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Chapter Sixty Eight Grid
Four Nine roils with burning ships of every shape and size. Gun batteries
blazing from friend and foe alike, with a torrent of beams slicing into ships
left and right, up and down, and everywhere else in the middle. This is the
battle scene that Commander Silvas Orian has found himself in on this day. Communications
pouring in from every source, with it obvious that their jamming devices were no
longer working, the Kuati Fleet immediately reverted power back into their
batteries, so Silvas is being flooded with data in both pulse and modulated
frequencies. However, the one transmission he has been dreading has finally
arrived. “Sir! There’s a transmission coming for the planet… It’s the
Planetary Defense Force, the mercenaries have breached the surface, Sir!” Hearing
those words erupting from his comm officer’s mouth only makes the news that
much more real. However, Silvas is facing his own life and death battle for the
heavens right now. “Transmit back the following: Hold your ground… Above all
else, do not allow them to gain entry into The
comm officer does as he is told, but Silvas knows that all bearing witness to
his orders here today, know that defeat is a possibility if the great commander
cannot spare any of his forces right now. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Turn
and burn, Three! You’ve got a blast boat on your mark!”
As Yorel hears the words of his wing commander, he performs the feat, knowing
that she has a different perspective than his and that he can trust her
judgment. And, just as he completes the maneuver, the blast boat sends a shower
of energy pulses out across the space where his bow once sat. “Thanks,
Green Leader. Got it in my sights now.” As the last syllable escapes his
tongue, Yorel lets loose a volley that lights up the blast boat and sends it
careening off into a larger frigate. The explosion of which tears through the
frigate as well. “Nice
shot, Three! That’s a double-double for you!”
That was the voice of Green Five, and as Yorel takes a quick scan of the battle
scene he finds that Five has a fighter on her tails. He
maneuvers into range and then calls out, “Five, duck and cover on my mark…
Two. One. MARK!!!” And as he yells out the command, her Riptide
bubbles down at an insane angle while decelerating enough to place her just
under his Riptide as he fires into the
engine cells of the Kuati Slip Fighter, sending it into a shower of glowing
debris. “Good
one, Three! Just like in the sims… Now line one up for me this time.”
Not wanting to disappoint the little lady, Yorel does just that. Locking
down his dampers before juking off the top of Five, he then catapults her into
range for a dual run on the next frigate, “Strafe and Strike, Five and we’ll
share the kill.” And just as Five levels off from the maneuver, the two Riptides
lay into the frigate with they have got, until their fire appears like a lance
cutting clean into the hulking beast before them. And then the frigate simply
explodes! “Good
work you two, now lay some cover for Blue Flight. And watch your tails!”
Green Leader always appears to be in such command of her situational awareness,
that Yorel could swear she was something of a mystic. However, right now was not
the time to ask her about it. Now was the time to fight, or die. So, Yorel
Tryashoenu was going to fight. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Get
me those statistics now, Lieutenant! I haven’t got time for excuses today.”
Silvas bellows out his orders to the timid junior officer, who then quickly
hands over the latest battle statistics to the commander. “Sir?!
I’ve got reports coming in from Green Leader.” His comm officer shouts out
over the ensuing storm of chaos that has erupted in his command bridge. Tallage
reports six downed blast boats, three fri-… Make that four frigates, one
capital ship is limping away and more fighters than she can count right now,
sir.” “Excellent!
What’s the status on her quadrant of the battle, Lieutenant Brizer?” Silvas
is heartened to hear that one of his prized wing commander is doing so well. “Sir,
she has but one casualty, and the pilot has simply lost all power to his Riptide.
Blue Flight does not seem to be fairing as well, sir. Green Leader has just
dispatched two of her pilots to lend a hand on their side of the battle, sir.” Silvas
practically beams with pride at hearing the report, “Now that is what I call
situational awareness!” He beings to look over the stats of the battle at
hand, and decides on a few careful moves for his next tack when an alarm begins
to sound. “What’s that, Brizer?” The
young lieutenant flips through a few screens on his terminal, “Sir, the
Kuati’s are pulling back!” Silvas
steps down to watch the action on the comm officer’s screen, “By hydro!
You’re right!” Silvas steps back up and slowly reaches down for his chair,
and as he begins to sit back down he ponders what this could mean. And that is
when it dawns on him. “Pull all of our ships out of that sector, immediately!
They’ve set mines!” And alarms go off throughout the bridge with recall
orders being relayed in twelve different ways in order to get all of their
vessels out of range of the Kuati Pulse Mines. Silvas
listens to the recall orders and as, one by one, all the flight groups respond,
he knows that each of his pilots will make it back safely. The only one that has
not responded to the recall order is Green Flight. And when this realization
hits Silvas, he barks out once again, “Where is Green Flight?!” “Sir?”
The comm officer signals that he would like to approach the commander at his
command station and the commander gives him the okay. “Sir, it seems that they
have a pilot still out there, and two of the other pilots are attempting to tow
the disabled Riptide, with its pilot out of range of the mines so a rescue
vehicle can retrieve the downed fighter. They’ve cut off all communication and
won’t be able to respond until there are out of range of the mines.” Silvas
turns this information over in his mind, and then has to ask himself, and anyone
else who can hear him, “Who in all of the galaxy would be damned fool enough
to try that maneuver?” The
lieutenant looks down at his datapad, and hands it to the commander so that he
might see for himself. “I should have known.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “I
understand, Commander, and I will do my best.” The aging woman in her dressing
gown stands at the comm station in her chambers as she ends the transmission.
Lowering her head as she heaves a heavy sigh, the woman appears to have aged in
the few moments she spent talking with her old friend Commander Orian. Elassi
Mehand settles into the chaise beside her, just as her granddaughter enters the
sitting room of their chambers. At first, she does not notice the woman seated
in the room, as the lights have not been raised, but as she brings up a single
light, the image of her grandmother startles her. Not because of her presence,
but because of the saddened expression upon the usually gleeful woman’s face.
“Is everything all right, Grandmother?” The
woman takes a deep breath into her lungs and releases it quickly, “I am afraid
not, child.” Walking
over to the woman, she places her hands over that of her grandmother’s as she
kneels down by her side, “What is it?” “It
is as I have feared, Chandrila is under attack.” The words, so unbelievable to
Xana, strike into her very soul. Her homeworld, the place of her birth, is under
attack. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Sir?”
The bright young lieutenant asks for the commander’s attention. “Go
ahead, Brizer.” The commander looks as though he has aged with this latest
battle. “Sir,
all flights have reported back safely-…” “And
Green Squadron?” The commander interrupts. “All
present and accounted for, Sir. They are the only unit to claim such a thing.
The techs should even have their wounded Riptide
up and running within the hour, Sir.” The lieutenant scans through the rest of
his information before continuing. “And the insurgents appear to have gone
underground, Sir… The PDF has not found hide nor hair of them since they were
spotted landing.” The
commander does not look terribly surprised by this information, “I suspected
as much, which was why I did not divert any resources for going after them. I
have come to believe that this attack was only a diversion for the insertion of
that team…” The man takes a drink from his mug of caf, “This was only a
taste of what is yet to come, Lieutenant Brizer… Only a taste.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Bowing
to his First Father, his knees touching the decking of his father’s flagship,
Vanquar the Lesser shows his respect for the man who gave him life. When his
First Father signals for him to rise he approaches him more closely. “My
mission was a complete success, Dear Honored Father. Both teams were inserted
and the second was done undetected by the Planetary Defense Forces, as well as
the Interstellar Navy. We are now free of those insipid Chandrillan Nobles.
Their courses lie on a different path than our own, my Dear First Father.” The
great man only nods his head, and Vanquar the Lesser becomes concerned that he
has failed his First Father in some way, “Please forgive my arrogance, my Most
Honored Ruler,” and he bows deeply, once more. “Rise,
my First Son… I bear you no ill will. You have completed your task with the
utmost discretion and success. You will be remembered for your efforts.” The
man continues to look out into the vastness of space from the viewport behind
his dais. “Then,
if I may be so bold, First Father, as to ask what troubles you so?” Vanquar
the Lesser rises once more, and takes his place beside his First Father’s
throne. “We
have been betrayed.” Those simple words, not uncommon in Kuati society, send
chills down the younger man’s back. “Though I cannot be certain from whom
this betrayal originates, I fear your Dear Sister’s incompetence may be at
play in it as well.” This
revelation is a first for Vanquar the Lesser, having always been the outcast in
his crèche, upon hearing that his First Sister had failed in anything. “She
was too emotionally involved in the treachery of one of our own people, and was
unable to silence it… And then there is the matter of her ‘treatment’ of
the Chadrillan…” The
younger man is struck dumb by his father’s words. Could his sister have truly
been taken in by a Chandrillan? Allowed a Chandrillan into her bed?
“Blasphemy! She could not have done such a thing, First Father!” The
older man pats his son on the arm, “Your loyalty to your crèche-mate is most
admirable, my Dear First Son, but her weakness has been well documented. As is
her current condition.” And with this last revelation, Vanquar the Lesser
knows that he can no longer afford his own follies. With his sister thusly
disgraced, he must step into the role of his father’s successor now. This war
is now his proving grounds, and proven he shall become. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ With
many disheveled and groggy mystics crowding the council chamber, along with the
equally unprepared council members, Elassi Mehand looks around the room and
tries to gather all of her strength for this announcement; perhaps the toughest
she has ever had to give in her life. Today, she must ask those around her to go
off into the face of death for a cause that many have yet to fully embrace. She
sees many familiar faces and this also causes her a twinge of guilt. However,
she knows that without their help, all could be lost on her homeworld, and
perhaps even more. “Good
friends, I apologize for the late hour with which you have been called here, but
I am afraid that time is of the essence at this moment, so I shall have to beg
for your forgiveness, even though I shall continue… I have just received word
that the darkness many of you have seen on our horizon has at last arrived in
our galaxy. The Kuati Fleet has just attacked the Chandrillan Interstellar Navy,
in Chandrillan space, as well as dispatched a ground force on the surface of the
planet.” She waits for the guffaws and exclamations to die down before
continuing. On the faces of many she finds surprise and outrage, on others shock
and disappointment, and yet on a few, she find resignation (a fact that
unsettles her greatly), however she must continue. “Commander Orian and
requested our assistance in dealing with the insurgents. The Planetary Defense
Force is unprepared for such an event, as they are nothing more than policing
entity, and not trained for actual combat. With the Kuati Fleet beginning to
strike at the Navy, Commander Orian is forced to abandon the planet to its own
defenses in order to prevent a full scale attack from the skies.” She
is interrupted by Master Beldon Marsenal, “Pardon my asking this, Madame
Mehand, but what business is it of ours to interfere with this action?” He
concludes by bowing his hooded head before her. She
nods her head at his show of respect and pauses before answering him, “It is
the business of the galaxy whenever peace is threatened unjustly, Master
Marsenal. However, to be more specific, we believe this action is being led by a
follower of the Dark Arts.” She stops to let the full impact of her words sink
in to all gathered before her, and the gasps escaping from several of them is
enough to garner a response from High Master Arankelee. “Friends,
All… We have all felt the presence of a Dark Master in the galaxy, and has
been foretold for many, many years, a tide of darkness has fallen over that
corner of the galaxy. The Dark Ones are making themselves known and are lifting
their veil of secrecy at last. The first great test of our time has come, and we
must rise to meet its challenges head on.” The master’s voice cracks with
his age, and lack of sleep, but all hear his words and take them to heart. Stepping
forward, and then taking to one knee, the reptiod hatchmates, Mistress
Tibbierion and Master Roltern have thrown in their lots for this mission, “The
hatchmatessssss are at the counthhhhhhilssss dissssposssssal.” Looking
to one another, the three, assembled members of the Path of the White Current
and their council representatives are having great difficulty bringing the
pacifistic tenents of their faith in line with the apparent violent nature of
this task. Fighting amongst themselves for a time before all but one of the
members bow before the remaining council, “With great apologies, we are unable
to abide by such a violent task. Perhaps our joining of this union was a
mistake. We must receive council from our faithful to decide our place at
Sanctuary.” And with that, they walk out of the room, leaving behind one,
Taleri Nassarat, Priestess in the Path of the White Current and daughter of one
of the council members having just left these chambers. “Perhaps
my fellow followers have lost sight of the true nature of our sect, but I shall
remain at your disposal. I should not like to see the darkness triumph at this
early time in the life of our people. If I can be of service to you, than I
should like to stay.” And as she bows before Elassi, her white hair cascades
down from her shoulders in a glorious display. “Many
thanks to you, Friend Nassarat, we should be glad to have your presence and your
life-force in this endeavor.” Next
to step forward is a remarkably handsome man, with fiery copper-gold hair and
finely chiseled features. “I regret, that I have but one life to live, and one
life to offer for this noble cause…” Master Fyrenon Obsisidian bows deeply
before Elassi and the remaining council members. “You have my saber.” Another
man, this one with darkened features and wavy hair, kneels forward, his saber
hilt drawn before him, “And mine. I am but a vessel of your cause.” Master
Toryn Vinriinng has joined his life partner in this quest for justice. Master
Jsarn Melotian and Mistress Kyra Salynnadorn look first to their council members
and then Master Mussiri before answering the call themselves. Once gaining
assurances that their presence is needed and wanted, they also join the growing
list. A
deep and resonating voice, one without even the slightest hint of sleepiness in
it, speaks, “You don’t even need to ask me. I am yours, as always.” And
Master Dracul, his fist on his shoulder, bows slightly from the waist. “And
where he goes, I go.” Meesahran adds her own voice to the fray, “Otherwise
I’ll have a heavy price to pay to his betrothed for letting him get into
trouble again.” Her joke helps to lighten the mood a bit, but there are still
others left in the room whom have yet to speak. “Well,
I simply cannot allow a mission to be without a full-blooded Corellian, so I too
must ask to allowed entrance onto this illustrious team.” Mistress Raykirie
Hutchsnare winks at Meesahran as she bows before the council. Sensing
that all eyes now rested upon him, Jae-Lee Reklaw is about to speak up, however,
Master Mussiri beats him to it, “I am most honored by my inclusion with the
astute assemblage gathered here this evening, however, I am not certain that an
aged man such as myself should be involved. And certainly not when I have only
recently acquired a new pupil.” Everyone in the room is shocked into silence
by Master Mussiri’s apparent declining of the mission. High
Master Arankelee is the first to break the silence, “Falion, you are not
included in this mission,” the gasps from those still in the room are enough
to cause the old man to pause, “but you are to lead the mission. Without you,
all could be lost, and I should want to trust the life of my grandson to any
other.” Looking over at Jae, the old man is beaming with pride. “But
I haven’t even agreed to go yet.” Jae asks puzzled by the man’s words. “One
need not hear the words to know what is in your heart, child.” The old man
walks over to Jae and places a frail hand upon the young man’s shoulder,
looking deeply into his eyes, “And your eyes have already told all, that you
could follow your friend into certain death, rather than fail in your friendship
to her.” Jae hangs his head, knowing that the old man found exactly what was
in his mind and his heart. Master
Mussiri simply nods his head and turns back to the other council members and
Elassi, “Then you shall have not only my saber, but that of my student.” “And
your former student, Master Mussiri.” Mistress Cherié Mehand lays her atop
Falion’s shoulder as she too, throws in for this mission. “After all, who
better to know the inner working of Hanna City, than one who has grown up as the
child of its recently departed ruler.” She nods to her mother, knowing that
although she would never wish to put her child in danger, that there would be no
holding her back. With
all in agreement, the council sends the members of this newly formed team off to
collect themselves before departure in their ships. Soon, the galaxy shall know
of not only their existence, but also their alliance and might, and so, the Jedi
Order begins, now.
Creator: PtrsonsZOO (Jennifer)
*SPECIAL NOTE: Due to circumstances beyond our control, the rest of the story will be written by PtrsonsZOO (Jennifer)
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