SithLore

“Battle group, Report in!”

The VSD Wraith called from open space, near the wreckage that once was Dathomir. The dark planet buried and turned into an asteroid field by the third Desth Star now became the gathering place for the Empire’s 1st fleet.
One after another, captains of ships began reporting in.

“Brawler, reporting in”
“Hurricane, Reporting in.”
“Saber, reporting”
“Scimitar, reporting.”
“Domination, reporting.”
“Grey Wolf, reporting”
“Adamant, reporting.”

The fleet continued until the first battle group had fully reported in.

An admiral walked onto the bridge of the Wraith, hands clasped behind him.

“Men, women, imperials... we look today to a future. A future without insurrection, a future without enemies to the Empire, a future with peace throughout the galaxy... I am Admiral Hudgens, as many of you already know. And today, I am here to bring victory to the Empire, as with the rest of you. Let us bring the fight to this band of murderers and hooligans and no more have to worry about where in the galaxy they could be, and what they plan to do next.” He spoke.

Admiral Hudgens awaited confirmation that both battle groups were reported in, before he got word of one more ship on its way to join them.

“The Grand Inquisitor would like to attend this attack. Please wait for her ship to arrive before departing.” Came over the comm system to the admiral.

So, while they awaited the procedure that went along with preparations for such a bold offensive, the Admiral could only hope that the enemy didn’t move before the attack commenced. With their targets, a blink of an eye and their force could be halfway across a system. He hoped this was not the case...

The Bith captain braced herself against the back of the navigator's seat. It wouldn't do for her to lose her footing and sprawl across the floor if another impact came. To be sure, she corrected herself, another impact would come.

This had been a situation that the crew of the CEC Starcutter had drilled and prepared for, but being detected by an enemy patrol so far away from safety was proving to be a supreme challenge. Fighters were swarming, though the captain's vessel was better equipped to handle them than the IPV-1 System Patrol Craft that was pumping turbolaser fire into their aft. Fortunately, a lucky strike earlier in the confrontation had apparently disabled the security vessel's warhead launcher, but the enemy forces had kept pace with a series of shield-penetrating strikes of their own, forcing the captain to rebalance the failing shield projectors several times during the engagement. Blast doors had sealed off the worst of the hull damage, but the CEC Starcutter was nearing its limit.

"Absolutely no distress signal; we need to keep jamming communications," the captain ordered, responding to an earlier inquiry from communications as another stream of laser cannon fire tore into the waning shields, "Fire control! Get your guns on target, blast it!"

A damage assessment was now being given to the captain from the engineering chief. There was nothing further to be done with the shield generator; that system would lose all power within minutes. Without shields, the enemy patrol would make quick work of the ship's engines, and being stranded by the enemy and boarded was a real risk. The captain swallowed the fear that threatened to boil up in the back of her throat as that thought crossed her mind. There simply wasn't enough time to destroy the patrol, especially not with the way that her gunners were firing.

"Navigation, are we ready?" the captain asked, praying for an affirmative response as another rumble rocked the 120-meter vessel. When an affirmative was received, the captain ordered, "Engage hyperdrive."

The stars stretched into beams of brilliant light before the CEC Starcutter launched itself into the swirling blue vortex of hyperspace.
---

Upon being alerted to the incoming transmission, the admiral stepped over to the holoprojector and took the call. The Bith captain of the Corellian Gunship that had just limped back to the fleet stood at attention. Her face wore a grave expression to match the condition of her ship.

"Admiral, I regret to inform you that the enemy has been alerted to our presence..."

The Pathfinder was near the wreckage of Dathomir. She looked out of the view port, she couldn't remember when she had been here last. 'Not since...' she thought. "Ma'am we have reached the fleet." An officer addressed her. This was no time to remember that. "Patch me through." She said. Kota gathered her thoughts, she needed to address the fleet before they set off on their goal.

Broadcasting over the rest of the ships. "My fellow Imperials what we are about to do is destroy forces that have caused to much damage and have no regards for reason. This will be a grand day in Imperial history, know that we will not stop till the very last one of them falls." She said. After her speech she nodded to let them know that she was ready and it was going to be no restraint.

Keldabe-class Battleship The Azure Storm
Orbit of Ord Tellarom

Admiral Brakken's tremendous white frame shadowed the bridge beneath him, his pristine tusks, one white and one gold, glistening in the otherwise dim lighting. His mere presence was enough to ensure pin-drop silence; nothing but the blips and bleeps of the consoles and tick tacks of typing could be heard. In contrast to the stern quietude his domineering demeanor forced upon his subordinates, the snow-white Whiphid's mind was blaringly overwrought. He could not help but subconsciously go through the fifteen hundred ways that this entire operation could blow up in the Pirate Council's faces.

The shipment of Bulk Freighters and Action V transports had been loaded to the brim. Their primary transport was heavy machinery; parts of all shapes and sizes scavenged from starship graveyards across multiple backwater worlds in the Outer Rim where both Imperial and Alliance influence was minimal at best. Extracted by freelance scavengers, the scrap would find its way into the claws and tentacles of various junk bosses, many of whom were in turn funded and controlled by agents who, in turn, were quite unaware that they themselves were Blue Star Pirate assets. Long story short: scrap parts, disassembled weapons and all sorts of scavenged hardware thus obtained would all be transported via various proxies onto the desert world beneath them as part of a serpentine Blue Star smuggling operation. From thence, the contraband was to be escorted by Aurek Fleet to the rendezvous point.

It was an elaborate system. A well oiled machine, as it were. Yet, secrecy was paramount to its continued existence, and its continued existence was paramount to everything that the Pirate Council had set in motion. One mistake, a single unprecedented event, even so much as the wrong Sith getting indigestion and farting at an inopportune moment, and--

"Admiral Brakken, zir," the purple-skinned Twi'lek tactical officer spoke up suddenly, approaching the insanely tall Whiphid with a datapad in hand. Kalba Rage was still new to her post, though for the most part, the tusked biped had found her competent. If only she wouldn't be chewing betel leaves every time he regarded her with some semblance of attention...

"Well, speak up, lassie! I ain't got all day!"

The Twi'lek flinched, uncannily swallowing the betel leaf she was chewing on again. Brakken always did that to her; despite herself, he scared the poop out of her. He was also the only one in the galaxy who could even do so. "Ze Nightshades--I mean, Intelligence," she took a deep breath to calm herself and unsuccessfully attempt to wash down the taste of the leaf - she was supposed to have spit it out, dang it.

Brakken regarded the young Twi'lek with a look, and realizing she had pushed the strict disciplinarian's buttons enough for one day, the female continued. "... Our azteroid base in ze Quelli zector haz picked up zeveral Imperial ship movements. At leazt one battle group, maybe more. Zources say zey appear to be mobilizing for a military operation, but itz a developing zituation for now."

The Whiphid stilled. Okay, now that had the potential to be decidedly worse than the wrong Sith getting indigestion and farting at an inopportune moment. Now what could've suddenly bit the Empire in its megalomaniacal posterior? The Admiral of Aurek Fleet's body-spanning, snow white hair stood on end as he contemplated the possibilities and mentally undertook a swift risk assessment.

Finally, the stern disciplinarian spoke in his gruff, no nonsense tone. "Hail 'em and tell 'em to keep us updated on that front, Ensign. For now, we cont'a'nue our operation as 'tis; we got too much in the works for a sudden change o' plans, blast it!" the tall and imposing Admiral paused, released a sigh, and then shouted: "AN' WILL SOMEBODY TELL ME WHERE THE KRIFF IS KOLONES?!"

The entire bridge crew winced in unison, excluding the oblivious Starlock Kolones, Brakken's First Mate, who, half-stoned and hiding beneath the bridge platform, merely blew out another wisp of smoke from his spice-filled ciggara.

“Scans show it is tagged as the Starcutter sir!” The shouts came across the bridge of the Corsair Battleship Glaive IV with her sister ship the Glaive V just behind. The pursuit was being outpaced by the swift Gunship but the sleek Razorfighter group that was attached to this patrol were giving the rogue Starcutter a good thrashing. “Keep up the pace then.” Replied the captain, “These pirates cannot hide for much longer. Send in the contact report. If these reports keep bracketing these rogues then the fleet will be able to estimate their position and we’ll be able to surround them with any luck.” While the Corsairs had no hope in catching the Gunship, the faster IPV-1 and the fighters easily kept pace with it.

Replies came back quickly and the twin Corsair’s ploughed forward in the wake of the Gunship and the IPV-1 that was giving chase. As the pursuit craft made their claims across failing shields - the rogue Gunship shot off into hyperspace leaving behind scraps of damaged hull plating behind as the only evidence it had ever been there.

The captain slammed his hand on his chair, “Damn them!” Pointing angrily to his bridge crew he snapped orders. “Track them. Estimate possible jump points from here. We must find that ship!”

---HARBINGER COMMAND - GORDIAN REACH

Boots clanked briskly over the metal grates leaded up to the command throne where the Lord High Admiral sat. Arriving the page handed a wafer to his lord, bowed and retreated back to his station. The report was swiftly digested and Lidmor ran a hand to his chin in thought as he gazed upon the depths of a churning hologram of the Reach.

Several pin points were designated by dates and times and in reds. Contact reports of other ‘rogue’ craft. Rewarded after the Rhen Var battles, the Gordian Reach was affected with a ‘few’ missing convoys of import and the obvious reasoning was pirate activity. Of course any reasons held the truth. Industrial corruption, a rogue Sith Lord making moves on his own, damaged navicomputers, or any of a plethora of reasons. Lidmor however was convinced it was piracy and he was taking steps to eliminate it all by increasing patrols within the Reach. It took a strain on his assets but it also in turn gave the Sith Armada a much tighter hold on the systems within their reach.

With the Harbinger Command being the most flexible of the Armada’s arms, it was currently present to thwart the piracy efforts. However - the Soul Reaper Armada and the Subjugation Armada was yet close at hand to assist in the termination of larger cohorts if necessary.

“Sir, it seems that we have fleet movement in the area.”

The admiral was informed about a large fleet in the area, as he and the rest of the battle group awaited the rest of their forces.

“Check their origin, I want to know who it is. If we have documentation with them, I don’t want to void it in the crossfire.” The admiral said. He knew what was about to happen would be a huge event in the galaxy, it would be much worse than anticipated if there was a three-way battle here. He knew the plan was to take out all the enemies targeted in the plans, but he didn’t want wild cards in this endeavor, namely a local group that was known to cause trouble around the area, especially when the Empire is involved... though, he had to know if there was any paperwork stopping them from involving themselves now.

**Outer Rim Territories, Gordian Reach - Q-6**
**Korphir Trace**
**Corellian Gunship CEC Starcutter**

Admiral Idris was nothing if not decisive. Cresh Fleet had not entered enemy territory without believing that, somewhere along the line, their significant force would be detected. Fortunately, the fleet was not positioned in a somewhat advantageous position in order to make their escape. The Korphir Trace was a small hyperlane that connected the eponymous Korphir to Arkuda, and it connected to hyperlanes that Cresh Fleet could use to either lose a pursuing Sith fleet to the western reaches of the Gordian Reach, the eastern border, or even the southern routes that extended to the Salin Corridor. Idris' decision would be based on what intelligence the pirate fleet had on hand. Of course, the raids had been frequent and fruitful thus far, and yet no Sith fleet was knocking at Cresh's figurative doorstep. It stood to reason that the Sith didn't have their location pinpointed yet, even after Starcutter's mishap. Part of the reason for that was due to the blanket of security that the nebula known as The Roil provided. The pirates had only tapped the outer boundaries of its celestial soup, but that had been enough concealment to jump on a fair few cargo convoys or Sith patrols that happened to wander within reach.

This particular buffet of targets had gone cold, though, and Idris knew Cresh Fleet had to move. As her flat head swiveled to the Bith captain of the Starcutter, whose hull was now swarming with Combat Utility Vehicles, she said, "At least you made it back to warn us and your hyperdrive is still intact. Per fleet protocols, and since your vessel is not operating at full efficiency, I am assigning you to your own fleet detachment for protection. Your detachment will depart along the Junction-Tierell Loop. Good luck."
---
**Outer Rim Territories, Sertar Sector**
**Florrum System, Florrum**
**Ohnaka Gang Complex**

A lone Human strode the cracked, sulfurous desert, his arms held horizontally away from his body. He could practically feel the snipers' sights trained on him as he grew further away from the safety of his shuttle with each step. This was the Ohnaka Gang's territory, and both they and he knew well that the Ohnaka Gang owed nothing to the Blue Star Pirates. The only reason he was allowed to approach the round canyon was that, despite old Onhaka being long since gone, the gang he was named after still knew profit when they smelled it. At the very least, the hardened woman who led them knew, despite what her lieutenants might have advised.

The Human was searched thoroughly before being allowed within the complex that served as the female Weequay's domain. At one time, the Human had studied, the complex had been destroyed during the Clone Wars. Decades later, it still hadn't reclaimed its old glory, but the new structure was at least enough to keep the sulfurous spray of the planet's geysers off of the gang's necks. As a gang member with an open, bleeding sore on his face ran a scanner over the Human's face, they paused momentarily. The Human, through no choice of his own, had gotten a couple of teeth replaced after a rough night at the cantina years ago. In theory, an assassin could be hiding anything in a false tooth, the Human realized now, as the Ohnaka Gang member slid their dirty finger under his lip and looked at the Human's teeth. Calmly stepping back to extricate the unwanted finger from his mouth, the Human attempted to explain. In the worst case scenario, the Ohnaka gang would relieve him of his false teeth, as well as some of those that had been present since he was a child. To his immense relief, the Ohnaka Gang member smiled himself, causing his sore to ooze a bit more, yet revealing a mouth full of implanted replacements of their own.

The Human had been guided before the matriarch of the Ohnaka Gang now, and he bowed his head as a sign of respect. The Weequay, in response, scoffed and asked what the Blue Star Pirates wanted with her. The Human, well-rehearsed on this portion of the meeting, explained that the Blue Star Pirates wished to make use of Florrum. While the Ohnaka Gang would not be required to do anything to accommodate the pirates, they would be compensated for the trouble. The Human threw out a figure-- low, of course, but not low enough to offend or infuriate the Ohnaka Gang's leader. Her expression, though, told him that she wasn't willing to bite.

"Double it and I'll let Jay Mertaal have the other half of my bunk," the oily voice of the Ohnaka Gang's leader replied, before leaning forward and allowing a grin to stretch below her sharp cheekbones, "I am curious, though. What's stopping me from cutting off that face of yours and sending it back to him?"

The Human was all too prepared to return the smile. His upper canines had been replaced with two blue gemstones, giving the man a feral look when he chose to brandish his teeth and allowed them to dance in the light, "Darling, it would be a short trip. His fleet is already here."

Squadrons of StarViper-class attack platforms now filled the skies as they searched for a designated plateau to land upon. Support vessels followed behind, all guided by the command staff aboard The Azure Flame. Besh Fleet had arrived on location.

Sensors went off but they were trying to get a fix on who and where. Seemed like whatever repairs were made to her ship were not done so right. That didn't make her to happy, but there was nothing she could do about it right now. "To your stations, be ready." She said. Her own senses were up, she wasn't going to be blinded by anything unforseen.

Background Music
The Keldabe-class Battleship The Azure Storm
Hyperspace, Listehol Run

Never one to expose weakness of any sort, especially not to his loyal crew, no one would see or hear Admiral Brakken silently sigh in relief the moment his retractable eyes were blessed with the azure storms - excuse the pun - of hyperspace. The entire fleet, all vessels in tact, had without event and with their cargo holds filled to the brim, made the jump from the inconspicuous Ord Tellarom moments prior, and were now safely sailing down the Listehol Run. That counted as at least one bead of sweat he could now wipe off his furry brow.

While Captain Black'lek needed to make a small detour near the Wyl sector-Chorlian sector border to pick up Captain Rys and her tiny detachment, who had been reassigned under the Kingsmaker Protocols to Black'lek's command, the rest of the fleet was set to revert next not before crossing the very limits of the Run beyond Zygerria, in the no man's space in the heart of the Chorlian sector. Intelligence reports from all Blue Star Cresh-class facilities that had been set up over the past many months in the cael incognita that was the Rekkiad system had assured him that their arrival would be bereft of complications.

Brakken's snow white hair stood on end again in anxiety for what was to come. While the charts certainly placed their reversion point in Imperial territory, Rekkiad was effectively a frozen wasteland, Vaynai's remote location had attracted criminals and smugglers of all sorts for centuries, and Zygerria and her incessant slave commerce her been overlooked by the Empire and the Republic before them for far longer. The entire frakkin' Chorlian sector known for its near-lawlessness for eons! A pirate fleet popping out of hyperspace at the very edges of these systems wouldn't - shouldn't - couldn't! - set off any Imperial alarms.

What were their Cresh-class facilities even good for if they couldn't even secure a small patch of void for them out in the middle of nowhere, right?

"Hyperzpace reversion imminent in 1000 galactic ztandard hourz, Captain."

"... I'm gettin' tae old fer this."

— ✵ —
The Aggressor-class star destroyer Queen Amidala's Revenge
Zygerrian system outskirts, Wyl sector-Chorlian sector border

The fearsome star destroyer, painted pitch-black in the middle of an equally dark void, rose out of hyperspace. In the command chair above the bridge sat the one pirate who had literally carved his own name in blood across the high nebulae; Captain Black'lek. His white fangs bared and contrasted sharply against his silken obsidian skin, as the black twi'lek glared at one name in particular on the holocharts orbiting the bridge before his terrifying visage.

Zygerria.

It was so near, and the desire to crush the felinoid skulls of those who ran this galactic hive mother of slavery beneath his black feet. He dreamed of one day inundating their world in their own blood. His horrific mind went through the multitude of ways he knew how to disembowel a Zygerrian. No one in this galaxy hated those slavers - and all slavers for that matter - more than him. Zygerria was the heart of slavery all over the galaxy. One day, he would come for these furballs.

<They're aboard. Should be on their way up to the bridge now,> Long Jon Silwur, his Master Gunner, spoke up from beside him, his voice as always modulated by his Mandalorian helmet. The Mando's cybernetic silver legs clanged against the bridge floor beneath him as he turned to look in the direction of the blastdoors.

One day.

Not today.

The doors slid open to reveal their newest crewmen; Ashara Rys, former captain of The Luminis End, had been reassigned as her new first mate, and she had brought along a peculiar little specimen with her.

"Ahoy, Captain Black'lek," Ashara spoke softly, inclining her head in greeting. The far more notorious captain before her nodded his black head in acknowledgement, lekku twitching a bit as he did so, although his ghostly white gaze was presently on her Jedi associate.

Annan nodded in acknowledgement as well, a calm look on his face. Black'lek and the Jedi had already settled into a small glaring competition. No doubt, Eddvar d'Ti'ich gave even the Firrrereo the scaries, but his Jedi training did not permit him to exhibit his emotions. He could tell that Black'lek was judging his strength, and so, Annan met his ghost-white gaze with his own brilliant shamrock one.

Slowly, Black'lek's pointy teeth settled into an unsettling, wide grin. "Impressive. Most impressive. Ahoy and welcome aboard, then, our newest mates. The crew of the Revenge is no stranger to Lady Rys, but you, Jedi, are certainly a remarkable addition to our ranks."

The rest of the bridge crew suddenly sputtered into whispering gossip at hearing the word 'Jedi'. The loathing Annan could practically feel emanating from Long Jon Silwur, certainly, was intense. Eyes narrowed, the Jedi nodded silently to Black'lek nonetheless, who seemed more amused at his expense than anything else.

<... Well, if we're done with these merry introductions...> Silwur spoke up again, and that ended the tension aboard the bridge. He nodded at Black'lek, who merely closed his eyes in a silent order. Annan and Ashara traded a glance, both clearly wondering how they would settle into this terrifying band of miscreants, but still, Ashara walked forward to take the first mate's seat beside and below where Black'lek's was. Annan continued to merely stand where he was, grasping his hands behind his back. His eyes found the Mandalorian again as the latter ordered their rather dainty Pantoran pilot, "Bring a spring upon ‘er 'n' haul, Jekky."

Within moments, the dark void of the Wyl sector-Chorlian sector border visible in the viewport began to shift before quickly bleeding into a slick azure, the Queen Amidala's Revenge skipping back onto the Listehol to rejoin the rest of Aurek Fleet.

— ✵ —
The Keldabe-class Battleship The Azure Flame
Orbit of the sulfurous desert world of Florrum
Florrum system, Sertar sector

Captain Torbir smiled calmly as he ran his webbed hands down the three appendices arising from his chin that to any hairy humanoid would look akin to three beard braids. The yellow-skinned Mon Calamari was quite pleased at the report he had received about the Ohnaka Gang's willing cooperation. Promise of plunder and a subtle strong-arming was more than enough to convince most intelligent sentients in this business to cooperate. Besides, the Ohnaka Gang was not what it used to be; they probably needed this more than the Blue Stars.

Torbir watched the holocharts showing the flocks of StarViper squadrons, Nighthawk gunboats, T-wings among other vessels, landing gracefully on spaceports designated for them by the Lady Ohnaka, the larger star destroyers, frigates and battleships of Besh Fleet settling into a gentle orbit around the ancient world. The BSP Marauders would have begun establishing their mobile bases now, at strategic positions, and begun preparing themselves according to the Kingsmaker Protocols under the watchful slitted irises of Captain Pakar himself.

"Gotta hand it ta ya, Jay," Captain Mertaal's closest advisor and confidante muttered under his breath to no one but himself. "Ye really outdid yerself this time."

If only the legendary captain would show up himself every now and then, instead of being drunk naked somewhere in the bowels of the Flame with his two Weequay girlfriends and leaving Torbir in-charge of the ship and the rest of Besh Fleet.

The yellow Mon Cala merely sighed dejectedly at that thought.

"Kriffin' mammals..."

It was just a few minutes before the reports came in. The ship movement was by a group of pirates in the area, near the middle of the Gordian.

"Alright men, I doubt these pirates will present an issue. Battle groups! You have your targets. Make the jump to Hyperspace! Captains, I hope to hear of your victories soon. Launch the attacks!"

With that, all 3 battle groups from 1st fleet, fighter squadrons onboard, jumped into hyperspace, each with a different target.

The first battle group soared through hyperspace, approaching Kushibuh...

The second battle group made their way towards Arda...

And the third would soon arrive at their target, Yavin and its accompanying moons.

With this three pronged strike underway, the Empire hoped that the destruction of the cease-fire with the Sith would allow them to swoop in and steal the Gordian reach, and with an entire fleet of the Sith's still in the Tion cluster, Admiral Hudgens hoped for a decisive victory. And with these pirates moving, perhaps that will give the Sith another target to thin out trying to fight...