Where did the ship go? (The Tainted Chorus raid of Alexandria vs The Commonwealth)

[Darth Abyss]

Space, one mircojump from Alexandira

The Phasma-class Infiltrator rested in the vacuum of space, only slightly drifting forward in the endless darkness. On board was one of the most dangerous and exactly as ambitious groups of this galaxy, composed of those who earned their right to wear the title of Lord inside the ranks of the sith, masters of the darkness with many battles under their belts, exotic abilities and experience that passed that of most common men and woman, and their apprentices and allies. They all had heard the call of revolution in a constantly shifting galaxy, and they all knew that their time had finally come. For to long they all had bowed, now it was time that people would bow to them, but not in the way others would archive that. Many who wielded so much power of the dark side became blinded by it, failing to see through their own illusion of greatness, and beyond the limits of their little world of empires to rule. Not Abyss, and not his allies. Greatness wasn't given, it was taken, but of was volatile, ever fading if one had no plan to keep it. And so he had gathered them, not only masters of the force, but masters of the shadows, that would see everything, hear everything and change the course of the galaxy accordingly, while staying unseen and unheard themselves.

They had plans, great plans, long plans, but to execute them they still had to gather assets. One such an asset was a ship of respectable size, not to big to be suspicious, but still large and well armed enough to be superiors to most vessels found in the civilian and private sector. To get it they had to do one simple thing. Letting it disappear. To many this sounded like an impossible task, but to a sith not so much. Under the guidance of Darth Lykos, Abyss had forged six rune plates, old letters carved into stone. They would do the trick, at least if everything would go right, allowing the sith lords to create a photokinetic barrier around the ship, if they would get through with the ritual to activate them, and if they would manage to keep their focus for long enough to get in an out. It was the first time they tried it, maybe the first time anyone at all tried that.

Such a task wasn't a one team job, his time he had spend in the criminal underworld told him that much. Exactly this time would come in handy today, as he had used his contacts to recruit elements of the underworld which would be the body to the shadow they were. Their task was simple: Create chaos, drag the enemy out, and do their best to keep anyone from noticing them. The infiltrators stealth systems should to their part, but putting all trust in technology could get one killed fast in the known universe.

The Target was the world Alexandira, or more precise the shipyard there, ruled by the commonwealth, a fringe government with a rather bad opinion on those gifted with the force. That had one big advantage for a group composed out of sith, as they had the edge when it came to the unconventional and unorthodoxy compared to their enemy. If that was enough would show soon enough. After the jump there would be no communication between the two teams, to ensure that they would truly be undetectable as long as possible. Abyss gave the last signal, before initiating the jump. From here it was mainly a question of timing, as they would leave the hyperspace out of the commonwealths sensors reach, and drift through space from there, to make the best of the ships stealth systems. They had a rough time plan, so the other team would know when they would be in reach of the ships, so they could jump in at the best possible time. It was risky, but Abyss had full trust in everyone that would assist him today.


Space before Alexandria, fringes of the Commonwealths estimated sensor range.

The infiltrator entered real space, only to instantly activate the stygium cloaking systems, rendering the ship as close to invisible as possible, both from a visual and a sensoric perspective. They would need some time to get close from here, there was a reason why most travels where made in hyperspace. Still the time was not wasted. Abyss made sure the stone plates were safely stored in a bag that he strapped on his back, and that he had all his gear ready, just in case. The others would probably to the same. Then he began to check the rest of gadgets he had brought with him for this task. Energy based shields that allowed to breath and survive in the vacuum of space for a short time, just enough to cut a entrance in the shell of a ship. Explosives, should the be forced to clean out larger parts of the ship at once, a possibility he would rather avoid if possible, and electromagnetic grenades should they feel the need to deactivated any systems on board of the ship in a less dangerous fashion. He turned around to the team, giving each of the a long look to see how they would prepare for what was to come. Time was running down, but they still had to wait a bit, so each of them had time to make last preparations. Once on board they would split in teams, each of them tasked with taking over or disableing a system of the ship.

[member="Darth Lykos"] [member="Darth Ferox"] [member="Tirdarius"] [member="Darth Roth"] [member="Eshtaol Hyde"] [member="Evaelyn Zambrano"] [member="Desmond C'artyom"]

Spoiler

OOC Thread

 

[Froste]

Aboard a Phasma-Class Infiltrator

Darth Roth sat aboard the ship with the rest of his team, now sitting in real space. They had already bid farewell to their distraction team and went underway, beginning the mission. Looking through his battle-battered mask, Roth watched [member="Darth Abyss"] go through his bag. Roth nodded once and pulled his own pack off of his back. He opened it tenderly and rummaged through quickly. Inside held the same shields that would protect him from the vacuum, the last resort explosives and a few electromagnetic grenades. Just to be on the safe side, the Sith Knight checked everything once more. Content with his bag, he shut it and almost put it on his back once again when he hesitated. Roth reached up and pulled his mask off of his face and shoved it inside one of the smaller pockets. He usually wore the mask around those he saw as inferior, men of his army and the like. However, the men he was seated with aboard this Infiltrator were quite the opposite. They were all brothers and sisters in this darkness.

Roth gave a quick look across all those accompanying him. The only one he had been introduced to thus far was Darth Abyss. It was no matter, however. These men and women were bound by the same laws of the Chorus as he, and he was sure they understood the importance of this mission as well. Roth reached down and grazed the hilt of his saber before giving his attention to Darth Abyss and sending a single nod to notify him that Roth was ready for the mission.

[member="Tirdarius"] [member="Darth Lykos"] [member="Darth Ferox"] [member="Eshtaol Hyde"] [member="Evaelyn Zambrano"] [member="Desmond C'artyom"]

 

[Teynara Jeralyr]

| [member="Darth Abyss"] | [member="Darth Roth"] | [member="Darth Ferox"] | [member="Eshtaol Hyde"] | [member="Evaelyn Zambrano"] | [member="Desmond C'artyom"] |​

The ebb and flow of hyperspace currents swirled within his thoughts, flowing past the cockpit of the compact vessel, a swirl of blue and white light moving faster than the eyes might physically track. The sensation of it was truly hard to explain: they had pushed beyond the bounds of normal space and moved into a place where the subtle motions of their ship would propel them beyond the barrier of lightspeed, moving faster than they could really comprehend. And though I have done this thousands of times, the sensation is never anything less than unsettling. It was wrong, truly: an aberration accepted due to convenience, a point when they moved away from their own reality and into something else entirely.

Even the Force felt wrong. It did not dominate hyperspace the way that it did everywhere else in the Galaxy: it was present within the sealed air-tight ship only because there were living beings aboard. But outside, nothing. Whether it was because they were simply travelling too fast to gain a grasp of those tempestuous energies, or whether they were truly absent, he could not have said. But the absence of something beyond the bulkhead of the vessel was disconcerting, a simple wrongness.

A soft sigh escaped the Sith Lord as he knelt on the deck plate of the small vessel, a simple infiltrator designed to deliver them to a destination at the end of their journey through the darkness between stars. His presence here was something of an irregularity as well: he was not in the habit of working with other Sith in such a capacity, but he had been asked to do so, and he had answered the summons accordingly. The role he had chosen was one of simple concealment: he was not aligned with the others here, beyond their mutual allegiance to the Sith ways, so it was not truly his fight.

His own presence within the Force could barely be detected as he had drawn his senses inward, using those potent energies as a cloak, to conceal his own presence and that of the others aboard. For now it was a small matter, but he would have to extend that cloak into the physical once they emerged from hyperspace: to conceal them from detection while the infiltration proceeded. No doubt exhausting me in the process, but such is a small price to pay if the others succeed.

"We will not have long to escape detection," he rasped coldly, a slight hint of fatigue present in his voice as he spoke to the others. "Once we have docked, I'll drop the cloak, so take appropriate precautions." Perhaps that had already been factored in, or perhaps the strike force would not care to remain hidden while they completed whatever their objectives were. "I trust you'll all be careful. Your 'chorus' would suffer much if your numbers were to be heavily reduced in your first operation," he added wryly, not truly giving a damn if any of them survived. Only the strong will walk away, and win the day. The others simply played with toys they were not smart enough to control.

 

[The Upright Man]

Objective: Investigate Hyperspace Disturbance - Identify Possible OpFor
Tag: [member="Tirdarius"] | [member="Darth Roth"] | [member="Jackson Mills"] | [member="Darth Abyss"] | [member="Cait Falcor"] | [member="Sasha Starkos"] | [member="Janice Lastimosa"] | [member="George"] | [member="Eli Brooks"] | [member="Isaac Knight"] | [member="Gunther Creed"]
________________

[ T H E M E ]

0910 hours, 8.2.849 (military calendar)
Deck E-TEN, CNS Agincourt,
HOME FLEET, Alexandrian Orbit,
Alexandria, Cadi System, Unknown Regions​

Since Cerea Dean had been puzzled. Fireteam Black was shattered. Marguerite had vanished along with Horus and the entire crew of the CNS Twelfth Night. How does such a gargantuan ship simply vanish? He wondered. Commonwealth forces were momentarily distracted by the sacrifice of the men and women of the CNS Surprise, their actions would forever be marked in the history books. While eyes were on the Surprise, the Twelfth Night disappeared, and the surrounding battlegroup reported their own vessels had suddenly suffered unexplainable structural damage, as well as core engines overheating and hyperdrives reportedly offline and unable to be brought back up without a total system reboot.

Some mysteries would go unanswered, or so Dean resigned himself to thinking. With the absense of Marguerite Podolsky, Fireteam Black was made inactive, with Hadiyya being assigned to a Marine Corps unit patrolling the far outskirts of Commonwealth space. Dean was thrown in with the navy lot, Mikado-Nine was now an official unit comprised of one Jaguar and three CST's, every now and again the unit would be attached to some Marine Corps squad but otherwise remained in the home system until the unlikely return of the Twelfth Night. A lot had happened in a little over one month, it felt like his whole life had been turned upside down. Unfortunately, Dean wasn't able to continue that train of thought. Pat poked his head through a doorway into their shared barracks. "Oi, bucket-head, 'Capt's given Mikado-Nine a mission. The rats have picked up a hyperspace disturbance on the edge of the system. Scanners aren't picking up a ship now, but they swear there was one for a brief second, and there's no explanation for a hyperspace disruption. Home Fleet is on standby, Battlegroup Uluru is moving in to investigate, guess who just got assigned to Uluru - us."

As quickly as he spoke, the shock trooper was gone, leaving the Jaguar alone with his thoughts. It never made him comfortable that the fly-boys referred to intelligence as rats, but hey, for some unknown reason they seemed to like it. Though it worried him, Alexandria was an uncharted planet, and only three nations knew of their location; First Order, Iron Empire and the Techno Empire. Either someone had betrayed them, or someone had followed them home. Then again, intel was saying there isn't a ship, or at least there was and is no longer. Was it the Twelfth Night? he idly wondered, but just as quickly pushed that thought aside. No point in raising hope when there was no cause for him to hold hope. He glanced over to Mills bunk, there was someone sleeping under the blankets. He'd raise the alarm and wake up the jarhead when he was finished suiting up.

 

[Richard Campbell]

Captain Richard Campbell stood on the bridge of the CNS Agincourt near the forward viewport, surveying the star field in front of him. His hands were clasped behind his back and he maintained perfect posture, the spitting image of the experienced and focused naval officer. Not much more than an hour ago he had been in orbit over Alexandria anticipating another long, slow day. Now he had been made the commander of Battlegroup Uluru, a small picket force that had been sent to investigate a small, almost unnoticeable anomaly on the edge of the system. Campbell had seen the sensor log, and to him it hadn’t seemed like anything more than a sensor glitch. The glitch, however, had been enough for Admiral Harper to send an investigation force composed of four frigates to the edge of the system. The fleet had been on high alert since the Commonwealths defeat at Cerea, and nothing involving any potential threat to national security was to be overlooked.

Campbell couldn’t say that he blamed the Admiral for his caution. They were fighting new enemies in what felt like a new galaxy. They were now living in a galaxy where there were enormous empires with vastly superior technology and space wizards who violated the laws of nature, and the Commonwealth had already made its share of enemies in this new world. A little caution was justifiable. So, despite his own doubts about the validity of today’s radar glitch, he was taking things seriously. He had ordered the Battlegroup which contained the frigates Agincourt, Versailles, Nicaea, and Savannah to fan out. Each ship would be no more than a five minute trip to its nearest sister ship in case they did encounter any threat, but they were far enough apart to provide effective sensor coverage of the area. Of course even four frigates working together would be hard pressed to take on even so much as a cruiser class vessel, but this wasn’t intended to be a combat force. More of a scout force that could send out a warning to the main fleet if necessary.

“Sir, coming about to three-two-zero by one-eight-zero, Uluru following suit. ETA to next waypoint is fifteen minutes.” Said the helmsman, updating Campbell on their progress.

“Thank you, Crewman Foster. Petty Officer Nelson,” he said, turning to his sensors technician, “Have you detected anything out there that doesn’t belong? Even so much as a meteor?”

“No Sir,” Came the reply from the Petty Officer, who had his eyes glued to his monitor. “We’re running with full active scans and haven’t picked up a thing. It’s still as a grave out there.” The Captain wasn’t fond of that particular idiom of late. Ever since Cerea that expression brought up memories of the ships that they had lost in orbit that day, and the utter silence that followed the destruction of the Surprise. The memory of that day caused a slight shift in his perspective. Bogus signal or not, it was good that they were out here looking.

Another very unpleasant thought suddenly occurred to him: if there is a ship out there, then whoever it is has the ability to completely sidestep their best scanners. Additionally, their active sensors were putting out so much radiation that a blind sensor tech who was half asleep could see them from a system away. This was a very unpleasant thought indeed, but there was precious little he could do about it.

“Let me know if you find anything, Petty Officer…Even an meteor.”

 

[Jackson Mills]

“Follow me!” Came a voice. It sounded distant, hollow…but familiar. Jack recognized it as his own. He heard the scraping of boots on dirt and felt his legs move, pushing him up over the lip of a crater. Wait, he was doing this? No, that didn’t seem right. It was him, yes, but he didn’t have any control over his arms or legs. They were moving, but not to his own commands. Where was he? It was a building of some sort, dusty and in disrepair. The architecture didn’t look Alexandrian, it looked strange…almost…Cerean! He realized with a start where he was and what was about to do. He tried to tense his muscles, to force his body to trip, anything to prevent what was to come. He charged, plowed through a door, and turned to what should have been a group of Vagaari. Instead, a single Marine stood in the room. Jackson wanted to scream, to force himself to stop, but he wasn’t in control. His body, the shell that he was trapped in, pulled the trigger. A shot rang out and McLawrence fell to the ground, a single hole in his forehead.

Jackson gasped as his eyes shot open, the nightmare coming to its end. He’d been having the same dream almost every night since Cerea. During that battle he had burst through the door and rounded the corner like in the dream, but there had instead been a group of Vagaari soldiers. He had fired a volley at them, killing them all, but in the process errant rounds from his rifle had penetrated a wall and killed a fellow Marine, McLawrence. The event had crushed him, and though his waking personality and work ethic had changed very little, he hadn’t been able to sleep well since. He had turned himself in to be tried in a court martial for the friendly fire incident, but the Marine Corps had chosen not to pursue the matter, and said that the incident was an ‘unavoidable result of the circumstances which both squads had found themselves in’, which was military speak for ‘a lot of messed up things happened in that battle, and you’re low on our priorities list’. Mills had been glad to not be imprisoned or discharged, and he knew that he couldn’t have known about the other teams presence, but he still felt like he was getting off too easy.

He rolled over in his bunk and saw through bleary eyes that Dean Letham, with whom he shared quarters, was getting into his battle armor. He rubbed his eyes and looked again, verifying what he was seeing. “We expecting action, or are you just trying to look cool?” He said groggily, his dry sense of humor beginning to warm up after a restless night.

 

[Darth Abyss]

"Time to wake, because it seems like our enemy has."

The sensors of Phasma-class Infiltrator Abyss and his crew were had begun to go haywire, showing several enemy ships in close range. He couldn't say for certain what size or type just yet, but based on the information the sensors were putting out they were in range of at least four frigate sized ships. That this would make their job probably a lot easier instead of harder was something the commonwealth most certainly hadn't planned for. Whatever the rest of the crew had been doing until now, it was time for them to get ready, it was only matter of minutes until they would get in range for their plan.

"Everybody in position?"

Abyss turned to the crew, while attaching the personal energy field to his neck that would allow him to breath in the vacuum of space. By now the other team should be ready to jump and arrive any time. He knew criminals well enough to not count on everyone of them, but he had at least a handful of starfights and pilots on hold that would jump regardless of the rest. The thing he hadn't told them was, that if [member="Desmond C'artyom"] and his ships wouldn't follow them, they had very slim chances of returning from this mission. Not that it mattered to Abyss personally, they were pawns after all, but the more effective the distraction would be, the more time they would have until someone would realize what they were actually doing.

"[member="Darth Lykos"], you are our expert for stealth and infiltration. I want you disrupt gravity and live support inside the ship, if possible without being noticed."

He gave his acolyte brother a quick nod, before turning to the others.

"[member="Darth Ferox"]. You are the most skilled bladesman of us all. Take [member="Darth Roth"] with you and take over the bridge. Be swift and show no mercy, and make sure that no signal gets out."

Now for the last part, the one he would be involved in.

"@Tirdarius. You and me will enter the ship after the others, if possible from another position. There we will place the runes and try to let this ship disappear. Any questions?"

[member="Jackson Mills"] [member="Dean Letham"] [member="Richard Campbell"] [member="Horus"]

 

[The Upright Man]

Dean busied himself with his armour. The piece was almost as expensive as the ships crews entire yearly wage put together, and a prototype for that matter. It could very well explode on him at any given moment. “We expecting action, or are you just trying to look cool?” a voice groggily mumbled from a bunk. Dean craned his neck and spied Mills, "Navy's paranoia is on the fritz again, new day, same shart." Dean turned his attention away from Mills, he'd seen the way he had been moving in his sleep. Feet kicking, fists clenching. The sweat that rolled down his forehead and the heavy breathing. Night terrors again. "It's not your fault," Dean commented, and would say no more of it.

The Super-Commando got to his feet, "I'll grab your rifle - get dressed." It wasn't an order, but he wasn't asking either. Dean outranked Mills by a football field, but he wasn't in direct command of Mills, Mills was Corps, Dean was a Navy spec-op. The beauty of a mobile military, all forced into the same cramped quarters. There had been rows and bouts between fly-boys and jarheads, fists thrown and sometimes tables too, but at the end of the day they all bled for the same nation. It was friendly competition, even if sometimes the lines got violent. Dean made quick work of the long barracks and promptly returned, rifles and sidearms holstered, he tossed Mill's favorite toy onto his bunk.

[member="Jackson Mills"] | [member="Darth Abyss"]

 

[Darth Ferus]

A chuckle escaped the red mans lips as he listened to [member="Darth Abyss"] 's plan. Best swordsman? Flattery will get you no where young Abyss. Though it is appreciated. His gaze wandered over to [member="Darth Roth"] next, offering nothing more than a simple nod before he too placed the mask of his energy space suit on. They had their mission, nothing more to talk about. And so he turned to walk towards the jumping room, a small grin forming on his lips.

Darth Ferox would be the first to jump out of the Phasma Interceptor, laughing quite loudly as the sensation of weightlessness hit him. Of course, in space there is no sound, and he hadn't bothered to turn his com on yet. Out of the cloak of the ship he went, with his own armor's stealth activated to help hide his descent down. There was no matter of chance here, not with so many unknowns about the Commonwealth.

It was atop the frigate Agincourt the Sith Lord would land. Mag boots activated to lock him in place, and quickly he would go to find his entrance in. After around twenty feet he found an emergency exit hatch. Soundlessly his red saber would light up as he plunged it into the lock mechanics, and prying it away with his mechanical might after the locks were melted away. Air escaping into the endless void was what met him first, and if not for the mag boots he wore the sudden rush would have carried him away. But with grim determination, and a bit of help from both the Force and his cybernetics, he climbed his way in and hit the emergency shut to close off the hole.

Now with fresh air around him and him no longer having to fight against the escaping air, he deactivated the air tight help with a single press of a button. There no doubt this would set off some sort of alarm on the ship inside, which was part of his overall plan. Get all the eyes looking to the wrong place, all while he with his armor stalked around the ship to find his way to the bridge.

The fun was about to finally begin.

[member="Dean Letham"] [member="Jackson Mills"] [member="Richard Campbell"] [member="Tirdarius"] [member="Darth Lykos"]

 

[Xevek Nekonis]

The shadows within Lykos' mind stirred and whispered as he felt the ship drop out of hyperspace, yet, he paid them no mind. Simple thoughts were beyond him right now as he knelt, separated from the rest of the group and on his own off to the side, head bowed and robes falling around his form in such a way that any discernible features were lost within the folds of the fabric. The Phasma-Class Interceptor, a ship that was owned by the Sith Assassins, was one that was created with stealth in mind and it reflected that ideal well, but, for as well as it could obscure the physical, it did nothing to aid when it came to matters of the ethereal. As such, even with his own Presence within the Force nothing more than a ice cold, porcelain mask that revealed nothing and reflected the general background 'noise' of the Force - through a combination of Quey'tek Meditation and Force Camouflage - leaving him hidden from all prying eyes, he continued to call upon his experience in stealth by assisting [member="Tirdarius"] with his efforts in hiding the Presences of the gather Sith.

He would never be someone of whom tales of destruction and mastery of the Dark Side would be sung about, never be a major name in the affairs of the Sith, let alone the galaxy, and Lykos knew and accepted that. His fate was one with the shadows, someone who, rather than leading great battles and striking fear into the hearts of his enemies with his very name, would exist within the fringes, as an entity almost separate from the Dark, a fleeting shadow that would be seen out the corner of someone's eye before he would disappear, leaving behind only a cooling corpse. And, with his acceptance of this truth, his skills within the Force reflected this well. The ability to cloak and obscure Presences as well as his own sounds and appearance were where his strength lay. As such, as Tirdarius sought to hide the Presences of those on the ship, ghosts of whispers would run along the edge of awareness as Lykos aided him in his attempts, a single bead of sweat on the Zabrak's stoic face the only sign of his actions.

The voice of Darth Abyss did little to break his concentration, indeed, the only sign that the Zabrak had heard the words spoken to him was a slightly, barely there nod of his cloaked head before his focus would return inwards. As activity within the ship would finally start, people preparing themselves to follow their orders, the form of Lykos, should any chose to turn their attention to him, would slowly fade from view, his form drifting into nothingness as light and sound would be bent around him, leaving him one with the shadows, as his external focus in aiding Tirdarius in the obscuring of their approach would cease.

Pushing himself to his feet, and brushing off the none existent dust from his robes, Lykos would pick his way around the bodies that crowded the ship, ensuring that his location was not revealed by him touching anyway. The only evidence of him being there was the faint whisper of three words that would rush past Abyss' ear. "It shall be done."

Unlike Ferox, his departure from the Interceptor was not loud, even if said noise could not be heard within space, nor grand, it being nothing more than Lykos simply stepping forth into the weightlessness of space. Barely a minuets later and Lykos was taking in a breath of fresh air as the airlock behind him sealed itself. Straightening from the crouch he was in, Lykos would simply turn and begin to walk deeper into the depths of the ship, sending a quick prayer of thanks to Amina for the power within Force Cloak when one would train with it. For, with the photokinetic aspects of the ability, it rendered him invisible not just to living beings, but also droids and security cameras, leaving his infiltration unknown apart from the fact that the airlock he had entered through would have been recorded as opening then closing after he had cut his way through the locks.


[member="Darth Ferox"] | [member="Darth Abyss"] | [member="Darth Roth"] | [member="Dean Letham"] | [member="Jackson Mills"] | [member="Richard Campbell"]

 

[Jackson Mills]

Jackson snorted at Deans comment regarding the Navy. He almost made a snide comment about Deans own affiliation with the Navy, but held his tongue. He was Navy, sure, but he had also proven himself to be one of the most capable warriors in the Commonwealth military. Whether or not that was due to the experimental armor was irrelevant; he was getting shot at and shooting back the same as any Marine, and that earned respect in his book.

He rolled out of his bunk and landed on his feet. He moved to grab his fatigues, but seized up for a full second at Deans next comment. The Marine on Cerea who he had shot had been under the direct command of Letham, and this was the first time that the topic had come up since that day. Jackson considered protesting the sentiment, but Letham seemed uninterested in the topic now. Whether or not this was just an attempt to get his mind right for action or a genuine dismissal of guilt he couldn’t tell. He decided to take it at face value and move on.

“Aye, Sir.” He responded to the semi command to get dressed. He ordinarily would have made a wry comment, but his mind was now occupied by the situation at hand. What on Alexandria would have the Navy so stirred up as to rouse every fighting man on board and get them into full battle rattle? It was unlikely that the Vagaari or Swarm would have found them, and if they had then why had they delayed coming into the system for so long? They weren’t greeting an envoy, or they would have been called to get into their Class A uniforms.

Jackson was starting to snap his armor plates on when the Jaguar returned and tossed the MM101 rifle onto the bunk. He grinned, and when the last of his armor snaps was in place he scooped the rifle up and slotted a loaded magazine into the weapon, though he did not chamber a round. Safety on board spacecraft was paramount, and only in situations where threat of violence was a live weapon permitted.

“I’ll rouse the rest of the men and get them to their stations. Meet you on the bridge?” He said to the Commander. As the acting commander of the Marine garrison on the Agincourt it was his job, and that of the Commander as the leader of the Naval infantry unit on board to meet with the Captain and be briefed on their current situation. Mills ordinarily wouldn’t be in this position, but the normal garrison commander, Lieutenant Havershaw, was off of the ship on leave and Mills was filling in as platoon leader.

Mills turned to the row of bunks in the barracks and began to shout, “Alright Marines, up and at ‘em! Cap’n just moved us into standby mode, so I wanna see in your greens and looking mean! Grab rifles and standard loadout. If I see any bolts get racked before condition red then we will have our first casualties of the day! Get to your assigned posts and I’ll see you on the line.” Every Marine was out of bed now and was moving quickly to get themselves ready. There was plenty of grumbling from the ranks at having been woken from their precious sleep. Most of these been on mid watch the night before, and were supposed to be able to enjoy an extra hour or so of sleep. They were Marines though, and none of them questioned their orders. Jackson turned and strolled out of the barracks toward the bridge.

 

[Jackson Mills]

Double post...please ignore.

 

[Richard Campbell]

“Captain, I’ve got something.” Petty Officer Nelson said to Campbell, a touch of confusion in his voice.

“What is it, Petty Officer?” Campbell asked, striding over to the sensors station and looking at the monitor.

“Right there.” The man said, pointing to the monitor. “A few seconds ago we caught a brief spike of heat on the sensors, just off the port side of the ship. It was only there for a split second, but I don’t see anything in that area of space that could have caused it.”

“Good catch, Nelson. Crewman Foster, full stop. We’re going to camp out here for a few minutes and see if we catch another anomaly. Comms, I want you to send a tight beam message to the rest of Uluru to hold position, use encryption key lambda. Advise them that we are following up on a sensor reading, possibly a faulty scan. We may be here a while.” Something didn’t feel right to Campbell. Space was far too noisy for this to all be coincidence, but all of it could be explained away by false reads and sensor echoes. His gut was telling him that there was more going on than there appeared.

“Sir, hull breach!” Came a call from the operations tech seated near the sensors tech. “There has been a breach of the topside airlock. Looks like the outer door blew off. The emergency hatch has been sealed.”

“We’re being boarded.” Campbell said in a controlled voice. There was no doubt in his mind now that there was a stealth ship outside and that there were now intruders on his ship. “Activate the emergency hull breach bulkheads around that section, do what we can from here to slow their advance in that section. Gunnery, warm up topside railguns one and two, and ventral railguns seven and eight. If you see any more ‘anomalies’ that don’t have Commonwealth IFF tags then start shooting at it. Lock down all other starship armament, I don’t want any other shipboard weapons to be usable without a complete, hard reboot of the system.” Campbell then turned back to the operations tech and said, “Speaking of the computer, purge the system of all astrogation charts and any reference to the Commonwealth, its military, or its worlds. If we don’t need it for the immediate operation of the ship, purge it.” He paused for a moment and turned to look at his communications tech, but he highly doubted that they would be able to get a signal out. “Comms, if they haven’t already knocked out or jammed our communications array then get our distress signal squawking.” The young woman manning the communications terminal, no older than twenty years old, gave a scared look and a slow shake of her head to the Captain which told him everything he needed to know. “Try anyway, Alyssa.” He said gently.

The entire bridge crew set to work at their tasks at a frantic pace, but the truth was that depending on how quick and efficient their boarders were, and what their targets were, they probably wouldn’t be able to accomplish all of the tasks that he had given them. Regardless, the only thing he had yet to wait for was the arrival of the two commanders of the ships garrison. The last and most vital line of defense would be held not by an aging officer and his bridge crew. It would be held by Marines, CST’s, and a Jaguar.

 

[The Upright Man]

Dean gave the jarhead a two-fingered half-enthused salute, both acknowledging Mills that they would meet on the bridge and as a farewell. The Jaguar was out the barracks door and in the swarm of crew personnel moving to attend to stations across the ship. It was a bustling city, densely-packed with over a thousand crew, with a good contingent of those being marines, a sprinkling of shock troopers and Dean, a Jaguar. While he was not ordinarily taller than most men, the suit gave him extra height. He looked a demi-god, and some treated him as such. His feats on Cerea and beyond had become legendary to the navy, and even the Corps gave him a nod of respect when he was in their presence.

Though Dean knew that it wasn't so much his own personal accomplishments that earned him respect so much as it was the cybernetics and armor that had achieved it. He'd be any normal CST if it wasn't for the special treatment, and his status only went so far as the Commonwealth military. Outside Commonwealth rank and file he was just another suited-up warrior, sometimes mistaken for a Mandalorian. He was a yard off from the command deck when the sirens began to wail. Red lights flashed. His heart sparked, his stomach dropped - the ships been breached. The crowd surged like a crashing tide, rushing to their quarters. Dean began to barrel through the men and women, using his armored hands to ease bodies aside to allow his lengthy stride to be unhindered. He rounded the corner onto the deck, moved nearest to Captain Campbell and stood at attention.

[member="Richard Campbell"] | [member="Jackson Mills"]

 

[Darth Abyss]

Now Abyss hour had come. The final, vital piece of the plan. It wasn't more important than the parts the others had to play for the success of the mission, but if he would fail right now, the plan was already doomed. He has returned to the pilot seat of the small stealth ship, doing his best to navigate it below the frigate without making anymore noise than necessary. Noise in this case meant any output of the ship that would be noted as abnormal by the commonwealth, using the rest of the ships momentum to pass above the top side of the ship without using the boosters once. It was slower than actually flying, but time was only an issue if he would survive this stunt.

As the ship drifted on the downside of the ship, Abyss took a deep breath, and looked at the last ally still with him on the ship. He wasn't sure if [member="Tirdarius"] would follow him inside the ship, or leave on board of the stealth ship once he would be gone. It wasn't like he blamed the other lord for this, as he other than Abyss and the others had no real reason to help them. He wasn't a part of the Chorus, he was simply a ally of [member="Darth Ferox"] and Abyss who had agreed to help them out for once.

The bag strapped to his back, Abyss moved to the airlock on the side of the ship, and activated the energy field that would allow him to stay alive in space, at least for a short time, while storing on of the emps in his right. Then he summoned the force around him, using it to create a photokinetic cloak around him, that could bend sound and light alike. When he was sucked out into space, he used his hands to push himself to the bottom of the ship he was about to board. Time was an issue now, as he could only survive for a few minutes until the energy field would break apart. From his right he threw the emp at the closets airlock. Not really silent, but they probably already knew what was going on by now. Disrupting the emergency airlock for a few minutes would give him time to disappears inside the ship without anyone challenging him, and it would mask how exactly he planned to get inside.

The electro magnetic pulse pumped through the airlock, only second before Abyss reached it. In his left a small lightsaber with a purple blade came to live, decloacking him for a few second. He hoped that the emp was enough to hide him from the commonwealths eyes until he was on board. As fast as possible he began to cut a man sized hole in the airlock, and he could already feel the air being sucked out of the ship.

[member="Dean Letham"] [member="Richard Campbell"] [member="Jackson Mills"] [member="Darth Lykos"] [member="Darth Roth"]