[The Resistance] One Hundred Eight Hours

[Laira Darkhold]

Four days. It had been four days since she’d gotten a decent night’s sleep. Everyone on the flight deck was running off caf and stims right now. Pilots were crashing in the cockpits while they waited for their turn to go on recon, and the maintenance crews were running ragged just trying to keep every fighter fueled up. After every jump, Vice Admiral Trey’lis called for a wing to scramble and survey the system. Every forty minutes after arrival, there was a ping. It had become like clockwork.

Seconds after the ping, they would appear and the fleet would start jumping again while the pilots would do their best to keep their TIE variants away from the fleeing ships until everyone could escape to the next system. They were down a full wing of fighters and more were running on fuel reserves as they just didn’t have time to fuel them all in between jumps.

In the days following Thyferra, the Admiral and the civilians he’d assisted in escorting out of the sector during the battle had been harried and chased out of the Core. The Vice Admiral was running low on options with every jump to hyperspace and was sadly in the same state as the rest of the crew. Overworked and underslept.

Even though she’d been on the Solemn Purpose for over a week, Laira hadn’t seen very much of the titanic vessel, her movement restricted to the flight deck and bunkroom just down the hall, but had heard that the cargo bay had been repurposed into a living section to house all the refugees they had picked up. The Burning of Thyferra had left a lot of people without homes, and the Admiral had been reluctant to turn anyone away in their time of need. That had been where the newly elected Chief of State of the Provisional Government had given his speech not long ago, most holoscreens still playing reruns of it, and a few of the media personnel they had picked up speculating about what it might mean.

The clock ticked down. Forty Minutes…

Laira held her breath, waiting for the call. Waiting for the ping on the sensors and for it all to start again.

Forty Minutes, eleven seconds.

The redhead inhaled anxiously, starting the power-on sequence for her X-Wing and waiting for the rapid green lights to come across the dash. Other pilots were waking up and doing the same all across the hangar. Maybe her clock was fast.

Forty two minutes.

Some of the pilots were checking their watches and waiting for the call to scramble. Perhaps the Sith were using some form of stealth systems, but the recon flights had AngelEye sensors. Didn’t mean it wasn’t possible, just that there were some assurances that stealth craft wouldn’t just float up to them. The Commander ordered everyone to remain on red alert and take stim to stay awake as needed.

The call was given and the fleet went into standby mode for the first time in one hundred eight hours, thirty four minutes, seventeen seconds. But no one ran to their bunks.

Tag List

Spoiler

[member="Aela Talith"]
[member="Arix Askrima"]
[member="Aryn Teth"]
[member="Asmus Janes"]
[member="Auri Vesta"]
[member="Avi Soltani"]
[member="BB-4001A"]
[member="Callia Rodez"]
[member="Connory"]
[member="Coren Starchaser"]
[member="Corey's OOC"]
[member="Damian Starchaser"]
[member="Davin Skirata"]
[member="Deacon"]
[member="Dead Eye"]
[member="Elpsis Kerrigan-Alcori"]
[member="Jax Rhane"]
[member="Jyoti Nooran"]
[member="Kensic Varais"]
[member="Kira Jax"]
[member="Mariya Pyne"]
[member="Nima Tann"]
[member="Noah Corek"]
[member="Norin Terrek"]
[member="Orn Pharr"]
[member="Rayf Vigil"]
[member="Shamira Karuto"]
[member="Sav Elko"]
[member="Synthia Fellstarr"]
[member="Tegan Katarn"]
[member="Veino Garn"]

 

[Jorga the Hutt]

The inventor of those Angel Eye sensors hadn't slept in seventeen hours, and even that had made him feel like a coward. Some of these techs had pulled twenty-four or forty-eight. But Rel Connory wasn't as young or unscarred as he'd been, and this was about as long as he could push before his work suffered.

He'd taken off his prosthetic legs just below the knee, the better to slide into a recon fighter and access its Angel Eye. Of all his creations, and he'd made some in his day, that sensor might still be his favorite. In simplest terms, it used highly variable graviton emissions to get ahead of enemy gravitic modulators - the only stealth gear that could evade a crystal gravfield trap. Decades of one-upmanship had produced other ways to hide or reveal a ship, but on the gravitic side of things, the Angel Eye remained unmatched.

So far as he knew, anyway. He'd left the galaxy for the Rishi Maze when his wife torched his homeworld, and only came back when he learned there was a child. Between absence and vendetta, he hadn't kept up with the latest and greatest tricks. Clearly, though, the Angel Eye was still doing its job, and qualified mechanics were very hard to find.

 

[Ohm-Lai]

Kensic slumped in the cockpit of her fighter. Not that she was a fighter jock, but she could handle small craft well enough to stay alive. With everything on standby, she pulled the toggle. The viewport slid open with a hiss and she hauled her tired body over the lip and onto the ladder. She barely felt the cold metal bite her hands as she slid down to the deck.

How did some people live like this? They thrived on this type of lifestyle. She did not. She was much more a people person.

“Captain!” A voice called and she paused, turning wearily to the messenger, an enlisted comm tech. “Report just came in.” He stopped and handed her a code cylinder. She entered her credentials and scrolled through the message. They’d made contact with her old friends on Nar Shadda. They would have an account set up within the day, ready for credits. Untraceable and laundered.

Intel would have a way for moving funds. That had been the goal of the operation. Now what they needed was a source of income. She could pull some more strings for that. Get in touch with her stock brokers. Start buying stock, in bulk. Passive income streams.

A knot was forming at her temple and she rubbed it with her fingers. Even with most of her income going to help fund this Resistance, it wasn’t much. Royalties weren’t very high for a C-list actress in B-holofilms. No, they needed a different sort of marketing and distribution for that.

That was a worry for another day.

 

[Yula Perl]

Avi had grown up well off, never having to want for anything. His parents had shielded him from the worries that plagued their youth and gave their son the galaxy. He’d always had food on his place, clean clothes and a safe home. His exposure to the poor had been limited and he didn’t fully understand why people would choose to live that way. Lazy, he assumed.

That had all changed in the last week. Even now, sleep deprived and running on caf grounds, he could feel the vestiges of anxiety in the pit of his stomach from when they’d first approached Thyferra. The planet was burning, its people fleeing with nothing but the clothes on their backs. Everything they’d ever had was up in flames, and the ones they’d managed to rescue were the lucky ones. It was terrifying, exhilarating and eye opening all at once. Avi may have been naïve but he had a heart.

The Nasvalo had literally been thrown into communications out of lack of anything else to do. He wasn’t the best pilot so he couldn’t go flying one of those junky X-Wings like he’d seen the pretty redhead do. Instead he found himself crammed into a tiny interior room aboard the Solemn Purpose, wires and communicative devices practically spilling into the hall.

He pushed a button on one of the comm’s that lead to the maintenance department and rasped into the speaker. “We need some help down here.”

There was the crackle of static before an equally tired voice answered back “You break the scanner again, Soltani?”

“Caf machine.” Came the response. “Hurry. Don’t think we can last much longer. You’re our only hope.”

 

[Brooke Waters]

There was a reason she was a student of Coren Starchaser. Savannah Elko had the heart of a Rebel. She wasn’t one that was going to be setting firebombs to buildings. But taking strikes at Imperial interests, and fighting the Sith? That she could do. And right now she was happy with her life. Master Starchaser was doing really well with keeping everything focused on what she wanted, but giving her the tools she wanted. She knew about him. An Alliance hero, working the underworld of the galaxy, and one of the larger Rebels there was out there. She had heard all the stories of the fights. It was great to be his student.

The trick was her own focus was a bit different, towards alchemy. And what she was really worried about was how that would challenge her. It didn’t matter for Starchaser though. He was teaching her what he knew, and that was a lot of hacking doors, sneaking in around blockades, flying, and doing his best to keep his friends alive, even if it meant stressing his own skills out.

He was one of the members of the New Jedi Order to actively practice with electric judgement. That, to her, was an intense feat.

Still, the blonde had a focus back to her homeworld, back to Thyferra, and this growing Resistance that was shaping up. Starchaser figured it was a good idea for her to be involved and as a result he helped laod up her ship, just a simple shuttle, but still something, with weapons. Rifles, pistols, ammunition. Without meaning to, he let Savannah know that he was always supporting the rebels and Alliance types of all creeds.

When her ship, the Niathal-class assault shuttle she had called Thyferran Dream had landed on Solumn Purpose, the woman stepped from the ship. On her right hip a DE-10, on her left, the stun baton she was still carrying. But around her neck, that was a different story. A yellow synth-crystal, something she and Coren had created rested there. She was working her way up in the Jedi ranks, and he was making sure she was ready.

Purple followed her in tow and she smiled at her droid. Handing off the datapad to the deck chief who greeted her, the woman made her way into the Jedi Quarters, well, after she made a spin through Capital Row. Apparently she was supposed to meet a contact of Coren Starchaser’s.

 

[Shamira Karuto]

[SIZE=12pt]Forcers were meant to be at least serviceable pilots. With their strong connections to the force, forcers should have a natural advantage when in dogfights. It was rare to see one who wasn’t at least a serviceable enough pilot to do patrols. Unfortunately, Shamira found herself in that latter, rare category. It wasn’t for a lack of trying, and with her special goggles that helped cancel out her Myopia she could fly decently well. But without them she was an absolutely hopeless flygirl.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]So instead of being one of the ones to protect the ship, the Togruta Resistance captain was stuck on the Solemn Purpose like the rest of the people who couldn’t fly well enough to do patrols or stave off the relentless TIE attacks. More specifically, stuck in one of the few crew quarters that were available to the officers of the ship to rotate and get some rest in. Yet her inability to help out in the situation that really needed it frustrated her enough to keep her awake, like she had been for the last twenty eight hours.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]The Order of Fire Padawan let out a long sigh and powered up her holopad, checking the time. 1800 hours. She had a full two more hours to rest until she was need elsewhere again, whether that was making sure the refugees were peaceful, checking in with what was left of the military boys, or on the bridge communicating with the pilots. Shamira flopped onto her side, facing the black and bronze R2 unit that had turned its head piece to face her. “I’m not getting any sleep, am I Bronzie?” The droid let out a few short, low beeps and buzzed in droid speak in response. The Togruta let out a grown and flipped off the bed, quickly pulling on her boots. “C’mon. Let’s go get some caf. If I’m not gunna sleep, might as well stay up and help as best I can instead of staying locked in some officers quarters.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]Out walked the Togruta captain into the white lit halls, her brand new captain’s buttons glinting lightly in the light. Bronzie rolled beside her as the pair walked down the hall towards the mess to find some caf to wake herself up. Along the way, either stationed or busy with their tasks turned to either give a small salute to the Togruta or gave respectful nod. Looking down at her droid friend, Shamira gave it a perplexed face. “Definitely not used to this. We wouldn’t even get a second look back at Firemane.”[/SIZE]

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Laira stumbled across the flight deck, yawning as she walked towards the common room. Standby Alert was active and so on duty officers had to remain functioning. The redhead took up a fresh pot of caf, pouring herself a small cup before taking it with her into the maintenance garages where she began refilling the cups of the mechanics and technicians repairing their fighters.

They were needed, pilots often got a lot of the glory, but they couldn't fly without the maintenance crew. And given how tired everyone was, they needed caf just as much as she did to keep from making mistakes in their sleep-deprived states.

As she walked around, topping off the cups of those she passed she saw a man with his mechanical legs removed and slid up under one of the recon fighters. "Hey there," She said sleepily, having to rub her eyes with her free hand. "Give me your cup." Her normal flirty and polite demeanor was gone after the first forty eight hours and now she was just tired and blunt. She'd make it up to the man after a solid sleep.

The intercomm buzzed with noise, another routine update from the Provisional Government as they tried to get their to their feet and stand up after all that had happened. It was hard to build from nothing.

"Traulsk Trey'lis has been announced as Supreme Commander of the Resistance. In a short interview he declared the Resistance Military to be in a state of Ar'krai against the Sith Empire and urged every member of the military to come up with ways to make the enemy just a little bit weaker every day, and carry out missions to that end." The robotic voice was filled with static, the intercomm needed a tune up it seemed but was far from the top of the mechanics' lists. "Arrangements are being made to deliver those that wish to return to the Alliance back to their space safely but will take time."

"Ugh..." she groaned. Ar'krai, the bothan term for total war against an enemy that threatened them with extinction, and that the bothans would see their enemies completely annihilated. In this sense it seemed he was restricting the term to just the members of the volunteer Resistance Military, but it still was only one of the signals of dark times to come. "Looks like its gonna be a long day."

[member="Connory"] [member="Avi Soltani"] [member="Sav Elko"]

 

[Kaida Taldir]

Kaida was no pilot. Being a Force-user did not suddenly endow you with awesome dogfighting skills. She could get from point A to point B, but that was it.The Eldorai soldier stuck with groundpounding. Sleep eluded her. She kept herself busy. The armoury felt enough like home. Maintaining and repairing guns was a way for her to relax.


Four days since fire and brimstone had rained down upon Thyferra. The Sith had struck, leaving devastation in their wake. The Alliance's response had been characterised by incompetence. At least that was Kaida's opinion on the matter. She would not be surprised if treason had been involved. She was probably more than a little biased in her assessment.


The frost elf had been caught up in the mess by being at the wrong place at the wrong time. What a sodding cliche. Caught in the firing line when the invaders assaulted a bacta lab, she'd duelled a Sith Lord, while the building collapsed around them. Then, after the battle's conclusion, ended up with this ragtag fleet. Whatever it was supposed to be. Plenty of people had died in the battle, devoured by the fiery conflagration that engulfed the planet. C'est la guerre.


While the intercomm buzzed with noise, heralding the start of a broadcast from the junta that called itself the Provisional Government, Kaida dispassionately reassembled a boltgun. One part of the speech caught her attention though. "...Resistance Military to be in a state of Ar'krai against the Sith Empire and urged every member of the military to come up with ways to make the enemy just a little bit weaker every day, and carry out missions to that end."


"Madness," someone muttered.


"What does Ar'krai mean?"


"Lunacy, that's what it is. Bloody Bothans. Fanatics. He wants to kill them to the last man, wipe them from history. Dark times are ahead and this lunatic is gonna drag us down with him. With people like that at the helm, we'll end up no better than the bad guys," the Devaronian mechanic spoke in a tone of disapproval and frustration.


"War is not a leisurely stroll through the park. War is hell. Get used to it," Kaida grunted. In truth, she cared little for words either way. "War is cruelty. There is no use trying to reform it; the crueler it is, the sooner it will be over." She finished putting the rifle back together.

 

[Jorga the Hutt]

[member="Laira Vereen"]

"Yeah, Bothan crusades tend to breed long days for sure. Vor'e." Connory slurped a quarter cup of caf. Sooner or later he'd need to put his legs on and go take a leak, but not just yet. He pulled himself out and sat in the fighter's front steps.

"But who am I to judge. Not hard to get caught up in a vendetta when something real's at stake." Leaning back against the fuselage, he closed his eyes, just for the moment. The caf burned a comfortable hole in his gut. "You going back to Alliance turf? No disgrace if you do."

 

[Kira Jax]

There was a certain level of hesitation in her actions. Kira Jax had never expected to find herself in this situation, on the run, afraid, running on absolute fumes. She may have never expected it, but damn it all she loved it. The adrenaline coursing through her only boosted her alongside the caf running through her as she fixed up her X-Wing. The last TIE pass had done a number on its left wing, and she needed some spit, ingenuity, and elbow-grease to keep it together. Her eyes running over what was left of the pilots in the hangar, she decided they all could use some of that to keep together.

After some hasty slap-dash repairs, Kira decided she needed more caf- only to see that someone had filled her cup when she was not looking. Huh. She picked it up, taking a deep drink of the life-saving liquid. By the Force, she had needed that. She was running on adrenaline and caf. If she wasn't out there, defending the fleet, she was in here, making sure she and everyone else could. But she supposed that was what she had signed on for, wasn't it?

When the announcement was made over the intercom, Kira Jax was draining the dregs of her caf, and she had cocked her ears to listen. She didn't know the name, didn't suppose it mattered, really. She'd do as ordered, nothing more, nothing less. She did want to know what that word meant, though. Looking around the bay again, she found two people discussing something animatedly. Judging by the announcement, it was probably that. Maybe they knew. It was rude to just jump in, but hell, they were all tired, and her manners were a bit rusty, anyway.

"Even if we could go back to Alliance turf, no point. The fight's here, now." The Dantooinian farm girl leaned against the recon fighter. "Either y'all happen to know what that word means? Ar'krai or whatever? I ain't too versed in many alien languages."

[member="Laira Vereen"], [member="Connory"]

 

[Mia Monroe]

Angel could feel the last dose of stims wearing off, the slight delay between her synapses firing and her body actually responding to her thought out instructions. Her tongue felt too big for her mouth too and she was aware of the need to blink continuously. Not much to look at but whire spots on a black back drop and the battered hull of the Solemn Purpose. She'd counted the scorchmarks on her starboard side already...

"Angel!" The squadron leaders sharp voice snapped her out of her stupor. "You're off course, tighten up."

"Sorry." She adjusted the trajectory of her X-wing and yawned. Flying the cap, they called it. They were the first response to whatever the Empire was to send at them while the rest of the fighters were scrambled. "What's the count?" she asked.

"Forty five minutes."

"Reckon we've driven them off?"

Angel snorted. "No. Dogs with bones, they'll keep coming till they can bury us."

"You're just a ray of sunshine aren't you, Angel."

"Just saying it as it is."

"In bound comm from the Purpose..."

Angel flicked her comm sequence over to listen, letting her eyes close for just a moment the words washing over her.

"Angel!" there was alarm in his voice this time.

"Feth. Sorry." She caught the yoke steering her nose away form what would have been a minor collision course. She'd been in this cockpit for eighteen hours, two rounds of stims and that was her lot. Any more in that time and she'd be considered unsafe for duty. So long as there was adrenaline, she was fine, but the wake up call hadn't shown.

"Cycle out Angel, you're done. Last thing I need is an accident." She didn't argue, peeling away from the patrol and angling towards the hangar bay. The thought of a cup of caff and maybe a nap brought a smile to her face. She'd not bunk, give her an hour and she'd be able to take another stim dose and the buzz would return. She came in a little to hot, earning her an earful from the Flight Deck Officer as she gouged a new hole along his landing pad. She made a display of removing her hearing aids, and chortled at the speed his face went from red to purple.

Opening the viewport she pulled off her helmet and found the purple faced officer at the top of her ladder. She blinked at him, and for the first time ever was actually grateful for her partial hearing. She stayed seated, expression blank letting him shout himself hoarse, waiting for him to stop before putting the hearing aids back in. "You done?"

"Yes."

"Good, get out of my way I need caff."

"Caff won't fix the scoring." He muttered as he descended, Angel simply rolled her eyes and followed him down the ladder. Tempers were running hot, patience was in short supply. This was Angel's first time on the front lines of a war, but oddly, she felt at home.

 

[Auri Vesta]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vP0nEO6q8iI&index=7&list=PL1IbDEw68S5MOfe-CrPpx0TP0xlCCYHnQ​

72 Hours Ago -- The Belsavis System

Auri awoke to the soft pinging of her ship's holocommunicator. Groaning, she rolled out of her bed. She shivered as her bare feet touched down on the cold durasteel floor. She padded out of her quarters and into the common room, where her ship's central communication system was located. Beyond the ringing, her ship was still and quiet. She'd finally found a place to rest after the incident on Annaj, and she'd put the ship into low power mode while she caught some sleep. A blue hologram of a man materialized as she answered the call.

"Captain Vesta, it's been a while." The scruffy-looking, bearded man spoke, grinning. "Good to see the First Order didn't get you on Annaj."

"What do you want Rosh?" Rosh Gendar, an old friend of hers from back during the heyday of the Republic. He'd got his start as a cargo hauler, same as her, but when they went their separate ways, he'd joined the Galactic Alliance as a intelligence operative. He liked to track her down every once and a while, and every time he had the annoying habit of knowing exactly where she was and where she'd been. She'd have to have her ship scanned for tracking beacons at the next spaceport.

"Come on, you missed me." He chuckled. "I've got a job for you, if you're willing. You hear about Thyferra?" She hadn't. She'd been a little busy the past couple weeks, she must have missed it. She shook her head.

"Really? Sith came out of nowhere, hit it pretty damn hard. We've got refugees scattered all over the place. Big mess. GA's trying to figure out how to respond. Point is, there's a fleet out there, running from the Sith, calling themselves the Resistance. They've gone dark to cover their tracks, but we've gotta do something to help them, even if they have gone rogue."

"So why are you contacting me? I'm sure the Alliance has plenty of cargo pilots at their beck and call." To be honest, she couldn't really afford to turn her nose up at any job at the moment, but she liked to play coy.

"Like I said, we're trying to figure out how to respond. They've openly declared war on half the governments in the galaxy, Alliance command isn't exactly happy about that. We're not ready to give them direct support yet. But you're a third party, if you track them down and smuggle them fuel and supplies, we'll make sure you're well paid." She sighed, the last thing she wanted to do was get tangled up in the Galactic Alliance's politics, but a job was a job.

"Okay, I'm in. There's a fueling station in this system, I'll load up on Rhydonium and track down this Resistance fleet. You owe me again kid, what is that? The third time? These favors are piling up, I'm gonna call them in someday."

"What can I say? You're a very useful contact to keep tabs on." He grinned again. "Now, take care of yourself out there, will ya?"

"I always do." She smiled back.

"Oh and one more thing.." He said with a sly look. "May the Force be with you!" He sped through the last line as quick as he could before cutting the communication. She rolled her eyes at the cliche. That smug bastard knew she hated stuff like that.

0 Hours -- Approaching The Seventeenth Fleet

Finally, she'd found something. Auri had been patrolling the quadrant around Thyferra for the last two days, and she'd yet to catch up with the Resistance fleet. Rosh had sent her the coordinates of the last place the GA had made contact with the fleet, but it hadn't been a fantastic place to start. The Sith were still tailing the Resistance, trying to track their beleaguered little collection of frigates before they got a chance to wage the war they'd declared only days earlier. It seemed so far, that they were successful in avoiding the Sith. The only wreckage she'd found in her patrols were a handful of fighters and light craft, none of the cruisers she knew were precious resources to a rogue fleet.

Now she'd found live ships. There were a handful of blips on the scanners, about the right size for this Resistance she was hunting. Of course, there was about an equal chance that this was a Sith patrol, but by now they were within capital ship sensor range so caution was pretty much out the window already. She quickly brought the weapons and shields online just in case.

"Vaun, get up here. I think we've found 'em." She spoke over the intercom. [member="Mereel Vaun"] was a Mandalorian mercenary friend of her's that she kept in regular contact with. They'd helped each other out a lot over the years, and by now had formed a loose partnership.

She then set her communications array to an open frequency and began to broadcast.

"This is Captain Auri Vesta of the Rimrunner. We've got a cargo hold full of Rhydonium for the Resistance. We are standing by, ready to comply to your approach protocols. Do you read Solemn Purpose?"

[member="Avi Soltani"] [member="Laira Vereen"]

 

[Zark San Tekka]

Even before he was fully conscious, Arix understood on some level that something was missing. Something was terribly wrong.

The jury rigged life support pod around him was keeping what was left of the young Jedi alive, but there was little these Alliance castaways who had carried him out of the rubble near Xucphra City could do to repair his cutting edge AskrimaCorp prostheses, ravaged as they had been by [member="Kazmai"] in the Thyferran jungles. So the medtechs aboard the Solemn Promise had done what they could for him, saving his life despite having little clue how to gauge his prospects. They had surgically removed the shrapnel from what remained of his body, reinflated his organic lung, and replaced his damaged cybernetic extremities with more standard models.

Even his visor had been irreparably crushed, necessitating an entirely new helmet cobbled together from spare parts and what remained of the functional tech inside Arix's original mask. It was like he was an entirely different person now, a different machine. And yet despite herculean efforts on the part of the Mon Cal cruiser's medical wing to keep him alive, the cyborg had nonetheless come away from the battle horrifically maimed. The new pieces he could accept, even come to embrace as a part of him. And yet every time he passed into awareness the pilot tried to scream, unable to do so with a damaged vocoder.

Arix Askrima could no longer feel the Force.

 

[Ohm-Lai]

[member="Avi Soltani"]

She had an idea, a hunch, you could say. Kensic shook the sleep from her eyes and wound through the corridors. They were packed with refugees, pilots, soldiers. Everyone crammed onto a ship that wasn't big enough for the lot of them. But hey, they would make it work. That was this whole thing was about. It was why Resistance Intelligence existed as well.

And that was what she was doing. She got down to the communications center and paused, eyes scanning. She needed somebody who wasn't working. There was one, a man, asking for someone to fix their caf machine.

Excellent. He needed something more important to do. Something much more important. She strode over and stood next to him, towering over his sitting form, despite the bags under her eyes and the greasy hair.

"I need you to send a message."

She slid a piece of old fashioned paper onto the paper. There were two columns. One was frequencies and the others was a coded message. Republic era code. It had been a long time since she'd needed to use these. Since anyone had used them, really. But someone would be listening. No, they were always listening.

It was the rallying call. All Republic forces who heard the message were to rally at the stated coordinates. Not that there were many left, but there would be some. She knew it.

"Priority message. From Resistance Intelligence."

 

[Ohm-Lai]

(Yet again)

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Kira didn't know the names for good reason. The Chief of State, the Supreme Commander, they were nobodies only a few days ago. Laira took a look around, noting the approaching. The redhead managed a smile at the new arrival. "No. I'm staying." She thought about her family, about what they might say or how they might react, but somethings were more important than that.

Her mother wanted her to accept responsibility and decide to one day be Queen of Alderaan. How was she supposed to do that if she left now, and went back to wait for the storm to find her home. The princess knew that her mother and father needed to stay behind, they needed to lead the planet and the Coalition, but someone needed to fight. "We need everybody we can get doing whatever they can to help out."

"Ar'krai. Its means total war to the Bothans, all available resources and personnel are expected to join up and fight to the last man to defeat an enemy and erase them from the history books. Its a strong sentiment, but I'm sure there will be some who disagree." Laira had to admit, it was a bit more than she had expected. In its ancient use, it called for total speciecide. Seeing that he had limited it to the Resistance Military, he was probably a bit more level headed than total fanaticism. It still bothered her. Where was the line now?

"We're in stand by now, so find some rack if you need it. Full gear though." That was the upside to wearing a comfortably bodysuit under her flightsuit, she hadn't started to exude the smell of rancid meat from four days without a shower. However the redhead picked up a hyrdospanner, "Need some help?" Maybe that's what would get them all through it; coming together, sacrificing for each other, helping each other throughout the war to come? She could only hope.

[member="Kira Jax"] [member="Connory"]
~

"Approved, come a mooring tether and space walk over if you wanna come aboard. Cargo space is still tight until we can get everyone situated." Came the response of a tired communication's officer. Most of the hangars were partially filled with cargo and belongings, while most of the cargo bays had been converted for refugee use. It would be hectic for a while longer before things settled and they found their footing, if they ever had long enough to do that.

[member="Auri Vesta"]
(NPC folks as you like, this is pretty chilled out meeting.)

 

[Mereel Vaun]

Mereel had finished securing the last of his armor plating when he heard Auri summoning him over the Rimrunner's intercomm. When she told him that they were going to be spending this voyage running fuel out to ships running away from the First Order he had wanted nothing to do with it.

Originally, Mereel had looked for ways to get out of travelling with her on the mission. He had served in Mandalorian fighting forces for years, and all that got him in the end was the installation of a Mandalorian Empire that exiled force users. From what he knew of the Resistance they had ideals similar to his own and seemed to not hate force users like his own kind did, but he didn't want to waste time fighting for a cause that would betray him again so he had remained reluctant.

He eventually decided to go along with Auri's idea while pretending to hate it. He was going to try to use the voyage as leverage to convince her to go wampa hunting with him on Glacies Domum once they were done here. Mereel strapped his rifle over his shoulder and holstered his DL-18 as he entered the Rimrunner's cockpit.

He plopped himself in the copilot seat. Through the viewport he saw the Seventeenth fleet in its full glory. "Awaiting your orders, Captain Vesta." Mereel said sarcastically. He kicked his boots up onto the copilot console for good measure.


[member="Auri Vesta"]

 

[Jorga the Hutt]

[member="Kira Jax"] [member="Laira Vereen"]

Connory eyed the half-empty cup and shook his head. He slid back into the fighter until the only bits protruding were his flesh-and-metal knee joints. "Not unless your hydrospanner knows its way around an Angel Eye sensor package. One slip and you'll learn more than you ever wanted to about graviton modulation. Thanks, though."

He should have been more polite to the other girl, should have at least acknowledged her presence. Should have done a lot of things, but right now all he wanted to do was finish tuning the Angel Eye and crash.

The ar'krai thing hung on like a splinter of bone between his teeth. Fanaticism in shiny clothes. Then again he'd be a hypocrite to object.

 

[Karsan Munin]

He arrived on one of the smaller shuttles, carrying soldiers. They knew he was different. He looked different. Dressed differently. Didn't say anything. And he only carried a few select personal items- and gear. Everything he had was custom-made. Tailored to the man sitting on the shuttle with the other Resistance fighters and Marines. He tapped his boots on the hull of the shuttle, before it urched forward, then downward, and a hissing noise signified the equalization of pressure inside and out. The ramp slowly lowered, and Karsan was huddled off the shop.

What he came to was a sad sight. A group of people, desperate and starving, but determined to do nothing more than to fight and win- but for now they were surviving. Karsan adjusted the blastvest on his person, before walking forward. People stopped and looked at the man in black, before going back to doing whatever they were doing. Karsan didn't have a specific mission as of right now- after all, what was a Commando to do in space, anyway?

Sit and wait. Wait and see.

But he had a vendetta against the Sith. One that he'd see fulfilled. He hated them, oh-so-thoroughly. He hated a lot of things- he was man built on and made of usually nothing more than anger and vendettas. Against his absentee father. Against the One Sith for making him who he was. And the prisons of the Republic- although he wasn't too mad about that. He'd lock up the enemy too. They released him, after a while. He was a prisoner of war, not a criminal.

Karsan set his bag down and watched the pilots take catnaps in the cockpits. They smelled- unshowered smell. They had been running on nothing more than willpower. But they needed to hygiene, needed to get a proper rest cycle. They needed a lot, but didn't have much. Karsan sighed and made his way further inward, stopping to take in what he was getting himself into. These people all wanted the same thing he did. Total, wholesale slaughter.

To any Jedi in the room, he was a fish out of water- nobody was as ice-cold angry as he was. He agreed with the Bothan method. It was the only true way to make sure the Sith would never rear their ugly head again. Salt the Earth, boil the oceans- kill 'em all. Kill 'em all and let the Force sort 'em out. That's what he wanted. And that was oozing from in the force. Ice-cold brutality. The Force moved darkly around those who had killed, or who planning to kill. It was a practical abyss around Karsan, who didn't want to kill, no he wanted to exterminate.

He'd kill every single person that got in his way- and maybe, anyone who was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, if need be. Any ends justified the means to him. Not even a Jedi was needed to see that. It was in his eyes alone. He was a killer, a surgically precise instrument of death that had been set loose by the Alliance. And now, the Resistance offered him a chance to do what he did best.

Kill people.


[member="Mereel Vaun"] l [member="Laira Vereen"] l [member="Kensic Varais"] [member="Auri Vesta"] l [member="Angel"] l [member="Kira Jax"] l [member="Avi Soltani"]

 

[Shamira Karuto]

[SIZE=12pt]There was a mixed reaction to the speech that came over the speaker system that Shamira was able discern as she walked past various maintenance crews and pilots. Obviously, some had no idea what Ar'krai meant or what it’s connotation was. Others, who did know, obviously disagreed with the ruling and looked downtrodden. No doubt they would be among the ones to either request a dropoff or would go back to the Galactic Alliance. The ones that agreed were certainly the loudest, letting out cheers and whoops of enthusiasm.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]Shamira’s reaction was much more subdued, but she definitely agreed with the Bothan. A total war, on every front, would be the only way to have a chance against a stronger, better equipped, and a more numerous enemy. And if the padawan had on the front lines to do it, then so be it. She surely wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty if it meant winning a war.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]The Togruta and her partner droid walked into what was very quickly becoming a crowded mess hall. It seemed like a lot more pilot’s were either downing caf, taking stims, or taking naps slouched onto the tables. Shamira’s eyes quickly fell on a particular pilot, who which when she saw her, let out a small sigh of relief. The Padawan had faith in Laira that she would make it out alive, but it was wonderful to see the fire headed warrior. Grinning ear to ear, she retrieved a cup of caf from one of the few pots left, then proceed over to Laira, sitting behind her with a grin. “Glad to see you still in one piece.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]| [/SIZE][member="Laira Vereen"] |​