Wayland's Phrik Is The Best Phrik (Salvor Arnex)

[The Red of Sinner]

Wayland was a ways far away from where the base of operations was, but the Phrik was needed for some important stuff, like armor, and that sort of stuff. Salvor was in need of something better than what he was wearing. He looked dirty, but Romeo wouldn't say that out loud, not unless it was needed to be said. The freighter they were in was one of Romeo's personal ships, a Payday. With two other people flying the ship, Romeo and Salvor sat a table, waiting to reach the planet.​

"Death was...an interesting experience. The Netherworld is not a place I would want to go back to anytime soon. I have missed a lot it would seem...Salvor what did you do after I parted this life? How do you feel about my return to it? Do you still wish to kill me, do you still hate me?" ​

Romeo leaned into the table he sat at, placing his elbows on the table, and his hands over his mouth with no hint of expression on his face. His thoughts rushed as to what happened to his children. He knew Erika was safe, Jarven was a strong man, and a loyal man. His meeting with him was fruitless. Ganks were like that. He was beginning to hate Ganks too.​

His eyes of blood red tint watched the table waiting for Salvor to reply.​

[member="Salvor Arnex"]​

 

[Kuryr]

The Raptor slid through space carefully, it';s belly now empty of slaves that had been disgorged on to Wayland. The Primeval's rebuilding effort was proving to be extremely good for his business. The crew was well fed and they were happy, but they were getting soft as well. He needed a legitimate target to keep them blood thirsty, and he may have just found it. the target was a small freighter, hardly big enough to have much on it, but then, as long as there were people aboard, there was enough blood for the crew to spill.

" Dekka, target the freighter and send a warning shot across its bow" He said to the old gungan that was sitting in the commander's chair. He watched the crew as they moved from stand my into action. His ship far outclassed the smaller freighter in guns and maneuverability. He had faith in his crew and knew that blood was soon to be spilled. "Chuka prepare boarding teams, and inform the loadmaster we may have some new cargo to appraise.."

He stepped forward to the weapons station and watched the gunner fire a few shots, nearly missing the smaller ship. He thought about hailing the ship and giving them a greeting, but he figured that the laser fire would be greeting enough

[member="Romeo Sin"] [member="Bellatrix Celvina"]

 

[Aleksandyr Gaillard]

Fleet: x1 Boar-class Assault Cruiser | x2 Gulandi-class Escort Frigates | x2 Bastion-class Gunboats | x2 Penumbra-class Interdictor

The 33rd patrol flotilla was just a fraction of the fleet stationed at Wayland, Jost Nasscal was its commanding officer.

"Sir, we're picking up reports from our picket scanners. Sensors indicate a freighter approaching the world." The woman's fingers were pressing away at various glyphs on the digital display.

Another officer was reviewing system specifications and other relevant data retrieved from the Bastion-class' long-range sensors. "Looks to be armed, but it's no warship."

"What about our Penumbras?" Jost's eyes were facing directly out the viewport, towards the empty black. The officer was impatient, waiting for an engagement and now he finally had a chance to do something... Even if the enemy was merely a freighter and posed no threat to the fleet defenses.

His second-in-command approached, "no one gets in or out unless we want them two. Both are cloaked on internal and external parameters; any reinforcements would have to arrive the long way once they approach the interdiction field." The young female lieutenant was just as eager as he was. If perhaps not more so; this was an opportunity for promotion. Jost's latest endeavors had given him command of a Boar-class cruiser, a fearsome ship nonetheless but hardly befitting of anyone's ambitions.

"Wait--" The sensory officer's eyes were visibly puzzled, "there's another ship. Unidentified. Sensors indicate that its weapons have been discharged, it seems to be engaging the freighter." Her voice cracked whilst she gathered composure when realizing what was going on. An unexpected ally -- or perhaps another enemy.

Jost rose from his command chair, "intercept the enemy at once, send out a message; command them to surrender." He spoke firmly but deep down inside he was itching for a fight.

A message was sent to [member="Romeo Sin"]: Surrender your ship immediately or be destroyed. You have forty-five seconds to comply.

[member="Kuryr"]

Spoiler: Summary of Actions

> Interdiction fields are in place. Penumbra ships are cloaked. One is on the far side behind the freighter, preventing reinforcements from approaching the well. Another is within the well itself preventing anyone from leaving via hyperspace.

>Fleet is approaching to intercept the freighter.

>A message was sent out demanding surrender.

 

[Armand Temi]

Bellatrix stood by her master, [member="Kuryr"] while he appraised the target in his sights. The half-Chiss slave didn't feel as though she was soft like the rest of the crew, although Chukka would beg to differ. Unfortunately her spice habit was as strong as ever. It wasn't something that the Taung Pirate denied her and thank the maker, for that she thought. She had her normal supply of death sticks on her, always keeping an eye for when she may run low.

Was their relationship symbiotic? In a way, yes. He supplied her with the drugs she needed, and in turn, she repaid him with her unflinching devotion. She looked over at him and shifted her weight, holding tight to the Whistler Carbine she would bring into battle if the occasion arose.

While her training with [member="Darth Pyrrhus"] hadn't advanced that much she felt she was learning how to be a competent soldier, and eventually an assassin who could infiltrate and kill with the slightest of touches.

She smirked as Kuryr engaged the unwelcome guest of Wayland, and she settled into the familiar pattern of waiting for his orders.

[member="Romeo Sin"] [member="Jost Nasscal"]

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

Conveniently, the unnamed Shadow-class Reconnaissance Corvette chose this moment to drop out of hyperspace. On it, it carried a humble amount of Nautolan troops, straight from Glee Anselm, and of course, its commander and captain, Darth Pyrrhus.

The Sith Knight had not been there for the battle of Wayland, although his master, Darth Vornskr, had. He had heard the stories, and seen his master's scars. To see the battlefield for himself was something he looked forward to. Though the dead and wounded would have been removed, and the effort to rebuild had begun, these wounds tended to linger longer in the Force. What secrets would Wayland have for him? His apprentice was here as well, another factor playing into his presence here now. Her training had begun, but she had still a long way to go. Perhaps she would find her next lesson in the mass graves of Wayland?

His ship's strength lay in stealth. It was not a beast of war, but it made do. Would the fleet of Primeval pick up on his signals? He wasn't sure. This would have been the first time he attempted to sneak past a fleet, had he chosen to do so. Despite being tempted, he decided this was neither the time nor the place. He was an ally, so he had nothing to fear. Moreover, there appeared to be a situation developing. Would he get a little warm-up before he began to tangle with whatever Wayland had to offer?

"This is Darth Pyrrhus, of One Sith. We are approaching your position now." The Togruta knight, clad in the traditional black garbs of the Sith opened a line of communication with [member=Jost Nasscal]. "Requesting permission to land on Wayland. And... There appears to be a situation. Do you require assistance?" He added the offer, though he doubted they'd require it. If he did, Pyrrhus gave him the opportunity to consider his ship as one of his own, and command it as such. They seemed to have the situation under control, they far outnumbered the freighter, and had far superior firepower. He surmised the small freighter would not possess the equipment to detect him. The frigate attacking it might've been in a similar situation, though this could just as well be because they were otherwise occupied. He'd just have to find that out for himself. At this point, it appeared that whatever the freighter and its crew hoped to accomplish was bringing in far more trouble than what it was worth.

[member=Romeo Sin] | [member=Kuryr] | [member=Jost Nasscal] | [member=Bellatrix Celvina]

 

[Salvor Arnex]

[member="Romeo Sin"]

"I...We...The Imperium tried to move on after your death my king. The dynasty could not hold itsself together and it seemed we were tied much to close with its failings. The Imperium is dead, I failed. A few hundred of my men remain eternally loyal, we've been searching for..." Salvor trailed off as he looked at his former king. It was not safe to tell even Romeo what he searched for.

"Your return leaves me, puzzled your grace. How is it you defeated death?" Salvor was much calmer and easier with Romeo than he had ever been before. Romeo returning from the dead has earned alot of respect for the hardheaded Zabraki.

"I do not hate you Romeo Sin." No, Salvor never did hate him. truly it was something much closer to envy, but since Salvor had never envied anyone anything he mistook his feelings for hate and disgust. It became clear after the vision of his long dead mother that Salvor craved something that came so easy to Romeo. Love. Family.

"And it would seem killing you would not amount to much." it was as close to a joke as the Zabraki knew how to tell.
alarms blared throughout the freighter as an enemy ship fired shots over there bow.
"It seems we have a welcoming commitee."

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Nautolans was not the only personnel [member="Darth Pyrrhus"] brought on his ship. Within the hull sat Darth Ophidia meditating to pass the time during space-travel. As an experienced scout and assassin, she had a lot to teach about survival and reconnaissance outside of Glee Anselm. However, something brought her out of her trance as she felt the tinge of impending combat.

She loosened her neck by swaying her neck back and forth, then stood up. She shot one of he Nautolans a small smile, he had previously entertained her by playing some Nautolani jazz, quite the talent. He was not too bad in the field either. The Rattataki Knight loosened her limbs with a few shakes of her hands and feet, then proceeded to the bridge to meet with Darth Pyrrhus. One of her hands gripped her beskar helmet, and held it tightly at her side, the other rested near where her lightsabre was clipped.

"Darth Pyrrhus, is there a problem?"

There was an element of curiosity in her voice as she glided up next to the captain and commander of the ship and its Nautolan forces.

[member="Salvor Arnex"] [member="Romeo Sin"] @Kuryr @Bellatrix Celvina [member="Jost Nasscal"]

Spoiler

Just mentioning everybody

 

[Lok Jorunn]

Aboard the Defiance, Wayland system.

That was the bad thing about interdiction operations; they affected everyone. Everyone. When Captains and Admirals liked to give out orders restricting access to whatever system it was, it halted all traffic to and fro. Whether the planet was a destination or a stop point to refuel and make repairs, it didn't matter. It was a good security measure but when you had major problems, restricting trade and business matters was never something beneficial.

"Sir, we're being pulled out of hyperspace. Interdiction vessels; probably a whole damn fleet waiting for us. Pirates, maybe."

Lok glanced at Alai, his Noghri first mate, with a sigh. "I've no clue what it is but it's not like we're doing anything illegal."

"Lok," Alai folded his arms over, "We've got over seventy tons of weaponry, explosives, and war-making material in the cargo hold. It's all for the Mandalorians too."

"Exactly, it's for the Mandos. Don't they control this system?"

The Noghri shrugged. "You know I don't keep up with politics - that's above my paygrade."

The Rebel Commander heaved another sigh and figured it was best to get up and about before they got sucked out of hyperspace. Lok rose from the captain's chair, fastening the top buttons of his uniform. "Alert the crew and get them into their battlestations, but I want the weapons powered down just in case we're running into a freakin' battle fleet." Lok glanced at the bridge crew, "And be ready to bug out if need be."

"Aye, Cap'n."

They had nothing to worry about. Their transponders were marked under neutral affiliation, supposedly serviced to various planetary governments spanning from Republic space to the Levantine oversectors.

[member="Darth Ophidia"], [member="Salvor Arnex"], [member="Darth Pyrrhus"], [member="Bellatrix Celvina"], [member="Jost Nasscal"], [member="Kuryr"], [member="Romeo Sin"]

 

[Zambrano the Starweird]

Lovely Wayland. Busy Wayland! Lovely, busy, burning Wayland. Zambrano's eyes were in that orange glint as they observed the aftermath of the grand battle which sacked the Mandalorian planet into his authority. Well, not his direct authority, but his authority enough given it was under Primeval control. Besides, the Hutt was sort of hazy on the topic of just what authority was. Captain Slika seemed to think he knew what it was, and explained it to him several times whenever the slug got too friendly... but he didn't really listen.

Only pain commanded authority, and few living things in the galaxy could dish out pain and fear in such heinous manners as a psychopath of his caliber. It was why the Directory feared him, and sought to control him, because he placed a nagging pain in their hearts known as fear. They had come to fear the slug and his growing promise as the most despicable monster in the Primeval arsenal, and thus believed that the fear he naturally induced upon them should be universal to the rest of the galaxy. So far, this had proven to the truth. His enemies, hating and loathing him, would also seek to destroy him... rather than his far more cunning servants, of whom they were the true threat.

Long hours had been spent to harness the potential of the mad Hutt, to learn methods by which his insanity could be most capitalized upon, and manipulated to their uses. As a pilot, he became an extension of his vong ship, an extremely effective scalpel when present in a fleet, so long as his bloody desires could be met as a result of his use. On the ground, his influence over the enslaved masses was unquestionably powerful, and even though ordinarily these senseless being would have no use to them as soldiers, the wolf that was quickly becoming of Zambrano, herded them into very efficient Sheep of Destruction.




Now however, as the Directory watched over the object of their alliance, who aimlessly stared at the rising smoke of the burned forests of Wayland, where hundreds of Primeval and Mandalorians died in only a few instances of each other in a hopeless maneuver to ward off the Primeval, they began to worry... that the fear he induced may be... too much. His growing power in the dark side was beginning to become disconcerting... and with the appearance of Darth Voracitos onto the scene, well... they were beginning to doubt their ability to actively control their most valuable resource.

Only now it seems, the Directory finally realizes the monster that they created. Had they not banded together... had they not forged an alliance to manipulate this creature to their own benefit... perhaps the beasty would have eventually subsided in its use, and would have been disposed of like the scum it truly was. But now they realized their folly, as they have inflated the image and power of what was intended to be a figurehead... and now they feared it was beginning to take on a will of its own. For now at least, it could be distracted... but how much longer until the demon that they had summoned to the fore of the Primeval image, becomes not the puppet... but the brutal puppeteer?


Pondering this, Captain Slika was on the ground of Wayland, watching the midnight creature from a distance at its stupid stupor. Calculating just how long he had to live based on recent statistics. His eyes looked at those amalgamated hands, revealing the slowly growing bones beneath... that strange creature (the Vaapad, "Lovey") that avoided his afflictions and nestled into the folds of his neck. His mind thought of the, "other asset" they had acquired in Darth Voracitos, and laughed sardonically in his head. His presence did not become an asset to their relatively secret organization, it became a direct threat that the strings attached to Zambrano would be ripped from the five member party's hands and placed into that fat man's grip.... and the Directory would be the strings.

"Enough thinking Captain Slika... just enjoy it!" That eerily innocent voice chimed into the silence, meanwhile hundreds of slaves were being driven to their deaths in order to collect as much of the Phrik material they could manage. No current plans were had for it, but since they were here, they may as well strip the planet of its worth before heading off world. Shivering in irritation, the Captain merely stared at that tatooed slug.

[member="Romeo Sin"], [member="Kuryr"], [member="Jost Nasscal"], [member="Bellatrix Celvina"], [member="Darth Pyrrhus"], [member="Salvor Arnex"], [member="Darth Ophidia"], [member="Lok Jorunn"] (Tagged everyone for giggles)

 

[The Red of Sinner]

Romeo listened intently to the Zabrak, feeling that a small connection had begun to grow between the two, and was glad to see that maybe the man was beginning to trust him. It seemed he was hunting something, but was not ready to tell Romeo what it was, but the Vahla opted not to press it on to what he was searching for. "It would seem a lot more has changed than I am comfortable Salvor, but I am no king, not anymore. That was a mistake to place myself in a seat of such power. It went to my head, and corrupted my ideology. This is not something that will..." Romeo was cut off as a message was sent to the ship from a incoming fleet. Romeo sighed to Salvor's words. "So it would seem..." Romeo then went to the cockpit to see what was happening. It would seem that not only did the Mando's wont a surrender, but the Primevil had followed with Sith backing them up. He wondered if they knew who this ship belonged to. No, that was impossible. Romeo only used this ship once, and that was ages ago. Another ship, one flying colors Romeo didnt recognize was there too. A thought popped into his head.

[member="Jost Nasscal"]
"This is the Jigoku, requesting aid. I repeat, we need aid. One Sith, and Primevil have been chasing us. We thought we lost em' but it seems we were wrong. We will surrender, but we are being attacked. Kinda hard to surrender and defend one's self ya know?"
Romeo spoke into the coms to the demands requested from the Mando planet. He looked over to Salvor with a smile. "We'll get to beat some Sith, and Primevil all the while...we'll get Phrik without making new enemies. Thinking two steps ahead."

[member="Zambrano the Hutt"] [member="Lok Jorunn"] [member="Darth Ophidia"] [member="Darth Pyrrhus"] [member="Bellatrix Celvina"] [member="Kuryr"]

 

[Aleksandyr Gaillard]

Jost's cruiser maintained course as the 33rd patrol flotilla closed onto the small freighter. With the system effectively locked down, The fleet stationed at Wayland could easily deal with anyone who attempted to sneak on through thanks to the long-range scanners; no traffic--other than their own--was allowed through.

Before Jost could respond to their response, "We've received word from a Sith vessel, sir. They're requesting permission to land on Wayland and if we require their assistance." The officer relayed the jist of their message to the commanding officer. Jost sighed, sitting back down into his command chair; the Sith were glory hounds, at least he thought so. This was his engagement but at the same time he realized the value of another ship all too well.

"Tell them they have permission to land but that their ship is on standby to receive orders," he waved his hand dismissively to hurry the response.

"Another vessel has been detected, it's tagged as civilian," she glanced back towards Jost.

His eyes narrowed, hands tenting as he reclined back in the seat of his chair. "This space is restricted, demand their immediate surrender; send a gunboat to assure this is the case." Orders were orders, no unauthorized vessels were allowed entry into Primeval space, let alone Wayland which was still a recent conquest.

Finally, with no more surprises, Jost turned his attention back to the original target; the freighter that just offered their surrender. Either he was lying or word had yet to be sent, because Wayland was under the control of The Primeval--allies of the Mandalorians would be disappointed, there's no help here. "Demand their immediate surrender. Get that other ship on com, ask them what the hell they're doing." He was less happy than before.

"We're in weapons range, sir. Main guns."

"Lock onto target, show them that we can blow 'em out of reality if they don't comply." Shortly afterwards the heavy, long range main guns of the boar-class assault cruiser were locked onto their target; a fact enemy sensors could likely pick up on.

@Kuryr: Identify yourselves immediately,failure to do so or unwarranted actions will result in your immediate destruction.

[member="Romeo Sin"]: Surrender. Our weapons are locked onto your vessel, we will fire in thirty seconds unless we see your weapons, shields, and engines powered down.

[member="Lok Jorunn"]: Civilian ship, this is restricted space. Surrender your vessel immediately for inspection, illegal goods will be confiscated but your ship will remain yours and afterwards you're free to leave the system.

Spoiler: Summary of Actions

> Continued closing in on [member=Romeo Sin] with fleet.

>Sent one Gunboat towards [member=Lok Jorunn] to oversee surrender.

>Locked weapons onto [member=Romeo Sin].

>Sent out a few messages.

 

[Lok Jorunn]

Aboard the Defiance, Wayland system.

"They're ordering us to immediately surrender, and they put emphasis on immediately."

Lok scratched the scruff on his chin. "I guess we'll just have to surrender then. Get the cargo crews working immediately and have 'em conceal the goodies we've got stored in the hangar bay."

Alai still seemed a bit disgruntled, something that Noghri never felt. "What about the crew? They're all carrying weapons, wearing armor, and every surface of their clothing bears the emblem of the Rebel Alliance. These people definitely aren't Mandalorians - Mandalorians like to identify themselves; it's a pride thing."

"That's true. Me and you will have to stall them or something." The commander pursed his lips and started for his personal quarters. It was time to change into his simple, beige worker's clothes along with the usual Sentinel utility belt clasped about his waist with a blaster pistol to finish it off. Alai was wearing the simple robes typical of your average Noghri, though a plethora of small blades and knives were hidden on his person.

Lok called back to the bridge just before he left, "Let 'em board on port three. Keep the engines hot to give ourselves a wide berth and bail if somethin' goes down. You should know that I like t' stay on my toes."

An affirmation was given and then the Captain and his First Mate were off to await a boarding team.

[member="Jost Nasscal"], [member="Romeo Sin"], [member="Darth Ophidia"], [member="Salvor Arnex"], [member="Darth Pyrrhus"], [member="Bellatrix Celvina"]