the SJO plans to join the party but we in the OPA believe in freedom for all. To all hostile forces looking to engage the refuge fleet, they are now under the protection of the Atlas Reborn and the OPA. We have promised them safe passage to the Silver Jedi Order, and we in the OPA keep our promises. "
The massive ship was on her way to Corellia for refit when the distress call went out. As one of the largest assets the OPA had in the inner core she had responded, without a proper fleet but with a full complement of fighters. Outdated and outnumbered she would do her part to the fight the sith, be they the One Sith she was intended or the spawn of that empire that stretched across the galaxy today.
"Multiple ships on the scanners." Declared one of the technicians from within the recessed pit on the command deck, which was quickly confirmed by multiple visuals from across the blockade. It was to be as expected, for when one cornered beast squealed it brought the rest of the pack to its rescue.
Right into the waiting jaws of the beast.
"Transmission being broadcast across all frequencies, shall I patch it through?" An affirmative gesture from the Sith Lord led to the transmission being played across all command decks in the Sith flotilla, "This is Jinnosha Zord, Leader of Zord Kajidic and Enterprises out of Keldooine. We've come heeding the call of support being sent to the Silver Jedi Order, to offer our protection to the refugees seeking peace and stability outside of these hostile systems. Heed our call of support, and you will be protected, interfere with our efforts, and you will be dubbed an enemy and dealt with, with the same cruelty you've shown these civilians. That...is a promise."
Trellux sneered as he looked to the bridge's chief firing officer, "Show him our reply, target one of the nearest disabled ships." Cannons on the deck of the interdiction swiveled to align with projected firing arcs, targeting one of the nearest cruisers that were being reeled in for boarding. Barrels rumbled with recoil as a concentrated volley of heavy emerald energy blasts streaked through the open void, slamming into the vessel along multiple vectors that resulted in the ship breaking apart and exploding violently under the systematic barrage. The debris of the vessel, mingled in with the void-exhumed corpses of all onboard, drifted in among the other disabled vessels.
Proximity alerts began to ring out across the deck as one of the larger ships was identified as moving into attack position, although the speed at which it moved and its plotted course belied its purpose of ramming into one of the Imperial vessels. Silently, the crewmen of one of the nearby arrestor cruisers went into work, releasing their hold on a smaller ship to angle their tractor beam dishes towards the newest threat. Though each of the powerful dishes was capable of ensnaring and pulling in enemy vessels, they were more than able to push them away just as powerfully. And they powered up to do exactly that as the living bioship, a fact unknown to the arrestor's crew, trudged forward towards the fleet. Ion cannons flashed across the arrestor's bow as it opened fire on the ship in accordance with the tactical protocol.
"Fighters are being launched from other enemy vessels, moving defensive screen to intercept." When the Empire had erected this blockade, they had launched fighter craft to patrol and cover each ship in the flotilla. Now those fighters closest to the offending sector moved on an intercept course with not only the other fighters but with the smaller enemy ships as well.
Allies: All OPA, SJO, CIS and Allied Ships Enemies: All Sith
NPCs: Admiral: Kaneth Tavross, the 7th Fleet, Aboard the Silver Ward A Deluge-class Battle Carrier Fleet: Background Unless Required. Assume a large presence in your posts, additional fleets jumping in if required to support. 6th, 8th and 9th Fleets on standby ready to jump in.
To All Sith Ships “This is Admiral Tavross of the Seventh fleet to all Sith Forces, you will stand down and let these refugees pass to safety or we will take action to make that happen. You want to take innocent lives from their families. You will have to go through us. Tavross out.”
Coordinate me with all allied fleets. Standing beside the admiral was... “This is Master Kei Amadis on the Silver Ward to all allied ships, do not fire unless fired upon, if you are engaged don’t hold back, because they won’t. Whatever happens today, you stood when others didn’t and tried to stop something horrible. May the force be with us all.”
Meanwhile from the hanger bay….
The Houk Fire Teams and Rangers were fully kitted out, a large display of bristling guns and armor on show. Readying the rangers up for a combat deployment to save people from a life of slavery, this is what they were born for and what this rangers division specialized in, combat drops. Banging his head against the nearest Houk, vertigo grumbled the power armor had shrunk, that got a few laughs about his meal sizes.
Stomping his way onto the hangar bay, a battlescarred Houk was out in the middle of the troops, towering above them all. Major Vox was back and he was bigger and meaner than ever! “SO WE GOT A BUNCH OF SITH LOVING SCHUTTAS TAKING FAMILIES.” He stomped in front of them, the drill instructor of old. “SNATCHING KIDS OFF THEIR MOTHERS TEATS!” He spat. “AND WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!”
There was a shout or two about freeing the families, shooting some sithspit. “I said WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!” Vox screamed in the ear of the nearest ranger. There was a roar from the hundreds gathering around, he grabbed the nearest Houk giving him a good solid headbutt. “That’s Right, You’re RANGERS, Go be RANGERS, go squash me some sith.” Putting in an oversized cigarre clamped between his teeth.
“Live and BREATH SJO. Do you get me!”
“We get you sir!”
“PACK EM IN! Let’s Go. Hurp Hurp Hurp.”
And so the rangers boarded their dropships, looking for a place to strap in, as this was going to be one rough entry!
A new transmission went out, this one patched together from distress calls and first-person footage. It showed Sith Empire interdictor flotillas ensnaring, boarding, and even destroying independent traffic without discrimination. The broadcast went on and on, a constant flow of new material from ships all throughout Hutt Space. And it showed many stakeholders fighting back or showing up to help.
"This is real," said Jerec in voiceover. "This is happening right now. They're murdering civilians at random. And it's probably bait to draw out Silver Jedi fleet assets into range of interdictors so superdreadnoughts can appear from nowhere. But the Sith Empire is overextended and bogged down. There's only a couple of quick ways out of Hutt Space, easy to monitor and block.
"Any ships who can hear me, you've got an opportunity here to rip the heart out of the Empire's interdiction capacity. For the moment, those interdictors are pretty weakly guarded. Interdictors attract nearby objects and tractor beams can get baffled by any improvised tractor shroud. Hold out for help by choking their airspace with anything and everything. Time is critical here. The longer the Sith stay on the Pabol Hutta, the more expensive interdictors they lose. Kill them fast. Kill them before they can kill any more of the innocent."
The transmission went out quadrant wide as more and more comms assets amplified it.
![House-Verd.png]](https://i.ibb.co/XY5FZ6c/House-Verd.png])
