What credits can buy (open)

[Corran Vellar]

Captain Delvin stood on the bridge of the Haven Maker, jaw slack as the mighty Sith vessel and its accompaniment of fighters dropped from hyperspace and launched a surprise attack. The squadron of Y-wings zoomed by without a single laser fired as the bridge crew ran to their battle stations and waited for their captain to come out of his daze. For a moment it almost seemed as though he wouldn't as a the squadron of Pursuers began to close the gap between the Sith dreadnought and the Nebulon.

"Ah, captain!" Yelled the comms officer. "They've activated a jamming field, the Black Star is pulling away and making its way into atmosphere!"

The captain shook himself out of his daze and looked at the officer. "Good, they're no good in this situation!" He replied, the adrenaline surging through his body. "Raise shields, launch fighters and begin peppering those Pursuers!"

A moment later the two frontal fins of the Haven Maker began launching volleys of crimson energy at the incoming Pursuers as a squadron of Tie Interceptors and Tie Bombers launched from the vessels' hanger and set an intercept course for the Sith star fighters.

"Sir the VSD Reverent just dropped out of hyperspace and is moving to engage the Sith dreadnought!" Yelled the sensors officer.

"Oh thank the Empress," the captain exclaimed. "Set up tight beam communications as soon as they're within range!"

---------------

Meanwhile on the surface, Ryder's hovercraft sped through the gates of his newly minted HQ. Work crews moved about making finishing touches to their projects. His car brought him to the main entrance lobby where he exited and started up the steps. He was getting ready to enter when the facilities' alarms roared to life, his grey eyes quickly glancing around trying to figure out if it was some kind of drill. It took him a moment, but he spotted the people around looking to the sky and so he did and spotted the Y-wings painted in the colors of the Sith Empire.

"How..." he muttered before his years of training and survival instincts kicked in. He rushed into the facility. "Activate the shield generator!"

One of the engineers looked at the CEO, fear in his eyes. "But sir, we haven't tested it yet."

"No better test then one by fire!" Ryder yelled back. "It's the only way we are surviving this Sith invasion!" He turned one of the security personal. "Get everyone inside now and get that Imperial garrison topside!"

The engineer clearly understood, death by Sith bombing was no ones' dream way to go. The man sent the message up the tower using internal communications. Everyone held their breath for a moment that felt like an eternity and just as the Y-wings got within range a blue shimmer filled the sky as the dome spread out from the top of the tower.

Ryder let out a sigh of relief as he pushed his way back outside, the sound of muffled explosions echoing across the facility. "Get men to the laser towers," Ryder ordered as he spotted the first Imperial marine. The soldier nodded and began calling out to his fellow soldiers who began running across the field to the exterior wall. Red flashed reflected in Ryder's grey eyes as he looked to the sky once more, he finally poked the gundark too hard.

[Lady Kota]

"I can't see that many minds, I'm sorry. However I will do as I can and take out the dreadnaught from the inside. Draw their attention, they won't see me coming I promise. Have my ship prepared, I will need a pilot droid and don't contact me." She said as she walked towards the bay, her force mask dropped. The ripple in the force would be huge for those who could feel it. These new Sith had no idea who they were messing with.

Kota had a plan, she would use a power few knew she had much less recognized. The ship stood ready when she got there, it was a yt-2400 and a pilot droid waited inside. When she got in she began to meditate, this would either be a success or she would die. She knew she only needed to get on the dreadnaught, the rest would be easy for her. Kota took a breath as she began. (Meditation of immersion)

[Professor Mors]

Doren jaw dropped, and remained immutably slack as Kota proposed her plan and strode towards the exit lift. Vassyl was fully aware of the Grand Inquisitor's talents, but a single, or even multiple Sith was amateur hour compared to a fully-staffed heavy dreadnaught. Nonetheless, the Captain was equally consciousness of his comrade's stubbornness, and attempting to dissuade her from such action would undoubtedly prove futile. Indeed, all he could do was offer a crisp, genuine salute to Force User, and somberly commented, "Best of luck M'lady". Despite this quiet lull, Doren soon spun back about to face his staff, and boomed, "Prepare the Grand Inquisitor's vessel to launch immediately! I want it fueled by the time she reaches the hangar". Audibly exhaling, the flustered Captain traipsed over to his XO, and hoarsely added, "What's delaying the Black Lances Lieutenant?". "Reactor trouble Sir", a visibly shaken Vincent Torbough offered back, "It should be sorted out shortly. That said, there's something you should see".

Raising a cautious eyebrow, Vassyl looked down at the Lieutenant's datapad, and briefly scanned its contents. Somewhat puzzled, Doren prodded, "This is our emergency transmission, what of it Mister Torbough?". "That's just it Sir", Vincent continued, "Lieutenant Clemens says its failed to transmit". "Whatever do you mean?", Doren angrily carried on, "It's been several minutes now, by rights it should have gone through unless-". The Captain stopped midsentence and froze, an incredulous, mortified expression mounting on his face. "Helm! Full stop!", Doren whooped, causing heads to turn from every console. Exhaling more brusquely, Vassyl fought to regain his mental equilibrium, before addressing the bridge crew in a softer, yet equivocally serious tone, "It appears the enemy is jamming our relays: if we press the attack now, we cast ourselves into a solitary duel which we cannot hope to prevail. Caution is needed here".

In one swift movement, Doren's gloved hand nestled snuggly under his chin, as the Captain indulged a deeper vein of thought. Vassyl stood absolutely still, any movement betrayed only by the rise and fall of his chest. Without any significant support, the Reverent would quickly be overtaken by Sith Dreadnaught. At the same time, if raids were underway on the planet's surface, the Captain's fighter teams might be the best deterrent to a full-on siege. At the very least, the Imperials would have to keep tabs on the Sith force until aid could arrive. "Helm, initiate a portside turn: take us back along the edge of the gravity well", Doren loudly started, before setting his sights on the communications hub and continuing, "Prepare an away team of non-essential personnel, they are take my shuttle to Makem Te and update the local forces on our situation". "And send reinforcement from there?", Lieutenant Clemens quipped. "No", Doren coolly countered, "They are to relay our dilemma to Botajef".

"Botajef?", Lieutenant Torbough incredulously mimicked. "Indeed Mister Torbough", Doren calmly elaborated, "Elements of the Second Fleet are orbiting the system for refueling and training exercises. I intend to request their assistance while our own allies are deployed elsewhere, and I doubt Captain Karolson will be obliged to refuse us". Spinning back about to look his comms officer in the eye, Vassyl addressed him once more, "Be sure you mention our need of a carrier, Lieutenant Clemens, and insist that the Devastation be sent our way post-haste. In regards to Makem Te, any additional fighter screening they can provide will do quite nicely". "Aye Sir", Clemens offered back, mustering whatever genuine enthusiasm bubbled within. "Mister Torbough", Doren invited, "With me". The pair walked briskly astride one another until they arrived at the weapons terminal, prompting a confused Vincent to assert, "Sir, we aren't remotely in range of the enemy". "We're not attacking in this instance Mister Torbough", Vassyl knowingly cooed, "We're going to send a message to our wayward frigate. You studied military rhythm code back in the day yes?".

Vincent's perplexed grimace hardened for a moment, and was swiftly replaced with a disheveled scowl of realization, "You can't be serious Sir". "Like you said Lieutenant", the Captain countered, "We are out of range. Prepare a salvo angled at the Haven Maker's stern, stagger the firing rate so that our purpose is clear: the code shall be delta eta four". Rubbing a pair of overworked temples, the Lieutenant offered a tired salute in response, and quickly began dictating commands to the gunnery crew. After varied conversations and a dose of pacing, Doren finally returned to the fore of the bridge, and glared over at the Sith warship. "Black Lances have concluded maintenance Sir, launching now!" a shrill officer called out, eliciting a nod from their imperious superior. Soon, the Interceptors would catch up to Lieutenant 33's scimitars, combining their arms in such a way that would seriously harangue the enemy forces. "Batteries hot Sir", Lieutenant Torbough chimed in moments thereafter, provoking a small grin on Doren's face, who answered back, "One never can beat the classics Mister Torbough". Flicking his free hand forward, Vassyl's gaze leveled on the far flung Nebulon B2, and the Captain boomed hollered out, "Fire!".

[Desade Pho]

The Scout Commando walked through the corridors of the facility, coming to a hangar bay. Yellow eyes hidden beneath the lenses of her helmet, as she scanned the room, slowly. Ah, there were the sweet, sweet, joyous sounds of alarms. The joy of chaos. A figure moved to stand beside her, and her gaze shifted, she hadn't felt his approach, no life signs emanated from the figure beside her. For it was a droid, clad in form fitting leather, a blaster rifle currently held in his hands, four spindly arms extending from his back, ending in razor sharp points.

"Annoyance: I do hope that whatever this is has the common courtesy to let us kill them, I was sleeping," the droid said. Desade's nose wrinkled as she grinned, giving a sing song sort of giggle.

"Fear, you are eternal, you need not sleep," she told him.

"Rebuttal: But I do need to charge from time to time, let us see what is amiss-" the droid began.

"Darkness comes," she said, then moved, seeming to glide across the ground on light footsteps, the droid stared at her for a moment, before it followed her, the droid was an oddity, clad in leather that fitted to it as though it was skin-- human skin. Her crazy was hard to contain, even when hidden.

"Excuse me," she called out to someone official looking, her armor's stripe carrying with it the connotation of someone who operated outside the usual bounds of the chain of command, and that she would probably only, officially, answer to the admiralty in some way, shape or form. No one had to know that she only, really, answered to the Grand Admiral, Argus Kriaov. "I need to be where the fighting will be," she said, working on keeping an air of urgency and professionalism she was learning to fake. "Point me to it," she added.

[33-5H4]

The Scimitars barreled towards the Sith Dreadnought, binary chatter leaping through the comms channels as the droids talked amongst themselves. As the war machines on both sides began to stir towards one another, 33-5H4 noticed a fairly sizable amount of Imperial craft racing up behind them - the Black Lances were eager to join the fight. The Scimitars slowed their advance slightly to allow the TIE Interceptors to catch up to them - shifting into new positions before resuming their full-throttle charge. The Scimitars were fairly well covered by the Interceptors, the Imperial fighters forming a living shield for the bombers as they approached the optimal range with which to unleash their combined payload. Throughout the Scimitar wing rippled a burst of activity as the crew readied their weapons and prepared to release the Empire's wrath on the Sith cruiser.

(((Scimitars, assume optimal positions and . Empress be with us.))) the droid chimed as the bombers unleashed a barrage of proton torpedoes upon the dreadnought, red trails of light arcing through the void towards their single target.

[Slade Xandir]

There were smaller vessels attempting to distract him from the main vessel, and from such tedious attention stealing bombardments, Blood narrowed his eyes and pulled in two of his vessels.

"Kressara, Rahab, pull in from the formation and bring some of the squadron with you. Defend the mothership. We need to kill this little establishment while we can."

It was then under Blood's command, that the Naga Dread began letting lose extreme blasts upon the planet, reducing to shattered particles anything that got into the ray's way. The powering up and immediate fire of those blasts once ready were aimed at the multiple places they could be on the planet, squadrons of multiple ships buzzing and flowing past and around the onslaught. He would weaken or smash or batter something, damn it!

The other fighters that zinged around the Naga, half had kept close to Kressara and Rahabs's vessels as they engaged any ships that neared the Naga. Meanwhile, Raphael and Warvanus were handling their business, both preoccupied with their confirmed orders as they came.

[Raphael Xandir]

The Y-Wing Squadron turned for another run on the facility, unsure if there previous attempts were successful or not. It was evident by recent transmissions that the Sith were over their heads, they preemptively attacked as more defenses rolled out of hyperspace to end them. Raphael had questioned his fathers’ tactics in all of this up to this point, but had decided it was best to just comply for now. He would continue his bombing runs until the Lord said otherwise.

Turning the squadron around for another pass, Raphael noticed some unusual activity around the stronghold. Their defenses were moving about busily as the ships neared for another attack. Targets marked yet again, as they all released more of their bombs onto the planet below.

To his surprise, a blue shimmer appeared in the sky almost immediately after the bombs had dropped. They had put up a shield generator and it seemed the effort from the Y-Wing Squadron from here on out would be fruitless. Transmissions rang throughout as the rest of his squadron was surprised to see such a prepared base, but the young Sith was not. Another oversight from the Lord himself had put his whole squadron in a sticky situation.

Following the shield generators were the red flashes of the laser towers, pushing them back even farther. The surprise attack was over, they had cause some damage but now the enemy was prepared for whatever they would throw at them. The Y-Wing’s scrambled to evade the fire from the base as Raphael contemplated the orders he was issued. The Empire was tightening the grip around their attack and it seemed pointless to continue.

It was then that Raphael decided he needed to start issuing orders of his own, as it seemed his father couldn’t do right in this situation. This was another instance of his fathers’ ineptitude in leading; Raphael needed to take control and fast. Sith ships were falling left and right, orders had to be issued.

“We have to evacuate! All ships, form up and maneuver back to the Naga,” he declared, issuing a transmission to the whole raiding party.

Raphael would surely not hear the end of it once this was all over, that is if they even could make it out of here. But first they had to make it out of here, back into to space. Thrusters moved upwards to head back to the Naga, hoping the towers didn’t destroy them as they went.

[Slade Xandir]

Blood watched as the squadrons heeded his Son's call, much to his ire. He knew rage would, as it did, boil in a writhing foam of acidic loathe as he watched his forces follow and trail back. They had come so far, barked 'treed' and turned tail to retreat. Blood, to avoid a back and forth of confusion amongst his masses, said nothing in the direct of the mic. Instead, he motioned to Lidmor who brought back the forces as he flicked his hand in the 'Forget it' or 'Get it outta' here' gesture. His irritation was only escalated as there was word through the comms from the fleet pulling back from the planet.
Damn Imperials.

"My Lord, there is a transmission coming through, somewhere from enemy communications. It's weak, but understandable in the least."

A growl surfaced from his lips.

"Put it through."

[Professor Mors]

Vassyl's lip twitched with confusion. In no time at all, one of the Sith's waylaid fighter groups had retreated from the surface, and was quickly speeding back towards it home carrier. The question remained: why abandon the sacking of the surface? Doren's thoughts hung on this point for some time, until an unseen light glinted behind his eyes. Stepping over to the bridge's primary holoprojector module, the Line Captain produced his strangest orders to date, "Lieutenant Torbough, I want all wings to stand down at once: use an older system if necessary, ping them if you have to. Lieutenant Clemens, prepare to a tight-beam signal, maximize our odds of broadcasting a single recording across the system". A somewhat incredulous Clemens worked to do as was commanded, but Doren's XO couldn't abide by the cryptic nature of his superior's whims. "Sir, what's our strategy here?", Vincent inquired, "Who do we anticipate will hear us?". With a chuckle, Vassyl leveled an accusatory finger out the main viewport, the gloved tip hovering just below the bow of the Sith Warship.

"We're going to have a little chat with our guests", Doren explained softly, prompting a small eruption from his right-hand man, "Sir! That's ludicrous! There's no reasoning with them!". Vassyl cast a sympathetic glance over at the Lieutenant. There was a grain of truth in what he said. At the same time, reinforcements or not, cat and mouse games or otherwise, if the Reverent engaged the Sith right then and there, it would surely be destroyed. "We must try Lieutenant", Doren continued on, a measure of unease permeating his voice. Much of Vassyl's career had been spent in a martial dance around the specter of the Sith. More than any other given enemy, Force Sensitve zealots were in a league of their own. Under any other circumstance, trying to make a case would have been moot: however, ever a Sith had some grasp on logic.

Exhaling softly, Doren received the all-clear from his staff, and began the diplomatic prelude, [Unidentified Sith vessel, this is Line Captain Doren Vassyl of the Imperial Navy, commander of the Victory-Class Star Destroyer Reverent]. Vassyl was sure to leave out his broader rank within the Empire, lest the rogues felt inspired to attempt a boarding operation. Straightening up, the young Jaeman continued, [Correct me if I'm wrong, but it seems you did not attack this system with the intention of conquering it. Rather, it is infinitely more likely this was intended to be a simple raid, tasked with destruction and looting]. Curiously, the Captain pondered why the Sith would make use of such a large cruiser for what would otherwise be a small scale assignment. Nonetheless, Doren wasn't about to provide a disrespectful, and moreover, instructional lecture to his long-time foe.

[We do not believe], Vassyl asserted, an air of authority whisking round his voice, [That you came to this system in anticipation of a fleet battle. If it came to that, you would undoubtedly prevail over us]. Doren's hand balled into a fist, as his volume peaked, [However, we have already sent a liaison outside of the jamming field, and it has assuredly contacted our allies in the neighboring sector!]. Strong, the Captain had to appear strong, to be a pillar for his staff, [While you may attempt to disable and destroy this vessel, it shall be no easy task. We will evade you at every turn, and fight to the very last if it means keeping you pinned down in this gravity well!]. Doren paused and took a breath. As his complexion softened, he moved to conclude the proceedings, whilst all Imperial eyes remained fixed upon him, [What I'm offering is a deal, for our mutual survival. Deactivate the jamming field and quit this engagement. Leave here without further molestation, and I will not only recall all of our fighters, but also ensure that you are not pursued back to the Reach. This is my only offer, and the best chance either of us has].

[Slade Xandir]

"Unidentified Sith vessel, this is Line Captain Doren Vassyl of the Imperial Navy, commander of the Victory-Class Star Destroyer Reverent,"

Immediately Lidmor turned an undeniable shade of crimson as he listened to the transmission, himself. Like a shark to blood, the Sith Lord tasted the immediate awesome level of hatred that poured from the Admiral, and almost like a treat it assisted in pulling the Sithian back from the grasp of full on fury. The Dark Side treated him well.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but it seems you did not attack this system with the intention of conquering it. Rather, it is infinitely more likely this was intended to be a simple raid, tasked with destruction and looting."

Lidmor cursed under his breath, his temple pulsing with a heated vein under his uniform's hat. "That pompous smartass."

Continuing to listen after relieving himself of a tickled chuckle, he found himself entertained by this Captain, but moreso by the reaction it prodded out of the always-stiff Admiral of his. The rest he listened to, his humor being not only peaked but his internal inferno relinquished it's bright indignation. He appreciated negotiations, as it proved his foe had more than just a simple mind of defense "What I'm offering is a deal, for our mutual survival. Deactivate the jamming field and quit this engagement. Leave here without further molestation, and I will not only recall all of our fighters, but also ensure that you are not pursued back to the Reach. This is my only offer, and the best chance either of us has"

The words had been given, and just mere seconds before the transmission ended, Lidmor threw his words out there with as much control as he had left. "My Lord, this is nonsense. That narrow-nosed lout has no business making arrangements with us as though he knows anything about our own strategies. He said it himself our forces reign supreme in comparison to his own on front of this planet. His reinforcements notice could be a bluff to make us fold a victory! Or even a manner of time stalling so if they were called, they could have arrival time to meet and outweigh our own challenge!" Blood knew how wise the Admiral was, especially in context of spacial warfare, but Blood knew by instinct that this man was not ruled by logic, currently; he was enamored by his feelings, and that wicked level of loathe wasn't going to make Blood see any sense in pursuing this matter, whether it be victorious or a hoax.

"Release the comm board from single-sect lines; I wish to reply."

Lidmor looked incredulous at this notion, steam nearly coming out of every orifice. But knowing he had no place to turn this situation away from what it was becoming, Lidmor turned curtly on a polished heel, and stamped away to busy himself doing the ordered task. Blood could here the remnants of grumbling, but it wasn't loud enough for him to completely decipher any of it. Yet in his cooling heart, he knew it to be swears up and down the Imperial Captain's name.

As the beacon flashed and systems broadened their transmission reach, he was confirmed in ability to respond to the Imperials. A smooth baritone met his earpiece, reverberating through the lines of radio between them.

"As confirmed, you see us as we see you, Captain. But unlike the stereotypical Sith, we deliver messages with as little casualties as possible. However, considering this conversation of ours stalls time and gives your reinforcements chance to chase their call, there is no longer a use for us to be here."

This voice obviously did not belong to Tormentous, but to a new Sith ruler. Someone who was not set on simply destroying things for the simple act of instilling fear. Not yet, anyways. How can you bring forth harm with a babe's touch? Schemes poured crisply through the mind of the Sithian, and folding his arms against his chest, he continued.

"It is clear I am not the enemy you are used to, and that is something we have purposefully proven, today. Just as this situation details, we have plenty of ways to obliterate, but when the cause weighs less than the takeaway, things prove less valuable. This planet is a prime example. Though it is near our territory and we do not take well to neighbors, we will allow it to be this once as we heed your offer."

Taking a slight breath, Blood returned to speaking. "Gravity well or not, this planet goes nowhere, and neither does our determination to reap lives as we see fit." Blood knew well enough that if he fell to the onslaught they could have had today, another would take his place and wreck just as much if not more than he had. It was just the way of the Sith. And truly, the Imperials were not the only ones with reinforcements on standby. Several comms had been primed for sendout should they need them, and all it took from Blood was a simple word. Considering they were so close to their own home turf, their reinforcements would arrive not only in such magnitude, but with haste that shortened distance of travel allowed. He didn't fear the repercussions...not the way the usual sane man should in the name of self preservation.

"As gilded as it may seem, I respect your honesty. It takes humility to see the box from outside of one's own view, and it seems we are not too far from seeing eye to eye on similar matters. There is much to be done, and it involves the both of us. In name of your offer, I offer my own. But it will be more detailed once you and I have a sit down. By then, you will have my name and what I represent. Until then, the Red Cauldron bids you farewell."

As he clicked the cancel selection on his mic, he instructed his forces to return home, and one by one all of the squadrons pulled from the Imperial's sight, taking speed and time in mind as they danced out of the reach of the planet and sped through the expanse of space.