To the Rock (0624)

[Jacobi Wylcott]

The shipment was heavily laden. One Action V Transport fulled to the rafters with droids and their respective repair parts. A second Action V Transport loaded down with static weapon systems, building materials and as many power cells as literally possible. They were launching from the orbital docks around Moraband and drifting towarss the navigational point programmed into their navic9mouters from where they would make their jump into hypersapce.

Tormentous stood silently on the bridge of the lead vessel, arms crossed with impatience while the pilot droid crews labored and ensured the shipment ran flawlessly. This would be a long tedious journey but one that would greatly benefit the efforts of the Sith at large.

Soon the greatness of the Sith would be enhcnaced yet once again.

OOC:
Action V Transport: 320 RU
Action V Transport: 320 RU

[Professor Mors]

Sa'ato rubbed his eyes with mounting fatigue. Making the logistical ends meet for this operation had been a laborious, exhaustive affair. Still, standing at attention on the bridge of one of several matching bulk freighters, the retired teacher could hardly afford to rest, much less relax. Yes, the academic and his underlings had succeeded in cramming all the rations, water canisters, and collapsible camps into their respective holds. But the true challenge still lay in the impending azure torrent of hyperspace. The journey would not be a simple one, and while Sa'ato was not shy about his objections regarding security, the Dark Lord's mind had been made.

So it was that the Neti could only glower forward out the main viewport, scrutinizing enemies that might materialize at the most inopportune moment. If there was a single saving grace to the operation, it was the sheer number of transports in the flotilla. With enough luck– or intervention from the Force, the balance of probability ensured that some number of freighters would reach their destination. The professor only hoped that his own would be counted among that number. The arboreal academic was no flying ace, and every piratical encounter up until this point had been anything but pleasant. And so he remained wary: eyes and thoughts open to any eventuality…

OOC:
Bulk Freighter: 298 RU
Bulk Freighter: 298 RU

[Ben Kenobi]

Convoy not Raided. Shippers please proceed to conclude shipment. 4 posts per by the end of the month to qualify.

[Professor Mors]

Sa'ato watched, unblinking, as the azure canopy that had fallen over the main viewport faded with the freighter's temporary return to realspace. The convoy had crossed the far side of the Reach, and would reach the drop site with a few well-calculated micro-jumps. Closing his eyes and concentrating, the Neti let his thoughts drift out through the hull, beyond the flotilla and into the cosmos. Like tendrils of curiosity made manifest, the professor probed the convoy's immediate surroundings, seeking even the slightest, aberrant sign of energy or hostile intent. After some minutes of this, the academic mentally withdrew, content that there was nothing he could detect. Instead, Sa'ato let his mind drift back toward the lead ship: the vessel in which his lord was presently lodged. The retired teacher was not above deferring to his better in the Force– and naturally, none were more attuned than his master. Had he any additional command, or intel, the Neti would remain at the ready, listening for the faintest whisper of a thought should their enemies twitch into being…

[Professor Mors]

The seconds trickled on, and by the time they had accumulated in anticipation of the next jump, Sa'ato received not but mental static and a silence rivaled only by the abyss. So be it. The Neti could only interpret his lord's inaction as confirmation that all was as it should be. Such being the case, the professor rose from the command chair and made sure that due preparations were made before the hyperdrive began to yawn back to life. By the time the academic returned to his seat, the familiar blue-white swirl had taken hold of the bridge. The cerulean blur receded much faster than before, as the flotilla reemerged into real space in a little under an hour.

The translucent aquamarine of Felucia's biosphere glinted curiously at the edge of visual range. The journey was nearly at an end, and that knowledge, coupled with the system's nascent aura, at last put the professor at ease. Though he had not walked along its jungle floor himself, Sa'ato had studied the various fauna and flora many years past. More recently, he had come to understand the planet's more sinister nature, and its welcoming capacity for the Dark Side. There were no Sith outposts here, but that mattered little. The system was tamed neither by governments nor the meddling Jedi.

Should either appear, the Neti was certain the cosmos would favor his party, and even a slight advantage was more than welcome…

[Jacobi Wylcott]

Clearing the dockyard the freighters of the Sith Order were now clear to pull out into open space and make their run to hyperspace. It unfortunately was not a ‘run’ at all - it was a dreary pace and a sad burn into the black nothingness. It took literally forever and had Tormentous any hair on his scalp then he’d likely pulled it free.

Never-the-less the freighters eventually did make it to the point where the navigation system had plotted and without further delay the ships shot off into the brightness of whites and blues.

Even this pace was dauntingly slow for his faux reserves of what he assumed was patience.

[Jacobi Wylcott]

A moment of pause during this trek across the stars was met with a teasing and ever faint touch of the Force. Tormentous eyed the nav-computer and the automated processes bringing them through the planned micro jumps through the Reach and onward towards the crossing of the Prelemian was going as planned. Thus for the moment the Dark One allowed his mind to embrace that which was not faint at all but a noticeable presence of his foliage-borne associate.

At first Tormentous’ mental response was a snap. He recoiled. That was not what he’d meant to begin with at all. Instead of welcoming the Neti along this path of slow progression he had lashed out with the mental interperatation of ‘WHAT!?’

Regaining his composure he reassessed himself and reached well into the beyond once more. Aside from an apology of which Tormentous would never present anyways, he did make effort to will a more pleasant-ish and less growling dialogue. Even then it was not of the typical narcissism of a Sith Lord but perhaps it was as a being on equal footing. Then it was that Tormentous realized he had literally never engaged in small talk with anyone and his awkward approach was further meandering into the whispers of the Force.

However he did manage to mention that when he had awoke this morning he had sharpened his sword, the Jidai Maras , even though such a sword never needed sharpening.

[Jacobi Wylcott]

Finally the arrival of the Sith flotilla was at hand and they surely did arrive not only on time but unmolested. The bright ball of white and light blues of Rhen Var shined out before them and with that the Dark One dedicated himself to getting off this ship and down to the surface. Despite the bitter cold he would enjoy earth beneath his feet once more not to mention his surveillance of the progress of the earth works and defensive installation progress of the base here. Namely the orbital guns. With these mighty cannons the Sith would be able to fend off orbital bombardments and force a ground battle should the Jedi or Alliance wish to reclaim this territory and a ground battle was what the Sith excelled at most.

It was to Tormentous’ dismay that there was a storm currently boiling over the site of their descent. Veings pumped to throbbing in his head as he ground his teeth. This would complicate their maneuvering through the atmosphere by several hours. Even as much as eight to ten.

Short of pouting, for such things would not end well with that legendary temper of his, he opened his mind once more to Sa’ato and yet again snapped through the Force to his colleague.

Complaints were soon to follow.

[Professor Mors]

When the Dark Lord offered their delayed response, it was less of a mental whisper and more a psychic slap to the face. It was unexpected, but not unwelcome. From a man who could easily kill with a thought, Sa'ato figured he might receive far worse if the dread one was less keen on his continued service. Contented for the time being, the professor left Tormentous to his devices as they made the last microjump to the frigid wastes of Rhen Var. The professor was thus reasonably surprised when the Darth initiated their mental repartee once again, his thoughts overflowing with frustration and fury.

While a trained Sith could overcome bad weather in various ways, they were better equipped to start storms rather than quell them. What's more, the time and energy needed to dispel a planetary gale was, Sa'ato assumed, an effort beneath his master. And, if the Force could not provide the haste they sought, the Neti was more than happy to make ends meet with intellect alone. He immediately set about pulling up maps, charts, and technical data, compiling possible landing sites and recording what could be disembarked now via smaller transports. Against the tide of his lord's displeasure, the academic radiated intention, focus, and a cool indifference.

The worst was far behind. Now they had only to navigate the familiar realm of numbers and equations. Sa'ato fought the urge to smirk as he gave the order for the bulk freighter to descend into the upper atmosphere. The trip had been more interesting than he could have hoped for…