What credits can buy (open)

[Corran Vellar]

~Sertar sector, Sembla System, Sembla~

Situated just off the Perlemian Trade route and just north of the Alliance-Imperial border was the unassuming island-dotted world of Sembla. It’s intelligent, philosophical and nomadic people, the Vurk, wandered the world never setting up any permanent settlements. Recently, the world has seen an influx of outsiders as the world had caught the eye of Black Star Systems. Over the last year the company has been sending crews to the island world and spending a great deal of credits on a project there. Today it was nearly complete.

A Nebulon B-2 frigate, Haven Maker, followed by a Action V, the Black Star, dropped out of hyperspace over the beautiful world. Ryder’s stepped across the bridge of his companies new flagship and looked out the view port at the planet below. He smiled as he looked upon it, the site of Black Star Systems new headquarters and training facilities. With the ever increasing contracts flowing in from the Empire, and the ones he still held in Alliance space, the company needed a permanent base and could no longer operate out of the mobile facilities they had started from.

The construction was on one of the planets larger islands with a inactive volcano. The structure itself was implementing some of the finest Imperial designs—such as the ones used to construct the Imperial palace. It’s center was a large citadel structure that reached into the sky, positioned across the structure were roughly a dozen heavy turbolasers which provided defense against potential aggressors. This part of the structure was filled with offices, conference rooms, and lobbies where clients would would meet with Black Star officials. At the base of the main structure and stretching out were sleeping quarters, classrooms, large meeting halls, warehouses, gyms and other such things for every day work and living. The surrounding land was set up as training grounds on the north side and gardens and beautiful yards on the south side where the public entrance was. Beyond the open land, a wall surrounded the compound, mounted by about a dozen heavy laser cannons to show people the Black Star Systems believed in security, especially in that of their own facilities.

Soon Ryder was aboard his Lamda shuttle making its way to the facilities’ landing zone about two clicks east of the headquarters, of course when it was fully finished he would have his own private landing pad on the citadel as well as several other VIP landing pads on the grounds of the installation.

The shuttle took a also pass over the facilities so Ryder could get a better view of it all. Sentients from Solar Wind Industries were running about putting up the last of the walls, some could be seen installing the structures’ many communication dishes. He spotted men working on the wiring for the facilities’ shield generator. If all continued according to schedule, the headquarters would be up and running by the end of the month. Happy with his flyby he waved for the pilot to take them down, it was time to see what his money had made him.

[Slade Xandir]

Somethings were meant to happen. Some were purely coincidental. But in any territory that lay near Sith Space, nothing counted on mere coincidence. That was what Blood began to gain ground on, not only grasping it as a standard by which to set his foot in as far as a leader of his Pack, but it was beginning to bud in him as a territorial expectation. Feeding on fire and breeding on lack of friction, they've been snowballing through lessons and mission successes. Nothing had gotten into them as vivaciously effective, however, as when a scouting Infiltrator submitted information of presence southeast of their dear Korriban.
That didn't sit very quietly on them, at all.

Blood hadn't been outted as a handler of the Sith Armory, as he had served under the creator of said armory. He hadn't been captured or even shown face after that skiff with Dastan, so none of the superiors captains questioned the Lord when he pointed his fingers and said "I want". Said demands included the Naga-Class Heavy Dreadnought, which after it's initial finish and test trials, had been sitting unused in the dock. If he were to lead this brief skirmish, he wanted this magnificent ship to be what led that bombardment, whether he needed it or not. A mothership was what it considered, and its powerful pack of firepower was gonna be a spectacle. But he knew it wasn't going to be what he relied on; the little people mattered, as it was what fed the grander ideal. That's why with him and his Dreadnought, would be a squadron of Y-Wings, and a squadron of Pursuer Enforcers. The Pursuers, which his lovely and most bloodthirsty Warvanus was going to be overseeing, was going to be what had the heat when it was needed. All 20 of the Pursuers were broken into groups, mini-packs, of 5 in each pack. Within these, was Warvanus, head of them all. The same rule applied to the 20 Y-Wings Raphael was to alpha himself over. Each bore 5 in the 4 accompanying herds, but ultimately, were a collective 20 which The Platinum presided over.

Blood stood in the watchway of the viewport within the Naga Dread, his body relaxed as he replayed near this very same instance over in his mind with Lidmor who now stood for taking his directive. The older man knew the Alpha had no experience in leading such an onslaught, so carefully, he asked Blood as they both watched each Squadron take their leave from the docking station and out into the expanse of space.

"What is your plan, my Lord?"

"With the instance we've been presented, and knowing exactly who stems from it, we have to kill it with fire before it bears young. We need to end their growing spread. This nest we approach is a young one, on fresh-born legs. If we can smother it, the mother might abandon it if it poses too much of a risk to her own health."

Blood watched the last of the squad throw themselves into the blur of hyperspace before the moving Naga Dread undocked and with the settling of crew, too began it's stretch. He turned to Lidmor as the stars began to blur and elongate into bright strands while they hyperdrove through the whole of reality and vacuum.

"First, we must cut the tongue of this lamb, silencing it's cries to the parent. After such, we will lay slaughter to the babe. Then this seed, will be Sith's, and Sith's, alone."

Lidmor, impressed with his immediate knack, though slightly thrown off by the different terminology, still appreciated Blood not leading a hammerheaded brutality on this parade. "Understood, my Lord."

It was then, the Naga Dread emerged from the pull of stretched time and dark matter, booming in full view of this Sembia, a planet which he would soon have the pleasure of adding to the Sith's collection of bloodstained trophies. And as he took in the new sight, turning away from Lidmor, he knew instantly that he would have had the pleasure of enjoying this planet before the Sith ran a vile oil-slick or murder over it's airs.

"Silver," he spoke into his ear attachment. "War,"" he murmured next. He knew they would be listening.

"Make silent this lamb."

[Kell Sangros]

Warvanus sat in the cockpit of the Pursuers, he had foregone using the Scimitar, and in this operation it would paint a big target on his back. Not that he minded it, but he didn’t want to give the enemy any freebies or make it easy on them. He had been given command of the squadron, The Y-wing squadron fell under Raphael’s command, they both had orders. He intended to do nothing but succeed, Soon he would be unleashed. This prospect quickened his blood. If he were not in the cockpit he would be pacing back and forth like a caged animal ready to kill.

The hum of the various instruments and engines of his craft were ready as was his squad. He had taken the 4 groups of 5 and given them their orders based on the orders that Lord Blood had given to Warvanus. He had listened to the comm. Chatter and from what he had gathered there were two ships, both would be his target. He had assigned groups 3 and 4 to the Frigate (Haven Maker) and he would take his group and group 2 to deal with the other ship (Black star)

"Make silent this lamb.” Came over the comm., it was Lord Blood it was their queue. He flipped to Blood’s private channel to give the acknowledgement “Yes Milord” then switched back to the channel that kept him in touch with his squadron and spoke.

“This is it, we have a go, remember your orders” and with that the docking bay door opened and one by one like a swarm Warvanus’ squadron departed and wasted no time as they began to head towards their targets (Warv and Gp 2 Black Star) (3 and 4 on Haven Maker) He secured the channel so only his squadron would hear him

“All groups, scramble their communications, we want them silenced” They knew their task but sometimes it helped to remind them.

Warvanus took his group towards his target and flipped the switch that would send that signal out that if successful would scramble and jam their communications, this was his intent. His Squadron would be like irritating insects to these two ships. He would enjoy this, that much is for certain.

[Lady Kota]

She stood next to the captain, he had been informed that she was "investigating" the Black Star's operation. So a surprise visit from him to his facilities was needed. Kota knew that this whole thing was for show, even the investigation was. However no one knew about the investigation outside of Argus and Doren, though Rhoden advised it she had to pretend to be doing it.

An report would be made, but it would be classified for years. Even when it was unclassified the report wouldn't contain anything of note. Her presence was suppressed(force mask) she didn't want Rev to know they were coming. Kota knew his secret, so it was best for the visible report that he didn't expect them. "Captain we should be close to where we are headed." She said.

[Raphael Xandir]

Raphael sat in the empty vacuum of space in his newly assigned Y-Wing. He hadn’t had much practice with this type of ship yet but he was getting used to it. His squadron had recently exited the jump from hyperspace and peered over the planet below. Next to him his Y-Wing sat another one, another member of the pack to help lead on this assignment. Silver eyes peering out the window towards the other Y-Wing. He wondered if she was truly ready for an assignment like this. But no matter, they would soon find out if she was or wasn’t.

The squadron fell behind the pair in space, patiently awaiting orders. It was a matter of time before they made their descent into the planets atmosphere. All they had to do now was wait for the bait to flop around in the water. Within moments the Pursuer Enforcer squadron jumped out of hyperspace, immediately making their way towards the planets surface.

Raphael toyed with the controls of his ship. His finger landed on the communication switch towards the other lead Y-Wing, “An eager man that one is.”

In the distance, he could see the Pursuer squadron creating havoc already on the planet, flying around like the pests they are. He couldn’t tell if it was effective yet, but he had high hopes for the one they called “Warvanus”. He hadn’t known the man long but he seemed useful lure for the enemy.

A finger fell on the communication switch again, “Kressara. Lets see what you can manage.”

A smirk fell over his face, “Split half the squadron and drop your ion torpedoes on the Satellites around the base.”

Gloves pushed the thrusters forward as they made way towards the planet’s atmosphere, “Ill take the other half and hit their communication centers.”

The Y-Wing squadron now hit fully speed as it raced towards the planets atmosphere. The task he set about the hopeful was a difficult one. He took the larger target, providing her with the directions to disable the more precise targets. Raphael would test her resolve on this day; he would know how she truly works under pressure.

As the squadron slowed to move around in the atmosphere, Raphael assessed their targets below. It was a shame the Sith would have to unleash havoc upon such a pristine facility. Y-Wing’s rounded around the facility completing a U-Turn so that they may fly by again to drop the ion bombs.

Through the glass the base could be seen below, Warvanus hopefully doing his job. Raphael flipped the communication switch to the whole squadron, “Alright. Lock in your targets and prepare for the first pass.”

Once affirmation of the targets being locked came in from every ship, Raphael gave the green light to begin bombing high above in the atmosphere. He hoped Kressara would get a few hits in on her first pass. But there would be another chance if she did not.

Bombing doors opened on each of the Y-Wings and half of the squadron released its ion torpedoes towards the main communication center.

[Kressara Thryn]

It had only been a short while since Kressara Thryn aligned herself with the Sith and already they had her flying a Y-Wing and following her mentor through a battle the likes of which she never dreamed she’d see for herself. She peered out the window into the vast darkness of space and sighed deeply, clearly stressed. Flying was not to her liking when it came to navigating the endless expanse of stars and planets. This attack meant less to her than it probably did to the rest of her squadron, though she’d fight just as viciously as the rest of them for the man leading the bombers. In truth his fulfilled promises of purpose and destiny (As much as she hated to admit it) gave her a sense of loyalty that was hard to come by these days. If he asked her to fly alongside him in war then she would, even if the thought of potentially being stranded in space made her want to claw her own eyes out.

Raphael’s voice startled her slightly, taking another deep breath before answering with a voice far more confident than she felt, “Of course, master. I’ll follow your lead.”

Her false bravado was hopefully enough to ensure his own confidence in her abilities. Kressara nervously picked at her lip with her teeth while they waited and watched the battle’s beginning with unyielding interest. Her finger tapped the com button again and added in as an afterthought to her mentor, “Good luck.” Kressara wondered if saying ‘May the force be with you’ would have been more appropriate, but seeing as she was yet to actually develop a true understanding of her connection to the force it just felt superficial.

The commands were given and the squadron split to divide and hopefully conquer. Kressara flicked on her targeting system and moved with the rest of the formation, flanking Raphael’s Y-Wing and keeping her eyes out for incoming threats. Seconds felt like minutes and by the time they rounded into position she was prepared to drop as many bombs as it took to get this mission done. Cargo doors opened on her craft and down dropped the ion torpedoes in unison with the rest of her team. The girl wasn’t sure if they’d connect with their target or not, but so far it all seemed a bit easier than she anticipated. So long as she followed Raphael and mimicked the dropping times of all the other experienced fliers than maybe she’d be able to say she hit a few targets come the end of the day.

[Professor Mors]

"We have made excellent time M'lady", Doren answered back, "Of that you can be sure". Having drifted down from the Corporate Sector, the Victory-Class Star Destroyer Reverent had seen little in the way of impediments on its way to Sembla. Normally, Vassyl would not have been graced with the Grand Inquisitor's presence on so simple a visit. That said, she had personally conducted an extended investigation into the background of Black Star Industries, and was not to be dissuaded of traveling to their newest headquarters in person. As the good captain was already in the area, their rendezvous was all but assured. For Doren's part, he was seldom in a mood to turn the itinerant Kota away, and had grown to enjoy her company, despite the limits of their various interactions. Now, for a brief time, the pair stood resolute, observing the last vestiges of hyperspace before entering the neighboring system.

As reality reacquainted itself with the main viewport, Vassyl's jaw dropped as he came to grips with the scene before him. Off in the distance lay Sembla, blanketed by a sizable dark shadow: a shadow which Doren instantly knew to be the outline of a Sith Dreadnaught. The incredulity of the moment was infectious, and the entire bridge crew stood dumbfounded at the presence of their old enemy. Finally, the Captain snapped back to his senses, and authoritatively boomed, "Don't just stand there! Get me a status report! Ready the main batteries! All stations to Defstat Three!". The timbre of Doren's voice indicated to his peers that the time for reflection was at end, and soon the interior of the Reverent sprang to life with terrific celerity. Marching from his usual post at the fore of the bridge, Vassyl swiftly migrated to the communications hub, and barked at one Lieutenant Clemens, "Send an open broadcast to our allies immediately: keep it brief, extend out as far as you can".

Clemens was hardly in a place to refuse his commanding officer, and with a messy salute soon set about his task. Traipsing back to where he started, Doren summoned his XO, and addressed him in a soft, yet intense voice, "Get the pilots to their ships: inform Lieutenant 33 that his unit is to launch as soon as it is able". Lieutenant Torbough offered a hushed, "Aye Sir" in response, and dutifully set about his new task. Finally, Doren spun on one squeaky heel to face his helmsman, and concluded with a hiss, "Take us ahead full, I want to give our guests a proper, personal greeting". Exhaling softly, Vassyl cautiously meandered as close to Kota as he could without perpetrating rudeness, and whispered into the side of her helm, "M'lady, you know this enemy far better than any of my staff and their instruments. I would entreat you, with the full authorization of the Admiralty, to reach out with your talents, and enlighten us to whatever information you may".

[33-5H4]

The hangar bay was buzzing with activity as dozens of droids swirled around, performing routine maintenance checks on a particularly special wing of factory-fresh Scimitar Assault Bombers. Dubbed Doren's Destroyers by the wing's commanding officer, the shining Imperial blue durasteel flashed proudly in the light. Amidst the flurries of astromechs and repair droids, a dense block of refurbished B-1 battle droids stood at attention. The standard Geonosian tan that was iconic of a war long past had been painted over with a dark blue-gray color common to Imperial metalworking, and further hidden by a slightly modified Imperial flight uniform that made their chassis appear more organic on the outside. In front of them stood a gleaming example of Imperial ingenuity and brilliance, and the personal pet project of the ever inventive commander that was Doren Vassyl : Lieutenant 33-5H4. The group stood still as statues as the livelihood of the hangar enveloped them; 33-5H4 was busy broadcasting a mix of Imperial propaganda and important flight data to it's pilot crew, none of whom could bear to miss a single word.

It was during this meditational session that the Reverent exited hyperspace and was greeted by a Sith assault. How convenient. As the alarms began to blare and the gears of war began to turn, the machine pilots of Doren's Destroyers took to their unscratched ships with an uncanny efficiency. When Lieutenant Torbough relayed his orders, the pilots were already almost ready for liftoff...

33-5H4 was among the first of the Scimitars to cross the threshold of the hangar and soar into the void. Taking in the sight of the hulking Sith warship, the commando droid quickly deduced several key points to hit while the Dreadnought was still focused on the planet below. Chief among them were the two rows of gigantic guns on the surface of the ship right below the bridge - letting those get a salvo off would not bode well at all for the Reverent and its crew. Spinning around into a more suitable trajectory, 33 was joined by it's robotic comrades as the Scimitars grouped up into assault formations and blitzed towards the heavy cruiser.

[Rahab Aapofi]

Like Kressara, Rahab had been a more recent acquisition of the Sith. She was nothing more than a 'hopeful'; which was what the Order called the force sensitives who occupied its lowest rank. The young woman had minimal flight experience, no prior battle experience; aerial or otherwise, and had very little desire to be in combat, at all. But she had known that it was only a matter of time before the dreadful day would arrive when she would be forced to fight in the name of the Sith.

Rahab hadn't expected that day to come so soon.

The march to Sembla wasn't her first time piloting by herself in open space. But in the craft she had been assigned, a Pursuer Enforcers under Warvanus command, the experience was entirely different. Nestled into the cockpit of the powerful machine, space felt so solid. It was exhilarating, terrifying and serene, all at once. The jump from between hyperspace to real space left Rahab with a pounding headache and she was grateful that Warvanus has wasted no time leading his fleets into something with friction.

[“This is it, we have a go, remember your-“]

She slammed the switches to all the communication channels in the off position. The last thing she wanted to hear was that bloodthirsty man's voice. Or any of their voices, for that matter. She knew what she needed to do with this machine. She would operate it and it would serve its purpose. Nothing more than that. The third and fourth squadron had the distinct pleasure in seeing their leader wobble about, threatening to tip before Rahab steadied her ship as they broke down through the sky above, under the Dreadnought that loomed above them like a massive thunderhead.

Her target and the target of the squadrons, which comprised of warships of equal caliber to hers, was the Nebulon B-2 frigate. She gunned the Pursuer Enforcer, attempting the first pass over the enemy ship. It was astounding to her that the jamming device was activated with a single switch. It was just one quick flick down with a single finger. She felt relieved. She also felt underwhelmed. She was afraid she was feeling more underwhelmed than relieved.

Rahab was conflicted. It was not as if she had a choice in the matter. But if she did, she would rather, in full honesty, not kill anyone. But she had enough time to convince herself that the people aboard these ships, in some way, deserved it. And the more time she had alone with this thought, the angrier she grew at the very notion of these people even being here. They would serve a substitute for the men who had dug their unwelcomed hands into the soil of her homeland. It made her blood boil and she could sink all of her doubts and submerge all of her fears into this anger. The Sith would likely do the same, if not worse, to this world when it was under their law but she just had to hold on to something to get this done. Block out the sounds of war around her. Focus on being angry. Just operate the machine.

She flipped her communication channels back on. If it was any consolation, this planet wasn't an ugly place to die on.

[Desade Pho]

Her wounds were not as bad as they were after her titanic battle on Braboon. This was much more docile, in comparison, but her well being was being looked after, and she appreciated that. She knew her soldier man was doing his best to keep her safe, even as he used her. That was the worst part, she knew she was being used. A weapon, hidden away, for some reason far beyond the grasp of sanity. But he had found her in the dark, and she was interested to see what his end game was. So she followed his command, went on his missions, and healed when she could. Which was why she was sealed off in the office of the medbay, her knife laid in her lap, as a doctor carefully tended the thin cut on her elbow. It was over in the blink of an eye as she sat on the edge of the table, long legs kicking back and forth as she hummed an eerie tune.

She was listening to the discordant sounds of the Force itself, felt the rush of Dark energies calling to her, and drank it all in. The Force felt off, though, as if something darker was coming. She had encountered that once before, when she had first met her soldier man. When she had clawed and lashed out at the monstrosity of a zabrak on the deck of a Sith warship. When she had seen another of her sisters. She knew what the woman with her staff of lights was now. Even if she didn't know who. She stopped moving, and that caused the doctor to freeze as well, terrified as to what her tenseness could mean. How many friendlies had Desade Pho killed?

"Leave now, with your metal pokes," she said, moving to stand, yellow eyes burning into the other woman's eyes. The doctor swallowed, and quickly moved to leave the room, which was all well and good, as Desade turned toward the black case she kept nearby when in a new place. She siphoned through it, and removed the pieces of her armor. The Dark Trooper armor she had worn in her last great fight was still being repaired, but the white scout armor worked well enough. She donned it quickly, tapping her chest with a light wrap, then slipped the helmet on, there was a red stripe across the armor's chest, denoting her as something other than a mere scout trooper, however, so no one would try to command her. Then grabbed up her E-web, the knife, a kitchen cleaver, being slid into a holster on her hip.

Touching her com, she smiled happily at the thought of something bad about to happen. What fun!

"Fear rises to Silence's side, and together they wait for the Dark to clash against the Dark," she purred.

"Annoyed acceptance: I understand Mistress, I shall follow your transponder," came the droid's voice over her com, and she moved from the medbay then, walking with a casual grace, down the corridors of the facility. She'd just have to wait for the alarms to start sounding.