War on the Horizon
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Book 2: Chapter 6
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Book 2: Chapter 6
My Warhammer shook as heavy winds battered against it; the consistent rain drowned out even the subtle vibrations of the seventy-five-ton war machine’s fusion engine.
“Colonel, we’ll have to pull back into nearby structures!” Julia Watson’s voice was complimented by static on our secure frequency. “We’re starting to have to use the tank’s ballast pumps!”
“There’s a parking garage a thousand meters to our south,” I checked the current map layout we had been using. “Park on one of the higher levels and get dried out. I have a feeling that this rain will stall them out before long.”
After watching the lights on the vehicles move further away, I backed my ‘Mech into an alleyway and shifted into a stable crouch.
“Monsoon season,” I sighed as I set an alert chime on my sensors and pulled out the sleeping bag I kept in the cockpit. “It just had to be Monsoon season.”
The enemy wouldn’t be moving through the night. It was dark enough in the day during the monsoon season. But at night? No, no one with any sense moved at night in this weather. Not when you might turn a wrong corner and be face to face with a tornado or some other Act of God.
I double-checked that the searchlights were off and then slid into the insulated bag, a small pillow separating my cheek from the cold metal surface of my cockpit.
As the raindrops shattered harmlessly against the external armor of my ‘Mech, I closed my eyes and drifted away into Morpheus’s realm.
–
–
Six hours later, I opened my eyes to a gray sky. The rain still fell, but the pitch black of the night had given way to a blurred light.
Groaning, I climbed out of the sleeping bag and packed the kit, storing it before groaning as I stretched.
“Fucking back,” I put my hands under my shoulder blades and leaned back to a series of ‘cracks’ running down my spine.
Grabbing my cooling vest, I slid it back on and climbed into the command chair, the active sensors powering on once more as I secured my neurohelmet.
“Peterson, you got a sitrep for me?” I keyed my mic.
“No movement as of yet, Colonel,” he replied. “Rain’s not comin’ down quite as fierce. I expect they’ll hit us soon.”
“Roger that,” I pulled my ‘Mech out of the crouch and shifted out of the alleyway, moving down the street towards the shield generators. “I’m Oscar-mike to your position,” I then changed frequencies. “Watson, get your vics in position. We’re expecting enemy movement soon.”
“Copy that, Colonel, mounting up and moving out!”
While the short company was preparing to stave off what was left of the Trade Federation’s ground forces, something else was happening in the skies above.
“The Monsoon will go on for a few more days!” the shuttle pilot yelled over the sound of the wind. “But it’s died down enough for us to set down more troops. We can’t land inside the city. The wind’s too strong! So we’ll put you down on the outskirts, let you move in.”
Count Dooku was silent as he braced against the handle above him, his armored fist clenched tightly as the shuttle hovered off of the ground, the Marksman troops jumping off as a few tanks and ‘mechs fell from other shuttles in front and behind them.
“Major Sheppard,” the Count’s smile was grim.
“Yan,” the Marksman XO grinned. “Good to see that you took my advice on the armor. You ready to shred these fuckers?”
Dooku raised his hand, and his lightsaber flew to it, the blue beam igniting before vanishing again.
“Lead me to the front lines. It is high time that I faced the enemy.”
“Well, follow me,” Sheppard climbed the ladder up into the cockpit of his Cyclops, the aging Chief of State following him.
“There’s a fold-out chair behind you,” Sheppard handed the other man a cooling vest. “And you’re going to want to put this on. My ‘mech doesn’t generate much heat, but there’s always a chance of something going wrong.”
The Assault ‘mech moved behind the rest of the armor and ‘Mechs, the rain coming down around them while troops in powered armor held onto the outside of hovercraft, APCs, and other vehicles.
As they followed, Sheppard connected Dooku to the ‘Mech’s communications systems and demonstrated how the command console worked, allowing him to glimpse what the battlefield looked like before they moved into proper combat.
“Command, armor is taking heavy fire from the nearby buildings. Looks like someone wised up on the enemy side.”
“That’s why we have infantry and armor,” Sheppard replied. “Dismount and start clearing houses. We’ll take care of enemy armor.”
APCs sped through the streets, and powered armor clad infantry moved from building to building while the tanks and Mechs offered support.
“Colonel, we’ve got limited contact here,” Sheppard’s battlecomputer pushed through the storm's interference to link up on the battlenet. “What’s your status?”
“You’re on their flanks!” distant explosions were heard. “We’re heavily outnumbered here. I would appreciate some support!”
“Monsoon only let up enough to get us near the city,” Sheppard sighed. “Not enough for air support to assist.”
“Shit,” Hull’s voice responded. “You’re going to have to push in and take them out. We’re watching our fire for now, but if we have to cough up some funds to restore some buildings, I think that’s a price I’m willing to pay at this point.”
“We’ll get there as fast as we can. Just hold out a bit longer.”
Standing in front of a crippled Hunter, I absorbed fire from the AATs while the tank crew scrambled out of the tank and into nearby buildings.
A lucky shot rocked me back before I made the offending hover tank vanish in a swarm of smoke and explosives, my short-range missiles ripping the enemy armor to shreds before I stepped away to dodge the next wave of fire.
I was ignoring the wireframe overlay in the corner of my vision. A desperate hope in my heart that if I didn’t acknowledge it, it wouldn’t be true.
“Heat Sink destroyed!” Betty alerted me to yet another heat sink falling to a luckily placed shot. I was now drenched in sweat, and my heat curve was only helped by the fact that one of my PPCs was gone. It had been deleted by a cluster of hailfire missiles early on, and I had been left without one of my primary weapons for most of this engagement.
“Colonel, my Jaguar’s toast,” Captain Julia Watson coughed into her comms. “And we’re too far apart for you to get us out of here,” I could see the tank through enemy lines, the battle droids surrounding it with heavy weapons ready to finish it off. “Give ‘em hell for me.”
The light tank’s turret shifted and began to fire everything it had left. Coaxial machinegun fire tore nearby droids to shreds while the main gun finished off yet another AAT.
I pushed my ‘Mech to its limits, trying to break through the enemy lines to the last of my tanks. I’d ensured that all my crews made it out of this alive. I wasn’t going to let one die in front of my eyes today!
A missile curved in and slammed into my cockpit, while an AAT round hit my gyro, the sudden hit sending me off balance and into the ground, where things went black.
“Shit,” I groaned as I picked my head up from where it had fallen.
My gyro had stopped moving entirely, and the wireframe readout showed that everything had been stripped down to nothing more than the bare skeletal structure of my ‘mech’s chassis.
“Sensors offline, gyro offline,” Betty began listing the critical damage before I muted her and tried to restart the gyro.
“C’mon,” I tried to restart the stuck balancing device, only for grinding and a screech of metal to stop them from spinning. “Work you piece of shit!”
I slammed my fist into the panel and button.
The sound was worse this time, and I grit my teeth as the gyro hesitated and then smoothed out.
“Hell yeah,” I grinned, reaching out with my remaining PPC to stabilize and assist in moving my ‘Mech upright. “Well fuck.”
The droids had seemingly left Watson’s tank alone, but now they were entirely focused on my fallen ‘Mech, the last fifty or so remaining AATs weapons pointed directly at my center torso.
Sighing, I reached for the ejection handle and began to pull it down before I paused at the sound of explosions.
My mouth dropped open, and I watched in awe as a Hetzer drifted around a corner, it's AC-20 carving open everything in its path before a lance of Toros and Centurions followed. The ‘Mechs blazed a path forward as a Cyclops turned the corner, its bulk towering over the droids before a blue beam of light dropped down to support the Mithril squads that dropped off the ‘Mechs.
I closed my eyes and rested my head against the back of my command chair. It had been a fucking long day, and the cavalry had finally arrived.
My Warhammer shook as heavy winds battered against it; the consistent rain drowned out even the subtle vibrations of the seventy-five-ton war machine’s fusion engine.
“Colonel, we’ll have to pull back into nearby structures!” Julia Watson’s voice was complimented by static on our secure frequency. “We’re starting to have to use the tank’s ballast pumps!”
“There’s a parking garage a thousand meters to our south,” I checked the current map layout we had been using. “Park on one of the higher levels and get dried out. I have a feeling that this rain will stall them out before long.”
After watching the lights on the vehicles move further away, I backed my ‘Mech into an alleyway and shifted into a stable crouch.
“Monsoon season,” I sighed as I set an alert chime on my sensors and pulled out the sleeping bag I kept in the cockpit. “It just had to be Monsoon season.”
The enemy wouldn’t be moving through the night. It was dark enough in the day during the monsoon season. But at night? No, no one with any sense moved at night in this weather. Not when you might turn a wrong corner and be face to face with a tornado or some other Act of God.
I double-checked that the searchlights were off and then slid into the insulated bag, a small pillow separating my cheek from the cold metal surface of my cockpit.
As the raindrops shattered harmlessly against the external armor of my ‘Mech, I closed my eyes and drifted away into Morpheus’s realm.
–
–
Six hours later, I opened my eyes to a gray sky. The rain still fell, but the pitch black of the night had given way to a blurred light.
Groaning, I climbed out of the sleeping bag and packed the kit, storing it before groaning as I stretched.
“Fucking back,” I put my hands under my shoulder blades and leaned back to a series of ‘cracks’ running down my spine.
Grabbing my cooling vest, I slid it back on and climbed into the command chair, the active sensors powering on once more as I secured my neurohelmet.
“Peterson, you got a sitrep for me?” I keyed my mic.
“No movement as of yet, Colonel,” he replied. “Rain’s not comin’ down quite as fierce. I expect they’ll hit us soon.”
“Roger that,” I pulled my ‘Mech out of the crouch and shifted out of the alleyway, moving down the street towards the shield generators. “I’m Oscar-mike to your position,” I then changed frequencies. “Watson, get your vics in position. We’re expecting enemy movement soon.”
“Copy that, Colonel, mounting up and moving out!”
While the short company was preparing to stave off what was left of the Trade Federation’s ground forces, something else was happening in the skies above.
“The Monsoon will go on for a few more days!” the shuttle pilot yelled over the sound of the wind. “But it’s died down enough for us to set down more troops. We can’t land inside the city. The wind’s too strong! So we’ll put you down on the outskirts, let you move in.”
Count Dooku was silent as he braced against the handle above him, his armored fist clenched tightly as the shuttle hovered off of the ground, the Marksman troops jumping off as a few tanks and ‘mechs fell from other shuttles in front and behind them.
“Major Sheppard,” the Count’s smile was grim.
“Yan,” the Marksman XO grinned. “Good to see that you took my advice on the armor. You ready to shred these fuckers?”
Dooku raised his hand, and his lightsaber flew to it, the blue beam igniting before vanishing again.
“Lead me to the front lines. It is high time that I faced the enemy.”
“Well, follow me,” Sheppard climbed the ladder up into the cockpit of his Cyclops, the aging Chief of State following him.
“There’s a fold-out chair behind you,” Sheppard handed the other man a cooling vest. “And you’re going to want to put this on. My ‘mech doesn’t generate much heat, but there’s always a chance of something going wrong.”
The Assault ‘mech moved behind the rest of the armor and ‘Mechs, the rain coming down around them while troops in powered armor held onto the outside of hovercraft, APCs, and other vehicles.
As they followed, Sheppard connected Dooku to the ‘Mech’s communications systems and demonstrated how the command console worked, allowing him to glimpse what the battlefield looked like before they moved into proper combat.
“Command, armor is taking heavy fire from the nearby buildings. Looks like someone wised up on the enemy side.”
“That’s why we have infantry and armor,” Sheppard replied. “Dismount and start clearing houses. We’ll take care of enemy armor.”
APCs sped through the streets, and powered armor clad infantry moved from building to building while the tanks and Mechs offered support.
“Colonel, we’ve got limited contact here,” Sheppard’s battlecomputer pushed through the storm's interference to link up on the battlenet. “What’s your status?”
“You’re on their flanks!” distant explosions were heard. “We’re heavily outnumbered here. I would appreciate some support!”
“Monsoon only let up enough to get us near the city,” Sheppard sighed. “Not enough for air support to assist.”
“Shit,” Hull’s voice responded. “You’re going to have to push in and take them out. We’re watching our fire for now, but if we have to cough up some funds to restore some buildings, I think that’s a price I’m willing to pay at this point.”
“We’ll get there as fast as we can. Just hold out a bit longer.”
Standing in front of a crippled Hunter, I absorbed fire from the AATs while the tank crew scrambled out of the tank and into nearby buildings.
A lucky shot rocked me back before I made the offending hover tank vanish in a swarm of smoke and explosives, my short-range missiles ripping the enemy armor to shreds before I stepped away to dodge the next wave of fire.
I was ignoring the wireframe overlay in the corner of my vision. A desperate hope in my heart that if I didn’t acknowledge it, it wouldn’t be true.
“Heat Sink destroyed!” Betty alerted me to yet another heat sink falling to a luckily placed shot. I was now drenched in sweat, and my heat curve was only helped by the fact that one of my PPCs was gone. It had been deleted by a cluster of hailfire missiles early on, and I had been left without one of my primary weapons for most of this engagement.
“Colonel, my Jaguar’s toast,” Captain Julia Watson coughed into her comms. “And we’re too far apart for you to get us out of here,” I could see the tank through enemy lines, the battle droids surrounding it with heavy weapons ready to finish it off. “Give ‘em hell for me.”
The light tank’s turret shifted and began to fire everything it had left. Coaxial machinegun fire tore nearby droids to shreds while the main gun finished off yet another AAT.
I pushed my ‘Mech to its limits, trying to break through the enemy lines to the last of my tanks. I’d ensured that all my crews made it out of this alive. I wasn’t going to let one die in front of my eyes today!
A missile curved in and slammed into my cockpit, while an AAT round hit my gyro, the sudden hit sending me off balance and into the ground, where things went black.
“Shit,” I groaned as I picked my head up from where it had fallen.
My gyro had stopped moving entirely, and the wireframe readout showed that everything had been stripped down to nothing more than the bare skeletal structure of my ‘mech’s chassis.
“Sensors offline, gyro offline,” Betty began listing the critical damage before I muted her and tried to restart the gyro.
“C’mon,” I tried to restart the stuck balancing device, only for grinding and a screech of metal to stop them from spinning. “Work you piece of shit!”
I slammed my fist into the panel and button.
The sound was worse this time, and I grit my teeth as the gyro hesitated and then smoothed out.
“Hell yeah,” I grinned, reaching out with my remaining PPC to stabilize and assist in moving my ‘Mech upright. “Well fuck.”
The droids had seemingly left Watson’s tank alone, but now they were entirely focused on my fallen ‘Mech, the last fifty or so remaining AATs weapons pointed directly at my center torso.
Sighing, I reached for the ejection handle and began to pull it down before I paused at the sound of explosions.
My mouth dropped open, and I watched in awe as a Hetzer drifted around a corner, it's AC-20 carving open everything in its path before a lance of Toros and Centurions followed. The ‘Mechs blazed a path forward as a Cyclops turned the corner, its bulk towering over the droids before a blue beam of light dropped down to support the Mithril squads that dropped off the ‘Mechs.
I closed my eyes and rested my head against the back of my command chair. It had been a fucking long day, and the cavalry had finally arrived.
Book 2: Chapter 7
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Book 2: Chapter 7
The day began with a funeral…
It wasn’t the first funeral I’d overseen as the head of a mercenary company, and it wouldn’t be the last. I had had men and women die under my command. I’d seen death up close and laughed in her face as she attempted to snatch my life from me.
Regardless of how things went, there would always be a part of me that felt guilty for living when others died. There was something inside that screamed and railed against the cold and brutal reality of the world. I had done everything possible to ensure that those under my command lived. I Had nearly paid the ultimate price myself. But it was never enough.
The bright young commander of the combat vehicle Fireteam would probably never walk again. Most of her command was dead. And Peterson’s infantry had been whittled down to a mere handful before Sheppard had broken through and came to our aid. For all that people would believe that we had won, we had still lost.
–
–
We had pried the ground-side leader of the Trade Federation out of his tank and began interrogating him. I knew I couldn’t handle the questioning, so I withdrew myself and buried myself in other work. All of this resulted in what I was doing right now.
“Are you ready, sir?” Julia moved the hoverchair beside me.
“No,” I shook my head. “No one’s ever ready for what we’re about to do.”
The two of us made our way to the first house, one of many we would visit today.
“Mrs. Jefferson?” I questioned the woman who stood at the door.
The woman knew what we would say before we opened our mouths to speak again, and tears began flowing.
“Please, come in,” she choked out through broken sobs.
Entering the house, we helped her to a small sofa in the living room of their comfortable home.
“Mrs. Jefferson,” I allowed a tear to trail down before steeling myself for what came next. “I regret to inform you that your husband Kyle perished during the battle against the Trade Federation forces.”
“How did he die?” She asked.
“He was a hero,” I tried to smile and failed. “One of our tanks was disabled, and the rest of the crew was injured. He pulled each of them out and into safety before finally succumbing to his injuries.”
“And the bastards that killed him?” She lifted her eyes. A harsh, bitter anger shone through them. “What’s going to happen to them?”
“We destroyed all of the droids,” Julia said after a minute.
“No,” The widow replied. “What are we going to do to the Trade Federation?”
She wasn’t the only one with that question, and after two weeks, we finally had an answer.
“You understand that I cannot sanction this as the head of the Confederacy of Independent Systems,” Dooku sat on the other side of my desk, a sad, tired look in his eye.
“I know,” I replied. “But if I don’t retaliate, there will be even more consequences.”
“You didn’t let me finish,” the older man smiled sadly. “I cannot sanction the action as the head of government. But as a friend, I wholeheartedly support this action.”
“I thought vengeance wasn’t something the Jedi favored?” I raised an eyebrow.
“It is good that I am not a Jedi, then,” Dooku replied. “I understand the political ramifications of what will happen if you do nothing.”
“I’ll try to leave the Confederacy out of things,” I tapped the desk. “But I can’t promise that the Republic will have a good reaction to things.”
“Beloria is an independent world,” Dooku shrugged. “The politicians will scream regardless of what you do.”
“Then I might as well go all out then.”
We continued discussing plans for a little while before the other man departed; he had to return to Raxus and ensure that the CIS was seen as blameless in anything that happened in the near future.
But I wasn’t alone for long.
“Need someone to break you out of here?” Siri asked, her arms crossed underneath her chest.
“My knight in shining armor,” I grinned back. “Here to save me from the dreaded bars of paperwork!”
“There are droids that can do this,” she picked up one of the sheets and frowned at the language she couldn’t read.
“Sure,” I agreed. “But I’d rather have a medium that no one can hack, slice, or understand outside of my inner circle.”
“Right,” she blew a piece of hair out of her eyes. “You look like you need a drink, and I want a story.”
“What I need, is a damned cigar,” I sighed. “But I haven’t found any yet, so I’ll have to settle for a drink.”
I stood up and walked to the door, the Jedi Knight following as I closed and locked the door.
So we headed for my house, I needed a break after two months of a hellish siege and living in the cockpit of my Warhammer, and Siri wanted to make sure that her friend wasn’t too close to the edge.
“Listen,” I said after I opened the door to my small house. “I already did my twenty-two today. You don’t have to worry too much.”
“I don’t even know what that means,” she frowned. “But no one needs to be alone in a time like this.”
“We’re corrupting you,” I chuckled as I flipped lights on and pulled a mostly-full bottle of whisky out of a cabinet.
“I suppose,” she set the bottle down on the small four person table while I grabbed glasses. “Now, tell me what happened on the ground and I’ll do the same for the space battle.”
We shared stories of the conflict long into the night, the bottle still mostly full as we only drank sparingly when we needed to wet out tongues. Because sometimes, all you need to make it through the darkness is a solid friend by your side and enough ammunition to kill anything that stands in your way.
“Hmm,” I woke up gradually, for once the klaxon of my alarm clock having been silenced the night before.
“Fuuuuck, that was some good sleep,” I sat up and stretched, the endorphins making me sleepy for a moment before the fog of the morning vanished.
Even through the stress, I had been able to find some rest and peace, and that was something I hadn’t had in years. Then the warm body next to me shifted and the memories of the night before came back like an F-15 beating the atmosphere into submission.
“Whelp,” I glanced at the nude blond next to me. “Might as well enjoy it.”
I scooted back down and pulled the comforter back over me. I’d deal with that potential issue tomorrow…
The day began with a funeral…
It wasn’t the first funeral I’d overseen as the head of a mercenary company, and it wouldn’t be the last. I had had men and women die under my command. I’d seen death up close and laughed in her face as she attempted to snatch my life from me.
Regardless of how things went, there would always be a part of me that felt guilty for living when others died. There was something inside that screamed and railed against the cold and brutal reality of the world. I had done everything possible to ensure that those under my command lived. I Had nearly paid the ultimate price myself. But it was never enough.
The bright young commander of the combat vehicle Fireteam would probably never walk again. Most of her command was dead. And Peterson’s infantry had been whittled down to a mere handful before Sheppard had broken through and came to our aid. For all that people would believe that we had won, we had still lost.
–
–
We had pried the ground-side leader of the Trade Federation out of his tank and began interrogating him. I knew I couldn’t handle the questioning, so I withdrew myself and buried myself in other work. All of this resulted in what I was doing right now.
“Are you ready, sir?” Julia moved the hoverchair beside me.
“No,” I shook my head. “No one’s ever ready for what we’re about to do.”
The two of us made our way to the first house, one of many we would visit today.
“Mrs. Jefferson?” I questioned the woman who stood at the door.
The woman knew what we would say before we opened our mouths to speak again, and tears began flowing.
“Please, come in,” she choked out through broken sobs.
Entering the house, we helped her to a small sofa in the living room of their comfortable home.
“Mrs. Jefferson,” I allowed a tear to trail down before steeling myself for what came next. “I regret to inform you that your husband Kyle perished during the battle against the Trade Federation forces.”
“How did he die?” She asked.
“He was a hero,” I tried to smile and failed. “One of our tanks was disabled, and the rest of the crew was injured. He pulled each of them out and into safety before finally succumbing to his injuries.”
“And the bastards that killed him?” She lifted her eyes. A harsh, bitter anger shone through them. “What’s going to happen to them?”
“We destroyed all of the droids,” Julia said after a minute.
“No,” The widow replied. “What are we going to do to the Trade Federation?”
She wasn’t the only one with that question, and after two weeks, we finally had an answer.
“You understand that I cannot sanction this as the head of the Confederacy of Independent Systems,” Dooku sat on the other side of my desk, a sad, tired look in his eye.
“I know,” I replied. “But if I don’t retaliate, there will be even more consequences.”
“You didn’t let me finish,” the older man smiled sadly. “I cannot sanction the action as the head of government. But as a friend, I wholeheartedly support this action.”
“I thought vengeance wasn’t something the Jedi favored?” I raised an eyebrow.
“It is good that I am not a Jedi, then,” Dooku replied. “I understand the political ramifications of what will happen if you do nothing.”
“I’ll try to leave the Confederacy out of things,” I tapped the desk. “But I can’t promise that the Republic will have a good reaction to things.”
“Beloria is an independent world,” Dooku shrugged. “The politicians will scream regardless of what you do.”
“Then I might as well go all out then.”
We continued discussing plans for a little while before the other man departed; he had to return to Raxus and ensure that the CIS was seen as blameless in anything that happened in the near future.
But I wasn’t alone for long.
“Need someone to break you out of here?” Siri asked, her arms crossed underneath her chest.
“My knight in shining armor,” I grinned back. “Here to save me from the dreaded bars of paperwork!”
“There are droids that can do this,” she picked up one of the sheets and frowned at the language she couldn’t read.
“Sure,” I agreed. “But I’d rather have a medium that no one can hack, slice, or understand outside of my inner circle.”
“Right,” she blew a piece of hair out of her eyes. “You look like you need a drink, and I want a story.”
“What I need, is a damned cigar,” I sighed. “But I haven’t found any yet, so I’ll have to settle for a drink.”
I stood up and walked to the door, the Jedi Knight following as I closed and locked the door.
So we headed for my house, I needed a break after two months of a hellish siege and living in the cockpit of my Warhammer, and Siri wanted to make sure that her friend wasn’t too close to the edge.
“Listen,” I said after I opened the door to my small house. “I already did my twenty-two today. You don’t have to worry too much.”
“I don’t even know what that means,” she frowned. “But no one needs to be alone in a time like this.”
“We’re corrupting you,” I chuckled as I flipped lights on and pulled a mostly-full bottle of whisky out of a cabinet.
“I suppose,” she set the bottle down on the small four person table while I grabbed glasses. “Now, tell me what happened on the ground and I’ll do the same for the space battle.”
We shared stories of the conflict long into the night, the bottle still mostly full as we only drank sparingly when we needed to wet out tongues. Because sometimes, all you need to make it through the darkness is a solid friend by your side and enough ammunition to kill anything that stands in your way.
“Hmm,” I woke up gradually, for once the klaxon of my alarm clock having been silenced the night before.
“Fuuuuck, that was some good sleep,” I sat up and stretched, the endorphins making me sleepy for a moment before the fog of the morning vanished.
Even through the stress, I had been able to find some rest and peace, and that was something I hadn’t had in years. Then the warm body next to me shifted and the memories of the night before came back like an F-15 beating the atmosphere into submission.
“Whelp,” I glanced at the nude blond next to me. “Might as well enjoy it.”
I scooted back down and pulled the comforter back over me. I’d deal with that potential issue tomorrow…
Book 2: Chapter 8
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Book 2: Chapter 8
It was Siri shifting the bed that woke me up the second time. The blond stirred and eventually opened her eyes before stretching, the visual doing some… Exciting things to certain parts of her anatomy that caught my eye before I shifted them back up to her face.
Her eyebrow was raised when my gaze finally reached her eyes, and I blushed and turned away. It was odd; I hadn’t been in a relationship for twenty years, but it put me in a situation where I could forge a new romantic bond, and I felt like a teenager again. My emotions were everywhere, and I didn’t know how to feel or what to say anymore.
My decision to put off dealing with the emotions and other issues until now was biting me in the ass. For all intents and purposes, I was a widower who also had two dead children. Even after moving on in life, I still found myself hung up on this. I couldn’t handle things right now, so I was going to do what I’d done in the past when dealing with my emotions recently.
She must have seen something in my face because she sat up and grabbed my hand.
“Mark,” she said softly. “Please turn and look at me.”
I sat back down on the bed and looked at her, my eyes finding her crystalline blue ones and searching for something that indicated this was more than a one-night stand.
Seeing that she now had my complete attention, she continued to speak.
“Mark, I chose this. And while I didn’t intend for things to spiral as fast as they did last night, I don’t regret a single thing. You and I have become close, and I’ve come to realize that I don’t just want to be friends with you. The things that you spoke of when talking about your family and your wife. I want that. I want the love and companionship. I want the ability to pass on what I know to my children, And more importantly, I want all of those things with you.”
I was silent. There was a battle between butterflies and a pit in my stomach. A war between happiness for the future and the sadness of what I hadn’t entirely dealt with yet. My heart beat in my chest like an old Celtic drum, the beat driving blood into my ears.
“I…” I began and choked off. “I think I’d like that as well. But I’m going to be honest here. I’m a fucking mess. I mean, look at me. It’s been nearly twenty years, and I still haven’t fully dealt with the loss of my family.”
“Something that I am learning from you and those around you,” Siri smiled. “Is that emotions simply are. It is how we respond to those emotions that results in actions. I think you have made progress. But you blind yourself in this moment because sometimes grief can rise again in moments of joy and stress. I will never replace the love that you and your wife shared. But I hope that in time, it will grow to love that equals that of what you once had.”
The Jedi Knight pulled me into a soft kiss.
“Now, enough of the heavy subjects,” she stood up, grabbed her Jedi Cloak, and slung it over her shoulders. “I’m a bit hungry.”
“Right,” I latched onto something familiar. “I can whip together some breakfast. Do you need to use the bathroom or anything?”
“I wouldn’t mind using your ‘Fresher,” Siri sniffed at her armpit before wrinkling her nose.
“Shower’s the second door on the left across from the toilet,” I told her as I pulled a pair of gym shorts on. “Now, I’ll start breakfast while you shower.”
As she left the room, I moved to the kitchen, my mind beginning to sift through my emotions while my body went through the motions of making breakfast.
“Something smells delicious,” a voice broke me out of my reverie, making me jump slightly.
Siri stood at the entrance of the kitchen, her still damp hair a bit of a mess and one of my shirts swallowing her frame.
“My tunic is going through a cleaning cycle, she explained. “So I grabbed what I thought would fit out of your clothes. She shrugged. “I believe I was wrong.”
“Nope,” I replied. “In fact, I think it looks better on you than on me.”
Shifting something so it wouldn’t be noticeable, I grabbed the plates and began to ladle food on them, two cups of coffee joining the table as I cleared off the liquor bottle and decanters from the night before.
As we sat down, the atmosphere began to lighten, and I felt us settle into a routine we’d shared while searching for the Katana fleet or during our travels to Coruscant and back to the Outer Rim.
We ate and talked, the topics shifting from our opinions on certain people to hobbies that I found interesting and would like to share with her someday.
We went over philosophy, and eventually, the topic drifted to the events of last night.
“I don’t regret it,” she said quietly after we’d finished our food and were left with coffee. “You do know that, right? I saw a chance to show you I was serious and took it. And you know what,” a smirk slid across her face. “I’d do it again, too.”
I felt my cheeks burn at how she looked at me before I replied. “Yeah, it’s been seventeen years since I’ve done anything like that.”
Siri finished her coffee and placed her cup by the sink before moving over and sitting on my lap.
“We could try round 2.”
“While I’m tempted,” I shifted awkwardly. “I think that I have some work to do.”
“Someone else can do it for once,” she got up and tried to pull me out of the chair to no avail. “You’re about to be busy.”
Author’s Note: This is a bit of a shorter update. But I felt like it was necessary.
It was Siri shifting the bed that woke me up the second time. The blond stirred and eventually opened her eyes before stretching, the visual doing some… Exciting things to certain parts of her anatomy that caught my eye before I shifted them back up to her face.
Her eyebrow was raised when my gaze finally reached her eyes, and I blushed and turned away. It was odd; I hadn’t been in a relationship for twenty years, but it put me in a situation where I could forge a new romantic bond, and I felt like a teenager again. My emotions were everywhere, and I didn’t know how to feel or what to say anymore.
My decision to put off dealing with the emotions and other issues until now was biting me in the ass. For all intents and purposes, I was a widower who also had two dead children. Even after moving on in life, I still found myself hung up on this. I couldn’t handle things right now, so I was going to do what I’d done in the past when dealing with my emotions recently.
She must have seen something in my face because she sat up and grabbed my hand.
“Mark,” she said softly. “Please turn and look at me.”
I sat back down on the bed and looked at her, my eyes finding her crystalline blue ones and searching for something that indicated this was more than a one-night stand.
Seeing that she now had my complete attention, she continued to speak.
“Mark, I chose this. And while I didn’t intend for things to spiral as fast as they did last night, I don’t regret a single thing. You and I have become close, and I’ve come to realize that I don’t just want to be friends with you. The things that you spoke of when talking about your family and your wife. I want that. I want the love and companionship. I want the ability to pass on what I know to my children, And more importantly, I want all of those things with you.”
I was silent. There was a battle between butterflies and a pit in my stomach. A war between happiness for the future and the sadness of what I hadn’t entirely dealt with yet. My heart beat in my chest like an old Celtic drum, the beat driving blood into my ears.
“I…” I began and choked off. “I think I’d like that as well. But I’m going to be honest here. I’m a fucking mess. I mean, look at me. It’s been nearly twenty years, and I still haven’t fully dealt with the loss of my family.”
“Something that I am learning from you and those around you,” Siri smiled. “Is that emotions simply are. It is how we respond to those emotions that results in actions. I think you have made progress. But you blind yourself in this moment because sometimes grief can rise again in moments of joy and stress. I will never replace the love that you and your wife shared. But I hope that in time, it will grow to love that equals that of what you once had.”
The Jedi Knight pulled me into a soft kiss.
“Now, enough of the heavy subjects,” she stood up, grabbed her Jedi Cloak, and slung it over her shoulders. “I’m a bit hungry.”
“Right,” I latched onto something familiar. “I can whip together some breakfast. Do you need to use the bathroom or anything?”
“I wouldn’t mind using your ‘Fresher,” Siri sniffed at her armpit before wrinkling her nose.
“Shower’s the second door on the left across from the toilet,” I told her as I pulled a pair of gym shorts on. “Now, I’ll start breakfast while you shower.”
As she left the room, I moved to the kitchen, my mind beginning to sift through my emotions while my body went through the motions of making breakfast.
“Something smells delicious,” a voice broke me out of my reverie, making me jump slightly.
Siri stood at the entrance of the kitchen, her still damp hair a bit of a mess and one of my shirts swallowing her frame.
“My tunic is going through a cleaning cycle, she explained. “So I grabbed what I thought would fit out of your clothes. She shrugged. “I believe I was wrong.”
“Nope,” I replied. “In fact, I think it looks better on you than on me.”
Shifting something so it wouldn’t be noticeable, I grabbed the plates and began to ladle food on them, two cups of coffee joining the table as I cleared off the liquor bottle and decanters from the night before.
As we sat down, the atmosphere began to lighten, and I felt us settle into a routine we’d shared while searching for the Katana fleet or during our travels to Coruscant and back to the Outer Rim.
We ate and talked, the topics shifting from our opinions on certain people to hobbies that I found interesting and would like to share with her someday.
We went over philosophy, and eventually, the topic drifted to the events of last night.
“I don’t regret it,” she said quietly after we’d finished our food and were left with coffee. “You do know that, right? I saw a chance to show you I was serious and took it. And you know what,” a smirk slid across her face. “I’d do it again, too.”
I felt my cheeks burn at how she looked at me before I replied. “Yeah, it’s been seventeen years since I’ve done anything like that.”
Siri finished her coffee and placed her cup by the sink before moving over and sitting on my lap.
“We could try round 2.”
“While I’m tempted,” I shifted awkwardly. “I think that I have some work to do.”
“Someone else can do it for once,” she got up and tried to pull me out of the chair to no avail. “You’re about to be busy.”
Author’s Note: This is a bit of a shorter update. But I felt like it was necessary.
Book 2: Chapter 9
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Book 2: Chapter 9
“I’m going to be turning in my lightsaber,” Siri and I sat around my small dining room table. “While I have sided with Count Dooku lately, I have not officially left the Order.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I offered. “I understand that this won’t be the same sort of relationship that I had previously.”
“No,” Siri shook her head. “It would be wrong of me to remain in the order when I have violated one of its tenants.”
“It’s not against the code to be married or have a family, Siri,” I replied, sipping at my coffee.
“All the same,” she sipped at her coffee. “I will not wander the galaxy while being heavily pregnant or having someone to return to every night. And while the Code may not say anything about marriage or love, the current beliefs of the Council and the majority of the Order would likely have them cast me out regardless of any arguments that I would make.”
“It’s your decision,” I shrugged. “And it’s not like I don’t have a replacement for your lightsaber if you want to swap the crystals between them.”
Siri reached out a hand and called said lightsaber to her hand, her thumb finding the switch and igniting the violet blade with a snap-hiss!
“It is not quite the same as mine,” she examined the length of the blade, the warm hum filling the air when she moved it. “But, this would serve as an adequate replacement until I built a new saber.”
“You’ll be heading to Coruscant then?” I asked.
“Yes,” Siri said, deactivating the lightsaber and handing it to me. “I have a few things to do before I return.”
“I’ll be waiting,” I replied. “But I might not be on Beloria when you return.”
“Striking back against the Trade Federation,” Siri nodded.
“I’m not going to be in the field on this one,” I tapped the table. “I’m going to be coordinating the attack from orbit.”
“Then I suppose we should get moving,” she stood up and grabbed her cloak.
“Yeah,” I stood and hugged her, gently kissing her forehead. “I’m not sure I like us having to separate so soon, though.”
“Your sense of duty and responsibility is one of the things that drew me to you,” Siri looked up into my eyes. “Do not lose it now.”
“Let’s get you to your ship then,” I gently kissed her lips and helped her into her cloak. “The faster we both resolve our projects, the better.”
Date: May 27, 3017 AD/27.05.7956 CRC (Coruscant Reckoning Calendar)
Location: Beloria, Independent system
“When’s the ceremony,” Jack Sheppard grinned at me as he entered the briefing room.
“Ceremony’s after we finish our next job,” I replied. “Now, take your seats; we need to get started on this.”
The two of us waited as the remainder of the command staff entered the room and began taking their seats.
“Alright, listen up!” I stood up. “We’re going to make this as quick and dirty as possible. I’d hate to kill all of you with a PowerPoint.”
The staff chuckled, and I gestured for Sheppard to hand out the plans.
“Next month, we begin OPERATION: PEDESTAL,” I looked around the room. “While Neimoidia is not the current capital of the Trade Federation, it is still considered one of their most important worlds and is decently defended.”
I clicked, and an image of the planet and the spade around it appeared.
“Our goal is twofold,” Sheppard took over the next part.
“One, we’re going to destroy the fleet defending Neimoidia in detail,” Sheppard nodded at Commodores Victoria Jewel and Kaylee Frye. “The second is to invade and strip the planet of any and all factories dedicated to the supply of war materials to the Trade Federation.”
“Rendili’s supposed to have quite a few ships ready for us by the middle of next month,” I clicked over to an image of the ships in question. “Assuming that they managed to stick to the deadlines, then we managed to get another dozen Stings. They’ll be operating as escorts for the new Inhibitor-Class battleships and Gladius-Class cruisers we’re testing out.”
“I wasn’t aware we’d licensed the Sting out,” Hober commented.
“We’re going to be treating them as gunboats,” Jewel nodded at the newly promoted Commander. “Congrats on your promotion, Hober; you’re now in charge of all the Stings used in your AO.”
“Inhibitor.” Kaylee’s brow furrowed in thought. “That’s the class based on our Leviathan?”
“Yup,” I nodded. “According to the information I’ve got, the crew requirements and control schemes are nigh identical to the Leviathan. We should be able to acclimate rather quickly.”
“Anyway, in-depth planning is to be conducted by the individual unit commanders,” Sheppard glanced at each of those COs. “You have a week to assemble your operational plans based on what intel we can get. We’ll approve or tweak things as we get closer to the invasion. Now, are there any questions?”
“Are we planning on an occupation?” Peterson glanced at the rough notes he’d jotted down.
“No,” I shook my head. “We’re sending a message, not dealing with insurgencies.”
“Good,” he gave a sigh of relief. “I’d hate to get bogged down like that.”
“You and me both, brother,” Sheppard nodded in agreement.
“I assume my marines are to act as usual,” Major Paige grinned.
“Pretty much,” Jewel replied. “Have some of your people on standby for boarding actions if we spot an opening, but aside from that, simply stay on defense.”
“Anything else critical that needs to be drawn attention to? I asked
“Where are we getting the crews for these new ships?” Kaylee asked. “I’ve got training cadres, but not enough to fill the personnel requirements for this many new ships.”
“We’re shifting the Gozantis down to system defense only,” I replied. “And stripping them down to skeleton crews.”
“That’s still only enough to crew half of the ships you’ve got listed here,” Kaylee flipped through the printout. “So what aren’t you telling us yet?”
“The CIS has paid us to conduct ‘Training cruises’ for their new navy personnel,” I confessed. “They’re all green. But people like Representative Clay still wanted to support us, even if they couldn’t do it publicly.”
“I’m pretty sure I saw him publicly supporting us, " Mathis said. “He’s not a silent individual on shit like this.”
“No, but the others allied with him are mostly quiet,” I responded. “But that said, the crews will be made up of CIS personnel that we’ll be training on the new systems in real scenarios before transferring them back to the Confederacy Navy. And we’re boosting recruitment for our own space-bound forces as well. Expect promotions and lots of training to come over the next month. We’re about to be very busy people. How we handle this going forward will cement our reputation in the galaxy, whether for good or ill. Now, you’re all dismissed. Take your time and put together solid plans. I want this slow and smooth.”
“I’m going to be turning in my lightsaber,” Siri and I sat around my small dining room table. “While I have sided with Count Dooku lately, I have not officially left the Order.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I offered. “I understand that this won’t be the same sort of relationship that I had previously.”
“No,” Siri shook her head. “It would be wrong of me to remain in the order when I have violated one of its tenants.”
“It’s not against the code to be married or have a family, Siri,” I replied, sipping at my coffee.
“All the same,” she sipped at her coffee. “I will not wander the galaxy while being heavily pregnant or having someone to return to every night. And while the Code may not say anything about marriage or love, the current beliefs of the Council and the majority of the Order would likely have them cast me out regardless of any arguments that I would make.”
“It’s your decision,” I shrugged. “And it’s not like I don’t have a replacement for your lightsaber if you want to swap the crystals between them.”
Siri reached out a hand and called said lightsaber to her hand, her thumb finding the switch and igniting the violet blade with a snap-hiss!
“It is not quite the same as mine,” she examined the length of the blade, the warm hum filling the air when she moved it. “But, this would serve as an adequate replacement until I built a new saber.”
“You’ll be heading to Coruscant then?” I asked.
“Yes,” Siri said, deactivating the lightsaber and handing it to me. “I have a few things to do before I return.”
“I’ll be waiting,” I replied. “But I might not be on Beloria when you return.”
“Striking back against the Trade Federation,” Siri nodded.
“I’m not going to be in the field on this one,” I tapped the table. “I’m going to be coordinating the attack from orbit.”
“Then I suppose we should get moving,” she stood up and grabbed her cloak.
“Yeah,” I stood and hugged her, gently kissing her forehead. “I’m not sure I like us having to separate so soon, though.”
“Your sense of duty and responsibility is one of the things that drew me to you,” Siri looked up into my eyes. “Do not lose it now.”
“Let’s get you to your ship then,” I gently kissed her lips and helped her into her cloak. “The faster we both resolve our projects, the better.”
Date: May 27, 3017 AD/27.05.7956 CRC (Coruscant Reckoning Calendar)
Location: Beloria, Independent system
“When’s the ceremony,” Jack Sheppard grinned at me as he entered the briefing room.
“Ceremony’s after we finish our next job,” I replied. “Now, take your seats; we need to get started on this.”
The two of us waited as the remainder of the command staff entered the room and began taking their seats.
“Alright, listen up!” I stood up. “We’re going to make this as quick and dirty as possible. I’d hate to kill all of you with a PowerPoint.”
The staff chuckled, and I gestured for Sheppard to hand out the plans.
“Next month, we begin OPERATION: PEDESTAL,” I looked around the room. “While Neimoidia is not the current capital of the Trade Federation, it is still considered one of their most important worlds and is decently defended.”
I clicked, and an image of the planet and the spade around it appeared.
“Our goal is twofold,” Sheppard took over the next part.
“One, we’re going to destroy the fleet defending Neimoidia in detail,” Sheppard nodded at Commodores Victoria Jewel and Kaylee Frye. “The second is to invade and strip the planet of any and all factories dedicated to the supply of war materials to the Trade Federation.”
“Rendili’s supposed to have quite a few ships ready for us by the middle of next month,” I clicked over to an image of the ships in question. “Assuming that they managed to stick to the deadlines, then we managed to get another dozen Stings. They’ll be operating as escorts for the new Inhibitor-Class battleships and Gladius-Class cruisers we’re testing out.”
“I wasn’t aware we’d licensed the Sting out,” Hober commented.
“We’re going to be treating them as gunboats,” Jewel nodded at the newly promoted Commander. “Congrats on your promotion, Hober; you’re now in charge of all the Stings used in your AO.”
“Inhibitor.” Kaylee’s brow furrowed in thought. “That’s the class based on our Leviathan?”
“Yup,” I nodded. “According to the information I’ve got, the crew requirements and control schemes are nigh identical to the Leviathan. We should be able to acclimate rather quickly.”
“Anyway, in-depth planning is to be conducted by the individual unit commanders,” Sheppard glanced at each of those COs. “You have a week to assemble your operational plans based on what intel we can get. We’ll approve or tweak things as we get closer to the invasion. Now, are there any questions?”
“Are we planning on an occupation?” Peterson glanced at the rough notes he’d jotted down.
“No,” I shook my head. “We’re sending a message, not dealing with insurgencies.”
“Good,” he gave a sigh of relief. “I’d hate to get bogged down like that.”
“You and me both, brother,” Sheppard nodded in agreement.
“I assume my marines are to act as usual,” Major Paige grinned.
“Pretty much,” Jewel replied. “Have some of your people on standby for boarding actions if we spot an opening, but aside from that, simply stay on defense.”
“Anything else critical that needs to be drawn attention to? I asked
“Where are we getting the crews for these new ships?” Kaylee asked. “I’ve got training cadres, but not enough to fill the personnel requirements for this many new ships.”
“We’re shifting the Gozantis down to system defense only,” I replied. “And stripping them down to skeleton crews.”
“That’s still only enough to crew half of the ships you’ve got listed here,” Kaylee flipped through the printout. “So what aren’t you telling us yet?”
“The CIS has paid us to conduct ‘Training cruises’ for their new navy personnel,” I confessed. “They’re all green. But people like Representative Clay still wanted to support us, even if they couldn’t do it publicly.”
“I’m pretty sure I saw him publicly supporting us, " Mathis said. “He’s not a silent individual on shit like this.”
“No, but the others allied with him are mostly quiet,” I responded. “But that said, the crews will be made up of CIS personnel that we’ll be training on the new systems in real scenarios before transferring them back to the Confederacy Navy. And we’re boosting recruitment for our own space-bound forces as well. Expect promotions and lots of training to come over the next month. We’re about to be very busy people. How we handle this going forward will cement our reputation in the galaxy, whether for good or ill. Now, you’re all dismissed. Take your time and put together solid plans. I want this slow and smooth.”
Book 2: Chapter 10
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Book 2: Chapter 10
Date: June 25, 3017 AD/25.06.7956 CRC (Coruscant Reckoning Calendar)
Location: Cato Neimoidia, Cato Neimoidia system, Colonies Region, Galactic Republic
“Take us in easy,” Paige ordered the Marine who was piloting the captured Profit Margin. “They still think that we’re the last survivor of the battle on Beloria. We want them fooled for as long as possible.”
“Aye, ma’am,” the Twi’Lek wiped some sweat off of his brow and continued bringing the Lucrehulk in even closer. “The repair yards are signaling for me to stop soon.”
“Follow their instructions,” Paige replied. “I’m going to have the Marines board the shuttles in a minute.”
She turned to the slicers stationed on the bridge. “Please tell me that we got what we came here for.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Kurassh grinned, the once Criminal now enjoying his role as a Marksman. “I’ve got the control codes for every droid in the system. And once we engage, I can lock them out and begin issuing orders.”
“How long will it take for them to reset?” Paige asked.
“Depends on the skill of their techs,” Kurassh shrugged. “Could be a few minutes, could be an hour, it could be days.”
“Alright,” Paige glanced at her watch. “We start the operation in five minutes. The other parts of PEDESTAL should be under way within the hour.”
“I’ll start spinning up my programs,” the Togruta cracked his knuckles and began tapping rapidly on his datapad. “We’re ready and waiting for your command.”
“You already know the orders,” Paige replied. “Execute once we’re on the ground, and we’ll see if we managed to time this properly.”
–
–
“Uh, captain,” a B1 looked at the Neimoidian in charge of the local fleet. “The Profit Margin stopped moving.”
“She’s damaged,” the robed figure shrugged off the droid and continued to comb through his recent investments. “Of course she stopped moving, they’ll probably need to be tugged into the repair yards.”
“They’re sending ships to the surface,” the droid relayed, only to be waved off. “Sir,” the droid then seemed to shut down for a brief moment before it refocused. “You’re uhm under arrest.”
The surrounding droids all pointed weapons at the few living bridge crew members, surrounding them and putting them into the escape pods before jettisoning them.
Then everything slowed down for a moment as they received new orders and returned to their stations.
“Destination is set,” the droid relayed, programming in the hyperspace coordinates.
“Execute.”
The fleet that protected Cato Neimoidia vanished into hyperspace, those living aboard it were heading for the surface and the fleet never again returned to protect the brightest of the purse worlds.”
Meanwhile, on the surface…
–
–
“Get that Droideka factory packed up!” Paige yelled at the droids and Marines looting everything that could be useful. “This won’t ever work again, so we need to grab everything we can now!”
The droid factories were packed up, everything that could be found useful, from blaster parts to droid brains were loaded up and shipped off towards the Profit Margin.
“Ma’am, enemy slicers are starting to break through,” Kurassh relayed over the radio. “You need to leave, now!”
“Drop what you have and get on the ships!” Paige ordered. “Kurassh, I need you to shut down the droids that are onboard the ships.”
“Already done, but I can’t do the same to the ones on the surface, you’re going to have to fight your way out if I lose control.”
The Marines began boarding the shuttles and heading for the surface as the droids began to start heading for the racks of blasters that hadn’t been loaded onto the shuttles yet.
“Shuttles one through fifteen are onboard, Major,” the report came, awash in static. “Fifteen through twenty five have taken off, there’s only five remaining.”
Paige watched as her Marines lifted off in the next few shuttles, her eyes shifting to her six as she felt something shift in the area.
“Weapons free,” she barked. “Bravo Platoon, you’re on me, we’re going to cover the LZ until they’re gone.”
Her rifle tucked into her shoulder, she fired at the first of the droids heading for the blaster racks, the large projectile shattering the head and sending the metallic form to the ground.
But there were so many droids, this was the capital of the Trade Federation, and they had enough droids stashed away that they couldn’t prevent all of them from arming themselves.
And as they began to fall back to the last shuttle, the Marines began to fall.
“Grab the bodies and get them on the ship!” Paige grabbed a magazine off of her fallen brother, slamming it into her empty rifle and continuing to fall back and cover her people.
The last few marines limped onto the shuttle and the door shut behind them, the sound of blaster fire being absorbed by the shields and bulkheads before the shuttle left their effective range.
They had been successful, almost all of their objectives had been completed, and they hadn’t suffered the projected casualties. Paige just hoped that the rest of PEDESTAL was going the same way.
Date: June 25, 3017 AD/25.06.7956 CRC (Coruscant Reckoning Calendar)
Location: Neimoidia, Neimoidia system, Colonies Region, Galactic Republic
“All ships are in position and the system is completely interdicted,” Captain Jasiah Ali reported.
“Begin Battle plan Echo,” Commodore Victoria Jewel ordered. “I want their ships to be shattered and dust before we deploy the troop transports.”
The ships launched their new Dart-Class fighters and the bombers in the form of the new Stukas and Lightnings that had recently left the factories.
“All ships, fall into escort positions,” Hober ordered his flights of Sting gunships. “Remember to coordinate fire with the fighter wings and call out your targets appropriately.”
“Commodore, all Stings are in position and ready for further orders.”
“Stick to your lanes of fire,” Jewel replied. “We’re going to break these bastards, shred their fleets, and leave them with a lesson that they won’t forget while we’re around.”
“You heard the lady!” Blaze grinned as he replied. “All fighters, bombers, and interceptors, we’ve been told to leave nothing between us and the planet, and I don’t know about you, but I aim to please.”
“Colonel Hull, everything is ready and we’re go for OPERATION PEDESTAL,” Victoria reported to the CO of the Marksman where he waited aboard the Leviathan. “Your orders?”
“Send it.”
Date: June 25, 3017 AD/25.06.7956 CRC (Coruscant Reckoning Calendar)
Location: Cato Neimoidia, Cato Neimoidia system, Colonies Region, Galactic Republic
“Take us in easy,” Paige ordered the Marine who was piloting the captured Profit Margin. “They still think that we’re the last survivor of the battle on Beloria. We want them fooled for as long as possible.”
“Aye, ma’am,” the Twi’Lek wiped some sweat off of his brow and continued bringing the Lucrehulk in even closer. “The repair yards are signaling for me to stop soon.”
“Follow their instructions,” Paige replied. “I’m going to have the Marines board the shuttles in a minute.”
She turned to the slicers stationed on the bridge. “Please tell me that we got what we came here for.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Kurassh grinned, the once Criminal now enjoying his role as a Marksman. “I’ve got the control codes for every droid in the system. And once we engage, I can lock them out and begin issuing orders.”
“How long will it take for them to reset?” Paige asked.
“Depends on the skill of their techs,” Kurassh shrugged. “Could be a few minutes, could be an hour, it could be days.”
“Alright,” Paige glanced at her watch. “We start the operation in five minutes. The other parts of PEDESTAL should be under way within the hour.”
“I’ll start spinning up my programs,” the Togruta cracked his knuckles and began tapping rapidly on his datapad. “We’re ready and waiting for your command.”
“You already know the orders,” Paige replied. “Execute once we’re on the ground, and we’ll see if we managed to time this properly.”
–
–
“Uh, captain,” a B1 looked at the Neimoidian in charge of the local fleet. “The Profit Margin stopped moving.”
“She’s damaged,” the robed figure shrugged off the droid and continued to comb through his recent investments. “Of course she stopped moving, they’ll probably need to be tugged into the repair yards.”
“They’re sending ships to the surface,” the droid relayed, only to be waved off. “Sir,” the droid then seemed to shut down for a brief moment before it refocused. “You’re uhm under arrest.”
The surrounding droids all pointed weapons at the few living bridge crew members, surrounding them and putting them into the escape pods before jettisoning them.
Then everything slowed down for a moment as they received new orders and returned to their stations.
“Destination is set,” the droid relayed, programming in the hyperspace coordinates.
“Execute.”
The fleet that protected Cato Neimoidia vanished into hyperspace, those living aboard it were heading for the surface and the fleet never again returned to protect the brightest of the purse worlds.”
Meanwhile, on the surface…
–
–
“Get that Droideka factory packed up!” Paige yelled at the droids and Marines looting everything that could be useful. “This won’t ever work again, so we need to grab everything we can now!”
The droid factories were packed up, everything that could be found useful, from blaster parts to droid brains were loaded up and shipped off towards the Profit Margin.
“Ma’am, enemy slicers are starting to break through,” Kurassh relayed over the radio. “You need to leave, now!”
“Drop what you have and get on the ships!” Paige ordered. “Kurassh, I need you to shut down the droids that are onboard the ships.”
“Already done, but I can’t do the same to the ones on the surface, you’re going to have to fight your way out if I lose control.”
The Marines began boarding the shuttles and heading for the surface as the droids began to start heading for the racks of blasters that hadn’t been loaded onto the shuttles yet.
“Shuttles one through fifteen are onboard, Major,” the report came, awash in static. “Fifteen through twenty five have taken off, there’s only five remaining.”
Paige watched as her Marines lifted off in the next few shuttles, her eyes shifting to her six as she felt something shift in the area.
“Weapons free,” she barked. “Bravo Platoon, you’re on me, we’re going to cover the LZ until they’re gone.”
Her rifle tucked into her shoulder, she fired at the first of the droids heading for the blaster racks, the large projectile shattering the head and sending the metallic form to the ground.
But there were so many droids, this was the capital of the Trade Federation, and they had enough droids stashed away that they couldn’t prevent all of them from arming themselves.
And as they began to fall back to the last shuttle, the Marines began to fall.
“Grab the bodies and get them on the ship!” Paige grabbed a magazine off of her fallen brother, slamming it into her empty rifle and continuing to fall back and cover her people.
The last few marines limped onto the shuttle and the door shut behind them, the sound of blaster fire being absorbed by the shields and bulkheads before the shuttle left their effective range.
They had been successful, almost all of their objectives had been completed, and they hadn’t suffered the projected casualties. Paige just hoped that the rest of PEDESTAL was going the same way.
Date: June 25, 3017 AD/25.06.7956 CRC (Coruscant Reckoning Calendar)
Location: Neimoidia, Neimoidia system, Colonies Region, Galactic Republic
“All ships are in position and the system is completely interdicted,” Captain Jasiah Ali reported.
“Begin Battle plan Echo,” Commodore Victoria Jewel ordered. “I want their ships to be shattered and dust before we deploy the troop transports.”
The ships launched their new Dart-Class fighters and the bombers in the form of the new Stukas and Lightnings that had recently left the factories.
“All ships, fall into escort positions,” Hober ordered his flights of Sting gunships. “Remember to coordinate fire with the fighter wings and call out your targets appropriately.”
“Commodore, all Stings are in position and ready for further orders.”
“Stick to your lanes of fire,” Jewel replied. “We’re going to break these bastards, shred their fleets, and leave them with a lesson that they won’t forget while we’re around.”
“You heard the lady!” Blaze grinned as he replied. “All fighters, bombers, and interceptors, we’ve been told to leave nothing between us and the planet, and I don’t know about you, but I aim to please.”
“Colonel Hull, everything is ready and we’re go for OPERATION PEDESTAL,” Victoria reported to the CO of the Marksman where he waited aboard the Leviathan. “Your orders?”
“Send it.”
Book 2: Chapter 11
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Book 2: Chapter 11
The Leviathan might not be the newest or biggest ship, but she was the flagship of the Marksman. For all that she had been used for evil deeds long ago in the past, in the present, she had become a beacon of hope.
And today, she was doing what she had been designed to do.
“I want those frigates destroyed,” Commodore Jewel ordered. “Have our aerospace assets take them out. Once the escorts are destroyed we’ll move in and start hammering those Lucrehulks.”
“Aye aye, ma’am!” the holotable was showing the fleets converging on eachother. The Trade Federation vessels were lit by an angry red glow, while the Marksman ships were golden.
Jewel leaned over the table and watched as the small stars that indicated starfighters and ASF darted in and out of furballs around the ships, the heavy Stuka and Lightnings external payload dumping proton torpedoes and concussion missiles into areas where their primary weapons had weakened shields.
For a moment, things seemed to be going entirely to plan, and then Saint Murphy got involved.
“Contact!” the sensors officer yelled. “We’ve got another twelve ships that just dropped out of hyperspace because of our interdict.”
“Identification?” Jewel asked.
“Seventh Interstellar Trade Fleet, Trade Federation,” the officer reported. “Two Lucrehulks and escorts.”
“Spin us around to heading one-eight-zero, and have the Gladius and Tip of the Spear come about to flank.”
“Ma’am, Commander Hober is attaching escorts to assist, but the majority of his ships are with the rest of the fleet.”
–
–
The Leviathan led the clash of the fleet against the new trade Federation fleet that had stumbled upon the battle raging. The Lucrehulks were still the cargo carrying variants and only had a few Turbolaser batteries and droid starfighters to fight them off, so they left those two vessels alone for now. Instead, they focused their attention on the warships that challenged them.
The Leviathan, Gladius, and Tip of the Spear formed the tip of a triangle as they focused fire on the first of the Munificent frigates that attempted to intercept.
The frigate’s shields held a first, and then buckled under the fire from the three cruisers before its armor shattered and the ship began drifting.
The remaining Trade Federation vessels engaged in evasive maneuvers and returned fire, the sporadic and uncoordinated effort scattering aimlessly across the shields of the cruisers.
But as the rest of the Marksman interdiction Fleet turned to engage the 7th ITF the Trade Federation seemed to rally, and their frigates and cruisers began to coordinate fire and move into an overlapping formation, sharing and boosting their shield strength and weapons.
The Inhibitor-Class battleships then made their presence known. The Massive ships moving up behind the cruisers and beginning to lend their firepower to the trio.
Then the Gladius began to list, its shields and power generators had been ruptured and hit, the ship now drifting through space. But as the trio of battleships began to open fire, a comms channel was opened.
“This is Captain Sonady Leekmot, of the Trade Federation’s 7th Interstellar Trade Fleet. We surrender. We’re a trade fleet, not a defense fleet. We don’t want to take more damage.”
Jewel glanced at the map and sighed. “Power down your weapons and shields. Then stand down. Once we’re done here, you’ll be allowed to approach Neimoidia again.”
“Understood, we’ll stand aside.”
Meanwhile, the battle closer to Neimoidia itself wasn’t finished yet…
“Evenstar, pull back into escort formation!” Hober barked at the other Sting gunship. “Those enemy frigates are vulnerable, so let’s make sure our heavier ships and fighters get a good opening.”
The Evenstar pulled back into the formation, the gunship shredding a handful of droid fighters that entered its engagement envelope.
“Hey Hober, that you?” Chopper’s Stuka streaked by along with his squadron.
“I didn’t think they let you out of the cage anymore, motormouth!” Hober replied.
“Yeah yeah,” Chopper replied. “Open up a hole for us, we’ve got a Lucrehulk to take out.”
“Copy that, we’ve got you covered.”
The Stings began to power forward, their weapons shredding everything in their path, as they cleared the way for several squadrons of starfighters. The Dart class fighters assisting with destroying the droid fighters while the heavier bombers began to open fire on the Lucrehulk.
The concentrated fire opened a hole in the shields and a host of proton torpedoes streaked through the shields for the droid control portion of the Lucrehulk.
“Peel off, we’ve got to move out and rearm!” Chopper ordered. The fighters peeling back off for their carriers for rearm and repair.
With the fall of the primary droid brain, the Neimoidian defense fleet hesitated for a moment, allowing the Marksman to take advantage of the gaps and destroy several ships before the secondary brains took control.
But the defense fleet was already on the back foot, and had lost momentum to the approaching Marksman.
And the Marksman, despite losses utterly destroyed the fleet, pushing forward and securing the void.
All that was left was to strip the factories down below and leave. They had already done what they had set out to do.
They had shown the Trade Federation and the rest of the Galaxy what would happen if Beloria were attacked again. They had their revenge.
Two days later…
The 7th Interstellar Trade Fleet moved through the shattered remnants of the Neimoidian defense fleet. The Marksman had salvaged their own vessels and towed them out of the system whenever they could, as well as whatever ships were still repairable from the defense fleet itself.
“This is such a waste,” Captain Leekmot sighed, the old Kuati captain shaking his head at the wreckage around him. “Whoever authorized the strike on Beloria was a fool.”
“Captain, the forces on the ground are asking for assistance, it seems that while the damage to the civilian sector was minor, that the droids on the ground are unresponsive.”
“Patch us into their systems. We’ll coordinate the rebuilding efforts,” Leekmot ordered. “And get me a channel to the Council. There’s a conversation that needs to be had."
The Leviathan might not be the newest or biggest ship, but she was the flagship of the Marksman. For all that she had been used for evil deeds long ago in the past, in the present, she had become a beacon of hope.
And today, she was doing what she had been designed to do.
“I want those frigates destroyed,” Commodore Jewel ordered. “Have our aerospace assets take them out. Once the escorts are destroyed we’ll move in and start hammering those Lucrehulks.”
“Aye aye, ma’am!” the holotable was showing the fleets converging on eachother. The Trade Federation vessels were lit by an angry red glow, while the Marksman ships were golden.
Jewel leaned over the table and watched as the small stars that indicated starfighters and ASF darted in and out of furballs around the ships, the heavy Stuka and Lightnings external payload dumping proton torpedoes and concussion missiles into areas where their primary weapons had weakened shields.
For a moment, things seemed to be going entirely to plan, and then Saint Murphy got involved.
“Contact!” the sensors officer yelled. “We’ve got another twelve ships that just dropped out of hyperspace because of our interdict.”
“Identification?” Jewel asked.
“Seventh Interstellar Trade Fleet, Trade Federation,” the officer reported. “Two Lucrehulks and escorts.”
“Spin us around to heading one-eight-zero, and have the Gladius and Tip of the Spear come about to flank.”
“Ma’am, Commander Hober is attaching escorts to assist, but the majority of his ships are with the rest of the fleet.”
–
–
The Leviathan led the clash of the fleet against the new trade Federation fleet that had stumbled upon the battle raging. The Lucrehulks were still the cargo carrying variants and only had a few Turbolaser batteries and droid starfighters to fight them off, so they left those two vessels alone for now. Instead, they focused their attention on the warships that challenged them.
The Leviathan, Gladius, and Tip of the Spear formed the tip of a triangle as they focused fire on the first of the Munificent frigates that attempted to intercept.
The frigate’s shields held a first, and then buckled under the fire from the three cruisers before its armor shattered and the ship began drifting.
The remaining Trade Federation vessels engaged in evasive maneuvers and returned fire, the sporadic and uncoordinated effort scattering aimlessly across the shields of the cruisers.
But as the rest of the Marksman interdiction Fleet turned to engage the 7th ITF the Trade Federation seemed to rally, and their frigates and cruisers began to coordinate fire and move into an overlapping formation, sharing and boosting their shield strength and weapons.
The Inhibitor-Class battleships then made their presence known. The Massive ships moving up behind the cruisers and beginning to lend their firepower to the trio.
Then the Gladius began to list, its shields and power generators had been ruptured and hit, the ship now drifting through space. But as the trio of battleships began to open fire, a comms channel was opened.
“This is Captain Sonady Leekmot, of the Trade Federation’s 7th Interstellar Trade Fleet. We surrender. We’re a trade fleet, not a defense fleet. We don’t want to take more damage.”
Jewel glanced at the map and sighed. “Power down your weapons and shields. Then stand down. Once we’re done here, you’ll be allowed to approach Neimoidia again.”
“Understood, we’ll stand aside.”
Meanwhile, the battle closer to Neimoidia itself wasn’t finished yet…
“Evenstar, pull back into escort formation!” Hober barked at the other Sting gunship. “Those enemy frigates are vulnerable, so let’s make sure our heavier ships and fighters get a good opening.”
The Evenstar pulled back into the formation, the gunship shredding a handful of droid fighters that entered its engagement envelope.
“Hey Hober, that you?” Chopper’s Stuka streaked by along with his squadron.
“I didn’t think they let you out of the cage anymore, motormouth!” Hober replied.
“Yeah yeah,” Chopper replied. “Open up a hole for us, we’ve got a Lucrehulk to take out.”
“Copy that, we’ve got you covered.”
The Stings began to power forward, their weapons shredding everything in their path, as they cleared the way for several squadrons of starfighters. The Dart class fighters assisting with destroying the droid fighters while the heavier bombers began to open fire on the Lucrehulk.
The concentrated fire opened a hole in the shields and a host of proton torpedoes streaked through the shields for the droid control portion of the Lucrehulk.
“Peel off, we’ve got to move out and rearm!” Chopper ordered. The fighters peeling back off for their carriers for rearm and repair.
With the fall of the primary droid brain, the Neimoidian defense fleet hesitated for a moment, allowing the Marksman to take advantage of the gaps and destroy several ships before the secondary brains took control.
But the defense fleet was already on the back foot, and had lost momentum to the approaching Marksman.
And the Marksman, despite losses utterly destroyed the fleet, pushing forward and securing the void.
All that was left was to strip the factories down below and leave. They had already done what they had set out to do.
They had shown the Trade Federation and the rest of the Galaxy what would happen if Beloria were attacked again. They had their revenge.
Two days later…
The 7th Interstellar Trade Fleet moved through the shattered remnants of the Neimoidian defense fleet. The Marksman had salvaged their own vessels and towed them out of the system whenever they could, as well as whatever ships were still repairable from the defense fleet itself.
“This is such a waste,” Captain Leekmot sighed, the old Kuati captain shaking his head at the wreckage around him. “Whoever authorized the strike on Beloria was a fool.”
“Captain, the forces on the ground are asking for assistance, it seems that while the damage to the civilian sector was minor, that the droids on the ground are unresponsive.”
“Patch us into their systems. We’ll coordinate the rebuilding efforts,” Leekmot ordered. “And get me a channel to the Council. There’s a conversation that needs to be had."
Doomsought
Well-known member
So that is at least 2 days of operations disrupted, which is a minor disaster on its own. Combine that with the loss of several factories and droid control facilities and you've got a pretty nasty blow to the planet.
Book 2: Chapter 12
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Book 2: Chapter 12
Date: June 17, 3017/ 25.06.7956CRC (Coruscant Reckoning Calendar)
Location: Coruscant
If she were returning for her usual duties, Siri would have had the ship she’d taken to Coruscant drop her off at one of the many docks used for Jedi Knights returning from missions. But this was not an ordinary day for her, and Siri walked up the stairs of the Temple the slow way, once again taking in the breathtaking view of where she’d spent her childhood.
She reached the top and turned around. The ‘surface’ of Coruscant was visible, the glorious buildings and plateaus around her shining as if to say goodbye for the last time. And as the local star began to set on the Temple, she turned to enter.
“Master,” Ferus Olin, her Padawan-Learner, smiled once he saw her. “I was worried that you wouldn’t make it in time.”
“I wanted to see the temple from a different perspective,” Siri replied, a smile gracing her face as she embraced Ferus. “I am glad that you passed the Trials. And I am even more grateful that I will be present for your ceremony.”
“I’m still not sure I’m ready,” he shook his head as the two began descending into the Temple and Coruscant depths. “There’s so much that I have yet to learn.”
“Which is the case for all of us,” Siri replied. “The Trials for Knighthood are not because you have learned everything there is to learn. Nor are they the final things that you should learn. Instead, they merely prove that you are capable of learning for yourself. That you are willing to develop more skills and that you have learned how to judge some things for yourself.”
“Running missions without you felt… Wrong,” Ferus sighed.
“It always does when you first separate from your Master,” Siri paused in her stride. “Something I have realized of late, that we do not truly discuss within the Order itself. Is that for all that we preach of separation, of detachment, we do not practice it as many think we do.”
Siri stopped speaking as she searched for the right words to say.
“When we are in our creches, we are as siblings to one another, each Clan a family, with those in charge of our Creches filling the parental roles needed for children. Then, as we mature and graduate into apprenticeships or the Agricorps, Explorer Corps, or many other avenues available to us as Jedi, that parental role is filled by those who step in and begin to guide us on our path to Knighthood. This is exemplified by the training bond that we possess with our masters throughout and after our apprenticeships.”
“And a padawan’s graduation to Knighthood is the equivalent of a coming of age ceremony as many cultures have,” Ferus connected the dots. “And part of the reason that some Apprentices complete their Trials later on in life is because of the Master and Apprentice not being willing to separate.”
“It is that in some cases,” Siri agreed. “And in others, it is simply because they are not ready to be on their own in the galaxy.”
The two stopped at the final turbolift and stared at each other for a few seconds.
“I must join the Council in the preparation chambers,” Siri gestured to a second turbolift. “You must go to the meditation room and settle your spirit. There is much unrest within you; they will not carry through the ceremony if you are uncertain.”
Ferus felt it when things changed around him. The darkness had seemed oppressive at first when he’d stepped into the meditation chamber. But after centering himself and opening himself up to the Force, he’d been at peace. He had released the stress and emotions of the missions he’d undertaken into the vastness of the force and had simply sat here, requiring neither food, water, nor sleep while this deep in the Force.
In the midst of this peace, the snap-hiss of the Council’s lightsabers lit the chambers. The various colors glowed and intermixed, revealing the vastness of the darkness that surrounded them.
“Has the Padawan completed his Trials?” a diminutive figure asked, his seriousness belied by the fact that he did not speak backward.
“Padawan Olin has surpassed the Trial of Skill,” Battlemaster Cin Drallig confirmed, his green blade ignited. “Not only throughout his missions but through recent combat as well.”
“He completed both his Trials of Courage and of Flesh by enduring torture alongside me on Serenno at the hands of the Trade Federation,” Siri stepped forward, her violet blade casting shadows onto her hooded face.
“He has faced the Trial of the Spirit,” Windu’s blade joined the others above the padawan’s head. “And has proven himself ready to advance.”
“And he completed the Trial of Insight on his last mission,” Plo Koon’s blade did the same as Windu’s. “There is no question whether he has completed the Trials.”
The rest of the Council’s blades ignited as they completed the tradition, Yoda’s green blade carefully removing the Padawan Braid with a sharp movement. “You are padawan no more, rise Knight Olin.”
After the ceremony, Siri stood in front of the Council Chamber doors, calm as she waited to be called in.
“Proud you must be,” Yoda stepped beside her. “Done well, your Padawan has.”
“He will be a great Jedi Knight,” Siri replied, a sad smile on her face as she looked at the Grandmaster of the Order.
“Convince you to change your path. I will not,” Yoda looked at the young woman. “Set, your course is.”
“Have you seen what is to come?” Siri raised an eyebrow.
“Clouded, the future is,” Yoda shook his head. “Proud of you, I am.”
“You’re not disappointed that I am leaving the Order?” Siri asked, a small tear struggling at the corner of her ear.
“For everyone, the path of the Jedi is not,” Yoda’s voice was filled with pride and sadness, like a parent seeing their child join the military or go to college. “Saddened, I am. But disappointed, I am not.”
With that last statement, the Council doors opened, and Siri stepped forward, ready to give her final account to them before she embarked on the next stage of her life.
Date: June 17, 3017/ 25.06.7956CRC (Coruscant Reckoning Calendar)
Location: Coruscant
If she were returning for her usual duties, Siri would have had the ship she’d taken to Coruscant drop her off at one of the many docks used for Jedi Knights returning from missions. But this was not an ordinary day for her, and Siri walked up the stairs of the Temple the slow way, once again taking in the breathtaking view of where she’d spent her childhood.
She reached the top and turned around. The ‘surface’ of Coruscant was visible, the glorious buildings and plateaus around her shining as if to say goodbye for the last time. And as the local star began to set on the Temple, she turned to enter.
“Master,” Ferus Olin, her Padawan-Learner, smiled once he saw her. “I was worried that you wouldn’t make it in time.”
“I wanted to see the temple from a different perspective,” Siri replied, a smile gracing her face as she embraced Ferus. “I am glad that you passed the Trials. And I am even more grateful that I will be present for your ceremony.”
“I’m still not sure I’m ready,” he shook his head as the two began descending into the Temple and Coruscant depths. “There’s so much that I have yet to learn.”
“Which is the case for all of us,” Siri replied. “The Trials for Knighthood are not because you have learned everything there is to learn. Nor are they the final things that you should learn. Instead, they merely prove that you are capable of learning for yourself. That you are willing to develop more skills and that you have learned how to judge some things for yourself.”
“Running missions without you felt… Wrong,” Ferus sighed.
“It always does when you first separate from your Master,” Siri paused in her stride. “Something I have realized of late, that we do not truly discuss within the Order itself. Is that for all that we preach of separation, of detachment, we do not practice it as many think we do.”
Siri stopped speaking as she searched for the right words to say.
“When we are in our creches, we are as siblings to one another, each Clan a family, with those in charge of our Creches filling the parental roles needed for children. Then, as we mature and graduate into apprenticeships or the Agricorps, Explorer Corps, or many other avenues available to us as Jedi, that parental role is filled by those who step in and begin to guide us on our path to Knighthood. This is exemplified by the training bond that we possess with our masters throughout and after our apprenticeships.”
“And a padawan’s graduation to Knighthood is the equivalent of a coming of age ceremony as many cultures have,” Ferus connected the dots. “And part of the reason that some Apprentices complete their Trials later on in life is because of the Master and Apprentice not being willing to separate.”
“It is that in some cases,” Siri agreed. “And in others, it is simply because they are not ready to be on their own in the galaxy.”
The two stopped at the final turbolift and stared at each other for a few seconds.
“I must join the Council in the preparation chambers,” Siri gestured to a second turbolift. “You must go to the meditation room and settle your spirit. There is much unrest within you; they will not carry through the ceremony if you are uncertain.”
Ferus felt it when things changed around him. The darkness had seemed oppressive at first when he’d stepped into the meditation chamber. But after centering himself and opening himself up to the Force, he’d been at peace. He had released the stress and emotions of the missions he’d undertaken into the vastness of the force and had simply sat here, requiring neither food, water, nor sleep while this deep in the Force.
In the midst of this peace, the snap-hiss of the Council’s lightsabers lit the chambers. The various colors glowed and intermixed, revealing the vastness of the darkness that surrounded them.
“Has the Padawan completed his Trials?” a diminutive figure asked, his seriousness belied by the fact that he did not speak backward.
“Padawan Olin has surpassed the Trial of Skill,” Battlemaster Cin Drallig confirmed, his green blade ignited. “Not only throughout his missions but through recent combat as well.”
“He completed both his Trials of Courage and of Flesh by enduring torture alongside me on Serenno at the hands of the Trade Federation,” Siri stepped forward, her violet blade casting shadows onto her hooded face.
“He has faced the Trial of the Spirit,” Windu’s blade joined the others above the padawan’s head. “And has proven himself ready to advance.”
“And he completed the Trial of Insight on his last mission,” Plo Koon’s blade did the same as Windu’s. “There is no question whether he has completed the Trials.”
The rest of the Council’s blades ignited as they completed the tradition, Yoda’s green blade carefully removing the Padawan Braid with a sharp movement. “You are padawan no more, rise Knight Olin.”
After the ceremony, Siri stood in front of the Council Chamber doors, calm as she waited to be called in.
“Proud you must be,” Yoda stepped beside her. “Done well, your Padawan has.”
“He will be a great Jedi Knight,” Siri replied, a sad smile on her face as she looked at the Grandmaster of the Order.
“Convince you to change your path. I will not,” Yoda looked at the young woman. “Set, your course is.”
“Have you seen what is to come?” Siri raised an eyebrow.
“Clouded, the future is,” Yoda shook his head. “Proud of you, I am.”
“You’re not disappointed that I am leaving the Order?” Siri asked, a small tear struggling at the corner of her ear.
“For everyone, the path of the Jedi is not,” Yoda’s voice was filled with pride and sadness, like a parent seeing their child join the military or go to college. “Saddened, I am. But disappointed, I am not.”
With that last statement, the Council doors opened, and Siri stepped forward, ready to give her final account to them before she embarked on the next stage of her life.
Book 2: Chapter 13
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Book 2: Chapter 13
Date: July 8, 3017 AD/08.07.7956 CRC (Coruscant Reckoning Calendar)
Location: Beloria, Independent System
“Get those captured ships moved into the moon's shadow,” Commodore Jewel ordered. “And get me a report of all of the repairs needed.”
“I’ll get in touch with Rendili and Incom, maybe Subpro as well,” Hull leaned over the command and control display. “See if we can persuade them to build some repair yards or shipyards here.”
“We’ll need them if we keep conducting operations like this one,” Victoria sighed. “Thankfully, we require everyone to wear Mithril, and we depressurize before combat. Otherwise, we’d have had more casualties than I’d have been comfortable with.”
“That’s always the risk when it comes to blooding green recruits,” He cracked his neck and stretched a bit. “Training can only do so much. Eventually, you have to put them into the crucible and hope that we did enough in training for it to go well.”
“Military life,” she rolled her eyes. “We chose this.”
“You could always retire,” Hull offered, his grin stretching across his face. “Start a family or something?”
“Me, retire?” She scoffed. “I’m in the void until I die, my friend.”
Then, a comms channel opened, and Kaylee Frye's voice and image appeared.
“Took you guys long enough!” she Cheerily greeted them. “We’ve been sorting through the salvage for hours now.”
“Well, unlike your hit, we had some unexpected guests arrive,” Victoria snarked. “Everyone good on your end?”
“Lost a few of Paige’s Marines,” Frye’s voice took on a somber tone. “But we got what we came for and a lot more besides that.”
“Alright,” Hull changed the subject. “Frye, I want you and Paige to take a shuttle over here. I’m going to collect Sheppard, and we’re going to debrief. The reward for more work, as always…” he trailed off.
“Is more work,” Jewel agreed. “I’ll go ahead and clear up the briefing room. Might as well get some use out of it.”
“Leviathan’s briefing room ASAP, aye, sir!” Kaylee saluted cheerfully before her hologram dropped off.
“If anyone ever kills her sense of joy,” Hull said after a minute.
“Then the entire unit will find whoever did it and murder them,” Jewel agreed. “She’s a treasure, and all of us would like to keep her that way.”
That said, Hull straightened up and headed for the briefing room. A song that the bridge crew could barely hear as he left on his lips.
“Take me out to the black, tell my ma I ain’t comin’ back. You can’t take the sky from me; you can’t take the sky from me.”
“Hmm,” Victoria muttered. “That’s catchy.”
Siri entered the Council chambers, Yoda walking alongside her before distancing himself and moving to his seat.
“Congratulations on your padawan completing the trials,” Plo Koon inclined his head towards her. “Now, while I am content to discuss further training tips for my own padawan,” he chuckled. “I believe that others on this council desire your full report.”
Siri took a deep breath and stilled herself within the force, centering herself and enhancing her memory before beginning. “Eight years ago, my padawan and I were instructed to make our way to Serenno to speak with Count Dooku and attempt to ascertain what his plans and goals were.
Unfortunately, at this time, the Trade Federation decided that Dooku had reneged on his family’s contractual obligations despite him having only taken over in recent years. So they invaded, intending to seize whatever they could to recoup their costs for protecting Serenno from pirates.
My padawan and I were on the planet at that time, and the leader of the Trade Federation forces took us prisoner…”
She trailed off as she immersed herself in the memory for a moment before dragging herself out of the past.
“I was tortured, and it was obvious that they intended to experiment on me. It was at that time that Dooku and the Mercenary company he had hired arrived with a fleet and a liberation force. They eliminated the ships controlling the droid brains, retook the palace complex and the system itself, and rescued me and my padawan.
The Count immediately saw that we were cared for medically, and Ferus and I were healed physically within a few months. Then, the Council ordered Ferus and me to expand on our mission parameters. We were now to keep an eye on Count Dooku as well as this new mercenary company that had seemingly come out of nowhere.
With this in mind, I charged Ferus with keeping an eye on Dooku while also requesting the Count to train him in lightsaber combat if he were willing to do so. Meanwhile, I joined a small group of Marksman as they searched for the Katana Fleet.”
It was at this point that Ki Adi Mundi interrupted.
“Did you never consider that such a thing might bring harm to the Republic?” the Master asked, his arms crossed as he frowned disapprovingly.
“I was asked to report, not to interfere on behalf of any faction,” Siri replied, calm in the face of this adversity. “That said, I did involve myself once we encountered a derelict with the remnants of a Dark Side force ghost onboard.”
Siri paused and grabbed a small datacube that she had in one of the utility pouches on her belt.
“The recording for the combat against the Force Ghost was provided to this Council as soon as possible. I believe that we have all reviewed the footage multiple times by now.”
“We have,” Windu spoke up. “You conducted yourself well in that engagement. Now, please finish your verbal report for those of us who have not had access to the monthly reports that you have submitted.”
–
–
The Council chambers were closed for a few hours as Siri finished her report. The eight years of missions, meetings, and everything else that had occurred were finally explained in person to the council for the first time.
And then, it was finished—Siri’s last audience before the Jedi High Council.
“With that, my report is completed,” Siri glanced around. “I will not attempt to sway this council to favor one side or the other. I agree with Master Kenobi’s opinion that to get involved in favor of either party will end in disaster for the Order. Now, I have waited long enough to do this.”
Bowing low, Siri moved to Yoda’s chair and unhooked her lightsaber, setting the handle to her weapon next to him.
“I have served the order my entire life,” She began, her hands clasped behind her back as she stood, confidence through her entire voice. “I will always treasure the time I have spent here, but I find there is more I want than the order can provide. I will continue to serve the Light side of the Force and will assist Master Yaddle with things that she may require. Should this council need me, they know where to contact me.”
Siri calmly turned around and began to walk out when something nudged the side of her robes.
Glancing down, she saw that her lightsaber had settled down back into the place where it had been before.
And glancing over her shoulder, she smiled at the outstretched hand of Grandmaster Yoda. A delighted light danced in his eyes as a mischievous smirk adorned his face.
“Expect great things, we do,” Yoda’s voice echoed behind her. “Need something reliable at your side, you will. Seen it, I have.”
And with that, the doors to the chamber shut behind her, and Siri began to head for the temple steps. A ship headed for Beloria waited for her. She was going home.
Date: July 8, 3017 AD/08.07.7956 CRC (Coruscant Reckoning Calendar)
Location: Beloria, Independent System
“Get those captured ships moved into the moon's shadow,” Commodore Jewel ordered. “And get me a report of all of the repairs needed.”
“I’ll get in touch with Rendili and Incom, maybe Subpro as well,” Hull leaned over the command and control display. “See if we can persuade them to build some repair yards or shipyards here.”
“We’ll need them if we keep conducting operations like this one,” Victoria sighed. “Thankfully, we require everyone to wear Mithril, and we depressurize before combat. Otherwise, we’d have had more casualties than I’d have been comfortable with.”
“That’s always the risk when it comes to blooding green recruits,” He cracked his neck and stretched a bit. “Training can only do so much. Eventually, you have to put them into the crucible and hope that we did enough in training for it to go well.”
“Military life,” she rolled her eyes. “We chose this.”
“You could always retire,” Hull offered, his grin stretching across his face. “Start a family or something?”
“Me, retire?” She scoffed. “I’m in the void until I die, my friend.”
Then, a comms channel opened, and Kaylee Frye's voice and image appeared.
“Took you guys long enough!” she Cheerily greeted them. “We’ve been sorting through the salvage for hours now.”
“Well, unlike your hit, we had some unexpected guests arrive,” Victoria snarked. “Everyone good on your end?”
“Lost a few of Paige’s Marines,” Frye’s voice took on a somber tone. “But we got what we came for and a lot more besides that.”
“Alright,” Hull changed the subject. “Frye, I want you and Paige to take a shuttle over here. I’m going to collect Sheppard, and we’re going to debrief. The reward for more work, as always…” he trailed off.
“Is more work,” Jewel agreed. “I’ll go ahead and clear up the briefing room. Might as well get some use out of it.”
“Leviathan’s briefing room ASAP, aye, sir!” Kaylee saluted cheerfully before her hologram dropped off.
“If anyone ever kills her sense of joy,” Hull said after a minute.
“Then the entire unit will find whoever did it and murder them,” Jewel agreed. “She’s a treasure, and all of us would like to keep her that way.”
That said, Hull straightened up and headed for the briefing room. A song that the bridge crew could barely hear as he left on his lips.
“Take me out to the black, tell my ma I ain’t comin’ back. You can’t take the sky from me; you can’t take the sky from me.”
“Hmm,” Victoria muttered. “That’s catchy.”
Siri entered the Council chambers, Yoda walking alongside her before distancing himself and moving to his seat.
“Congratulations on your padawan completing the trials,” Plo Koon inclined his head towards her. “Now, while I am content to discuss further training tips for my own padawan,” he chuckled. “I believe that others on this council desire your full report.”
Siri took a deep breath and stilled herself within the force, centering herself and enhancing her memory before beginning. “Eight years ago, my padawan and I were instructed to make our way to Serenno to speak with Count Dooku and attempt to ascertain what his plans and goals were.
Unfortunately, at this time, the Trade Federation decided that Dooku had reneged on his family’s contractual obligations despite him having only taken over in recent years. So they invaded, intending to seize whatever they could to recoup their costs for protecting Serenno from pirates.
My padawan and I were on the planet at that time, and the leader of the Trade Federation forces took us prisoner…”
She trailed off as she immersed herself in the memory for a moment before dragging herself out of the past.
“I was tortured, and it was obvious that they intended to experiment on me. It was at that time that Dooku and the Mercenary company he had hired arrived with a fleet and a liberation force. They eliminated the ships controlling the droid brains, retook the palace complex and the system itself, and rescued me and my padawan.
The Count immediately saw that we were cared for medically, and Ferus and I were healed physically within a few months. Then, the Council ordered Ferus and me to expand on our mission parameters. We were now to keep an eye on Count Dooku as well as this new mercenary company that had seemingly come out of nowhere.
With this in mind, I charged Ferus with keeping an eye on Dooku while also requesting the Count to train him in lightsaber combat if he were willing to do so. Meanwhile, I joined a small group of Marksman as they searched for the Katana Fleet.”
It was at this point that Ki Adi Mundi interrupted.
“Did you never consider that such a thing might bring harm to the Republic?” the Master asked, his arms crossed as he frowned disapprovingly.
“I was asked to report, not to interfere on behalf of any faction,” Siri replied, calm in the face of this adversity. “That said, I did involve myself once we encountered a derelict with the remnants of a Dark Side force ghost onboard.”
Siri paused and grabbed a small datacube that she had in one of the utility pouches on her belt.
“The recording for the combat against the Force Ghost was provided to this Council as soon as possible. I believe that we have all reviewed the footage multiple times by now.”
“We have,” Windu spoke up. “You conducted yourself well in that engagement. Now, please finish your verbal report for those of us who have not had access to the monthly reports that you have submitted.”
–
–
The Council chambers were closed for a few hours as Siri finished her report. The eight years of missions, meetings, and everything else that had occurred were finally explained in person to the council for the first time.
And then, it was finished—Siri’s last audience before the Jedi High Council.
“With that, my report is completed,” Siri glanced around. “I will not attempt to sway this council to favor one side or the other. I agree with Master Kenobi’s opinion that to get involved in favor of either party will end in disaster for the Order. Now, I have waited long enough to do this.”
Bowing low, Siri moved to Yoda’s chair and unhooked her lightsaber, setting the handle to her weapon next to him.
“I have served the order my entire life,” She began, her hands clasped behind her back as she stood, confidence through her entire voice. “I will always treasure the time I have spent here, but I find there is more I want than the order can provide. I will continue to serve the Light side of the Force and will assist Master Yaddle with things that she may require. Should this council need me, they know where to contact me.”
Siri calmly turned around and began to walk out when something nudged the side of her robes.
Glancing down, she saw that her lightsaber had settled down back into the place where it had been before.
And glancing over her shoulder, she smiled at the outstretched hand of Grandmaster Yoda. A delighted light danced in his eyes as a mischievous smirk adorned his face.
“Expect great things, we do,” Yoda’s voice echoed behind her. “Need something reliable at your side, you will. Seen it, I have.”
And with that, the doors to the chamber shut behind her, and Siri began to head for the temple steps. A ship headed for Beloria waited for her. She was going home.
Book 2: Chapter 14
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Book 2: Chapter 14
Location: Mandalore, Mandalore System, Mandalore Sector, Outer Rim Territories
Date: Unlisted
Two people stood on a stage, a small podium in front of each of them as they waited to be introduced.
One was dressed in robes appropriate for her station. A brilliant blue robe draped around her shoulders, and a headdress enshrouded her head. Meanwhile, the other was simply dressed in a pair of trousers and a fine jacket. A blaster pistol rested on his hip that obviously cost more than his clothes, and his graying hair signified his experience and age.
"Duchess Satine, Kal Skirata, I'm Vrim Skall, and I'll be the host for tonight's debate," the moderator greeted both of the current people vying for system leadership. "You will each have two minutes to explain your possible solutions to the questions asked."
Shuffling a flimsy, Skall spoke. "We'll begin with the subject that lies on most people's minds across the galaxy. What would you do regarding the tension between the secessionist Confederacy of Independent Systems and the Galactic Republic? We'll begin with Duchess Satine."
"The obvious solution here is for us to attempt to make peace with all sides," Satine spoke, a brilliant and charismatic smile on her face as she paused dramatically. "Both sides are striving to maintain peace as it is, and we may be the people to intercede on behalf of either side and resolve the prevalent tension. I would attempt to reach out and hold a peace summit here on Mandalore in the hopes that there will be the opportunity to achieve peace on a neutral territory."
"Duchess, you still have forty-five seconds"
"I'm quite finished, thank you," Satine replied.
"Kal, you have two minutes to respond."
"Duchess, while I respect your opinions here, they are not going to work," Kal said bluntly. "We all know the history; we know what happens once a group has decided that the Republic will not work for them anymore. The Republic relies on the raw resources and goods that the Outer Rim and the Confederacy supply to sustain itself. They must return those worlds to the fold soon, or they'll begin to face civil unrest. Every time the galaxy has marched to war, we have been threatened. We, the Mandalorians, even when allied with the Republic, were bombed to prevent us from becoming a threat. It is not enough to simply hope for peace."
"Thirty seconds remain."
"We must look at our past and honor it, but remember that we can look to the future. We are not slaves bound to one track. I am a soldier, a warrior. But I understand that there is more. We can't secure the future for our families, our Clans, if we simply stand by and allow the galaxy to pass us by."
"Time is up, Kal Skirata. Let's move on to the next question."
Vrim shuffled his flimsy to the next question and inhaled.
"The next topic concerns the economy and the restoration of the destroyed sections of Mandalore and the other worlds that were harmed in centuries past. How do you plan on improving the local economy? We'll start with you, Kal Skirata."
"I intend to lower taxes and begin working with MandalMotors and other Mandalorian-owned businesses to Continue the restoration of Mandalore. I also plan on establishing a defense force throughout our systems. We will need the industry to support the defense force, which will drive local business up and allow us to begin the journey to self-sufficiency again. With this, we will no longer need to spend the people's taxes on paying off up jumped pirates and traders like the Trade Federation. And it will put many of the Death Watch's greatest talking points to rest because we can take care of ourselves again. We are Mandalorians, and there is more to us than destruction. We are a family. It's time we started acting like it."
"And now your response, Duchess."
"I will continue as I have," Satine stated. "Under my administration and care, we have seen steady economic growth. Instead of a shock and awe approach, it is best that we take this slow and steady. After all, it is not as if we are suffering as a people."
–
–
Three months later…
"I cannot promise that things will be perfect," Skirata said, standing in front of the press, his armor on and a blaster at his hip. Our past is full of great and terrible things, just as everyone else's is. But we are Mandalorian. We honor the past, but we must not dwell on it. Instead, we must look to the future—one where we are a united people once again instead of a family scattered to the stars."
Location: Serenno, Confederacy of Independent Systems
Date: Date: November 1, 3017 AD/01.11.7956 CRC (Coruscant Reckoning Calendar)
"Well, I can say that I didn't expect that outcome," I looked at the holo terminal that displayed the current news from Mandalore. "I thought Duchess Satine had a firm lock on the system."
"It is interesting," Dooku agreed. "This Kal Skirata did not participate in the Mandalorian Civil War and seems to have a good head on his shoulders."
"He's a normal guy," I shrugged. "He saw something that he thought needed to be fixed and decided to step up and do something about it. The entire galaxy would be better off if people like him were elected to places of power."
"For a mercenary, he does appear to be a good man," Dooku said, looking at the display frozen on the man in his armor. "I expect that he'll be reaching out to the Confederacy soon enough."
"I doubt it," I shrugged. "His entire campaign was focused on building up the system using local means. They might reach out to sell things to us, but I suspect that we won't see them doing much in the rest of the galaxy for the next few years."
"Perhaps," Dooku stroked his beard. "I was surprised that he retained the Duchess as an advisor initially and then decided to send her to become their representative to the Senate."
"He's showing that he's gracious in victory," I sipped my glass of water. "And by keeping someone who has counter opinions, he'll be able to identify flaws in his own plans."
"Regardless," Dooku stood up. "This will upset the balance of the galaxy and may tip the Republic over the precipice toward war. I'm going to get in touch with Admiral Green. It may be time to move to readiness status Aubek."
"It's past time, sir," I stood to follow. "Where do you need the Marksman?"
"On Beloria," Dooku replied. "Your shipyards have begun construction, and while we have Sullust there if war breaks out, it would be better if we had more places to repair and resupply."
"We've got the factories from the Trade Federation pumping out spare parts for the military supplies we've been selling to the local planetary militias," I nodded. "And we've got lines for four designs of 'Mechs so far."
"What will it take to expand production?"
"People, time, and money," I shrugged. "We've got two of the three. However, trained personnel are hard to come by. Most of them are already working for other people. We can train our own, but that takes up the second resource. We're already working on getting more lines than the Archer, Toro, Phoenix Hawk, and Banshee lines we already have running. That's without getting into the aerospace fighters we're producing in coordination with Incom."
"Still, we must prepare more," Dooku sighed. "I had hoped that tensions would ease in my lifetime. But it seems that I will preside over the next season of war in the galaxy instead."
"At least the Republic will be as green as the Confederacy," I maintained pace with the Head of State."
"Green?"
"New, unblooded, have never seen conflict or fired a weapon beyond training," I explained.
"How would we resolve this?"
"There's only one way to get veterans," I said firmly. "And that's by putting them through a war."
"The current government would never allow us to go on the offensive against the Republic," Dooku shook his head. "We will have to find another way."
"There's no such thing as a clean war," I replied. "But there might be a way to get them behind starting one. Marcellus Clay has firmly pushed the Anti-Slavery front to the forefront of our union. And there is a nation that borders many of our worlds that continuously violates the laws that we have in place when they cross our borders."
"The Hutts," Dooku's eyes locked onto mine. "You mean to invade the Hutts."
"They should have been dealt with millennia ago," I replied. "They're pirates, little better than the old Barbary States of my homeworld."
"How were they dealt with on your homeworld?
"My nation went to war with them and forced them to stop under the threat of cannon fire. No more would we pay tribute to such."
"I would like a copy of this history if you have it," Dooku said after a moment of silence. "If it worked as you say, then I may be able to use it to persuade many to vote in favor of ridding the galaxy of this problem."
"I'd just urge some caution if we do go for that. The Hutts have been in control of that section of space for a long time. There's no telling what superweapons or fleets they may have hidden throughout the years."
"Get me that history," the Head of State strode to the hanger. "And meet me on Raxus. I will need your assistance with both Clay and the representatives. There is much to do if we are to make this work."
"The reward for good work is more work," I sighed as Dooku's vessel left the hangar. "I should have kept my mouth shut."
Location: Mandalore, Mandalore System, Mandalore Sector, Outer Rim Territories
Date: Unlisted
Two people stood on a stage, a small podium in front of each of them as they waited to be introduced.
One was dressed in robes appropriate for her station. A brilliant blue robe draped around her shoulders, and a headdress enshrouded her head. Meanwhile, the other was simply dressed in a pair of trousers and a fine jacket. A blaster pistol rested on his hip that obviously cost more than his clothes, and his graying hair signified his experience and age.
"Duchess Satine, Kal Skirata, I'm Vrim Skall, and I'll be the host for tonight's debate," the moderator greeted both of the current people vying for system leadership. "You will each have two minutes to explain your possible solutions to the questions asked."
Shuffling a flimsy, Skall spoke. "We'll begin with the subject that lies on most people's minds across the galaxy. What would you do regarding the tension between the secessionist Confederacy of Independent Systems and the Galactic Republic? We'll begin with Duchess Satine."
"The obvious solution here is for us to attempt to make peace with all sides," Satine spoke, a brilliant and charismatic smile on her face as she paused dramatically. "Both sides are striving to maintain peace as it is, and we may be the people to intercede on behalf of either side and resolve the prevalent tension. I would attempt to reach out and hold a peace summit here on Mandalore in the hopes that there will be the opportunity to achieve peace on a neutral territory."
"Duchess, you still have forty-five seconds"
"I'm quite finished, thank you," Satine replied.
"Kal, you have two minutes to respond."
"Duchess, while I respect your opinions here, they are not going to work," Kal said bluntly. "We all know the history; we know what happens once a group has decided that the Republic will not work for them anymore. The Republic relies on the raw resources and goods that the Outer Rim and the Confederacy supply to sustain itself. They must return those worlds to the fold soon, or they'll begin to face civil unrest. Every time the galaxy has marched to war, we have been threatened. We, the Mandalorians, even when allied with the Republic, were bombed to prevent us from becoming a threat. It is not enough to simply hope for peace."
"Thirty seconds remain."
"We must look at our past and honor it, but remember that we can look to the future. We are not slaves bound to one track. I am a soldier, a warrior. But I understand that there is more. We can't secure the future for our families, our Clans, if we simply stand by and allow the galaxy to pass us by."
"Time is up, Kal Skirata. Let's move on to the next question."
Vrim shuffled his flimsy to the next question and inhaled.
"The next topic concerns the economy and the restoration of the destroyed sections of Mandalore and the other worlds that were harmed in centuries past. How do you plan on improving the local economy? We'll start with you, Kal Skirata."
"I intend to lower taxes and begin working with MandalMotors and other Mandalorian-owned businesses to Continue the restoration of Mandalore. I also plan on establishing a defense force throughout our systems. We will need the industry to support the defense force, which will drive local business up and allow us to begin the journey to self-sufficiency again. With this, we will no longer need to spend the people's taxes on paying off up jumped pirates and traders like the Trade Federation. And it will put many of the Death Watch's greatest talking points to rest because we can take care of ourselves again. We are Mandalorians, and there is more to us than destruction. We are a family. It's time we started acting like it."
"And now your response, Duchess."
"I will continue as I have," Satine stated. "Under my administration and care, we have seen steady economic growth. Instead of a shock and awe approach, it is best that we take this slow and steady. After all, it is not as if we are suffering as a people."
–
–
Three months later…
"I cannot promise that things will be perfect," Skirata said, standing in front of the press, his armor on and a blaster at his hip. Our past is full of great and terrible things, just as everyone else's is. But we are Mandalorian. We honor the past, but we must not dwell on it. Instead, we must look to the future—one where we are a united people once again instead of a family scattered to the stars."
Location: Serenno, Confederacy of Independent Systems
Date: Date: November 1, 3017 AD/01.11.7956 CRC (Coruscant Reckoning Calendar)
"Well, I can say that I didn't expect that outcome," I looked at the holo terminal that displayed the current news from Mandalore. "I thought Duchess Satine had a firm lock on the system."
"It is interesting," Dooku agreed. "This Kal Skirata did not participate in the Mandalorian Civil War and seems to have a good head on his shoulders."
"He's a normal guy," I shrugged. "He saw something that he thought needed to be fixed and decided to step up and do something about it. The entire galaxy would be better off if people like him were elected to places of power."
"For a mercenary, he does appear to be a good man," Dooku said, looking at the display frozen on the man in his armor. "I expect that he'll be reaching out to the Confederacy soon enough."
"I doubt it," I shrugged. "His entire campaign was focused on building up the system using local means. They might reach out to sell things to us, but I suspect that we won't see them doing much in the rest of the galaxy for the next few years."
"Perhaps," Dooku stroked his beard. "I was surprised that he retained the Duchess as an advisor initially and then decided to send her to become their representative to the Senate."
"He's showing that he's gracious in victory," I sipped my glass of water. "And by keeping someone who has counter opinions, he'll be able to identify flaws in his own plans."
"Regardless," Dooku stood up. "This will upset the balance of the galaxy and may tip the Republic over the precipice toward war. I'm going to get in touch with Admiral Green. It may be time to move to readiness status Aubek."
"It's past time, sir," I stood to follow. "Where do you need the Marksman?"
"On Beloria," Dooku replied. "Your shipyards have begun construction, and while we have Sullust there if war breaks out, it would be better if we had more places to repair and resupply."
"We've got the factories from the Trade Federation pumping out spare parts for the military supplies we've been selling to the local planetary militias," I nodded. "And we've got lines for four designs of 'Mechs so far."
"What will it take to expand production?"
"People, time, and money," I shrugged. "We've got two of the three. However, trained personnel are hard to come by. Most of them are already working for other people. We can train our own, but that takes up the second resource. We're already working on getting more lines than the Archer, Toro, Phoenix Hawk, and Banshee lines we already have running. That's without getting into the aerospace fighters we're producing in coordination with Incom."
"Still, we must prepare more," Dooku sighed. "I had hoped that tensions would ease in my lifetime. But it seems that I will preside over the next season of war in the galaxy instead."
"At least the Republic will be as green as the Confederacy," I maintained pace with the Head of State."
"Green?"
"New, unblooded, have never seen conflict or fired a weapon beyond training," I explained.
"How would we resolve this?"
"There's only one way to get veterans," I said firmly. "And that's by putting them through a war."
"The current government would never allow us to go on the offensive against the Republic," Dooku shook his head. "We will have to find another way."
"There's no such thing as a clean war," I replied. "But there might be a way to get them behind starting one. Marcellus Clay has firmly pushed the Anti-Slavery front to the forefront of our union. And there is a nation that borders many of our worlds that continuously violates the laws that we have in place when they cross our borders."
"The Hutts," Dooku's eyes locked onto mine. "You mean to invade the Hutts."
"They should have been dealt with millennia ago," I replied. "They're pirates, little better than the old Barbary States of my homeworld."
"How were they dealt with on your homeworld?
"My nation went to war with them and forced them to stop under the threat of cannon fire. No more would we pay tribute to such."
"I would like a copy of this history if you have it," Dooku said after a moment of silence. "If it worked as you say, then I may be able to use it to persuade many to vote in favor of ridding the galaxy of this problem."
"I'd just urge some caution if we do go for that. The Hutts have been in control of that section of space for a long time. There's no telling what superweapons or fleets they may have hidden throughout the years."
"Get me that history," the Head of State strode to the hanger. "And meet me on Raxus. I will need your assistance with both Clay and the representatives. There is much to do if we are to make this work."
"The reward for good work is more work," I sighed as Dooku's vessel left the hangar. "I should have kept my mouth shut."
Last edited:
Book 2: Chapter 15
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Book 2: Chapter 15
Location: Raxus Secundus, Confederacy of Independent Systems Capital building
Date: November 21, 3017 AD/27.11.7956 CRC (Coruscant Reckoning Calendar)
“We reviewed the history that you gave me,” Dooku looked at me and the advisors that he had collected over the last few years. “And while it may have worked on the nations and city-states of your world when it was primitive, we are not convinced that it will necessarily work here.”
Dooku looked at the historical advisor and gestured for him to speak.
“While such a stance and approach would work on the Zyggerians and other short-lived species, it’s not the best approach with the Hutts,” the man gulped as he noticed every eye was on him. “They live long enough that the oldest among them was alive before the Ruusan Reformation. There is little doubt among myself and other historians and analysts that they have potentially massive fleets and weapons hidden away in case of an invasion.”
“So what’s the plan then?” I asked. “I’m contracted for y’all, and as long as you’ve got a decent plan, I’ll follow it.”
“If we want to collapse and bring down the Hutts then we’re going to have to do two things,” the young man hit his stride. “The first bit is economic warfare. We’re going to have to win monetarily. We stonewall all trade goods that are intended to go through Hutt Space, we deny them access to all of the Amenities that they want. The Hutts live for their own pleasure and denying them the ability to get what they want and desire will mean that they’ll start trying to find ways to change that.”
He paused and sent out a file to the datapads in the area before making a hologram of the galaxy appear.
“The next step is where you, and our military, come in,” he continued. “One of the big things we were able to pull from your world’s history was the fact that everyone knew where the pirates docked and made port at. Well, the Hutts ensure that no truly illegal shipping goes through their world’s ports. They trade with everyone, so they need to make sure that their goods look clean on the Republic’s and the CIS’s side. So, all of the pirate and slaver entities use ports that are off the standard hyperlanes to dock and conduct the transfer over to more ‘legal’ ships. Smugglers, people that lurk in the gray areas of the law without actually crossing over it. Your job is to hit every single one of those ports. Eradicate them from the galaxy, make sure that there’s not a single safe port of call for any of them. The pirates won’t have anywhere left to run, and the Hutts now have to pursue other methods to get what they want. That’s the first and second steps.”
“And the rest of it?” I asked, raising my eyebrow as I settled in and crossed my arms.
“The Confederacy Intelligence Agency has been getting in touch with a few of the Hutts that would be more amenable to our goals for that region of space. We would provide funding and weaponry to them in order to get them into seats of power.”
“Nope,” I shook my head. “Setting up dictators or trying to force people to be favorable doesn’t work. It always comes back to bite the person who set them up in the ass. Either you conquer a place, or you don’t. But half-assing it only leads to further problems down the road when you least need said problems.”
“It’s our most reliable option at this point,” the now identified spook argued, his eyes searching for support.
“I like the first two steps of your tentative plan,” I uncrossed my arms. “What I don’t like is the thought of us starting down the path of the Confederacy deciding to form government organizations that act without oversight doing whatever they please as long as it ‘benefits’ the Confederacy.”
I glared at the spook, making him shrink back.
“Beyond that, even if everything goes exactly as you plan it, do you know what’s going to happen when we inevitably end up in a war with another power? Those puppets that you put in place will decide that while we’re distracted is the perfect time to stab us in the back.”
“We should take a recess,” a junior secretary finally spoke up, breaking the pall of silence that had built up after my response. “It is clear that this subject is heavily charged with emotion. We are all agreed on the first two steps, and we can work to begin their implementation. We should table the other discussion until a later date when both sides are more prepared to argue for their case.”
“It won’t make a difference,” I replied. “Either we go with that option, or we don’t. But we’d best make a decision.”
I stood and walked out of the room. I needed to clear my head. All of this sort of bullshit was reminding me of the mistakes the US had made during the Cold War; and I wasn’t so sure that I would be able to stop this fledgling nation from making the same mistakes. But I’d at least do my best to try.
Location: Naboo, Sheev Palpatine’s private residence
Date: 27.11.7956 CRC (Coruscant Reckoning Calendar)
“We have received intelligence reports from the agents you embedded within the Confederacy,” Mas Amedda reported to the chancellor as he reclined on a small chair in the sunlight of the local star. “The Confederacy seems intent on silencing all piracy operations in their space, and are planning to go after the ones that directly trade with the Hutts.”
“Well then, we should make our more… Lucrative trading partners aware of the situation,” Sheev replied. “And ensure that some of our assets from Kuat are lost to us. The longer the Confederacy has to deal with these nuisances, the more time we will be granted for us to consolidate power in the Senate.”
“You will have to deal with threats to your hold on the Chancellor’s seat,” Amedda reminded him . “Your own protege Senator Amidala has been a thorn in your proposals.”
“I will deal with her,” Sheev waved his hand. “Her death will be the spark that gives birth to the beginning of the end for the Republic.”
Location: Raxus Secundus, Confederacy of Independent Systems Capital building
Date: November 21, 3017 AD/27.11.7956 CRC (Coruscant Reckoning Calendar)
“We reviewed the history that you gave me,” Dooku looked at me and the advisors that he had collected over the last few years. “And while it may have worked on the nations and city-states of your world when it was primitive, we are not convinced that it will necessarily work here.”
Dooku looked at the historical advisor and gestured for him to speak.
“While such a stance and approach would work on the Zyggerians and other short-lived species, it’s not the best approach with the Hutts,” the man gulped as he noticed every eye was on him. “They live long enough that the oldest among them was alive before the Ruusan Reformation. There is little doubt among myself and other historians and analysts that they have potentially massive fleets and weapons hidden away in case of an invasion.”
“So what’s the plan then?” I asked. “I’m contracted for y’all, and as long as you’ve got a decent plan, I’ll follow it.”
“If we want to collapse and bring down the Hutts then we’re going to have to do two things,” the young man hit his stride. “The first bit is economic warfare. We’re going to have to win monetarily. We stonewall all trade goods that are intended to go through Hutt Space, we deny them access to all of the Amenities that they want. The Hutts live for their own pleasure and denying them the ability to get what they want and desire will mean that they’ll start trying to find ways to change that.”
He paused and sent out a file to the datapads in the area before making a hologram of the galaxy appear.
“The next step is where you, and our military, come in,” he continued. “One of the big things we were able to pull from your world’s history was the fact that everyone knew where the pirates docked and made port at. Well, the Hutts ensure that no truly illegal shipping goes through their world’s ports. They trade with everyone, so they need to make sure that their goods look clean on the Republic’s and the CIS’s side. So, all of the pirate and slaver entities use ports that are off the standard hyperlanes to dock and conduct the transfer over to more ‘legal’ ships. Smugglers, people that lurk in the gray areas of the law without actually crossing over it. Your job is to hit every single one of those ports. Eradicate them from the galaxy, make sure that there’s not a single safe port of call for any of them. The pirates won’t have anywhere left to run, and the Hutts now have to pursue other methods to get what they want. That’s the first and second steps.”
“And the rest of it?” I asked, raising my eyebrow as I settled in and crossed my arms.
“The Confederacy Intelligence Agency has been getting in touch with a few of the Hutts that would be more amenable to our goals for that region of space. We would provide funding and weaponry to them in order to get them into seats of power.”
“Nope,” I shook my head. “Setting up dictators or trying to force people to be favorable doesn’t work. It always comes back to bite the person who set them up in the ass. Either you conquer a place, or you don’t. But half-assing it only leads to further problems down the road when you least need said problems.”
“It’s our most reliable option at this point,” the now identified spook argued, his eyes searching for support.
“I like the first two steps of your tentative plan,” I uncrossed my arms. “What I don’t like is the thought of us starting down the path of the Confederacy deciding to form government organizations that act without oversight doing whatever they please as long as it ‘benefits’ the Confederacy.”
I glared at the spook, making him shrink back.
“Beyond that, even if everything goes exactly as you plan it, do you know what’s going to happen when we inevitably end up in a war with another power? Those puppets that you put in place will decide that while we’re distracted is the perfect time to stab us in the back.”
“We should take a recess,” a junior secretary finally spoke up, breaking the pall of silence that had built up after my response. “It is clear that this subject is heavily charged with emotion. We are all agreed on the first two steps, and we can work to begin their implementation. We should table the other discussion until a later date when both sides are more prepared to argue for their case.”
“It won’t make a difference,” I replied. “Either we go with that option, or we don’t. But we’d best make a decision.”
I stood and walked out of the room. I needed to clear my head. All of this sort of bullshit was reminding me of the mistakes the US had made during the Cold War; and I wasn’t so sure that I would be able to stop this fledgling nation from making the same mistakes. But I’d at least do my best to try.
Location: Naboo, Sheev Palpatine’s private residence
Date: 27.11.7956 CRC (Coruscant Reckoning Calendar)
“We have received intelligence reports from the agents you embedded within the Confederacy,” Mas Amedda reported to the chancellor as he reclined on a small chair in the sunlight of the local star. “The Confederacy seems intent on silencing all piracy operations in their space, and are planning to go after the ones that directly trade with the Hutts.”
“Well then, we should make our more… Lucrative trading partners aware of the situation,” Sheev replied. “And ensure that some of our assets from Kuat are lost to us. The longer the Confederacy has to deal with these nuisances, the more time we will be granted for us to consolidate power in the Senate.”
“You will have to deal with threats to your hold on the Chancellor’s seat,” Amedda reminded him . “Your own protege Senator Amidala has been a thorn in your proposals.”
“I will deal with her,” Sheev waved his hand. “Her death will be the spark that gives birth to the beginning of the end for the Republic.”