SithLore

Rhoden walked into the Hydra’s briefing room and looked around. He looked not at the familiar faces of the other Inferno Squad members, but at the faces of one Lieutenant Solle Ozrok, and a very peculiar droid wearing an Imperial officers’ uniform, 33-5H4. Also sitting around the table were the pilots of the Hydra’s Phantom and Starwing squadrons and one of 33-5H4’s bomber squadron.

Rhoden took his own seat and pressed a button on his control panel, a star system appeared floating above the table and the image zoomed in to show a small moon and a nearby asteroid field. “I’ve asked you here today to undertake a strike operation against a Rebel training facility.” he said, without preamble, “This facility trains pilots for X-Wing’s, A-Wing’s, and Y-Wing’s.” Rhoden continued, “We’re going to destroy it.”

He pressed another button and colored dots appeared on the holographic image, “We’ll be heading in with a single squadron from Lieutenant 33-5H4’s bomber wing, Task Force Inferno’s own Phantoms and Starwings, and Lieutenant Ozrok’s Avenger.” Rhoden said. “The base houses one squadron of X-Wing’s and one squadron of A-Wing’s as well as an undetermined number of training squadrons. The base has limited point defense installations and only two turbolasers, but the majority of the base is underground.” Rhoden manipulated controls showing several hangars embedded in the side of a cliff face within a trench-like ravine on the moon’s surface.

“Once we’ve cleared the fighter threat the ATR transports can land with minimal threat and deploy stormtroopers to destroy the base from within. The transports will also provide support should the enemy manage to call in reinforcements.” Rhoden concluded.

“Are there any questions before we begin?” he asked, looking around at everyone. He had called in 33 because the Hydra wasn’t assigned any bombers of her own, and Solle was a formidable pilot who would hopefully prove a useful addition to the strike force. He could theoretically take the Hydra in along with all the fighters and assault the base, but he didn’t want to risk the arrival of unanticipated reinforcements. The fighters could make a far easier getaway than the Hydra could. As it stood he already had to bring it in-system under cover to deploy the bombers, he didn’t want to risk much more than that unless absolutely necessary.

The forward observation post had the looks of a pirate hideout meshed into a tomato. It was the least glamourous posting in the Alliance, and that said a lot. Yet, it was one of the most vital. It wasn’t meant to be detected. It wasn’t meant to be seen. It was meant to see and report. That was the only reason it was so close to the front. Yet that wasn’t its only purpose.

No standard patrol. No frigates tucked in a crater. Rock was its most reliable shield. A low energy output its cloak. Concealment it’s most potent defense. Yet it bore a few teeth and a large helping of spit.

Zechs stood in its ample hanger, wondering who thought this place was a good idea. A full battlestation could have done the job and more, but it would have been able to go toe to toe with an Imperial aggressor. This post’s shields could take some punishment, but they were underpowered. The few weapons emplacements might give fighter pilots soiled britches, but a capital ship would shrug them off.

The post, at least, had a decent number of squadrons assigned to it to perform recon operations and serve as an emergency response to civilian craft passing through the general area that might be harassed by less civil Imperials. X-wings. A-wings. Some older Y-wings. There was even what looked like a squadron of E-wings tucked into the corner. It was a compliment that would make a MonCal blush with pride.

The question was why was an Admiral of no one here. Zechs was sure he’d find out eventually. He had only just arrived and was awaiting the post’s commander to reach him. If that was it, it would have been odd but easily dismissed. Then he noticed he wasn’t the only one dragged out to the middle of nowhere either.

Something was up. He didn’t like it.

Neive kept an open eye as his Trilon aggressor approached the asteroid field, the fightwr easily moving between the hunks of minerals and rock as he made his way through.

"Activating cloak... Undetected. Perfect."

Neive gave one more look to the empty radar on his computer before turning and approaching the small base sitting on the larger of the field's contents of asteroids.

Neive brought his ship into port, docking before an airlock trapped his ship inside before depressurizing the room and filling it with oxygen. Neive thought for a minute before he stepped out of his ship and walked towards the doorway that led out to the rest of the base, an iron mask in his hand.

"Why such an assignment like this, I wonder..." Neive. Looked at the mask, the past uses of it, the things it must have seen...
It's atrocious, he thought. Such violence for no purpose.

Neive walked into the main hangar, seeing an admiral looking out around the base. Who was in charge here anyways, Neive wondered. Perhaps the admiral would have answers.

"Admiral," Neive apoke as he approached the man, the mask in his hand at his side as he spoke. "Have you been briefed on the situation?"

Jedi Rainwalker walked down the hallways of the training facility, inspecting the compliment of different starfighters arranged in the hanger. Why was he here? For some reason, the young Jedi Knight could not recall at all. In fact, he had not been informed why he was brought to this facility. The raven-haired Jedi had been ready to depart to the Outer Rim to scout for more worlds that were strong with the Force, or for ancient Jedi relics.

Somehow, while he was preparing to do that, his white-haired friend had dragged him all the way here.

The rest of his crew was here too. Scurrying about some place in the relatively small place. The Droids were probably just looking for recharging ports, though. In any case, from the distance, the black-clad Jedi saw a partially familiar figure approach Zechs. Whom said thought was an Admiral.

Ani snorted at that, before walking forwards to stand by Zechs in any case. Of course, this wasn't the first time that people had mistaken Mister Merquise's rank. Ani himself had considered him a 'Captain' for quite some time.

"Admiral. I didn't know you'd been promoted, 'Captain'."

It was then that Ani truly paid attention to the figure standing before him. He placed a hand on his chin; this Zabrak sure seemed familiar, but Annan could not recall if they had ever properly met or not.

"I'm going to assume that I won't be flying alone in this mission?" Solle finally spoke, his joking demeanor, showed as he laid unprofessionally on his seat. "I know I'm partying up with tin can over here" Solle gestured to 33-5H4 before continuing "But I need at least two more fighters to fly beside me, because I know tin-can over here is gonna need all the help he can get for this mission". Solle paused before continuing " My question is there any communication towers or anything that would allow the enemy to call for back-up? If so, just point me to them and I'll quickly finish them off before they can say "Help" to their friends." Solle chuckled a bit at his own joke.