War on the Horizon
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Book 2: Chapter 16
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Book 2: Chapter 16
Date: 05.12.7956 CRC (Coruscant Reckoning Calendar)
Location: Kamino, Hidden system
Inside of a base sitting on top of the massive ocean world that was Kamino was a room. This room was full of sand, trees, and other things to simulate an attempt to claim a beach. It was there, in this room, that a battle was being undertaken.
CC-20783 reacted to noise, turning and firing his blaster at the training droid that had moved out of cover.
"Kriff," CC-20783 swore as he realized he'd overexposed himself, shifting back into cover just as one of the gun emplacements began to fire on the fallen tree he'd hidden himself behind.
A hand then reached out and threw him out of a stun grenade's radius.
"Thanks," CA-20783 dragged himself back up and dusted off the earthen colored plastoid armor. "Is Spaz still down?"
"Yeah, boss," CC-1859 (Steady) replied. "She's down for the exercise"
"We're going to lose if we stay here," CA-20783 checked the status of his blaster. "Steady, you still got those heavy munitions we stole earlier?"
"Ain't used 'em yet," Steady moved the launcher and bandolier of grenades into view. "What're you thinking?"
"As long as they have those mounted guns, we'll always be on the back foot. But we have a grenade launcher."
"Want me to arc it over their cover?" Steady asked.
"If Spaz isn't able to provide overwatch, then we're going to have to," CA-20783 shrugged. "I'll carry Spaz and let Sparks know what the plan is."
"If this doesn't work, then Sparks is going to kill us."
"He'll have to catch me first."
"Your funeral, boss," Steady shrugged, helping sling Spaz over CA-20783's shoulder. "Give me a few minutes, I'll deal with the turrets, you just get clear."
Hefting the grenade launcher, Steady peeked out of cover and propped his barrel on a nearby tree limb. Firing once, he noted where it landed and began adjusting his shots, walking them into the open-topped heavy-blaster nest.
"Sparks, this is Gamma Squad, we're pinned down and short three men, we're pulling back to Rally Point Delta!"
"You stay where you're at, Gambler!" their CO screamed back. "I have people coming in to relieve you. But I need that line held."
As Gambler went to respond, his internal comms simply erupted with static.
"Steady, we're being jammed!" Gambler yelled to the heavy weapons expert.
Steady didn't respond, and Gambler turned to see an armored vehicle had pulled up to their position.
The last thing that Gambler saw was a stun grenade being thrown at his feet.
"Anyone care to explain to me what went wrong?" CA-102 (Planner) asked, his armored form stalking the classroom that was used for debriefing the older clones.
"My unit was pinned down and instead of doing something, we remained where we were, giving the momentum to the enemy," Sparks replied, answering for his entire platoon. "I should have had my units push forward into the forest, we could have lost them and regrouped as needed."
"That's one option you had," Planner replied, his close cropped blond hair shimmering in the artificial light. "But you also forgot that you had other assets that were assigned to you for this exercise. We don't often grant the use of artillery in exercises because we want you to train as if you don't have it. But you did indeed have access to it for this exercise. In the future, make sure that you use all of the assets that you're granted access to. Now, you're all dismissed, get a meal in you and make sure you clean your gear. You won't have access to terrain data on the next exercise, so pick your armor paint appropriately."
"Sorry guys," Sparks sagged in his chair as the older model Aubek-Series clone left the room. "I really screwed up on that one."
"It is what it is," Steady shrugged. The C-Series' massive shoulders moving up and down. "Not like the rest of us would have done any better."
"Alright," Sparks sighed. "We won't have terrain data on the next training session, so what do we go with for paint?"
"So far we've done pretty much everything," Gambler shrugged. "A dull brown might work best if we end up in another desert."
The entire platoon shuddered at the thought of sand getting inside of the plastoid armor.
"Yeah," Spaz agreed. "And we need to go over seals. I'm pretty sure I broke the environmental seal when I got thrown into that tree."
"Lot's of work to do," Sparks began tapping at a datapad. "Alright, squad leaders, you have your orders. See to them and meet me for debrief in three hours. We'll go over everything in depth then."
"As you can see, going with multiple clone variants has been for the best," Specialist Mon Kiria inclined his neck to the cloaked figure. "With the varied genetic material from multiple origins, we are able to do much more. The larger phenotype is not lesser in intelligence, but being from larger stock means that we are able to boost their musculature."
"And the reason for the smaller clones," the figure gestured towards Spaz, the female being nearly half a meter smaller than the usual "Aubek" pattern clones.
"They make for better long range snipers and scouts," the Kaminoan began walking. "While the costs have increased because of this, we are able to test a wider range of genetic variety and tune things to for better performance in the field. And with the weapons and imports you have provided us with, we are able to field a better training experience as well."
"What is the estimate on the completion of the first order?"
"Given we were restricted to Aubek-pattern clones, we were able to produce over the amount requested for the original order. And we are now using them as supplemental trainers for the later generations."
"Good," the figure replied. "I estimate that within five years they will be called upon to defend the Republic."
"Of course, Master Syfo-Dyas," Kiria replied. "Our product will be ready when the call comes."
The Jedi Master stalked away, heading for the landing pad where his small freighter waited.
An astromech droid wheeled down the ramp and whistled at the Jedi.
"I know R8, but we still have much to do," Dyas sighed. "Chart us a course to Coruscant, I have someone to contact."
"Master Syfo-Dyas!" A voice greeted him as he plugged in the codes to directly transmit to his ally. "I assume things are as planned?"
"Indeed they are, Sheev," the Jedi replied. "The Kaminoans have things well in hand. I believe that it is time to focus on the other aspects of preparations."
"Right you are," Palpatine replied. "Unfortunately, you assistance is no longer needed. I will handle the rest of this… Personally."
With that last word, the Force screamed at Dyas to move and protect himself. But it was too late. An explosion from the core consumed the ship as it leapt into hyperdrive. Scattering the ship into nothing but debris across the light years.
And back on Coruscant, an old man grinned underneath his hooded cloak. It was all starting to come together. Soon, he would have unlimited power!
Date: 05.12.7956 CRC (Coruscant Reckoning Calendar)
Location: Kamino, Hidden system
Inside of a base sitting on top of the massive ocean world that was Kamino was a room. This room was full of sand, trees, and other things to simulate an attempt to claim a beach. It was there, in this room, that a battle was being undertaken.
CC-20783 reacted to noise, turning and firing his blaster at the training droid that had moved out of cover.
"Kriff," CC-20783 swore as he realized he'd overexposed himself, shifting back into cover just as one of the gun emplacements began to fire on the fallen tree he'd hidden himself behind.
A hand then reached out and threw him out of a stun grenade's radius.
"Thanks," CA-20783 dragged himself back up and dusted off the earthen colored plastoid armor. "Is Spaz still down?"
"Yeah, boss," CC-1859 (Steady) replied. "She's down for the exercise"
"We're going to lose if we stay here," CA-20783 checked the status of his blaster. "Steady, you still got those heavy munitions we stole earlier?"
"Ain't used 'em yet," Steady moved the launcher and bandolier of grenades into view. "What're you thinking?"
"As long as they have those mounted guns, we'll always be on the back foot. But we have a grenade launcher."
"Want me to arc it over their cover?" Steady asked.
"If Spaz isn't able to provide overwatch, then we're going to have to," CA-20783 shrugged. "I'll carry Spaz and let Sparks know what the plan is."
"If this doesn't work, then Sparks is going to kill us."
"He'll have to catch me first."
"Your funeral, boss," Steady shrugged, helping sling Spaz over CA-20783's shoulder. "Give me a few minutes, I'll deal with the turrets, you just get clear."
Hefting the grenade launcher, Steady peeked out of cover and propped his barrel on a nearby tree limb. Firing once, he noted where it landed and began adjusting his shots, walking them into the open-topped heavy-blaster nest.
"Sparks, this is Gamma Squad, we're pinned down and short three men, we're pulling back to Rally Point Delta!"
"You stay where you're at, Gambler!" their CO screamed back. "I have people coming in to relieve you. But I need that line held."
As Gambler went to respond, his internal comms simply erupted with static.
"Steady, we're being jammed!" Gambler yelled to the heavy weapons expert.
Steady didn't respond, and Gambler turned to see an armored vehicle had pulled up to their position.
The last thing that Gambler saw was a stun grenade being thrown at his feet.
"Anyone care to explain to me what went wrong?" CA-102 (Planner) asked, his armored form stalking the classroom that was used for debriefing the older clones.
"My unit was pinned down and instead of doing something, we remained where we were, giving the momentum to the enemy," Sparks replied, answering for his entire platoon. "I should have had my units push forward into the forest, we could have lost them and regrouped as needed."
"That's one option you had," Planner replied, his close cropped blond hair shimmering in the artificial light. "But you also forgot that you had other assets that were assigned to you for this exercise. We don't often grant the use of artillery in exercises because we want you to train as if you don't have it. But you did indeed have access to it for this exercise. In the future, make sure that you use all of the assets that you're granted access to. Now, you're all dismissed, get a meal in you and make sure you clean your gear. You won't have access to terrain data on the next exercise, so pick your armor paint appropriately."
"Sorry guys," Sparks sagged in his chair as the older model Aubek-Series clone left the room. "I really screwed up on that one."
"It is what it is," Steady shrugged. The C-Series' massive shoulders moving up and down. "Not like the rest of us would have done any better."
"Alright," Sparks sighed. "We won't have terrain data on the next training session, so what do we go with for paint?"
"So far we've done pretty much everything," Gambler shrugged. "A dull brown might work best if we end up in another desert."
The entire platoon shuddered at the thought of sand getting inside of the plastoid armor.
"Yeah," Spaz agreed. "And we need to go over seals. I'm pretty sure I broke the environmental seal when I got thrown into that tree."
"Lot's of work to do," Sparks began tapping at a datapad. "Alright, squad leaders, you have your orders. See to them and meet me for debrief in three hours. We'll go over everything in depth then."
"As you can see, going with multiple clone variants has been for the best," Specialist Mon Kiria inclined his neck to the cloaked figure. "With the varied genetic material from multiple origins, we are able to do much more. The larger phenotype is not lesser in intelligence, but being from larger stock means that we are able to boost their musculature."
"And the reason for the smaller clones," the figure gestured towards Spaz, the female being nearly half a meter smaller than the usual "Aubek" pattern clones.
"They make for better long range snipers and scouts," the Kaminoan began walking. "While the costs have increased because of this, we are able to test a wider range of genetic variety and tune things to for better performance in the field. And with the weapons and imports you have provided us with, we are able to field a better training experience as well."
"What is the estimate on the completion of the first order?"
"Given we were restricted to Aubek-pattern clones, we were able to produce over the amount requested for the original order. And we are now using them as supplemental trainers for the later generations."
"Good," the figure replied. "I estimate that within five years they will be called upon to defend the Republic."
"Of course, Master Syfo-Dyas," Kiria replied. "Our product will be ready when the call comes."
The Jedi Master stalked away, heading for the landing pad where his small freighter waited.
An astromech droid wheeled down the ramp and whistled at the Jedi.
"I know R8, but we still have much to do," Dyas sighed. "Chart us a course to Coruscant, I have someone to contact."
"Master Syfo-Dyas!" A voice greeted him as he plugged in the codes to directly transmit to his ally. "I assume things are as planned?"
"Indeed they are, Sheev," the Jedi replied. "The Kaminoans have things well in hand. I believe that it is time to focus on the other aspects of preparations."
"Right you are," Palpatine replied. "Unfortunately, you assistance is no longer needed. I will handle the rest of this… Personally."
With that last word, the Force screamed at Dyas to move and protect himself. But it was too late. An explosion from the core consumed the ship as it leapt into hyperdrive. Scattering the ship into nothing but debris across the light years.
And back on Coruscant, an old man grinned underneath his hooded cloak. It was all starting to come together. Soon, he would have unlimited power!
Last edited:
Republic Identification Chart
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Republic Identification Chart
-Subsection
–Clones
The Clones within the Grand Army of the Republic (referred to as GAR) are mainly referred to as their ranks as well as the nicknames that they have given themselves in place of their alphanumeric designations. But for records keeping purposes, we have the designations listed below.
CA(Aubek)-Series clones are human male in appearance, around 1.9 meters tall, and are usually blond haired with blue or brown eyes. These are the commanders, commandos, and most common clones to be found among the GAR.
CB-Series Clones were discontinued aside from a few minor batches. Units with this designation are typically used in supporting and logistical roles.
CC-Series Clones are large, 2.5 meters tall and are bulky. They are used in support roles involving heavy weapons and material.
CD-CL-Series Clones were failed batches. You will not encounter them.
CM-Series Clones are short female humans approximately 1.25 meters in height. They are short, but are extremely versatile with superior eyesight and reflexes. They are typically used in scouting, sniping, and piloting roles.
CN-CS Series Clones are offsets of the Aubek-Series that were specifically altered for space combat and surface-warfare combat. Typically used for assault ships and piloting Low Altitutde Assault Transports.
CR-CT series Clones are REDACTED
File ends here…..
-Subsection
–Clones
The Clones within the Grand Army of the Republic (referred to as GAR) are mainly referred to as their ranks as well as the nicknames that they have given themselves in place of their alphanumeric designations. But for records keeping purposes, we have the designations listed below.
CA(Aubek)-Series clones are human male in appearance, around 1.9 meters tall, and are usually blond haired with blue or brown eyes. These are the commanders, commandos, and most common clones to be found among the GAR.
CB-Series Clones were discontinued aside from a few minor batches. Units with this designation are typically used in supporting and logistical roles.
CC-Series Clones are large, 2.5 meters tall and are bulky. They are used in support roles involving heavy weapons and material.
CD-CL-Series Clones were failed batches. You will not encounter them.
CM-Series Clones are short female humans approximately 1.25 meters in height. They are short, but are extremely versatile with superior eyesight and reflexes. They are typically used in scouting, sniping, and piloting roles.
CN-CS Series Clones are offsets of the Aubek-Series that were specifically altered for space combat and surface-warfare combat. Typically used for assault ships and piloting Low Altitutde Assault Transports.
CR-CT series Clones are REDACTED
File ends here…..
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
No update this week.
I've had a bit of a brain fog all this week. I also had my rifle explode on me at the range on Saturday. I'm out about $1000 because of it, expect a return to form next week.
I've had a bit of a brain fog all this week. I also had my rifle explode on me at the range on Saturday. I'm out about $1000 because of it, expect a return to form next week.
oh snap! You ok from the rifle explosion?
I think,that you could buy cheap rifle from,let say,Vietnam - but would it be safe?
Book 2: Chapter 17
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Book 2: Chapter 17
Sheppard stood up and turned towards the elevator doors as they slid open, revealing his CO.
The look on his face was exhaustion, and there were apparent bags and stress lines across his face.
“Whelp, that was productive,” he groaned and collapsed into one of the couches.
“Good news?” Sheppard asked, taking a seat across from him.
“Kinda,” Mark leaned his head against the back of the sofa and closed his eyes. “It’s all jacked up politically in the meetings.”
“Even though there’s not a lot of red tape, politics and bureaucrats will still get their way,” Sheppard agreed. “So, what’s in the future for us?”
“We’re being sidelined on this one,” He exhaled and seemingly forced his body to relax. “Admiral Landkai had a lot of good points, and the CIS does need to learn to operate on their own.”
“He’s one of the few officers with field experience,” Sheppard agreed. “And it’s not his first operation against pirates. This will be a good learning experience for their marines, intel, and ground officers.”
“That part, we’re not sidelined on,” Mark sat up straight and opened his eyes, rubbing sleepiness from them. “They want one of our teams to act as SF.”
“None of us are SF-rated,” Sheppard scoffed, nearly choking on his drink. “Aside from Dunham and one or two of his guys. But even then, his CSV had so much black ink when we hired him that we’ll never know.”
“We still have a higher standard of training expected and better gear than most of their guys. We’re not the tip of the spear here. We’re just being asked to support their own SF teams,” Mark tossed a datapad across the room onto the couch next to Sheppard. “But we both know that doesn’t mean jack shit.”
“It just means that Packer’s going to cuss both of us out later,” Sheppard picked up the datapad and began going through the notes that Hull had taken. “You good?”
“I’m just tired,” Hull shifted and laid down lengthwise on the couch, bringing his hat down over his eyes. “I’m just gonna lay here and take a nap.”
“You do that,” Sheppard began highlighting sections of the notes for revisit later. “I’ll just keep going through this.”
But Hull was already asleep. The deep breaths and lack of response were evidence of that.
“Now, let’s see exactly what’s to be expected of us in the future,” The Marksman XO stood up and headed for a nearby office.
“The history books never really talk about this part of things,” Satele complained to her new battle buddy as they sat at their bunks, bored out of their minds.
“The waiting?” Frank asked.
“Yeah,” Satele sighed. “No one ever talks about it.”
“That’s because it’s boring,” Frank laughed. “Besides, I prefer this to being shot at. I’ve spent enough time seeing friends get shredded by ‘Mechs and Tanks to ever want to do it again.”
“Then why stay in?” Satele asked. “You’ve been doing this for almost as long as I’ve been alive. Why not retire?”
“I find that I’m a bit too old to change my ways,” the graybeard shrugged, cleaning out from his fingernails with a large knife. “I joined the AFFS back in ‘95, did my time as jump infantry, then realized once I got out that the pay sucked, but that I loved the job. But I had a messed up knee, and the ‘Suns weren’t willing to pay for replacement surgery. Then, a buddy of mine called me up and said there was a merc unit looking to hire wounded and disabled vets and that they’d pay for whatever medical we needed. I signed up, got my knee replaced, and haven’t looked back since. I might not like being shot at, but I love all of this shit. I love my gear, I love working with a well-put-together squad, and I absolutely fucking love working with Mithril. Why, if we’d had that when I first joined, our casualty rates might have been lower!”
“Sure, now you’re going to tell me about the old days again,” Satele rolled her eyes and leaned against the wall.
“Well, if you don’t want to hear the stories I’ve got, then you don’t have to listen,” Frank sheathed his knife and laid down on his bunk, stretching out and relaxing. “‘Sides, there’ll be plenty of action to whet your appetite soon enough.”
“Speaking of which,” Satele pulled her legs into her chest and rested her chin on them. “What’s your take on the op we’re being sent on?”
“I don’t really care as long as I’m getting paid,” Frank shrugged, closing his eyes. “I’m here for the payday, not the politics. Though, shooting at some pirates always feels good, so I guess there’s that.”
“Meant more about us being pulled to support the CIS on this one.”
“Oh, they should be fine,” Frank sighed. “Their training is good, and we’ve got a whole company on QRF to back up our platoon if things go wrong. I’ve also heard good things about their pilots. As long as the battle in the void goes well, we should have good support on the ground.”
“We’re boarding space stations,” Satele snarked. “I doubt we’ll need air support while on a station.”
“Shows what you know,” Frank responded in kind. “See if Hober or one of his buddies bails you out when I tell him you said that.”
The old veteran shifted a bit and then groaned and stood up. “We might as well go check on our gear. The last thing we need is a malfunction when lives are on the line.”
“You go on ahead,” Satele nodded. “I’ll catch up in a couple of minutes.”
As he walked out, Satele immersed herself in the Force, allowing the emotions and feelings of everyone onboard the ship to slow through her for a second.
It was always so interesting to her to feel the entire gamut of emotions, from joy to boredom and everything in between, in a few minutes. But the Light Side was always a part of this sort of thing. Sure, the Dark Side was also present, but it was always a shadow here or there among soldiers. Despite the dark humor, crass jokes, and general depressive mood at times, there was no place that flourished with more life than a group of soldiers. As she stood and made her way to the exit, Satele exhaled and allowed all those emotions to flow out of her, leaving her calm and collected as she opened the door and left the barracks.
Sheppard stood up and turned towards the elevator doors as they slid open, revealing his CO.
The look on his face was exhaustion, and there were apparent bags and stress lines across his face.
“Whelp, that was productive,” he groaned and collapsed into one of the couches.
“Good news?” Sheppard asked, taking a seat across from him.
“Kinda,” Mark leaned his head against the back of the sofa and closed his eyes. “It’s all jacked up politically in the meetings.”
“Even though there’s not a lot of red tape, politics and bureaucrats will still get their way,” Sheppard agreed. “So, what’s in the future for us?”
“We’re being sidelined on this one,” He exhaled and seemingly forced his body to relax. “Admiral Landkai had a lot of good points, and the CIS does need to learn to operate on their own.”
“He’s one of the few officers with field experience,” Sheppard agreed. “And it’s not his first operation against pirates. This will be a good learning experience for their marines, intel, and ground officers.”
“That part, we’re not sidelined on,” Mark sat up straight and opened his eyes, rubbing sleepiness from them. “They want one of our teams to act as SF.”
“None of us are SF-rated,” Sheppard scoffed, nearly choking on his drink. “Aside from Dunham and one or two of his guys. But even then, his CSV had so much black ink when we hired him that we’ll never know.”
“We still have a higher standard of training expected and better gear than most of their guys. We’re not the tip of the spear here. We’re just being asked to support their own SF teams,” Mark tossed a datapad across the room onto the couch next to Sheppard. “But we both know that doesn’t mean jack shit.”
“It just means that Packer’s going to cuss both of us out later,” Sheppard picked up the datapad and began going through the notes that Hull had taken. “You good?”
“I’m just tired,” Hull shifted and laid down lengthwise on the couch, bringing his hat down over his eyes. “I’m just gonna lay here and take a nap.”
“You do that,” Sheppard began highlighting sections of the notes for revisit later. “I’ll just keep going through this.”
But Hull was already asleep. The deep breaths and lack of response were evidence of that.
“Now, let’s see exactly what’s to be expected of us in the future,” The Marksman XO stood up and headed for a nearby office.
“The history books never really talk about this part of things,” Satele complained to her new battle buddy as they sat at their bunks, bored out of their minds.
“The waiting?” Frank asked.
“Yeah,” Satele sighed. “No one ever talks about it.”
“That’s because it’s boring,” Frank laughed. “Besides, I prefer this to being shot at. I’ve spent enough time seeing friends get shredded by ‘Mechs and Tanks to ever want to do it again.”
“Then why stay in?” Satele asked. “You’ve been doing this for almost as long as I’ve been alive. Why not retire?”
“I find that I’m a bit too old to change my ways,” the graybeard shrugged, cleaning out from his fingernails with a large knife. “I joined the AFFS back in ‘95, did my time as jump infantry, then realized once I got out that the pay sucked, but that I loved the job. But I had a messed up knee, and the ‘Suns weren’t willing to pay for replacement surgery. Then, a buddy of mine called me up and said there was a merc unit looking to hire wounded and disabled vets and that they’d pay for whatever medical we needed. I signed up, got my knee replaced, and haven’t looked back since. I might not like being shot at, but I love all of this shit. I love my gear, I love working with a well-put-together squad, and I absolutely fucking love working with Mithril. Why, if we’d had that when I first joined, our casualty rates might have been lower!”
“Sure, now you’re going to tell me about the old days again,” Satele rolled her eyes and leaned against the wall.
“Well, if you don’t want to hear the stories I’ve got, then you don’t have to listen,” Frank sheathed his knife and laid down on his bunk, stretching out and relaxing. “‘Sides, there’ll be plenty of action to whet your appetite soon enough.”
“Speaking of which,” Satele pulled her legs into her chest and rested her chin on them. “What’s your take on the op we’re being sent on?”
“I don’t really care as long as I’m getting paid,” Frank shrugged, closing his eyes. “I’m here for the payday, not the politics. Though, shooting at some pirates always feels good, so I guess there’s that.”
“Meant more about us being pulled to support the CIS on this one.”
“Oh, they should be fine,” Frank sighed. “Their training is good, and we’ve got a whole company on QRF to back up our platoon if things go wrong. I’ve also heard good things about their pilots. As long as the battle in the void goes well, we should have good support on the ground.”
“We’re boarding space stations,” Satele snarked. “I doubt we’ll need air support while on a station.”
“Shows what you know,” Frank responded in kind. “See if Hober or one of his buddies bails you out when I tell him you said that.”
The old veteran shifted a bit and then groaned and stood up. “We might as well go check on our gear. The last thing we need is a malfunction when lives are on the line.”
“You go on ahead,” Satele nodded. “I’ll catch up in a couple of minutes.”
As he walked out, Satele immersed herself in the Force, allowing the emotions and feelings of everyone onboard the ship to slow through her for a second.
It was always so interesting to her to feel the entire gamut of emotions, from joy to boredom and everything in between, in a few minutes. But the Light Side was always a part of this sort of thing. Sure, the Dark Side was also present, but it was always a shadow here or there among soldiers. Despite the dark humor, crass jokes, and general depressive mood at times, there was no place that flourished with more life than a group of soldiers. As she stood and made her way to the exit, Satele exhaled and allowed all those emotions to flow out of her, leaving her calm and collected as she opened the door and left the barracks.
Book 2: Chapter 18
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Location: Unnamed System between Hutt and CIS Space.
Date: March 19, 3018 AD/18.03.7957 CRC (Coruscant Reckoning Calendar)
Dreadnought-class heavy Cruisers from the CIS Navy winked into existence a short distance away from a myriad of space stations with heavy traffic between them. The vessels immediately raised shields and began moving into battle formations with overlapping lanes of fire with their support vessels.
Further away, blocking the exits to the system, Inhibitor-Class Battleships activated their Gravity wells, preventing any of the pirate or Hutt ships from jumping into hyperspace to evade the squadrons of starfighters that now streamed out of the support elements for the Dreadnoughts and the Battleships.
The smaller pirate ships darted around the system, moving down onto the lone habitable planet’s surface or hiding behind the stations that orbited said planet as the fleet moved in.
“This is Admiral Jerome Landkai of the Confederacy of Independent Systems to all vessels and stations in this system. You have been found violating our sovereign space with acts of piracy and slaving. If you surrender, you will see your day in court and will be given a fair trial with adequate representation. If you do not, then may whatever gods you swear to have mercy upon your souls. For you will find none with me or my people.”
A handful of ships powered down and seemed to accept the surrender offer, but the rest decided that discretion was not the better part of valor.
On paper, the pirates and Hutts in this system outnumbered the fleet that the Confederacy Navy had jumped in. In reality, those ships were ill-maintained, lacked firepower, or couldn’t take on the more modern vessels the Confederacy had brought to bear.
“I want those big haulers disabled and boarded,” Landkai ordered, gesturing toward a small cluster of ships still attempting to escape. “Get the Gladius and Longsword into position to target those light freighters. And have the rest of our starfighters shift to here,” Landkai tapped a grid on the holotable. “We’ll have them move in and clean up anything that’s trying to hide after we’re done here.”
With his initial orders established, Landkai watched as they executed the plan they’d painstakingly worked on for the last few months and waited for something to go wrong.
The first thing to go wrong wasn’t anything they’d accounted for. The Electronic Warfare suites of most of the CR-70 Corvettes that doubled as small carriers began to fall behind under a bombardment of advanced EWAR from the pirate stations. Any communication with them was lost in static and noise as the personnel frantically tried to break through the enemy jamming.
And so, the first casualties of the Confederacy’s antipiracy operations against the shadow systems controlled by the Hutts weren’t their Starfighter pilots or the crews of the Cruisers or Battleships. But the Corvettes and smaller support vessels.
The Confederacy had invested a great deal of money into acquiring and modernizing the ships that made up their navy. The vessels that were manufactured and refurbished by Rendilli were indeed state-of-the-art masterpieces that would stand in the future for at least a few years. However, not all of the Confederacy’s Navy was built by Rendili. Despite the solid reputation of Corellian manufacturing, they refused to supply the Confederacy with upgraded EWAR and targeting suites. Requiring the CIS to source them from manufacturers that were simply not entirely up to the task of the more prominent manufacturers.
Later, these smaller shipyards and companies would be some of the best in the entire Galaxy due to them eating the cost of their mistakes, engineering new EWAR suites, and targeting computers that were the best in the business, along with high-quality Corvettes and other support craft.
But that wasn’t today. Today, the Confederacy Navy paid a steep price for a lesson they thought they’d already learned.
“Have our Pocket-carriers pull back,” Landkai ordered.
“Sir, we’re transmitting, but there’s no response,” the comms officer said, shaking his head. “Either they can’t hear us or our primary transmitter was damaged in the salvo we took from that old Cruiser.”
“Transmitter’s working just fine!” The Damage Control Officer reported. “The problem isn’t on our end; our shields are still holding at sixty percent, and we’ve only got a bit of hull scarring from that last exchange of fire.”
“We’re also not receiving any transmissions from them, Admiral. But we are managing to get through interference to a few squadrons of Starfighters.”
“Have the Starfighters we held back move in to protect the CR-70s and other support craft,” Landkai ordered as he watched two of the red dots on his holotable fade.
The fighters moved in, and the furball grew. Snub nose fighters and other smaller craft darted around the larger ships, narrowly evading the large weapons as they exchanged broadsides of turbolasers and concussion missiles.
One pirate ship went out in a blaze of glory, its engines pushing it into and through the broken shields of one CR-70, breaking it apart before the two collided with a third and spun off into close orbit of the planet below.
A squadron of bombers evaded pirate interceptors and began a run on one of the few capital ships in the system. Their payload struck the ancient cruiser as its shields fell, causing secondary explosions to ripple through the ship.
And amid all this chaos, a handful of ships began what was the most daring part of this operation. These ships had been loaded with boarding craft, gunships, and their escorts instead of starfighters, and seeing their opportunity, they began to launch.
The Boarding craft began to head for the hangers of the nearby space stations. Where they couldn’t find a hanger, they impacted the side and cut their way through, sealing the holes behind them as they began to clear out the stations.
These Marines cut a bloody swath through the pirates that remained on board, stunning those that they caught by surprise and shackling them with the cuffs they liberated from the pirate’s own stores before stepping over the dead and continuing through the station. Wounded Marines were left behind with medics to cover the prisoners and begin rendering aid to freed slaves.
Satele stepped into this chaos, her Mithril shielding her as she followed Frank and the rest of her squad into the station. The Force screamed around her. The dead and dying were one voice in the noise, but the worst was the lingering suffering of the tortured and damned who had been slaves or tortured here for year after year.
“Hold,” Frank grabbed her shoulder and held her back as their point man stacked up on the nearest door. “Get in position. We do this by the numbers so none of us gets more holes than we came with today.”
“Yessir,” Satele dry swallowed and released her firm hold on the Force, allowing the emotion around her to fade into the background. “I’m solid.”
“If you need to sit this one out, just let me know,” Frank said, opening a private channel for her.I read the briefings on these powers you’ve got, and I know the Empathetic connection is probably screaming in your head right now.”
“I’ve got it under control,” Satele replied, her voice firm. “I just needed a minute to process everything.”
“Then we push,” Frank nodded at their engineer, gesturing for him to hit the door controls. “Let’s move it, Marines! We get paid by the job, not the hour!”
Date: March 19, 3018 AD/18.03.7957 CRC (Coruscant Reckoning Calendar)
Dreadnought-class heavy Cruisers from the CIS Navy winked into existence a short distance away from a myriad of space stations with heavy traffic between them. The vessels immediately raised shields and began moving into battle formations with overlapping lanes of fire with their support vessels.
Further away, blocking the exits to the system, Inhibitor-Class Battleships activated their Gravity wells, preventing any of the pirate or Hutt ships from jumping into hyperspace to evade the squadrons of starfighters that now streamed out of the support elements for the Dreadnoughts and the Battleships.
The smaller pirate ships darted around the system, moving down onto the lone habitable planet’s surface or hiding behind the stations that orbited said planet as the fleet moved in.
“This is Admiral Jerome Landkai of the Confederacy of Independent Systems to all vessels and stations in this system. You have been found violating our sovereign space with acts of piracy and slaving. If you surrender, you will see your day in court and will be given a fair trial with adequate representation. If you do not, then may whatever gods you swear to have mercy upon your souls. For you will find none with me or my people.”
A handful of ships powered down and seemed to accept the surrender offer, but the rest decided that discretion was not the better part of valor.
On paper, the pirates and Hutts in this system outnumbered the fleet that the Confederacy Navy had jumped in. In reality, those ships were ill-maintained, lacked firepower, or couldn’t take on the more modern vessels the Confederacy had brought to bear.
“I want those big haulers disabled and boarded,” Landkai ordered, gesturing toward a small cluster of ships still attempting to escape. “Get the Gladius and Longsword into position to target those light freighters. And have the rest of our starfighters shift to here,” Landkai tapped a grid on the holotable. “We’ll have them move in and clean up anything that’s trying to hide after we’re done here.”
With his initial orders established, Landkai watched as they executed the plan they’d painstakingly worked on for the last few months and waited for something to go wrong.
The first thing to go wrong wasn’t anything they’d accounted for. The Electronic Warfare suites of most of the CR-70 Corvettes that doubled as small carriers began to fall behind under a bombardment of advanced EWAR from the pirate stations. Any communication with them was lost in static and noise as the personnel frantically tried to break through the enemy jamming.
And so, the first casualties of the Confederacy’s antipiracy operations against the shadow systems controlled by the Hutts weren’t their Starfighter pilots or the crews of the Cruisers or Battleships. But the Corvettes and smaller support vessels.
The Confederacy had invested a great deal of money into acquiring and modernizing the ships that made up their navy. The vessels that were manufactured and refurbished by Rendilli were indeed state-of-the-art masterpieces that would stand in the future for at least a few years. However, not all of the Confederacy’s Navy was built by Rendili. Despite the solid reputation of Corellian manufacturing, they refused to supply the Confederacy with upgraded EWAR and targeting suites. Requiring the CIS to source them from manufacturers that were simply not entirely up to the task of the more prominent manufacturers.
Later, these smaller shipyards and companies would be some of the best in the entire Galaxy due to them eating the cost of their mistakes, engineering new EWAR suites, and targeting computers that were the best in the business, along with high-quality Corvettes and other support craft.
But that wasn’t today. Today, the Confederacy Navy paid a steep price for a lesson they thought they’d already learned.
“Have our Pocket-carriers pull back,” Landkai ordered.
“Sir, we’re transmitting, but there’s no response,” the comms officer said, shaking his head. “Either they can’t hear us or our primary transmitter was damaged in the salvo we took from that old Cruiser.”
“Transmitter’s working just fine!” The Damage Control Officer reported. “The problem isn’t on our end; our shields are still holding at sixty percent, and we’ve only got a bit of hull scarring from that last exchange of fire.”
“We’re also not receiving any transmissions from them, Admiral. But we are managing to get through interference to a few squadrons of Starfighters.”
“Have the Starfighters we held back move in to protect the CR-70s and other support craft,” Landkai ordered as he watched two of the red dots on his holotable fade.
The fighters moved in, and the furball grew. Snub nose fighters and other smaller craft darted around the larger ships, narrowly evading the large weapons as they exchanged broadsides of turbolasers and concussion missiles.
One pirate ship went out in a blaze of glory, its engines pushing it into and through the broken shields of one CR-70, breaking it apart before the two collided with a third and spun off into close orbit of the planet below.
A squadron of bombers evaded pirate interceptors and began a run on one of the few capital ships in the system. Their payload struck the ancient cruiser as its shields fell, causing secondary explosions to ripple through the ship.
And amid all this chaos, a handful of ships began what was the most daring part of this operation. These ships had been loaded with boarding craft, gunships, and their escorts instead of starfighters, and seeing their opportunity, they began to launch.
The Boarding craft began to head for the hangers of the nearby space stations. Where they couldn’t find a hanger, they impacted the side and cut their way through, sealing the holes behind them as they began to clear out the stations.
These Marines cut a bloody swath through the pirates that remained on board, stunning those that they caught by surprise and shackling them with the cuffs they liberated from the pirate’s own stores before stepping over the dead and continuing through the station. Wounded Marines were left behind with medics to cover the prisoners and begin rendering aid to freed slaves.
Satele stepped into this chaos, her Mithril shielding her as she followed Frank and the rest of her squad into the station. The Force screamed around her. The dead and dying were one voice in the noise, but the worst was the lingering suffering of the tortured and damned who had been slaves or tortured here for year after year.
“Hold,” Frank grabbed her shoulder and held her back as their point man stacked up on the nearest door. “Get in position. We do this by the numbers so none of us gets more holes than we came with today.”
“Yessir,” Satele dry swallowed and released her firm hold on the Force, allowing the emotion around her to fade into the background. “I’m solid.”
“If you need to sit this one out, just let me know,” Frank said, opening a private channel for her.I read the briefings on these powers you’ve got, and I know the Empathetic connection is probably screaming in your head right now.”
“I’ve got it under control,” Satele replied, her voice firm. “I just needed a minute to process everything.”
“Then we push,” Frank nodded at their engineer, gesturing for him to hit the door controls. “Let’s move it, Marines! We get paid by the job, not the hour!”
Book 2: Chapter 19
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Book 2: Chapter 19
Admiral Jerome Landkai of the CIS Navy looked at the holotable as space stations that were designed for processing slaves slowly changed colors from green to red as their marines boarded and took control.
“Commodore Nuthros, once the stations are secure lift the interdiction fields and have the Aid ships enter the system. Senior Captain Nak, I want comprehensive scans of the surface. Find the weak spots in their shield emitters and defenses.”
“Lifting interdiction fields now, Admiral,” the Commodore replied. “Sending signal to search and rescue teams along with the aid and hospital ships.”
“Sir, full scans will take days or weeks,” Nak’s bridge had a bit of smoke in the background. “I recommend we secure and lock down the system before attempting to land ground forces.”
“I’ll take that into advisement, Senior Captain,” Landkai stood up and clasped his hands behind his back, moving to the screens that simulated a viewport. “Do we have a status report on the stations?”
“The mercenaries are finishing up with the largest station now,” the comms officer reported. “They had a larger amount of slaves there so they’ve been moving more cautiously.”
“Understandable,” Landkai reached a hand up to stroke his mustache. “Detach Confederacy Intelligence assets from the fleet and allow them access to the computer systems. I want every piece of data we can acquire stripped from them and put to use finding other systems like this. We may not be allowed to strike directly at the Hutts for the moment, but we can cause them issues by carving away at the slave trade and what supports it little by little.”
Location: Raxus Secundus, Confederacy of Independent Systems
Date: March 25, 3018 AD/25.03.7957 CRC (Coruscant Reckoning Calendar)
“Our operations against bands of slavers and pirates in Confederacy Space have been a success,” Senator Clay grinned at the rest of the cabinet.
“They have been,” the director of the CIA agreed. “It will take some time to go through all of the intelligence we gathered from it.”
“We’ve already fixed the logistical issues that we discovered during this operation. And Rendili, Mon Calamari, and our other shipyards are already beginning to replace our losses,” Secretary of War Alidus Twicor reported. “The Marksman are patrolling the sectors we contracted them for and are holding steady. The War Department is readying plans for potential open retaliation from the Hutts, even if we’re currently only attacking the deniable assets. We do have concerns about the lack of intelligence on what might be hidden in Hutt Space. They’ve been in control of that sector for many millenia and we have no idea what superweapons or relics have been stashed for a time as this.”
“And our diplomatic ties?” Dooku asked the Secretary of Foreign relations.
“We have approval across the Republic for our actions from the common people,” Alexgra Hanpash tapped her datapad nervously. “But the Senate is trying to push more sanctions through against us even in the midst of this. The Hapans are happy to continue relations with us but are mostly content sticking to themselves. Ambassador Anita Talpav has informed me that they are willing to assist with circumnavigating the loss of trade due to sanctions.”
“They’ll certainly mark it up to make a profit off of it,” Clay shrugged. “But such is the game of politics.”
“I fear we must finish this policing action soon,” Dooku closed his eyes for a moment as he caught a glimpse of a possible future. “War is on the Horizon, I can sense it.”
Dooku stood up, his cape sweeping behind him as he looked at each of his cabinet members.
“This will be my last term as Head of State,” He finally spoke. “I have served for four years, and the Confederacy has Flourished. But I have responsibilities beyond the Confederacy, I am also the Count of Serenno. While I serve here, my world is kept by a Steward. It does not lie fallow, but progress is not as I would desire it to be.”
“I will serve out the rest of my six-year term, and then I will retire to my estate. But I will not leave a weak and shallow Government behind. I will see to it that the Confederacy is able to withstand whatever may come without compromising the ideals on which it has been founded.”
Dooku’s eyes softened.
“I am an old man. Yes, Cassius, older than even you. I have served nearly my entire life for one cause or another. I would spend the last of my days rebuilding my home to a glory it has not seen in millenia,” Dooku sat back down. “Now, we will plan out the next two years of my term as Head of State. We will do all that is granted within the power of my office to prepare for the future. Whether it is War or Peace, the next Head of State will have all of the resources available to them for whatever the future holds.”
Date: June 6, 3018 AD/06.06.7957 CRC (Coruscant Reckoning Calendar)
Location: Beloria, Independent System
“Siri, breakfast is ready!” I called out from the kitchen as I plated an omelet. Melted cheese oozed out of it and the smell of the bacon I’d cooked already filled the air.
“It smells good,” Siri smiled as she entered the kitchen and accepted her plate. “It’s good to finally both be in the same place.”
“Best sleep I’ve had in months,” I agreed. “I’d forgotten what it was like to get used to sharing a bed with someone.”
“It is something I am quickly learning to enjoy,” she began eating. “I am not as used to some of these things as you are.”
I paused as I fixed my own plate and sat down across from her.
“So, generally, when it comes to relationships, there’s going to be what I call the break-in period,” I took a bite and then sipped my coffee. “There’s always little things that annoy people, but those can be learned or adapted around. The big issues are what I like to call the ‘deal breakers’. The things that are non negotiable. Things that wreck relationships faster than anything else. The most obvious of these is cheating on your significant other, but there are others that people don’t realize they have until they sit and discuss them.”
Siri hummed thoughtfully as she considered what I said.
“I will have to think on this,” she muttered. “I had not considered all of the ramifications.”
“I have a couple of main dealbreakers,” I finally said. “The first one is the one I discussed as an example. But the other one is something that I’m not sure you’ve even thought of yet.”
I paused and considered how to say the next words.
“I don’t do casual relationships,” I said after what felt like years. “ I enjoy sex as much as the next human male, but I want more than just a warm body next to me. I also want a family. Biological or not isn’t a big deal to me, but I want kids to raise and teach. Sure, my profession might be violence, but I’m also a farmer. I come from a long line of farmers and ranchers. I want to pass on the things that were taught to me as a kid growing up. I want to patch up scraped knees, throw a ball back and forth and teach them how to shoot better than me.”
“I know it’s a lot to just dump on someone all at once, but I learned a long time ago that if you don’t tell people what you want and expect, eventually, it’ll turn into resentment as they fail to live up to the unspoken expectations.”
I stood up and began cleaning the table from breakfast.
“I don’t expect you to have an answer right away. But take the time to think about your own dealbreakers. And whether or not you want the same things out of life that I do. Because I’d rather find out now, than both of us end up miserable in a few years…”
Author’s Note: Sorry for the late update on this, it got rewritten four or five times, and then Hurrican Helene showed up for a party. I’m safe and fine, but pray for those in North Carolina and the mountains. They’re not doing as well as I am, or as one of my friends put it yesterday. “Some of our answers to prayer were other people’s nightmares this weekend.”
Admiral Jerome Landkai of the CIS Navy looked at the holotable as space stations that were designed for processing slaves slowly changed colors from green to red as their marines boarded and took control.
“Commodore Nuthros, once the stations are secure lift the interdiction fields and have the Aid ships enter the system. Senior Captain Nak, I want comprehensive scans of the surface. Find the weak spots in their shield emitters and defenses.”
“Lifting interdiction fields now, Admiral,” the Commodore replied. “Sending signal to search and rescue teams along with the aid and hospital ships.”
“Sir, full scans will take days or weeks,” Nak’s bridge had a bit of smoke in the background. “I recommend we secure and lock down the system before attempting to land ground forces.”
“I’ll take that into advisement, Senior Captain,” Landkai stood up and clasped his hands behind his back, moving to the screens that simulated a viewport. “Do we have a status report on the stations?”
“The mercenaries are finishing up with the largest station now,” the comms officer reported. “They had a larger amount of slaves there so they’ve been moving more cautiously.”
“Understandable,” Landkai reached a hand up to stroke his mustache. “Detach Confederacy Intelligence assets from the fleet and allow them access to the computer systems. I want every piece of data we can acquire stripped from them and put to use finding other systems like this. We may not be allowed to strike directly at the Hutts for the moment, but we can cause them issues by carving away at the slave trade and what supports it little by little.”
Location: Raxus Secundus, Confederacy of Independent Systems
Date: March 25, 3018 AD/25.03.7957 CRC (Coruscant Reckoning Calendar)
“Our operations against bands of slavers and pirates in Confederacy Space have been a success,” Senator Clay grinned at the rest of the cabinet.
“They have been,” the director of the CIA agreed. “It will take some time to go through all of the intelligence we gathered from it.”
“We’ve already fixed the logistical issues that we discovered during this operation. And Rendili, Mon Calamari, and our other shipyards are already beginning to replace our losses,” Secretary of War Alidus Twicor reported. “The Marksman are patrolling the sectors we contracted them for and are holding steady. The War Department is readying plans for potential open retaliation from the Hutts, even if we’re currently only attacking the deniable assets. We do have concerns about the lack of intelligence on what might be hidden in Hutt Space. They’ve been in control of that sector for many millenia and we have no idea what superweapons or relics have been stashed for a time as this.”
“And our diplomatic ties?” Dooku asked the Secretary of Foreign relations.
“We have approval across the Republic for our actions from the common people,” Alexgra Hanpash tapped her datapad nervously. “But the Senate is trying to push more sanctions through against us even in the midst of this. The Hapans are happy to continue relations with us but are mostly content sticking to themselves. Ambassador Anita Talpav has informed me that they are willing to assist with circumnavigating the loss of trade due to sanctions.”
“They’ll certainly mark it up to make a profit off of it,” Clay shrugged. “But such is the game of politics.”
“I fear we must finish this policing action soon,” Dooku closed his eyes for a moment as he caught a glimpse of a possible future. “War is on the Horizon, I can sense it.”
Dooku stood up, his cape sweeping behind him as he looked at each of his cabinet members.
“This will be my last term as Head of State,” He finally spoke. “I have served for four years, and the Confederacy has Flourished. But I have responsibilities beyond the Confederacy, I am also the Count of Serenno. While I serve here, my world is kept by a Steward. It does not lie fallow, but progress is not as I would desire it to be.”
“I will serve out the rest of my six-year term, and then I will retire to my estate. But I will not leave a weak and shallow Government behind. I will see to it that the Confederacy is able to withstand whatever may come without compromising the ideals on which it has been founded.”
Dooku’s eyes softened.
“I am an old man. Yes, Cassius, older than even you. I have served nearly my entire life for one cause or another. I would spend the last of my days rebuilding my home to a glory it has not seen in millenia,” Dooku sat back down. “Now, we will plan out the next two years of my term as Head of State. We will do all that is granted within the power of my office to prepare for the future. Whether it is War or Peace, the next Head of State will have all of the resources available to them for whatever the future holds.”
Date: June 6, 3018 AD/06.06.7957 CRC (Coruscant Reckoning Calendar)
Location: Beloria, Independent System
“Siri, breakfast is ready!” I called out from the kitchen as I plated an omelet. Melted cheese oozed out of it and the smell of the bacon I’d cooked already filled the air.
“It smells good,” Siri smiled as she entered the kitchen and accepted her plate. “It’s good to finally both be in the same place.”
“Best sleep I’ve had in months,” I agreed. “I’d forgotten what it was like to get used to sharing a bed with someone.”
“It is something I am quickly learning to enjoy,” she began eating. “I am not as used to some of these things as you are.”
I paused as I fixed my own plate and sat down across from her.
“So, generally, when it comes to relationships, there’s going to be what I call the break-in period,” I took a bite and then sipped my coffee. “There’s always little things that annoy people, but those can be learned or adapted around. The big issues are what I like to call the ‘deal breakers’. The things that are non negotiable. Things that wreck relationships faster than anything else. The most obvious of these is cheating on your significant other, but there are others that people don’t realize they have until they sit and discuss them.”
Siri hummed thoughtfully as she considered what I said.
“I will have to think on this,” she muttered. “I had not considered all of the ramifications.”
“I have a couple of main dealbreakers,” I finally said. “The first one is the one I discussed as an example. But the other one is something that I’m not sure you’ve even thought of yet.”
I paused and considered how to say the next words.
“I don’t do casual relationships,” I said after what felt like years. “ I enjoy sex as much as the next human male, but I want more than just a warm body next to me. I also want a family. Biological or not isn’t a big deal to me, but I want kids to raise and teach. Sure, my profession might be violence, but I’m also a farmer. I come from a long line of farmers and ranchers. I want to pass on the things that were taught to me as a kid growing up. I want to patch up scraped knees, throw a ball back and forth and teach them how to shoot better than me.”
“I know it’s a lot to just dump on someone all at once, but I learned a long time ago that if you don’t tell people what you want and expect, eventually, it’ll turn into resentment as they fail to live up to the unspoken expectations.”
I stood up and began cleaning the table from breakfast.
“I don’t expect you to have an answer right away. But take the time to think about your own dealbreakers. And whether or not you want the same things out of life that I do. Because I’d rather find out now, than both of us end up miserable in a few years…”
Author’s Note: Sorry for the late update on this, it got rewritten four or five times, and then Hurrican Helene showed up for a party. I’m safe and fine, but pray for those in North Carolina and the mountains. They’re not doing as well as I am, or as one of my friends put it yesterday. “Some of our answers to prayer were other people’s nightmares this weekend.”
Book 2: Chapter 20
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Book 2: Chapter 20
Date: August 15, 3018/08.15.7957CRC (Coruscant Reckoning Calendar)
Location: Serenno, Confederacy of Independent Systems
“Uncle will be returning soon,” Vet glanced at her brother as they combed over the last of the reports. “Do you think we have stewarded well?”
“I think that there is still more we can do for our people,” Adan replied. “We are the heirs of Uncle Yan. He has entrusted us with much in his absence and I would honor that.”
“And you have done well,” Yan Dooku stepped into the room. “I am grateful that you were both willing to accept the responsibility. I am aware that your mother and I do not get along. But I would remain as family with those who I have left.”
“Mother enjoyed acting as regent,” Adan shrugged. “But I do not know if it is for as noble a reason as I once believed.”
“Something you will learn as you grow in knowledge and wisdom,” Yan stroked his goatee. “Is that someone may have many reasons for doing something. The one that you see is not always the one that they are operating off of. But the results may yet be the same.”
“Now come, the both of you! There is much happening in the galaxy and I would not have you uninformed of events that involve you and your sister.”
Vet exchanged a glance with her older brother who just shrugged and stood to follow their uncle, leaving her to catch up, her skirts clutched in her hands.
“My time as Head of State in the Confederacy will end in less than two years,” Yan said as they entered the hall with the large emblem of House Dooku on it. “I intend to retire beyond simply that post.”
The Count paused and faced them, his gaze piercing to their souls.
“The Countship will pass onto you, Adan,” Yan stated. “This time is not simply for you to Steward, but to prepare you for the responsibilities that you will be required to uphold.”
Yan gestured for them to take seats in the Great Hall with him.
“When I retire, I will be sworn to you. For War or for Peace, my sword will be yours as long as I have breath,” Dooku inhaled and paused. “I am an old man, Niece, Nephew. I will eventually fade away into the Force as those before me have. I would prefer to spend my last days learning that which I never had the opportunity. But the future is ever in motion. None, not even the very wise know all ends. And I fear that my part in this is not yet over.”
Date: October 17, 3018/17.10.7975CRC (Coruscant Reckoning Calendar)
Location: Beloria, Independent System
“Whelp, I’m actually surprised,” I looked at the newly completed shipyards through the viewport. “I expected it to be overbudget and delayed.”
“Well,” the Rendili representative shrugged. “We are overbudget, but that’s because we paid extra to have them hire more so that it could be completed sooner.”
“What do I owe you for the overbudget?” I asked.
“Nothing but two of the bays for the next six months,” the representative replied. “We are currently under contract to build more ships than we have yards. You’ve dealt fairly with us, and we value our good reputation with you. We need the yards while we wait for the Sullustians to begin spinning up production.”
“You’re not worried about the competition?” I raised an eyebrow.
“No,” he laughed. “We are Rendili, we produce some of the greatest ships in the galaxy. Our craftsmanship and costs are hard to beat. We can afford to spend extra to have two more bays from your yards while we reopen old shipyards and expand our current ones.”
“I guess that’s it then,” I shrugged. “I’ll go get a contract for the two bays drawn up.”
“There is more to discuss,” he grinned. “We don’t just want to rent your yardspace. We know you’ve begun manufacturing starfighters. Our own talents do not lie in that area. But we can recognize an opportunity when we see it. I’m authorized to spend as much as it will require to expand production to outfit every single one of our new ships with your starfighters. Rendili’s fate is now tied to that of the Confederacy as yours is. We will see it endure, or we will all fall together.”
–
–
“So, that was interesting,” Sheppard said after listening to the recording of the meeting I had with the Rendili representative and looking at the contract we’d drawn up. “You think we should go for it?”
“I think it’ll ensure that our finances and equipment concerns are gone for the foreseeable future,” I replied. “The Potential downsides basically come with us not being able to be contracted by Kuat for the next thirty or so years.”
“Kuat and the Trade Federation weren’t going to try and hire us anyway,” Sheppard chuckled. “The Federation for obvious reasons, and Kuat because they are so far in bed with the corruption of the Republic that it would take a miracle to break into that market.”
“Then I guess we’re partnered with Rendili even more than we were before,” I sighed, signing on the datapad and sending a copy of the completed contract to the representative. “Now, what’s this I hear about you retiring?”
“Unless a war springs up in the next year or so I want to step down to the reserves like Peterson,” my XO nodded. “I want to settle down, start a family. I’m not getting any younger and the older I get the harder it’ll be to do that. Besides, aren’t you looking to start a family with Siri?”
“I am,” I replied. “But I’m not going to be stepping down from my position for a great many years. I have a feeling that I’m going to be needed here, in this position.”
“Just remember,” Sheppard stood up from the other side of the desk and brought me into a bro-hug. “Peterson and I aren’t gone, we’re still Marksman. You need us, and we’re right back into the thick of it with you. Retired or not.”
Date: August 15, 3018/08.15.7957CRC (Coruscant Reckoning Calendar)
Location: Serenno, Confederacy of Independent Systems
“Uncle will be returning soon,” Vet glanced at her brother as they combed over the last of the reports. “Do you think we have stewarded well?”
“I think that there is still more we can do for our people,” Adan replied. “We are the heirs of Uncle Yan. He has entrusted us with much in his absence and I would honor that.”
“And you have done well,” Yan Dooku stepped into the room. “I am grateful that you were both willing to accept the responsibility. I am aware that your mother and I do not get along. But I would remain as family with those who I have left.”
“Mother enjoyed acting as regent,” Adan shrugged. “But I do not know if it is for as noble a reason as I once believed.”
“Something you will learn as you grow in knowledge and wisdom,” Yan stroked his goatee. “Is that someone may have many reasons for doing something. The one that you see is not always the one that they are operating off of. But the results may yet be the same.”
“Now come, the both of you! There is much happening in the galaxy and I would not have you uninformed of events that involve you and your sister.”
Vet exchanged a glance with her older brother who just shrugged and stood to follow their uncle, leaving her to catch up, her skirts clutched in her hands.
“My time as Head of State in the Confederacy will end in less than two years,” Yan said as they entered the hall with the large emblem of House Dooku on it. “I intend to retire beyond simply that post.”
The Count paused and faced them, his gaze piercing to their souls.
“The Countship will pass onto you, Adan,” Yan stated. “This time is not simply for you to Steward, but to prepare you for the responsibilities that you will be required to uphold.”
Yan gestured for them to take seats in the Great Hall with him.
“When I retire, I will be sworn to you. For War or for Peace, my sword will be yours as long as I have breath,” Dooku inhaled and paused. “I am an old man, Niece, Nephew. I will eventually fade away into the Force as those before me have. I would prefer to spend my last days learning that which I never had the opportunity. But the future is ever in motion. None, not even the very wise know all ends. And I fear that my part in this is not yet over.”
Date: October 17, 3018/17.10.7975CRC (Coruscant Reckoning Calendar)
Location: Beloria, Independent System
“Whelp, I’m actually surprised,” I looked at the newly completed shipyards through the viewport. “I expected it to be overbudget and delayed.”
“Well,” the Rendili representative shrugged. “We are overbudget, but that’s because we paid extra to have them hire more so that it could be completed sooner.”
“What do I owe you for the overbudget?” I asked.
“Nothing but two of the bays for the next six months,” the representative replied. “We are currently under contract to build more ships than we have yards. You’ve dealt fairly with us, and we value our good reputation with you. We need the yards while we wait for the Sullustians to begin spinning up production.”
“You’re not worried about the competition?” I raised an eyebrow.
“No,” he laughed. “We are Rendili, we produce some of the greatest ships in the galaxy. Our craftsmanship and costs are hard to beat. We can afford to spend extra to have two more bays from your yards while we reopen old shipyards and expand our current ones.”
“I guess that’s it then,” I shrugged. “I’ll go get a contract for the two bays drawn up.”
“There is more to discuss,” he grinned. “We don’t just want to rent your yardspace. We know you’ve begun manufacturing starfighters. Our own talents do not lie in that area. But we can recognize an opportunity when we see it. I’m authorized to spend as much as it will require to expand production to outfit every single one of our new ships with your starfighters. Rendili’s fate is now tied to that of the Confederacy as yours is. We will see it endure, or we will all fall together.”
–
–
“So, that was interesting,” Sheppard said after listening to the recording of the meeting I had with the Rendili representative and looking at the contract we’d drawn up. “You think we should go for it?”
“I think it’ll ensure that our finances and equipment concerns are gone for the foreseeable future,” I replied. “The Potential downsides basically come with us not being able to be contracted by Kuat for the next thirty or so years.”
“Kuat and the Trade Federation weren’t going to try and hire us anyway,” Sheppard chuckled. “The Federation for obvious reasons, and Kuat because they are so far in bed with the corruption of the Republic that it would take a miracle to break into that market.”
“Then I guess we’re partnered with Rendili even more than we were before,” I sighed, signing on the datapad and sending a copy of the completed contract to the representative. “Now, what’s this I hear about you retiring?”
“Unless a war springs up in the next year or so I want to step down to the reserves like Peterson,” my XO nodded. “I want to settle down, start a family. I’m not getting any younger and the older I get the harder it’ll be to do that. Besides, aren’t you looking to start a family with Siri?”
“I am,” I replied. “But I’m not going to be stepping down from my position for a great many years. I have a feeling that I’m going to be needed here, in this position.”
“Just remember,” Sheppard stood up from the other side of the desk and brought me into a bro-hug. “Peterson and I aren’t gone, we’re still Marksman. You need us, and we’re right back into the thick of it with you. Retired or not.”
PeaceMaker 03
Well-known member
Have to start the next generation, in order to have Marksman of the right age to support Luke, Leia, and the next generation.
Book 2: Headlines Interlude
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Book 2: Headlines Interlude
‘This is a mistake of the highest order. The Free Market would have ensured that those who were prepared for this would survive. The small businesses that once thrived under our Republic will now falter under the weight of the new taxes that will be imposed on them to support this new stimulus. Mark my words, this will simply drive more worlds to be empathetic to the Confederacy. We will regret this bill in its entirety.’ Independent Journalists of the Core. 11.11.7975 CRC
- “New Shipyards are constructed in the Outer Rim! The Separatists prepare for war!” Coruscant News Network 17.10.7975 CRC
- “Members of the Senate Trade Committee warn against putting more tariffs on goods from the Confederacy. Expert analysts insist that an economic collapse is imminent.” Business insiders 08.11.7975 CRC
- “The Trade Federation begins to consolidate its holdings and swings the bulk of its industry behind the Republic after the pirate attacks from the Marksman Mercenary Corporation!” Galactic Inquirer
- “Droids will take our jobs! The Trade Federation will replace all of us with droids! Just you wait and see!” Melvin Star, Infowars Weekly
- “Senate barely passes bill to prop up local shipbuilding with monetary aid after recent resurgence in Outer Rim Shipyards. Senator Bel Garm Iblis had this to say about it.
‘This is a mistake of the highest order. The Free Market would have ensured that those who were prepared for this would survive. The small businesses that once thrived under our Republic will now falter under the weight of the new taxes that will be imposed on them to support this new stimulus. Mark my words, this will simply drive more worlds to be empathetic to the Confederacy. We will regret this bill in its entirety.’ Independent Journalists of the Core. 11.11.7975 CRC
- “Mandalore begins rebuilding its military, the surrounding systems petition the Senate for a judicial response in fear!” Coruscant Information Network
- “The Slave Trade has been utterly shattered in the Confederacy! Head of State Dooku to issue address on the first of the year addressing the Confederacy as a whole.” Outer Rim Publications
- “ORSF attacked by unidentified vessels! Senator Tarkin Petitions the Senate for an aid package to no avail. Governor Tarkin hires the Marksman Mercenary Corporation to assist with combating this new threat!” Eriadu General News
- “Holonet goes down in sections of the Outer Rim as unknown forces begin pushing in from the Unknown Regions. More to follow.” Holonet News Network
- “Executive Security Solutions grows as lucrative contracts with the ORSF are offered up to various mercenary commands.” Bounty Hunters Monthly
- “A Senate Committee to investigate corruption in the court systems has been created. The had of this committee, Bail Organa of Alderaan has opened up all documentation so as to preserve transparency.” Independent Journalists of the Core
- “Confederacy of Independent Systems representative elections are held on 02.04.7976 CRC. New representatives will be sworn in on 03.15.7976. Head of State Elections are to be held on 04.07.7676 CRC with the new Head of State being sworn in at the beginning of the year.” Documentation on Confederacy Elections published by the Executive Branch of the Confederacy of Independent Systems.
- “Chancellor Palpatine is Reelected for a third term! His campaign promises a much needed stability in these troubling times.” Coruscant Information Network.
unknown forces from Unknown Regions...it is to early for our favourite green genociders,right?
And
And
- ORSF attacked by unidentified vessels! Senator Tarkin Petitions the Senate for an aid package to no avail. Governor Tarkin hires the Marksman Mercenary Corporation to assist with combating this new threat!" Eriadu General News
- - is this father of Tarkin from SW?
Thanks ! now,he probably never support Palpy.
Book 2: Chapter 21
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Book 2: Chapter 21
Date: 11.09.7975 CRC (Coruscant Reckoning Calendar)
Location: Bakura, Wild Space
“The ORSF doesn’t normally come out this far into Wild Space or the Unknown regions,” Commander Garoche Tarkin looked out the viewports at the planet below. “I am surprised that you asked for us to help instead of asking the Confederacy of Independent Systems.”
“The Confederacy is trading with us,” Suna Palak replied. “But we are still loyal to the Republic as long as they are willing to continue to provide us with assistance and exploration here. That is why we appealed to both the Senate and made a request of Governor Tarkin.”
“I have brought the small fleet as you requested, but you didn’t give us many details about what it is that you fear.”
“There have always been threats to us,” Suna shrugged. “The Unknown regions are full of strange threats and unknowns. Usually, our system defense forces would be enough, but our outer patrols have vanished, their reports never arrived, and several of the merchants we deal with among the Unknown Regions have seemingly ceased trading with us altogether. The Bakuran legislative body has decided that we should reach out to the Republic or members of the Republic for assistance.”
“The Republic has been slow to respond of late,” Tarkin scoffed. “Were my father not so steadfast in his loyalty, I would have suggested that he apply for membership of the Confederacy as others in the Outer Rim have done. As it stands, many members of the Republic have petitioned us to assist with providing security in addition to their usual defense fleets.”
“As we have,” The Cathar nodded in response. “And we are thankful that the Outer Rims Security Forces have responded both quickly and in force. We have agreed to all of the terms and conditions in the contract and will begin selling our repulsor tech to you at a sharp discount.”
Garoche simply continued looking out the viewport for a few moments before turning to her.
“I will need full reports on your system defenses as well as anything that you may have from the patrols that went missing,” He stroked his chin. “This may be simple piracy, or it may be something more sinister, we will be unable to find out until we have conducted a thorough investigation.”
“Commander Tarkin,” an aid stepped forward. “There’s a holo-com from the governor of Eriadu. It’s been marked as urgent.”
“Pardon me,” Garoche bowed to the Bakuran representative. “But I’m afraid I must respond to this. I will return afterwards and complete my initial analysis.”
–
–
“Commander,” Wilhuff’s hologram nodded at his son. “I understand that Bakura is facing pirate problems?”
“I am uncertain as to what they face,” Garoche replied, his brow raised in thought. “But based on what I have heard, I believe that we will require more than the three ships and handful of star fighters I brought with me.”
“You will receive what you ask,” Wilhuff responded. “Despite the Bakurans willingness to work with nonhumans,” the human’s face scrunched in disgust. “They export some of the best repulsors in the galaxy. We need to secure those resources if we are to continue in our efforts.”
“The nonhumans have been more helpful of late than the entirety of the core,” Garoche pointed out. “Those who have dedicated themselves to assisting us and the rest of the Rim are performing beyond expectations.”
“A pity that we must rely on such auxiliaries,” Wilhuff sighed. “But such are the times. Commander, figure out what it is you need and submit it for review. Admiral Zsinj has been granted more funding for an expansion to our forces.”
“Can we afford that?” Garoche asked. “I thought the Republic vetoed the tax breaks they promised.”
“We must unfortunately spend that which we do not have,” Willhuff replied. “Our membership grows, and despite my mistrust of many, they have backed our efforts in both the Senate and contributed funds where they were able. I should have never trusted Chancellor Palpatine’s promises after his world's pitiable performances against the Trade Federation’s blockade. But I digress. Continue with your mission, and maintain contact in the event of an attack. We will route what we can spare to assist.”
“I will do so, Governor,” Garoche responded.
They both knew what they wanted to say but were too locked into their positions to say it out loud and so the communication ended in silence.
Three local weeks later…
“Urgent communique from the Indomitable!”
“Go ahead,” Garoche stood in the center of the bridge.
“Commander, our Starfighter squadrons are down, our engines have been hammered and we’re about to lose power. I’m sending all of the scans and data we’ve collected in a burst transmission along with this message.”
“Captain, we are en route, we will relieve you,” Garoche replied.
“All hands prepare to repel boarders!” an alarm sounded.
“I’m afraid it’s too late for that, Commander. We’ll do our best to hold out, you prepare Bakura from whatever this is.”
With that, the feed cut off, leaving the bridge of the Bastion in silence.
Garoche took a deep breath and centered himself before turning and beginning to issue orders.
“Lieutenant, begin analysis of the scans and transmission, I want everything that was happening in the background and on screen looked over for information. Ensign Star, begin transmitting the information to headquarters, they have more people to look over everything.”
“What are you going to be doing, Commander?”
“Sending in the reinforcement request and coordinating with the Bakuran government,” Garoche replied. “We have a responsibility to those under our protection. We’ll not abandon them now.”
With that, the bridge turned and motion began, the crew of the Bastion beginning to move through stations as they carried out the orders of Commander Tarkin.
“And now we see what the Core really thinks,” Garoche muttered as he stepped into his office. “Or if the Republic sinks underneath the weight of its corruption.”
Date: 11.09.7975 CRC (Coruscant Reckoning Calendar)
Location: Bakura, Wild Space
“The ORSF doesn’t normally come out this far into Wild Space or the Unknown regions,” Commander Garoche Tarkin looked out the viewports at the planet below. “I am surprised that you asked for us to help instead of asking the Confederacy of Independent Systems.”
“The Confederacy is trading with us,” Suna Palak replied. “But we are still loyal to the Republic as long as they are willing to continue to provide us with assistance and exploration here. That is why we appealed to both the Senate and made a request of Governor Tarkin.”
“I have brought the small fleet as you requested, but you didn’t give us many details about what it is that you fear.”
“There have always been threats to us,” Suna shrugged. “The Unknown regions are full of strange threats and unknowns. Usually, our system defense forces would be enough, but our outer patrols have vanished, their reports never arrived, and several of the merchants we deal with among the Unknown Regions have seemingly ceased trading with us altogether. The Bakuran legislative body has decided that we should reach out to the Republic or members of the Republic for assistance.”
“The Republic has been slow to respond of late,” Tarkin scoffed. “Were my father not so steadfast in his loyalty, I would have suggested that he apply for membership of the Confederacy as others in the Outer Rim have done. As it stands, many members of the Republic have petitioned us to assist with providing security in addition to their usual defense fleets.”
“As we have,” The Cathar nodded in response. “And we are thankful that the Outer Rims Security Forces have responded both quickly and in force. We have agreed to all of the terms and conditions in the contract and will begin selling our repulsor tech to you at a sharp discount.”
Garoche simply continued looking out the viewport for a few moments before turning to her.
“I will need full reports on your system defenses as well as anything that you may have from the patrols that went missing,” He stroked his chin. “This may be simple piracy, or it may be something more sinister, we will be unable to find out until we have conducted a thorough investigation.”
“Commander Tarkin,” an aid stepped forward. “There’s a holo-com from the governor of Eriadu. It’s been marked as urgent.”
“Pardon me,” Garoche bowed to the Bakuran representative. “But I’m afraid I must respond to this. I will return afterwards and complete my initial analysis.”
–
–
“Commander,” Wilhuff’s hologram nodded at his son. “I understand that Bakura is facing pirate problems?”
“I am uncertain as to what they face,” Garoche replied, his brow raised in thought. “But based on what I have heard, I believe that we will require more than the three ships and handful of star fighters I brought with me.”
“You will receive what you ask,” Wilhuff responded. “Despite the Bakurans willingness to work with nonhumans,” the human’s face scrunched in disgust. “They export some of the best repulsors in the galaxy. We need to secure those resources if we are to continue in our efforts.”
“The nonhumans have been more helpful of late than the entirety of the core,” Garoche pointed out. “Those who have dedicated themselves to assisting us and the rest of the Rim are performing beyond expectations.”
“A pity that we must rely on such auxiliaries,” Wilhuff sighed. “But such are the times. Commander, figure out what it is you need and submit it for review. Admiral Zsinj has been granted more funding for an expansion to our forces.”
“Can we afford that?” Garoche asked. “I thought the Republic vetoed the tax breaks they promised.”
“We must unfortunately spend that which we do not have,” Willhuff replied. “Our membership grows, and despite my mistrust of many, they have backed our efforts in both the Senate and contributed funds where they were able. I should have never trusted Chancellor Palpatine’s promises after his world's pitiable performances against the Trade Federation’s blockade. But I digress. Continue with your mission, and maintain contact in the event of an attack. We will route what we can spare to assist.”
“I will do so, Governor,” Garoche responded.
They both knew what they wanted to say but were too locked into their positions to say it out loud and so the communication ended in silence.
Three local weeks later…
“Urgent communique from the Indomitable!”
“Go ahead,” Garoche stood in the center of the bridge.
“Commander, our Starfighter squadrons are down, our engines have been hammered and we’re about to lose power. I’m sending all of the scans and data we’ve collected in a burst transmission along with this message.”
“Captain, we are en route, we will relieve you,” Garoche replied.
“All hands prepare to repel boarders!” an alarm sounded.
“I’m afraid it’s too late for that, Commander. We’ll do our best to hold out, you prepare Bakura from whatever this is.”
With that, the feed cut off, leaving the bridge of the Bastion in silence.
Garoche took a deep breath and centered himself before turning and beginning to issue orders.
“Lieutenant, begin analysis of the scans and transmission, I want everything that was happening in the background and on screen looked over for information. Ensign Star, begin transmitting the information to headquarters, they have more people to look over everything.”
“What are you going to be doing, Commander?”
“Sending in the reinforcement request and coordinating with the Bakuran government,” Garoche replied. “We have a responsibility to those under our protection. We’ll not abandon them now.”
With that, the bridge turned and motion began, the crew of the Bastion beginning to move through stations as they carried out the orders of Commander Tarkin.
“And now we see what the Core really thinks,” Garoche muttered as he stepped into his office. “Or if the Republic sinks underneath the weight of its corruption.”
Doomsought
Well-known member
Sometimes the guard doesn't need to defeat the enemy to be a hero, sometimes he just has to scream loud enough to be heard.