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| - 'Star Wars: Episode I: Rise of the Sith - Part 1: Ord Vaxal' The pall of moodiness that had descended upon Enb'Zik over the past weeks had lifted abruptly some three days prior to this one. Contacts the Sullustan had made over the year had passed information to him that had give him something to think about that /didn't/ involve the disappearance of his family from his Imperially occupied homeworld. A report of refugees being sold into slavery on Ord Vaxal had been more than enough of a distraction to get him suited up and into his fighter to investigate. "Alright, Snarl," he murmurs, eyes on the countdown clock embedded in Ranger One's rear console, "Coming out of lightspeed in fifteen seconds." In times like the recent ones, the Jedi initiate's Horansi wife had been like a rock for him, helping keep him anchored among tumultuous events. He glances through twin layers of gold-hued canopy at the back of her head, passing a brief second in gratitude for that. "The way I understand it, Ord Vaxal is as lawless as Ord Mantell used to be. I wouldn't expect it to tame so easily, but it's got some quiet places, too. Away from the cities." The timer continues to count down, and Zik pulls back on a lever at the right time. Eyes on his controls, he looks up to peer past the canopy again, confirming their arrival at the new system. Although she assumes that his attention is elsewhere, Snarl nods absently as the Sullustan's voice reaches her through both her own ears and the comlink headset that seems attached to her head more often than not. "Might as well be ready for trouble as not," the Horansi rumbles as she shifts to utilize the turret guns if they run into any attackers. She isn't a terrific shot, but she can at least hit the broadside of a star destroyer on a good day. Starting as a pin-prick and slowly growing into an impressive orb representing the planet, Ord Vaxal, it reveals itself to indeed be there hanging in the darkness. However, around it near its largest population center was something that shouldn't have been. Further out from the world was the wedged shaped sellouts of a few war ships, surrounded by countless other models. Explosions light up the region and laser fire from turbolasers and the streaking tails of missiles fill the blackness between two massive battle groups engaging one another. Ord Vaxal, seems to have found a sizable defense fleet in ships that were heavily modified and some centuries old. The attacking group shows its organization in tight patterns with precise shooting and discipline. Of all the ships, leading the charge was one that was unique. A black ship, its hull twisted and redesigned to look different than its base model. The Dark Presence was not known to very many sentient beings as the new flag of a Sith Lord, but those around this system were impressed by it, as it was clearly the dominate feature in the orbit around this world. Darkness, fear, hatred, glory, emotions of the battle spread across the spectrum as in moments thousands of beings were losing their lives. Among the living and dead a squadron of ships of a dozen analogs streak toward Ord Vaxal led by a X-wing, "Pull tight. Move to position three. Terrik, take your group and move to intercept those Y-wings. Booster, stay on my tale we're going to put an end to that Corvette harassing Leviathan squadron." A series of: "Roger" and "Confirmed" followed. The squadron breaks into its battle groups and moves, ion engines flaring in every direction. Enb'zik's ship has not been registered yet, but detection was eminent. "Easy on those guns, Love. I'm not even putting the shields up," Zik murmurs, his voice calm, "Independent systems get nervous when warships like this one show up pointing guns at people. We're just one fighter and not a threat, but it puts us on bad foot--" As that tiny ball grows larger, his words are stopped by a different warning, from the Force itself. There is a surge of dread that he recognizes as the buzzing of danger, followed by all of those raw, visceral emotions. Without another word, Zik reaches over and toggles the shields, activating them. "Okay, ignore everything I just said and stow it for later," he calls through the comms to the front seat. "What is going on here?" Ikihsa switches modes on several of his controls and takes a look at the scanner display, then lifts his head sharply. His eyes fall upon the Dark Presence, and the tone of his voice changes, "That's Malign's ship." Zik's training urges him to accelerate to attack speed, in turn making himself less of a target, but for a moment he hangs back, watching, reaching into the Force for insight. Eying the flashes of light in the distance, Snarl flattens her ears out sideways as she mutters, "Sometimes I hate being right." More than likely the massive cat will always be preparing to defend from attack just because it's in both her training and her very nature. Often times it serves her well even if it does tend to leave her a little jumpy. "Rodger that," the big cat growls back to her mate. She's already as strapped in as she can get, so she focuses on being ready to defend and leaves the worry of piloting to the one capable of handling it. A Dreadnought explodes into nothing but debris, several fighters find themselves fireballs, and a Sith escort frigate cracks in half. This representing just a few seconds of the battle as the Pirate clans and Sith engage. It appeared they had a planetary shield, it's defense only extended as far as the boundaries of their chief city but it was enough to be a burden, "Viper, Behemoth squadron target the planetary defense shield's generators-Standby for telemetry data." The calculations were done on a communications vessel as well as a few sensor arrays picking up ground data transmitting and spot-piecing together a strategy for Sith fighters. The messages were sent and within moments the mission was being executed. The Dark Lord smiles, "All to easy. Admiral, begin landing ground troops-" Malign pauses as he picks up something in the Force and on his sensor board "-incoming ship is to be marked hostile." The benefit to the Sith armies vast majority of soldiers being droids begin to show their benefit as instead of being launched in troop carriers, the Sith army is fired toward the planet in containers shaped like missiles. The flare of thousands of new ion trails pointed toward the planet and heat signatures from atmospheric contact fill the front ports and data streams of Pirates and Sith alike. Now, as the battle begins to turn, the fighting continuing. The Sith turns his attention to one Enb'Zik, "Corvette support ship 357-1 turn guns to sector 34 and open fire." Malign orders the fighting from his X-wing as he turns toward the new ship as well with quite some distance to make up before there could be a genuine fight. As ordered a ship closest to Zik turns to brandish its broadside guns at the Sullustan and Horansi, without any hesitation they flash to life filling the area with plasma. Insight comes quickly. The Star Destroyer is Malign's, yes. So is the X-Wing, he now realizes. Enb'Zik's hands don't wait now for his mind to put the rest together. His right gauntlet wraps around the ship's thrust control and shoves it forward. His left hand brings the weapons fully online, then swiftly goes back to the stick as the nimble fighter surges into action. "He's landing an army," the Sullustan reports to Snarl. For a moment as Zik pushes Ranger One into a steep, rolling dive that makes the stars spin wildly around them, he considers the wisest thing they could possibly do right now -- leave. If Malign has any kind of interdiction in the system, that could quickly become very difficult. With his ship now under fire already, he'd have to get out of dodge NOW to take the least amount of damage. But fleeing now would leave his mission unaccomplished. His 'investigation' into questions of slave trade had instead turned up more questions. Why were the Sith here? He could report their activity back to the Jedi Temple from the safety of Caspar. But a hundred more questions would rise with no answers forthcoming. A nudge from his instincts confirms it: running away isn't the right option. The Sullustan's face hardens, then smooths out, along with the ship's trajectory. The stars stop spinning as Zik lines his ship up with the planet for a brief second. "Snarl, this is going to get rocky. Lay me down some cover fire on that enemy corvette while I move us toward Ord Vaxal. We're going to have to go in." It looks for a second like a straight shot to the planet, with appropriate weaving, will be possible. Then a warning light marks a certain X-Wing heading their way. Zik suppresses an oath and urges his Mantaray forward. Maybe -- /maybe/ -- he can get down before Malign is on them. He's not betting for it. Perhaps to her credit, the Horansi represses the startled shriek she would have deafened Enb'Zik with only a year or two ago as the Ranger goes into a tight spin. There's a grunt heard through the comlink and then silence as Snarl closes her eyes to keep from getting sick to her stomach as the ship's artificial gravity exerts more force than is comfortable for a moment. That and she'd rather not observe the swirling of the stars out ahead of her. As the ship steadies, Snarl's golden eyes snap open again as she prepares to open fire. Her long tail flips and coils behind her as though it were an agitated serpent with a mind all its own. "Roger," is the simple growled response from the Horansi would-be gunner as she points her weaponry at the sizable corvette and lets loose with heavy fire. The Sith Lord continues on his path but was meeting resistance from pirates and smugglers alike. He was on a few hit list, Snarl's firing on the Corvette was enough to buy them a single second of time, just enough to punch through and move toward the planet among the chaos. This was in many respects strategically solid. As long as the battle served as a distraction a planet was something large enough to hide on, and even if Enb'zik didn't know, fate knew that Malign would be much too busy administratively to devote time to the Jedi's capture or subsequent torture. Many things were a foot. He would still chase the Sullustan to the ground though. A silent flip of the switch, a steady aim, and then a proton torpedo was delivered in the direction of the griffon fighter. Elsewhere the battle was begging to show its wear and tear, the Pirate's resources were not designed for sustained front line battle and the Sith military forces though fewer in number showed superior military tactics and pressed the charge. The Dark Presence turbolasers ring to life firing several light volleys ahead of the droids opening large swaths in the jungles and wooded areas below for their impact pods. Everything was going to plan, the battle in space would come to a close, and Malign expected the battle on the ground wouldn't last very long once space superiority was secured. A battle experienced droid army versus mere pirates and smugglers, this was the reality of a Sith victory. The weight was now on Enb'zik and Snarl, to get to the planet's surface and undercover before there were no large distractions to keep them cloaked. Ranger One, fortunately, is an exceptionally fast fighter. In the wake of the Empire's newest TIEs, the modified Mantaray had proven one of the few ships that could still best the Imperials in speed. Now, Zik calls on that speed to get him and Snarl toward the planet. "Good shooting up there," he calls up to Snarl. In the background of his voice over the comms, a warning buzzer can be heard. It draws his quick gaze, "Alright, hang on. Torpedo incoming!" He doesn't expect Snarl to hit a /thing/ now, as her target Corvette abruptly swings away from her guns' firing arc. The tiny ship is suddenly evasive as Zik tries to outfly the dangerous projectile and still keep them on course. It is typical of his flying style that his voice remains so calm. He is tight, his tone tense, but he isn't new to combat. Even if this is a startling large fight. And then, it occurs to him that it /is/ /TRULY/ large. When did Malign /get/ these forces? And where? It wasn't a secret that Ord Vaxal was well defended. But Malign's forces... Somehow Enb'Zik hadn't realized the extent of them. Even as Enb'Zik compliments her insane shooting tactics, he most likely gets an earful as Snarl continues cussing out everyone crewing the corvette as well as insulting their mothers and questioning their paternity; barely pausing for breath in the process. Seems she can get a little rabid with so little to do besides point'n'shoot. As her target pulls out of range, the Horansi screams a few more obcenities at it before pausing to catch her breath. The battle in space was winding down, pirates with the will to fight were now outgunned and outmatched. Does without the stomach to continue flee or surrender. The cannon fire of moments ago was slowly growing silent and space was seeming to calm down as the Sith configuration was moving into a defensive position around the planet to hold or blockade it. Malign monitored this and the troops being deployed on the ground a few units meeting some minor resistance. What would be difficult would be to see how his armies would hold out against the Ord Vaxal's fortress itself. A siege might be what occurs next unless his command structure had other plans. As Zik's ship grows closer to the atmosphere, the Sith Lord's questions only begin to formulate. He breaks pursuit to ponder, "Admiral you have command. See to Ord Vaxal." he turns his X-wing back toward the Dark Presence as his squadron begins to form behind him. Why was the Jedi here? What brought him to this place, at this time? He would have to look over records and trace a history. This was not a good omen for the Sith for the galaxy at large to see these operations or what he could field. "Keep me informed on the situation on the ground, remember our objective is capturing the world, not destroying it. Exercise some restraint. Focus on the major points, small villages of pirates and smugglers have no meaning to me or our efforts here. Once the world is completely secured we can consider what to do with the fringe groups." The Sith had taken space, but the planet was far from decided. Malign's X-wing finds itself back inside the Dark Presence in a few moments and the Sith Lord himself chooses voluntary isolation to meditate on the events that transpired. For the course of fifteen more seconds, Enb'Zik's piloting and Force skills are both tested. Malign's torpedo has a smaller thruster but a /lot/ less mass than the Mantaray. Each time the Sullustan straightens out his path, the weapon begins to catch up quickly. But juking too much endangers the probability of getting to the envelope before Malign gets to him. Hands that have memorized their way around a dozen ship classes' consoles quickly set shields to double-aft, just in case. Flying at top speed now, the Ranger One races toward Ord Vaxal while her pilot counts down ticks. "Come on. Come on," he murmurs to himself, "Your range has got to be running out." He checks the scanner, and the missile is yet closer. Zik suddenly hauls the ship backward into a hard climb. The torpedo explodes in their wake at very near range, shaking the fighter and setting off a series of shrill alarms as the shields drop to a startlingly low level. Ikihsa silences the alarms and checks the scanner for Malign's X-Wing, expecting it to be getting within range of lasers by now. When he finds it gone, he frowns at the unexpected. "He's gone in," he reports uncertainly to the cat in the front seat. Leveling out the Manta's vector, Zik pushes the ship toward the planet again and heads for ground. "I have a bad feeling about this." Although she handled the previous spinning maneuver fairly well, the Horansi lets loose with a surprised caterwaul as the detonating torpedo shakes the Ranger. Her carrying on continues only marginally longer than the shrill alarms of the ship and then there's silence again. At Enb'Zik's information concerning the Sith, Snarl simply mutters some obscenities in her native tongue and makes a rude gesture in the direction of Malign's ship. "I fail to see how anyone could have a /good/ feeling about it," she growls. "The sooner we are down and camoflauged, the better." The surface of Ord Vaxal is intact and the impact of the soldiers being launched and deployed is little to none on a planetary scale. The armies of the Sith would move to high population areas first leaving the smaller areas alone for now. The marching of droid soldiers and their heavier armors would thunder across the distances of the world near its cities and prepare for the long siege and fight to take the world down. On board the Dark Presence, the space operations were coming to a close. The Sith Lord moves into his private council chambers and signals for a holoprojector to activate showing the sector. Everything was going according to plan, the world Ord Vaxal would take on a role in his hidden empire, and the slaves sold and traded here would continue to be used in his projects in the unknown regions. Hazel eyes peer across the room to another figure standing nearby, "The space battle is all but complete. The battle group will have to maintain space superiority for a while longer." Malign pours over the figures, "Minor casualties. Proceed to phase two." The other side of the council chamber bows his head lightly, "As you command. Is your temporary Captain satisfactory, Lord Malign?" An older man speaks with a core-ward accent. The former Imperial Fleet Admiral Drayson Honos, "I expect you want me to take temporary executive authority over this world and see to its education and management." The Dark Lord nods, "Indeed, you are Lord Regent of Ord Vaxal as of today. Notify the captain that she has command of the system's temporary defense picket. Notify, Admiral Fel, to prepare for redeployment." The Sith turns, "For now I must meditate." Drayson Honos bows again, "As you wish." He turns and steps into a side turbolift that leads him to the bridge. Many of those working in the Sith fleets were trained by this venerable old man and he knew the Captain, but barely. His tenure was coming to an end when she was rising to stardom, "Captain." he says across the noise of the bridge, "A word please, for an old man." Drayson's stark blue eyes peer out giving a direct contrast to his solid black uniform. The temporary captain of the Dark Presence had both observed the battle and let the capable commanders handle their sectors. In many ways the captain is 'rusty' at this sort of thing. In many ways, Cato is shaky in these abilities and a little unsteady in regards to mental faculties. But that unsteadiness is being eroded away, worn away, and when Honos steps onto the bridge and strides towards the captain and speaks in that so precise voice, the temporary Captain feels as though shaking off years and layers of dust and mental debris. "But of course," the captain says quietly, "your counsel is valued, as always," manners slipping easily into that of a commanding officer once again. Paths and destinies. Ever in motion. Ever changing. Ever brushing against one another. And often without knowing it. Malign's change in combat phases gives Enb'Zik the reprieve he needs to slip into the atmosphere of Ord Vaxal. The Sullustan is so preoccupied with getting out of sight he may never know that the temporary Captain in charge of the fleet's flagship is none other than a woman he thought finally redeemed. In Ranger One's aft cockpit, Enb'Zik takes a deep, steadying breath and evens out what remains of the Mantaray's shields. He cuts way back on the throttle, stabilizing the fighter as the planet's air thickens around the hull. Then, he heads for the deck, heading for a level typically beneath sensory scans. "Well, that was unexpected," he comments to his wife, eyes going to the scanner console to watch for any more "meteor showers" made up of falling droid warriors. He also takes a moment to start scoping out a landing site -- preferably someplace far from where they'd made atmospheric entry. "I've got a contact down here named Barrus Sulao. He's a smuggler, but a decent one. Galacian... if we're lucky, he survived this attack and can tell us what this is all about." Although glad to be alive, Snarl is in a bit of a sour mood after the surprise and bumpy ride. "A place to start, I suppose," she growls sulkily. Beyond this comment, the Horansi hasn't much to say that would be at all helpful, so she keeps it to herself. At least she can get out of the d*mned ship once they land. That's something to look forward to. Drayson gives Cato a weathered smile, "Good to see there is value in an old man's words." It was odd for him to be here, his entire command staff resigned after the Cochran incident, he felt a BDZ should have never been on the table. His long service record was always shielded by the moderates and sometimes his weathered expression makes him regret he passed on the rank of Grand Admiral and made way for one Danik Kreldin to take that post and desecrate it. Still, he was loyal to one man, the Warlord Malign and as a result of that unbending, unyielding trust he stood here before a junior officer who followed an order he still had difficulty forgiving. "Lord Malign has ordered me to take administrative control of this sector as a sort of Moff. In this order we are referred to as Lord Regent as it is a granted nobility. The Sith higher structure is a feudal state of trust and grants from the Dark Lord. I am also to inform you, you are now tactically in command of the picket defense of Ord Vaxal while our droid armies secure the planet." The old man bows, "My offices will remain on the Dark Presence, while my system is secured by the droid legions of Legion General Siege." He bows his head, "Oh and you might be interested in this." he passes Cato a datapad with the tactical readouts of one Griffon Starfighter that broke through the battle and toward the planet below. On Vaxal: The Sith armies were moving rapidly through brush and rough terrain toward their target. Opening shots begin to ring out and explosions fill the air as cannons on both sides begin to report as initial heavy fighting begins on the surface, frightening wildlife and sending creatures of all shapes and sizes fleeing through the nearby jungles. Settlements within a few hundred kilometers of the major cities could hear the battle wage at certain points and see the streaking exhausts of Scimitar assault bombers as they rushed to deliver missiles. Several ships can be seen fleeing the system, battered YT-1300s, and various freighters of all sizes, colors, and shapes take off from various places on the world to make a run for space and to get out while the getting is good. A run of bad luck and their caches and hideouts are rendered useless as many will try to find new holes to crawl into between jobs elsewhere in the galaxy. Cato accepts the datapad and studies the readout for a moment, and it takes a moment of study for she dos recognize that Griffon Starfighter and makes an accurate read as to its occupants. "Instruct your men, should they encounter the ships captain and occupants, to detain, not harm," she orders after a silent moment. "His goal and ours are not that dissimilar, in this place and time. Further," and a ghost of a smile forms on her face, her eyes lifting and looking more blue than before, an intense shade of cerulean at this moment, "make it known that if any harm comes to them by our people that I will be very displeased," said in a cold and rather clipped tone of voice. She taps the datapad against her opposite hand, then tucks it into one pocket as she studies Honos for another quiet moment then, with a tilt of her head, "Walk with me," she instructs. Cato's paces around the bridge, observing the bridge crew and officers at their tasks, the clipped conversations that pass from one crewman to the other, information passed along from ship to ship, the picket fleet forming into position and maneuvering with the skill and agility that seasoned veterans display. "Once the system is secured you will be taking up offices planet side. We will handle security for the nonce until you've pacified the local population and explained to them the benefits of the new administration." Cato rubs absently at the uniform covering the right shoulder where the most recent of wounds is thickly bandaged still. "This fleet will hold the system," said in a confident calm voice before turning and issuing a series of commands that range from getting a tally of all defensive damage and an accurate read on the force deployment and the dispersal of assets to planet. The irony isn't lost on Enb'Zik, that while hundreds of ships are doing everything they can to /leave/ Ord Vaxal, he's just fought his way /onto/ the planet. "There," he says, more to himself than to Snarl as he aims Ranger One toward a wide swath of jungle roughly thirty kilometers from Tof Soren, the planet's soon-to-be-beleaguered capital city. "This far out, they shouldn't find the ship," he explains to Snarl once the ship is landed. He reaches to the control that unseals the canopy and reaches up to do the same to his flight helmet once he's made sure the area is secure. "We're a day's hard walk from the city here, and the Sith are between us and them. Now to find our way in." Snarl huffs softly through her nose as she watches the planet's surface seems to rise toward them as Enb'Zik pilots toward a landing site. Jungle phases her not at all; rather it suits her so much better than being trapped inside a sardine-can of a ship. The Horansi grunts quietly, "I doubt it will be /that/ hard, Mmm'turra. You have abilities and I am build for quick long-distance travel. Sith are for you to handle. Anyone lesser and we can get by without too much trouble, I think." That said, she unstraps herself and makes as quick an exit from Ranger One as she possibly can. Some of the tension visibly leaves her lanky frame as soon as her bare paws touch the dirt and vegetation of the planet's surface. Drayson nods, "I see, I see. He has some value you to you." The old man's eyes twinkle a bit, "I can respect that and will send out the order. However, if their presence hinders our current efforts they are little more than enemy combatants and then what should we do then?" He raises a brow, "Let us maintain our military logic. As for the planet and its administration, once the planet is secure. I am certain you if you wish to continue your service your ship will be summoned to the next leg of a larger campaign. This is just the beginning." he smiles, "Keep your eyes open and ear to the ground. The galaxy will eventually hear the calls here." An aid walks quietly behind Drayson occasionally stabilizing the old man as he walks. On the ground: Enb'zik's ship is monitored as it enters the atmosphere by a group of droid scouts. One lifting an arm brace and a holographic image of the imposing Siege stands, "Report." "General, we cannot locate the ship based on our trajectory and curve of the planet's surface has hindered our efforts to trace trajectory." the chief scout reports. "Confirmed, monitor by standard sweep. Four squads and one mobile armor unit will suffice. Orders from top, capture alive." Siege cuts the communication to return to the battle at hand. The city was beginning to feel the intense pummeling of heavy weapons and droids trying to scale the walls of the fortress city. While the scouting groups begin to shift through the jungle to find their target, a Jedi. The mobile armor in question was a hover-tank built by Merr-Sonn, the massive vessel pushing through the jungle with a single massive cannon but bristling with several point defense and anti-personnel weapons. "By your words, are you saying that your men are incapable of keeping one ships captain and his crew from so hindering current efforts that they are liable to become a problem?" Cato counters in return, voice cool and each words pointed as the temporary Captain turns back to Drayson. "I should think you would have more faith in the abilities of your men and the droids at their command," added in that same carefully measured tone. "I repeat, they are not to be harmed. Did I make myself clear this time? I dare say that Malign himself is not quite ready to dispose of them, neatly or otherwise, at this current stage of the game. They are important to Malign, and therefor they are important to you and your men. " "It wouldn't be that hard if walking there were all we had to accomplish," Enb'Zik agrees. He pushes himself up from Ranger One's cockpit and surveys the area he's landed in. It is remote, to be sure. The overgrowth is thick, but penetrating it would only be a matter of sufficient offensive weaponry to Malign's forces. He can only hope his long skimming trajectory across the planet's surface was sufficient to let him hide the ship well enough. It's only a fighter, but he's developed a certain attachment to it. He slides off the upper surface and lands lightly in the humus and ferns that cover the forest floor. "Unfortunately, there's the matter of that army between us and our objective." Zik glances at the sky, "Malign knows Ranger One. He'll be looking for us one way or the other. In case they did manage to track our landing, we'd better take an out-of-the-way route into Tof Soren." He frowns a moment in thought, then adds, "And as soon as we're safe to do so, I'd better dispatch a signal back to Ord Mantell and let Luke know what we've found." His eyes go back to Snarl a moment, then Zik turns and walks into the forest after keying a panel on Ranger One's underbelly to lock the ship down. Already submitting the area to a minute inspection with ears, nose, and eyes, Snarl looks over at Enb'Zik and nods. "We can try a tree-top route if you think that will be helpful. I do not know how well you move up there now, but you have hitched rides before." As he walks off, the Horansi shrugs and drops to all fours to follow. The former Fleet Admiral chuckles lightly, "Oh, I have every confidence in the abilities of Legion General Siege and his droid armies, to do their duty. I am not concerned about this, Enb'Zik's rank and position aboard his snub fighter either. Here is my concern, history, I am not a fool and I do not underestimate anyone who can wield a lightsaber." he smiles every so gently, "Also I am told his, how you say, better half is not to be underestimated in combat either. Two people can make a difference, if it is not to upset the entire balance of this operation, which I concur is unlikely, but I have to be worried that if we shift our focuses too much or provide too many special orders or concerns then we might lose focus of something more important. I understand, if you have a personal connection with this being and those around him. Perhaps, you call him friend and genuinely mean it. War, doesn't grant us too much time to allow those emotions to domineer our resolve. We cannot be arrogant, and we cannot speak for the War Lord. If he wishes them alive I will be told." the Lord Governor pauses for a moment, "He did say he wanted them to land on planet, this tells me, that my old friend believes that no matter what is sent toward the Sullustan and his friends they will come out on top, even Warlord Malign respects, the Jedi's ability. If he is your friend, ignore it officially, execute the orders, but-" he pauses and takes a breath and gives Cato a very fatherly smile, "-but trust in your heart that he can survive because he is that kind of sentient. As per Malign and your request I will not ask Legion General Siege to focus too much on the Sullustan. The standard patrols will suffice due to their extendibility and the success ration percent for our campaign." Messages to Luke would be hard to come by. A virtual communications blackout was happening throughout the sector as a result of the capture of hundreds of key holonet points between this sector and its nearest hubs. The droids sent to find Enb'zik and Snarl were standard droids, no alchemical modifications, just foot soldiers with blaster rifles. With them the biggest threat would be the tank as it pushes trees over in a sweeping pattern as it continues moving in the last known direction of the Ranger One. The Ord Vaxal star would set soon sending the world into darkness, at which point the great irony would be there would be no advantage or disadvantage. The one factor going for the organics was wisdom, wit, talents and for the droids the fact they are ceaseless and never need to rest. "Sentimentality and emotionalism is a luxury best reserved for civilians and non-combatants, Sir," Cato responds after a silent moment. "Sometimes it is best to shoot the hostage and move on," is murmured before gazing up at Drayson, voice pensive. "I do not underestimate them, nor would it be wise to do so. I'm confident that his mission in the here and now will succeed, and there is much to to accomplish in the next few hours. Over the next few span of days. " The 'fatherly' smile is not lost on Cato, though to be fair the captain doesn't exactly recognize it for what it is, reading it instead as a smile of wisdom paired with an air of patience. "I am a bit out of practice at this," which is no small admission. At Snarl's suggestion, Enb'Zik pauses. Her words give him an idea, and he turns to face her. "Good thinking," he narrows his eyes. Reaching into the Force, he listens closely a moment to the Forest. After the landing of something as foreign as a small starfighter, the area is as quiet as if a large predator were lurking. Of course, many of the creatures surrounding them would interpret Snarl as exactly that. Indeed, the quiet surrounding them might even be a tip-off to someone well-versed in the ways of nature. Enb'Zik considers taking care of that once he's ready to continue. But for now... "Let's go up, but quietly. If you can get me some altitude, maybe we can figure out how things are positioned from here. Us, the city, and the bad guys. Quickly... I suspect we haven't much time if they are onto us." The Horansi merely nods and then jerks her head back toward her shoulder. She is already down relatively close to the ground, so it should be no trouble for Enb'Zik to mount up and make use of her harness. He knows how the straps work. Even as the Sullustan finds his place, Snarl eyes the trees surrounding them with a practiced eye. She needs one that is tall, sturdy, and perhaps most importantly... without thorns. By the time her passenger is secured, the giant feline has selected the best candidate and makes a surging leap toward it. Once contact is make, she scales the trunk with an agility that belies her size. "Forgvie my sentimentality and emotionalism then. I am old." Drayson responds with light laugh, "You are doing well, relax this is natural for you. I can tell you are an experienced Captain. Cold logic is our tool of choice, but I've spent more time as an Admiral than you have in this galaxy, once you reach my tier of administrative duty you have to worry about more than logic." he seems weighted as he speaks, "There is a population down there and once they surrender. How they will serve our cause directly depends on how we handle the initial steps of their administration and exactly how much pressure we put on them. Corellia fell into step very quickly. It was a calm hand, a calm administrator, and a wise Warlord who allowed for a steady hand with an open palm rather than a closed fist. When there is battle, I trust your style of command, especially when facing only the enemy. These planetary missions, require the touch of parental figure. Quick to punish those who break our rules or fight our ideas, but quick to sooth and help after discipline has been dealt. You don't need to agree or disagree or even debate this, this is just an old man's observation, an old man who was once so loyal to the Empire I put everything second to it. Even my family who was killed by friendly fire long before you were born." he bows his head again, "In time with a cautious observation, with some method you can see how the field works. You will learn exactly how much pressure to exert on them, the population, and the second part is easy for you, there is no limit to the pressure you should exert on your enemy." The droids searching for Snarl and Zik get an unexpected surprise as two heat signatures very close to one another leap up from the terrain some fiver hundred meters away. The first to notice is the tank as its primary cannon swivels in that direction and fires off a shot, a ball of plasma with a thunderous report. The projectile was no where near as accurate as primary blaster fire but it impacts nearby sending the remains of trees and splinters in every direction as a circle of some five meters burst into flames that are slowly beaten back by the moisture on the ground, a smoke replaces fire and silence feels the air again. The chief droid looks again, "Smoke is blocking some sensor patterns and the heat from the fires is unbalancing signatures. Switch to x-ray spectrum and sweep the trees. I calculate six possible routes from the result of the blast. Five units per root is advised. MA-13493 will stand ground as support." (MA: Mobile Armor) All droids report affirmative and move in their ordered directions to close in on their prey. There was no need to consider it wildlife, anything that lived here was smart enough to clear out the second they heard the tank approach. "Of the many things that I have been, Sir," Cato says quietly, "I have never been a parent. I never will be, either," admitted in a quiet voice. "There are many things that war takes from us. Sometimes it's just land and home, sometimes it's hope and future. I will never be a parent, I will never bear children, a mortar round striking a field generator that shredded into so many flying pieces of metal shards perforated my lower back and abdomen. That you had children, once, and a family, I find myself suddenly envious of. Sentimentality and emotionalism," a ghost of a smile accompanies these words, "a good commander in the NR would tell us that it is for these emotions for these very ties that bind, they are the reason that we serve that we fight that we live and die. I'm a doctor, a scientist, a soldier, Sir, but I seem to have lost myself somewhere along the lines. How do I know that death would be any different, losing myself?" The captain gazes through the forward view screen at the planet. "By the book, this will go smoothly. There will be no unnecessary blood shed. There will be no slaughtering. No orbital bombardments. No petty bits of malevolence and violence. We are above such things." "Down! Down!" Enb'Zik's words echo more into Snarl's mind than into her ears. As the two had ascended the tree, Enb'Zik had caught sound of the droid troopers, but he hadn't been able to tell they were so close as to be within firing range! Even as he urges Snarl back toward the ground, the canopy explodes above them. Birds scatter from their roosts in adjacent parts of the forest, calling their raucous complaint to the setting sun while the two descend beneath the smoke signal that now marks their position. This army is better than Zik had anticipated. That doesn't bode well for him and Snarl, and it bodes worse for the people whose lives are wrapped up in this world. As soon as the two are back to the ground, Enb'Zik unhooks himself from Snarl's harness. "Let's get moving," he instructs, moving this time into the forest without waiting up, "Double-time it, Love. Don't wait on me -- I can keep up!" There is some hope in being able to move faster thant he droids might expect. Beyond that... Zik is finding his options being quickly cut off. Although lacking Jedi abilities, Snarl's hearing is quite good in its own right. Upon hearing incoming fire that appears to be fairly close to on target, the big cat had literally flung them into space. Falling with limbs out-stretched and claws splayed, she roughly bounces them down to the ground with a rapid speed of decent that must be jarring her forearms horribly. Still, it does get them down fast and in one piece. There is no reply as the Sulllustan runs off into the jungle. Becoming one with her element, the massive Horansi simply darts into the dense vegetation and seems to instantly dissapear as her pelt blends in with her surroundings. "By the book." Drayson repeats, "I'm old enough to have written it. I will be in my makeshift office signing reports. It is what I do. Good luck Captain." The old Admiral slips into the nearby turbolift with an aide and the door closes behind him. The droids were closing in on Enb'zik and Snarl, but as they double time out that catches them off guard. Their limbs and servos twist to try to compensate but too much mechanical force in a jungle with the ground is more muck than solid was to their disadvantage losing them precious seconds. Where they can't chase they answer by firing sending a spray of blaster fire in a general direction: the spray and pray. The scout captain waves a halt after several seconds to listen, "Expeditionary Scouting group seven has lost targets. Signal Expeditionary units from group five and move back to standard patrol route." The droids shift and work themselves out of the mud as logic circuits take over and they resume a standard patrol in their sphere, the reports are filed and sent to command: in space, and on the ground. Legion General Siege, and his hive mind with all units immediently understands and ponders the grid, "Status on the city." he says looking to a support aide, ironically an organic, "Primary forces have managed a breach. The city will be ours in a few more hours if the pressure maintains applied." The Droid general's red photreceptors shift back to the man, "It will, organics are weak, war is not their method. We are the sleepless warriors of Malign. When all living flesh fails our resolve and durasteel succeeds. There is a problem in the jungles, monitor it. Warlord Malign has issued orders not to hunt the Jedi, but to observe, the Captain of the Dark Presence has special request too. Lord Regent Honos has issued our orders to focus all efforts on the city."
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