Crusade of the Force

Draco Korr · Crusade of the Force

Draco opened his eyes and blinked a few times, trying to clear his hazey vision. All around him, enormous multi-colored planets and fungi of all different varieties sprung from the ground. The air was hot and humid much like a tropical forest, and a light mist could be felt brushing against his face, almost like a never ending web. He started to walk slowly and looked up as the dry brush crunched underneath his heavy footsteps and the sun glistened gleefully off his yellow eyes.

Draco could not understand how he had gotten here on Felucia nor why he was here. He only knew that he had only visited this hell hole once before and didn't much care to be here...Hell, he'd rather be on Tattooine any day than to be here again. True, Felucia had quite the easy appearance on the eyes with all its beautiful colorations, but the humidity and hostile creatures had a tendacy to take ones attention away from those factors and make you long to be ANYWHERE else in the galaxy.

Draco kept walking and forced himself to bring his attention back to the situation at hand in order to survive long enough to escape this place. Suddenly, A distant rumbling echoed through Felucia's atmosphere. Draco looked up once again, trying to locate the source of the noise. Soon, he spotted a ship approaching from the horizon...Then another...Then another. He squinted against the dying sun in order to get a closer look. It wasn't long before the ships were close enough that Draco could identify them as Republic gunships and bombers.

Draco turned and began sprinting. He didn't know where to run or where to take cover, all he knew was that he needed to escape. His heart began beating faster and stronger, his breathing began to become heavy and irregular. Soon, they began to become insync with one another, as their rythem threaten to fatigue Draco and bring him down. The destructive rythem began to soon fade however into a sound that Draco knew meant that bombs had been released. He dove and hit the deck as explosions rocked the area around him. More and more bombs were impacting the ground around him, heat lancing at his flesh and debris tearing at his clothes.

When the destructive volley had seized, Draco stood and immediately found himself in the thick of a raging ground war. Troops were yelling, running, shooting, and throwing their own bombs. Dust and debris were so thick in the air that Draco could neither see nor breathe to calm his already burning lungs. He saw flashes of blaster bolts and violent orange plumes of fire and light as more bombs exploded. Then, he thought he saw what looked like a crimson lightsaber swinging in the gritty distance.

He drew his saber and ignited its red blade, readying himself to enter the raging war in front of him. Suddenly, a figure broke through the veil of dust and approached Draco. "THANNOS?!" Draco could hardly believe it. Thannos had been dead for years now. Draco smiled upon seeing his late brother once again. "Thannos! I thought you were dead."

"I am my young brother. And you will surely join me if you do not leave this place." A firm , but caring hand fell to Draco's shoulder. "This is not the place for you my brother...Please Leave..." The last words echoed as Thannos began to fade into nothingness...Then, he was gone. Tears threatened to erupt from Draco's eyes. It had felt like he had lost Thannos all over again. Suddenly, a feint beeping could be heard from somewhere in the distance. Draco was trying to figure out what is was when a nearby explosion rocked him off his feet. Draco hit the ground with a *THUD* and squinted in pain. He opened his eyes and found himself impaled through the stomach by some random debris. He tried to get up but was too weak... He was helpless and dying. From out of what seemed like nowhere, the beeping he had heard only seconds before had grown louder. He looked to the chaos in front of him to see a thermal detonator land at his side. Now he knew the source of the beeping, it grew louder and louder. Then it went off, bright light engulfed Draco, and then...Darkness.

Draco snapped up in a jerk. He was now in his pilot's seat in the cockpit of his transport, the Death's Hand. Humph. Must have been a dream...or maybe...a vision? The cockpit's lighting was set to low and all was deathly silent in the small confined area, except that the beeping sound he had heard in his dream was still echoing in his ears. He looked around the cockpit and it didn't take long for Draco to figure out that the ringing sound was the communications console informing him that he had a waiting transmission. He quickly reached over and activated the message.

The comm crackled to life as a tiny, transparent blue figure appeared before him. Draco had expected it to be from someone back at the guild hall contacting him to bother him with some more insugnificant problems. But instead, he found it to be someone he had not talked to in quite sometime. "Well well. If it isn't the mighty Crozeus!" A sarcastic smile twisted Draco's face into something even more repulsing than it already was. Draco slid back slackly in his seat. "To what do I owe the honor of you contacting me? Have you changed your mind and decided to join the Dark Brotherhood?"

Sirak Sazen

As the Republic fleet made its way gently through hyperspace, Sirak Sazen awoke out of another frightening dream. Why does this keep happening? I've done everything they told me! The dreams never seemed to stop and grew steadily more frightening each night. Perhaps it was anxiety. Sirak knew what was next. Attempting to negotiate with the newly strengthened Sith menace was going to be a useless measure. There was no bargaining, no reasoning with a Sith. Danger surrounded this mission. War was inevitible.

Sirak quickly dress himself in his Jedi robes, his demeanor that of frustration. His small dorm was filled with a golden light that reflected upon his little amount of possessions. He left the room with haste and made his way to the mess hall to meet his former master. Announcements blared over the loudspeakers. The corridors were filled with soldiers and officers maintaining he ship and preparing for battle.

Had it really come to this? After decades of peace and growth, how could the threat of another war be thrust so dangerously upon them? The question rattled through Sirak's mind distracting him and causing a collision with another Jedi, or so called Jedi. Sirius Attero had fallen to the ground. Sirak attempted to help him up, but his hand was swatted away. Before Sirak could even apoligize, Sirius picked himself up and walked in the opposite direction.

The mess hall was flooded with the roar of conversation. Several nearby soldiers were taking bets on how many Sith soldiers they could kill. Felucia was in range now. Sirak could feel it. Standing at the end of the hall was his master. Arik Crescent. His greying hair reached his deep green eyes. Crescent had been discussing plans with a Republic captain before his beaming face met his former pupil's. "Ah, Sirak. How nice of you to join us." His voice rang like a rowdy adventurer. "The captain and I have been discussing emergency plans should our negotiations fail." His face took on a look of hope at these words. Arik really wanted to fight the Sith.

"The Council members will meet with some of the Sith leaders aboard one of their ships outside of Felucia. It's dangerous but somebody has to do it. Should the scum double-cross us, we'll send a message to the Jedi on our ships with the Force. We'll probably have to fight our way out," he said grinning. Now go get prepared. You and I will be coming along as enforcers with about a dozen other Jedi."

Sirak tried to respond to his master. Why would he be sent aboard? There were many others much more powerful than he. Arik could obviously read his thoughts. He gave Sirak a reassuring pat before sending him off.

Xander Vos

Narum Taal, Mandalore the Dominant, sat calmly in his cabin as the ground beneath his feet vibrated smoothly. The Enforcer and the other seven Crusader-class Corvettes flew smoothly through Hyperspace, heading towards their target, Felucia.

The Republic had contacted Mandalore weeks prior, notifying him of the Sith presence on the world, and the problem this caused them. Mandalore had accepted without hesitation, as his hatred of the Sith had grown since their invasion of Bakura nearly three years ago. His Supercommandos had been trained specifically with Force-sensitive enemies in mind, and were prepared for any conflict that they would find on Felucia.

As a tone chimed softly in his cabin, Mandalore stood, donning his helmet as he left his cabin, headed for the bridge, as the craft began to prepare to exit Hyperspace.

The Enforcer, one of MandalMotors many new craft following the end of the Darth Miedo conflict, wore its battle scars proudly. It had been Krash Vhed - the previous Mandalore's - flagship in the fight against the remnants of Darth Miedo's forces following the Battle of Reldar Prime. Now it was Narum Taal's, and served him well.

As he reached the bridge, Mandalore glanced around at his crew, all loyal Mandalorians who had witnessed great changes to their homeworld over the past decade. The Darth Miedo Conflict had come and passed, the Sith had become temporary allies in the aftermath, and then, after their brash invasion of Bakura, instant enemies, due to Mandalore's Jedi allegiance.

He glanced at several in particular, drawing nods of admiration from them. Having been Mandalorian for a little over a decade now, Taal had worked the hard way to earn Mandalorian respect, having not been a Mandalorian by birth. He had been found by a Mandalorian soldier during the Darth Miedo conflict, Sheer, who had taken him back to Mandalore, where Narum Taal had trained in the Mandalorian customs, becoming all but a true Mandalorian and, when he forged his first set of armour on his eighteenth birthday, declared himself as much a Mandalorian as Sheer himself.

When Krash Vhed grew close to death, Taal had seen his chance, campaigning to become his successor, his main opponent being none other than Sheer. However, Taal's military experience from the war, as opposed to Sheer's preference to farming and peace, saw Taal take a vital advantage in the power struggle following Vhed's death. Employing a Bounty Hunter to assassinate Sheer, Taal had assumed the mantle of Mandalore the Dominant, earning the respect of any Mandalorians who had been in doubt of his capabilities for one so young.

The ship dropped out of Hyperspace, breaking Mandalore out of his train of thought. The planet Felucia sat before him, a beautiful jewel, settled in the darkness of space, unaware of the fierce battle that was about to rip it apart.

Crozeus

Crozeus snorted derisively at the hologram of the leader of the Dark Brotherhood. Dressed completely in dark robes the only thing distinguishing him from the shadow was the silvery breastplate of polished Mandalorian Iron he wore. His favourite lightsaber, the hilt bonded in gold hung from his side.

"Don't flatter yourself Korr," he sneered. "I was merely informing you that we strike as soon as the Republic drop out of hyperspace. The cargo on those ships... I don't know exactly what it is, but it is crucial to them, and the High Council wants it."

Crozeus was standing on the bridge of the Guardian class destroyer he had been given. He had christened it The Retaliator. The Republic were going to pay for what they had done, and the name seemed to fit.

*

Commander Malice looked over the screens being displayed from the probe droids. A large blip appeared on-screen as the Republic merchant fleet dropped out of hyperspace, disrupting the calm above Felucia. Malice strode to his seat and strapped in.

"All units, jump to your positions on my signal. If we can take the ships without a fight, we will do so."

Three counts later, and the small Sith fleet jumped to hyperspace.

Lord Lanik

Hyperspace was quiet, but the ship wasn't. Lord Invisus sat on the floor in his room on the Super Star Destroyer Reaper . A low grunt split the silence in the rooms as the former Morgukai warrior's knife made a clean slice down his chest. The dark red blood from the wound trickled down his bare chest. His gutteral moans rose louder as the knife made another slice.

"M'dweshuu, grant me the power to kill the Jedi," the Sith Lord of Pain's voice rose in the ancient, hypnotic chant of the Morgukai. The chant continued, and so did the knife until a beep from the door to the room shook him from the trance-like state.

Invisus rose, and without bothering to cover the fresh wounds on his chest, let the door slide open. A Sith naval officer stood at attention in front of the door. The man gaped in suprise as he saw the blood on Invisus' chest. Making a visible effort to compose himself, the man spoke.

"M-my Lord, the Republic Envoy is back, " the man said, his voice more than a little unsteady. "He wishes to speak with you."

Sirak Sazen

Liberator had come out of hyperspace in orbit of Felucia. Sith warships were poised ready for action not far away. One had drifted off away from the opposing fleets, their destination. Sirak's nerves had never been the best even after his days as a Padawan. Before he boarded the transport ship, he confessed his concerns to his old master. "There's no need to worry m'boy. It'll likely be an uneventful waste of time. Just grit your teeth and stay strong. Remember your training." Even his master's reassurance hadn't quite calmed him. He was in too deep now.

The window on the side of the transport told the whole story. They were slowly moving through space towards the lone Sith ship floating in isolation. Dozens of Imperial warships and frigates floated over Felucia matched only by the numbers of the Republic fleet. Below them sat Felucia, the "world of hell and horrors" as described by one Jedi. Sitting around Sirak were nearly a dozen other Jedi sitting motionless in their thoughts. The target ship was getting closer now. The silence was unbearable.

((Lanik, I'm leaving a little room now for others who wish to join. We'll be up to Invisus by my next post.))

Draco Korr

Draco sat in silence in the cockpit of the Death's Hand for just a few seconds longer while he wandered through his thoughts and trying to regain his composure from that strange dream he had had. he was trying to determine wether he should shake it off and just pass it as another dream or if he should be concerned that it might be the force trying to show him something. There was something nagging at him and bringing him back to it though. It just seemed so...REAL.

Finally, he reached over the many winking lights and screens on the console and activated the ship's internal com unit.

"Reaver! Melick! Report to the cockpit at once."

A young mans voice came back over the speaker, "We're on our way Master Korr."

Draco began to fumble over the navi-computer's controls with a still shakey, black gloved hand as he began inputting the coordinates that Crozeus had transmitted to him only minutes before. Shortly, the door behind Draco slid silently aside and revealed two young men standing one behind the other. Reaver, a red skinned Sith Twi'lek Draco had discovered on Courascant, stood in front followed by Melick, a Jedi Human from Corellia.

Reaver had long head tails (Lekku) that hung slackly down his back, red eyes, a broad shaped fore head and a strong set jaw. Although he was still young, his hardened features did him no justice in the way of smooth and fair features. He had on his normal all black sith robes but lacked his thick, heavy cloak. His saber, silver and with rippled features to provide a better grip, hung from his belt and swayed off his thigh as he entered the cockpit.

Melick was very tall for a human. He had eyes as blue as the lakes on Naboo, slimmer body frame and facial features than that of Reaver, and hair as dark as space. His hands were twice the size of Reaver's, which is why Draco was training him in the art of hand to hand combat as well, and he had legs and arms as bulky as tree trunks. Melick was wearing his full attire which was not the classic tunic, robes, and cloak. Instead, Melick prefered to wear dark colored loose fitting pants with pockets on the outside of the thighs, a not so loose fitting tan muscle top covered partially by a darker tan, not so heavy over coat. His saber was sleek and solid silver, resembling a straight rod with an emitter.

They took their rightful seats and Draco began to fill them in on the upcoming mission and the odds that they faced. But like true Brotherhood members, they did not argue or refuse the matter. They busily went about their normal functions, running systems checks and diagnostics. When they had the safe passage confirmation from the navi-computer and the go aheads from his two apprentices, they made the jump.

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The lone transport dropped out of hyperspace and slowed their engine's throttles. Then, Melick reported, "Master Korr, Felucia is at our three. We still have the green light on all systems. We're ready when you are Milord."

"Verywell Melick. Adjust the ship's trajectory and keep our throttles steady."

"Yes sir."

The ship began to turn and soon, Felucia's beautiful features filled about 45% of their forward viewport and was surrounded by an estimated three dozen ships or more.

Draco snarled and said, more to himself than anyone, "Crozeus. You told me that this would be big. But you did not mention that it would be THIS big." He spoke louder so that he could be heard clearly, "Go and prepare our things."

Both replied together, "Yes Sir!"

"And padawans?"

They stopped.

"You had better pack us light... But you must also ready us for a warm, humid, and hostile mission."

They turned and disappeared from the cockpit.

Xander Vos

Mandalore gazed out at the infested world of Felucia as it hung in space before the Enforcer. The planet, a solitary spot of bright colours - blues and greens - was surrounded by dozens of warships of varying allegiances. He had been told by the Republic he was required for an important battle, he did not know, however, that this battle would be the size of a small-scale war.

The comm officer on the bridge indicated that they were being hailed by Republic forces, so Mandalore indicated that the signal should be allowed through.

Turning to the holo-cam, Mandalore removed his helmet, smiling gently into the camera for the benefit of the Republic captain.

"Ah, captain, right on time. I was afraid you may have made a wrong turn."

"Mandalore," the Captain said, bowing respectfully, "I have been informed by my superiors that you have agreed to take orders from me throughout this battle, and I thank you for the humility and respect that that shows for the Republic. The Republic will, as agreed, supply your world with twenty-three GOLAM Defence Platforms once we are done with the Sith here."

Mandalore bowed his head, almost mockingly, "Thank you, Captain, it is reassuring to note that the Republic still considers Mandalore one of its closest allies. Those GOLAM platforms will be put to extremely good use as Mandalore seeks to stabalise its borders."

"I hope," the captain said, almost cautiously, "That you do not mean that your people will be seeking to gain more territory. That was never part of the bargain."

"It is only natural that Mandalore will offer surrounding systems protection if they wish to join the Mandalorian Empire," Mandalore said, innocently, "That is not to say, however, that they will be forced, through violent or non-violent means. We would never dare go up against the Republic. Your struggle with the late Darth Miedo demonstrates the folly in that."

"Good," the Captain said, suspiciously, "We're coming up on the world now, so get your men to battle stations, this is about to get hot."

Lord Invictus

Invictus strode down the hallway silently, his light-combat shoes slipping on the metal floor without a sound. Bringing himself to his own personal room, he tore open the door with a jerk of his hand.

Inside, he simply strode up to his chair and began contemplation of the possible battle in the future: The Republic wouldn't simply allow Felucia to fall into Sith hands this quickly.

"Sir," was the simple mumble the holographic image of one of the Army-pilots Invictus commanded. "We're beginning a descent toward Felucia. Orders?"

"Wait in the hangar bays for some time, and arm up your transports. In due time, it may be convenient to send ground troops to the planet. I sincerely doubt the Republic doesn't already have stationed troops here, and if they don't, the Felucians aren't all on our side...."

"Understood."

"When you do land, don't let signs of Felucian treachery go unnoticed. It may seem cruel, but, if you must, kill all suspected traitors. The Empire depends upon its soldiers will to act for its safety."

"Yessir."

Invictus pulled himself up, attaching onto himself his battle armor, and equipped a comlink to his helm. At that, he strode down the hallway to the hangar where his ship, Sterblichkeit, stood waiting for him.

Darth Splinter

Lieutenant Rohn Verrater sat in his bunk intently, staring off into space as his mind wandered. Images of himself shooting down surrendering Sith soldeirs sent a ice cold chill up his hardened spine.

"Lieutenant! Captain says he wants you to get your squad together. We're nearing Felucia." Rohn blinked rapidy and regained attachment with the world around him. He nodded in aknowledgement to the officer, but the officer lingered in the doorway."Are you alright, sir?"

"You heard the Captain, gear up!"

"Sir!"

With that, the officer promptly left. Verrater got on his knees an opened up his bedside storage container, punching in the code without giving it much thought. He looked down on his equipment, brushed his hair back with his hand, and let out a deep breath.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. "Dammit." He murmured to himself. He reached for his standard issue Republic helmet, and fit it securely on his head, then going for his carbine. He gave it a quick look over and holstered it on his back. He brought himself up and spoke queitly to himself once more. "Let's just get this over with."

He marched down the hallway, casually ignoring most who passed him, until one of his men passed him. "Corporal." He called to the Zabrak that passed him. "What is our ETA?"

The Zabrak gave him a nervous look. "I..uh..didn't check." Rohn rolled his eyes and put his hand on the Corporal's shoulder. "For Sith's sake, Harnh, I give you the easiest task in the whole entire fleet and you still can't pull that off." Rohn started to smile and let out a small chuckle. It wasn't long until the Corporal caught on. He patted the Zabrak on the shoulder playfully and spoke. "Be careful out there, boy. Meet me in the prep room."

"Yes sir." He said with a smile and went on. The joke still could not completey hide the pain inside the Lieutenant. He kept that smile plastered on his face, but only to appear stronger to his men. It was a half-assed smile at that, but it would hold.

Rohn made a sharp turn into the prep room where his squad of about 15 men and women awaited his order. They were a diverse group. Human, Zabrak, Twi'lek. "Ladies..Gentlemen..sit please. Alright, you all know the drill. We are here in case the Jedi negotiations go awry, which, from my experience, probably will. There's no way we can know for sure what might happen. I'm guessing the Sith will stop by with more than a pen in hand. In that case, don't let them get it your way. They will try to crush your morale and flaunt their skills, but you can and will overcome it. Don't hesitate to..to...just keep fighting, alright? Maybe, just maybe, we will be spared, but that maybe is as slim as a famished Mynock. Dismissed."

As the squad cluttered out of the room, Rohn stayed back and leaned against a wall. As soon as the room cleared he bit his lip and took another deep breath. "This is the last one...I promise."

Crozeus

Crozeus watched as the delegacy moved off towards the Republic fleet. The largest of the other Sith ships, Reaper was emitting massive pulses in the Dark Side.

Crozeus returned his attention to the hologram in front of him.

"Are they nerves I detect in your voice Korr?" He spoke in a voice dripping with sarcasm. "Surely you can handle a couple of fat merchants and pathetic Republicans. Don't worry," he added with a sneer, "Your wimps might not even have to fight if the Republic sees sense and gives up their cargo without a fight."

Un-necessarily, he gestured out of the viewport at the Super Star Destroyer. "It's not as if they stand a chance."

The delegate's ship slowly moved closer, a moth in the glow of Felucian light.

Draco Korr

Draco could sense Crozeus's words through the force, and they were dripping with sarcasim; and to make matters worse, Crozeus relished in his bad humor towards Draco. But this did not bother Draco, for he knew that Crozeus had witnessed firsthand the handiwork of the Dark Brotherhood, and this is why he had requested their services. Neither Jedi nor Sith cared for Draco and his clan, but this is only because Draco had discovered that gray area between light and dark and had perfected the art of dwelling in it. In many ways, their arrogance, stubborness, and sad devotions to their religions had blinded them all from the truth. On day, Draco would succeed in uniting all force users under his banner, and when the light and dark could co-exist, he would have brought true balance to the force. His two padawans were proof enough of this. Even though they did not always agree, they cared for one another like brothers. On the battlefield, they worked insync with one another, protecting each other and the guild. They were like fire and water, and together their skills combined into a gracefully flowing inferno...they were unstoppable.

Sirak Sazen

Sirak attempted to get a hold on himself. Every inch of him was screaming in protest against the useless mission. Remembering an old teaching his master had taught him, Sirak maintained his composure and sat deep in meditation. Attempting to block out everything else and listen to the will of the Force was a chore, but he had finally managed to find a point of meditation. The familiar visions haunted him once again.

Screams. Wandering through a corridor without end. A burning world of sin and death with a small gleam. More screams. Unimaginable pain. Betrayal. Those eyes, lifeless and empty staring him down. The darkness rising like a storm over the sea. [i]Fire raining down upon everything he knew. An unseen foe growing in size.[i/]

"Sazen, there's a job to be done." The rough-looking Twi'lek Jedi Master shook him awake, putting an end to the nightmares. The vision had strangely driven out the voices warning him of danger. He now had a new composure. He felt brave and strong and willing to fight off the Sith plague spreading across the Galaxy. It was like a great beast had arisen within him roaring with confidence.

The soft thud of the transport landing within the hangar startled Sirak. He wondered how long the vision had lasted. It felt like hours. Before he could reason any further, the Twi'lek stood up. His face bore the wear of a warrior. "You know the drill. I want you two to watch the ship." He pointed at a pair of Nautolan Jedi who seemed just as nervous as Sirak had been. "Give us a signal if there's a problem." He threw the pair a comlink before turning to his left. "Reese, Toro, Acktii... You'll follow us and and stand guard outside the door. Nobody gets in during the negotiations."

"Raven, Sazen, and Vandus will stand within the meeting place should the negotiations go awry." The following three Jedi - the Twi'lek, Crescent, and a dark-skinned Zabrak that Sirak recognized as a Kolor - were obviously in charge of negotiations. Sirak looked over his fellow enforcers as the transport door swung down. "Edin Raven was a Human and former friend of Sirak's years before. The two had a falling out after a mission on Talus. The other Jedi referred to as 'Vandus' stood behind with his cloak up. Sirak didn't know this man.

The march up to the Sith's meeting room was relatively short, although this could be due to Sirak not paying attention to anything; his mind hovering in space. They had quickly reached the door, dropping off the 3 guards before stepping into the chambers.

Lord Lanik

Invisus watched as the two Jedi strode into the room. Two Zabrak and a Twi'Lek (Correct?). Zabrak for nagotiations? From Invisus had heard, they were more agressive. Invisus fingered the lightsaber hanging at his belt, the one he had made under the tutelage of his now deceased master. Lanik had broadened Invisus' veiw of the Dark Side, but more than anything, had taught him that there was more to pain than psyical hurts. The thought of pain reminded him of the fresh wounds on his chest, the ones that had his cortis weave armor pressing up against them. Every time he moved fresh stabs of pain ran through his body. He savored it each time it happened.

"Ah Jedi, you are back," the he said, not bothering to hide the contempt in his voice. If these Jedi didn't know the nagotiations were fake by now, then they were even more foolish than he thought. "We will try to come to an, exceptable compramise."

Draco Korr

After a couple of minutes, Draco's deep raspy voice seeped out from the darkness of his hood.

"Throttles down. Hold our position here."

"We're not attacking Milord?" came Reaver's deep, surprised reply.

"Not as of yet. By now, the Jedi should have boarded the Sith ship and the negotiations will have been underway by several minutes now. Our orders are only to provide support should the negotiations fail."

It was now Melick's turn, "Forgive me Milord but, why are the fleets needed if negotiations are the only objective?"

"A wise question indeed my padawan. You must reach out with your senses and you will surely come to the same conclusion as I have."

Melick closed his eyes and began to search for his answer.

"Clear your mind of all destractions. Breathe deeply and reach out with your feelings. The force will show you what you want to know and much more. But be cautious when sensing the future. Nothing is set in stone for the future is always in motion. Be mindful of everything is reveals to you."

Draco could sense that he was deep within the force.

"Now tell me Melick, what do you sense?"

"Darkness, cold, deception and death"

"And what of the many possible outcomes?" Draco asked inquisitively.

"Most end in the same manner."

"Exactly, the negotiations are destined to fail, that is the here and now that we must be concerned with. Both sides know that the negotiations will fail and are prepared for war. No doubt this will turn hot in a matter of minutes. But since the future is never clear, we can only ride it's dark currents, and handle it as we see fit. This is where our destinies interfere. And we must trust in the force, and it's reasons for guiding us here."

"But master, why bring only three of us when you knew of the outcome of this situation?"

"Because my padawan, three Brotherhood members is more than enough. Come now, do you honestly think I hadn't made proper preperations? I have put in place a secret plan that only few are aware of. Worry not young one, I have taken my precautions, that is all you need to know. Now hold our position here."

"Yes Master"

Jiub

Draistin watched the negotiations, if they could truly be called that, as he stood near the wall behind Lord Invisus. He was one of the many Sith guards present either in the room, or many of them on other parts of the ship. Draistin was clearly visible to all in the room and Lord Invisus made no attempt to hide his feelings, so neither did Draistin. With all of the Sith in there it was a tense, but powerful room. The Jedi had to know that they were walking into a death trap.

He had a deep hate for the Jedi as most Sith do, and he thought them to be hypocrites and the cause of many of the galaxy's unneeded problems. He might have been forced to join the Sith, but he made no lies of what he or the Sith did. They wanted power, and they would still use their power better than the Jedi ever would.

He continued to stare forward, never looking in one direction or the other. He did not need to, he could sense everything just fine the way that it was. He had spent most of the day already in this room, aiding in preparations and the planning of where to put guards and such. It was a long, tiresome work, but that didn't interfere with his concentration at all right now. He had been looking forward to this.

Sirak Sazen

Sirak stood to the side of the door as the negotiations began. He'd been on countless missions of this type before. Whether it be small factions on the brink of war or trivial border disputes, he never seemed to pay any mind and let the others do the talking. This was different. Danger lurked at every footstep. Sirak was surprised the Sith had even agreed to these negotiations. They were intent on destroying the Jedi and the slowly-rotting Republic. He paid close attention to every detail while shaking the dirty looks of disgust off of him. Every position, the emergency plan; it was all mapped out within Sirak's mind. To his right stood Raven and to Raven's right stood Vandus. In the center of the circular room stood the makeshift diplomats desperate for peace.

The Twi'lek rose to his feet, towering over everybody in the room. "Good evening. I'm Rommilta'vik, Speaker of the Jedi Council." His voice was smooth and calm despite the circumstances. Gesturing to his left he said, "This is Arik Creed, Jedi Master. Beside me is Fox Kolar. I want to get down to buisness." Clearing his throat he spoke, "It's no secret that the Republic along with the Jedi Order have been rather displeased with your recent actions."

Arik Creed talked next. "The Empire's behavior in Republic territory as of late is unacceptable. Now your forces have intruded into Republic space once again. You threaten innocent Republic merchants on Felucia. You are requested to leave at once. Bloodshed will not help anybody. Not your friends, not mine, not anyone." Sirak noticed the cold glances made by Fox Kolar at the Sith. He didn't seem to want any part of the conversation.

The cool voice of Rommilta'vik flooded the room once more. "We come with a peace offering. You may keep all Imperial terrirories and remain undisturbed by the Republic and the Jedi. Remain free to prosper in exchange for your forces not intruding in Republic territory." The room fell quiet waiting for the Sith Lord's response.

Crozeus

Lord Malice smirked, an ugly expression further distorting his features. The Yuuzhan Vong stared directly into the Jedi speaker's eyes and remained silent. The other Jedi shuffled their feet uneasily at the Sith Commander's stoicism, but the speaker patiently awaited a response.

"Peace is a lie."

His voice, deep and guttaral, rang out through the chamber. The Sith guards behind Malice couldn't resist smiling at the response.

Malice held no more emotion in his eyes. "Felucia is not a Republic colony either, Jedi. We are as entitled to be here as you are."

He stretched his arms backwards, over his head. The scars that riddled them opened up, blood streaking down his body. The Jedi recoiled in disgust, yet Malice simply smiled.

"We will prosper no matter what. We have power, and through that power will come our victory."

Malice sweeped his hand towards the viewport, where the Super Star Destoyer hung menacingly in the void of space.

"Why don't you leave and stop trying to bribe worlds to join you so your fat merchants grow richer?"

Sirak Sazen

All six Jedi in the room knew that this show of diplomacy was destined to fail. It was only a matter of waiting now. "Peace is a lie." Sirak had heard these words before in one of his dreams. A Sith teaching. What could it mean?

Fox Kolar seemed to take offense to the Sith's last comment. He rose out of his slump with a look of disgust on his face. "The Jedi have nothing to do with the Republic. We are keepers of the peace. If you don't want to take their offer, so be it. You will take my offer." The anger was visibly boiling over.

"That's enough, Fox." The Twi'lek gave him a cold stare and sat him down, whispering to him.

Arik spoke. "We all know why you're here today. Don't act like you people are innocent and we won't pretend the Republic is. Your power is meaningless to us. You will break the Galaxy. The deal has been made, take it or leave it. Just know that freedom and peace will be defended with a power beyound your comprehension."

Crozeus

Malice smiled as the Jedi fought back their anger.

"Keepers of the peace? Then why do you make demands of us? If you keep peace, surely you must not fight? It proves how foolsih your cause is when you act like noble peace-keepers, yet you send countless thousands to their deaths when it could be avoided if you just surrendered.

We would allow the Jedi to coexist with us, yet you can't hold back your bloodlust," he gestured at the aggresive Jedi, "for too long."

Malice stood up, extending himself to his full two-metre height. "Unless you have any more barely disguised threats to make, this meeting is over."

Sirak Sazen

After settling Fox down, Rommil responded to the Sith. "If that is what you wish, than so be it. You will gain nothing of this. The negotiations have failed for you, Lord Invisus. May the Force be with you." Sirak eyed down the enforcer from the Empire standing across from him. He was staring into space as if nothing had happened.

The negotiators turned to leave, protected on all sides by the Jedi guards. The confrontation was just as pointless as expected. Nothing had happened. If anything, they had made more enemies. Arik gave his Padawan a hearty pat on the shoulder as they made their way down the hall. "Good job in there, Sirak." Though he hadn't really done anything, he took the compliment all the same. Arik leaned in a little closer and whispered. "No more brining that ruddy Kolar along." As they boarded the transport, Sirak couldn't hold back a little chuckle.

Crozeus

Malice grinned wickedly, as the Sith delegation turned and returned to their shuttle. The meeting had gone as planned.

"We may have gained nothing from the negotiation, foolish Jedi, but it remains to be seen what else we can do," Malice sent through the Force in a message he knew the Jedi would recieve.

He strode happily onto the shuttle and started the return to his Destroyer.

Sirak Sazen

As the enemy fleets sat poised for battle, Ghost Squadron flew its routine patrol mission throughout the Republic warships searching for anything out of the ordinary. Kel Sazen piloted her X-Wing gracefully over the surface of Liberator.

"Watch it Ghost-2. This is a patrol mission not a carnival," blared the voice of Prongs over the comlink as the team weaved around a another squadron.

"Sorry, cap." Kel repositioned her starfighter level to the others. "Nothing out of the ordinary. You're losing altitude Ghost-7." Her mind seemed to drift off into the unknown. She peered sideways at the Imperial starship floating in isolation. Her brother was in that ship. She hoped he was alright. Here reverie was cut off by Prongs' snarly voice.

"Ghosts, just got word from the commander. The Jedi's negotiations fail. Watch your tail. I don't know what's going to happen next." His voice crackled and died out over the comlink. Everything was silent.

Xander Vos

"Mandalore, it seems that the Jedi negotiations have failed," Yuro Koss exclaimed from the comm. panel.

"This means war," Mandalore said, "Ready the drop ships, and order Formation Zhett be put into effect, we don't want to let any one through."

"Yes sir."

Jiub

Draistin was disappointed that the negotiations didn't turn into a battle, but at least there would be a battle very soon. He followed Lord Malice unto the shuttle, curious as to what would happen next. For the moment, nothing, but he had woken up this morning already preparing for a battle, and he would not be deprived of it.

He looked at the star destroyer as they got closer to it. It kept getting larger and larger until it filled the viewport. "Foolish Jedi" he thought to himself with a smirk, "just don't know when to give up."

Darth Splinter

Rohn's comlink blinked before him. He was only to be paged if the situation was urgent.

"Yes?"

"Lieutenant Verrater, this is command. Captain wants you to get your sqaud on a boarding shuttle ASAP. The Jedi negotiations didn't end well, and there is no telling what the Sith might do. If they attack, your sqaud might have to board their frigate."

"Yes sir."

Sirak Sazen

Sirius sat in a status of forced meditation. The coming storm grew darker every day. The dawn of war was now upon them. The Order's next move was critical. Thoughts from all over flooded his mind. The dreams he had been having for so long were starting to make sense. Everything fit. It was a prophecy. Today was the day of reckoning, the day that would test everything they knew.

The dorm door slid open casting bright light into the pitch black room. Sirius Attero stared into nothing. His blindness overcome by the Force. He could see like no other. "Sorry sir. You asked me to keep you informed." The soldiers voice began to crack under intimidation. "The negotiations seem to have failed. The fleet is gearing up."

Sirius rose to his feet. His icey eyes stared the man into submission. The soldier walked away and Sirius re-sealed the door. He rummaged through his belongings piled in a corner until he found what appeared to be a transparent cube covered in strange runes. In strange tongues he muttered to the cube as it began to glow a strange green. A miniature figure draped in thick cloak appeared above the cube.

"Master, the Jedi's plans have failed. We will be at war soon. I'll meet you at the rendezvous point."

The glowing figure remained silent for a moment before making its reply. "Very well. We shall take position. Do not miss our rendezvous."

"Yes, master." The cube became dim and the figure disappeared plunging the room again into darkness. "All according to plan."

Darth Fectum

Darth Fectum sat in the shuttle with an evil grin on his face.
"The Jedi were lucky that I wasn't present , otherwise I would have unleashed my 'Sith Teachings' upon them without question."
Fectum was ruthless and would do anything to get what he wanted. Even sith were afraid of him.
"Where shall we go next?"

Crozeus

Malice frowned, accentuating the scars on his face. "We are going back to Reaper, Fectum. I will relay what happened, and we will await orders from the Emperor." The Yuuzhan Vong was worried that Fectum's bloodlust was outrunning his judgement.

Drake Marsee

Drake was on the floor of the harsh, colorful, and dangerous planet of Felucia. His brown leather apparel and brown cloak seemed to make him stick out like a sore thumb against all of the greens, blues, and yellows of the colorful planet floor. His bright yellow eyes that seemed to peirce through iron was the only element of his face that seen, his other facial features were concealed under a white and red mask. This mask was made out of Wampa bone, and had been crafted into an appropriate face gaurd for Drake.

There was a sound of something walking behind Drake, the leaves and fungi were rattling as the feet of that person were stepping on them. There was a figure cloaked in bright green robes that were trimmed in dull orange, with an orange cloak to match. The figure walked beside of Drake and placed a soft grip on his shoulder.

"Master, I sense something is happening above the planet and in its atmopshere." The figure's light and feminine voice spoke to Drake's ear. The figure lowered her hood and revealed a beautiful Twi'lek woman, who's skin was as beautiful and green as the flora and funa that covered the area around them. She stood merely 5' 8" and was tiny compared to massive 6'3" Zarbrak, Drake Marsee.

Drake chuckled as he spoke, "I sensed this too, Nawara Taa. But, we must wait for Draco and then we will know what to do next." Nawara nodded and they slipped into the shadows of Felucia.

Draco Korr

Draco activated the holo transmitter on his comunications console on the Death's Hand. Seconds later, a tiny blue transparent Drake appeared in front of him. "Yes Milord?"

"Drake, The negotiations have failed as we have forseen. Charge up the ion cannon and get your crew to their battle stations. When I am ready, I'll begin transmitting coordinates to you, you will fire the ion cannon toward these quadrants of space on my word."

"Verygood Milord. It will be done." With that, the transmission crackled, flickered, and died. Reaver and Melick both remained calm but Draco could sense their surprise through the force.

"I told you I had taken my precautions. A couple of days ago, I assigned Lord Marsee two squads of technicians, an apprentice, an ion cannon, a squad of brotherhood soldiers, a few heavy laser turrets, and all the supplies to set up a temporary base. I stationed them on Felucia and had them set up camp for all Sith troops. They have cleared out surrounding areas for landing allies and supplies for our troops. We are set for a full scale surface attack."

Sirak Sazen

Rommilta'vik gazed over the readied warships from inside the bridge of Liberator. Safely aboard the ship, he searched through the Force for an answer to the dozen questions swimming throughout his mind. Should we stay and keep the peace? Should the Jedi leave the Republic to deal with this? What if war broke out; would the Order stay to fight? What will the other Council members say? The Twi'lek turned back to watch the crew's reactions to the news of the news of the Jedi's failure. They seemed busy setting coordinates, contacting other ships. One officer even made contact with the Chancellor.

The silence was thankfully broken by the entrance of Rommil's Padawan, a young Nautolan named Kylar. She walked past the officers and guards with a look of concern spread across her face. "Master, we've lost contact with a Jedi on the surface. He was supposed to be scouting out some territory for a Republic landing party. I'm worried."

Her master thought the situation over for a moment. "Don't worry about that now. You're mind needs to be elseware at the moment. A storm is coming. Stay strong" Rommil turned to a Republic officer listening in on their conversation. "Do you want to make yourself useful? Search for a signal down there. If he's hurt it will be on your conscience. He turned back to face his distraught Padawan. "Who's gone missing, Kylar?"

"Sirius Attero."

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"So were do we go from here from here, master?" Sirak didn't seem that worried that they had failed their mission. He was just too happy to be alive.

"Well, that's up to the Council." Arik Crescent's booming voice echoed down the corridor of the ship. "Tavik's in charge of us. It'll only be a matter of time before he sends us off somewhere. I don't mind fighting 'em up here, but that planet gives me the chills."

Not many things scared Arik Crescent and Sirak was aware of that. Whatever awaited them on the planet's surface was not something Sirak never wanted to face.

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Ghost Squadron blazed through open space yet again on another patrol run. "I wish something would happen. I'm sick of flying around waiting for them to start shooting at us." Bendak's voice buzzed over the comlink. He would have usually been scolded for making a comment like that, but Kel Sazen knew the everybody, even Prongs, was feeling the same way. Anxiety was taking its toll.

Out of nowhere, an panicked voice buzzed over the comlink. "ATX 122....requesting immediate....under fire....ATX...." Kel glanced over to the side, shocked at what she was witnessing. An unarmed freighter was under fire from an Imperial ship. The distressed voice beamed over the comlink requesting for help as it was ripped to pieces by now half a dozen enemy frigates.

Prongs voice shouted throughout the cockpit. "Attention RC3. This is Ghost-1 requesting permission to engage hostiles at Angels 3. No, sir. We're under attack....gah. Ghosts! Do your job."

Lord Invictus

"Negotiations have failed?" Invictus inquired, gazing briefly at one of his army-officers.

"Presumably, sir."

"Is the Sterblichkeit armed?" the Sith lord grumbled, nearly falling to his knees as the capitol ship quivered under fire.

"Yessir, as you leave, shall we give them artillery fire?" the captain asked as Invictus climbed into the Sterblichkeit's cockpit.

"Presumably, sir," Invictus snidely commented, speeding out of the hangar.

_______________________________

Almost immediately after exiting the hangar, Invictus began launching torpedoes. The enemy wasn't far... firing from the hangar would be extremely accurate, let alone actually moving closer to the enemy's capitol ships.

Bursts of flame erupted wherever Invictus let loose another proton torpedo. Fighters flew in formation everywhere: obviously some of the better trained men in the Sith fleet.

Invictus swerved tightly, avoiding artillery fire. The dogfighting had begun....

Darth Fectum

Fectum was growing impatient now." Are we closer to master?" This shuttle ride was taking longer than Fectum expected and he was considering killing the pilot and manuvering it himself.

Crozeus

The shuttle, under fire from several batteries, recieved an escort as it docked in the Reaper. Commander Malice disembarked and immedietly climbed into his own ship, talking on the com-link. The other Sith and the guards who had formed the delegacy jumped into their personal craft and took off to join the ensuing battle.

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

Crozeus smiled as his Destroyer incinerated another squadron of fighters with the GARDIAN close combat systems. A medium sized frigate drifted about 4 kilometres away in front of them, and Crozeus smiled cruelly. "Let's give them a little taste of our weapon."

The large tube mounted on the front of his Destroyer, running from the bridge to the nose, glowed green, a large ball of energy growing at the tip. It suddenly sent a stream of energy like a mini Death Star into the hapless frigate which was decimated apart.

The bridge crew cheered and Crozeus gave orders to the weapons crew to select another target.

Darth Fectum

Fectum walked to the command bridge of the ship. "Admiral, report."
The admiral turned around clearly annoyed at the fact that he was taking orders from a thirteen year old."Everything is going quite swimingly, I expect a victory for the sith."

Fectum smiled,"Good, I sense a landing party." Fectum walked towards the hangar and saw many guards being killed. He made his presense known by by picking up an enemy and forcing him through the shuttle's cockpit windshield.

Drake Marsee

Drake, after just recieving the orders from Draco, turned and looked to Taa, "I have our orders and this short scouting party is over. Lets get back to our camp and prep the ion cannons and ready the troops."

Taa bowed and her soft voice replied, "Yes Master." And they both started to sprint back into the shadows of the fungi covered land, and after several minutes they were greeted by several Brotherhood Soldiers. They were covered in sleak black armor from head to toe, and each were sporting a DC-17 Blaster Rifle.

"Base is setup, Milord. I think you will be pleased with the results as well, Master Drake." The one in the middle of the three troopers said, he was wearing an orange pauldron. Obviously, this was a higher ranking trooper.

"Yes, lets move out toward the base then." Drake spoke with his light, but very stern and firm toned voice. All five of them then made there way to the base, and within 10 minutes they were in view of a fairly small but dangerous base.

There was an ion cannon placed in the side of a large tree, facing at an angle pointing toward space. There were several outposts built for temporary use, along with several technicians working on getting several heavy laser turrents up around the perimeter. The large tree that had the ion cannon placed on the side of it, blocked the north side of the base from being attack. The other sides of the base had several heavy laser turrents up, for the defensive and offensive attacks of the base. Drake also had a couple Dark Brotherhood Troopers stationed in the large tree, these were snipers and helped deeply for the bases protection.

Sirak Sazen

There was a mighty crash and Liberator shook. Commands blared over the speakers and troops hurried down the halls of the cruiser. Arik was busy talking on his comlink. He looked back towards Sirak. "Let's go. Tavik wants us on the bridge now." Sirak nodded and the pair rushed through the corridors against the flow of officers and pilots and engineers. Another great crash rocked the ship. The lights flickered on and off and panicked crewman smashed into each other. "I think our shields are down. This ship wasn't built for battle."

Up the tube-shaped elevator to the bridge, they were greeted by a distressed Kylar. Sirak patted her on the shoulder and hurried with his master towards Rommilta'vik. The Twi'lek towered over both Sirak and Arik. His stone face took on a look of frustration as another frigate was lost just beyound Liberator. "Master Tavik. You wanted us?" Arik always had a great respect for him and it showed in his voice.

"Yes, Arik. I don't recall asking Sirak to come along." He was practically shouting now over the roar of gunfire and the yelling of the other officers crowded in the bridge.

"My apologies, Master. Sirak is a fine Jedi. I wouldn't come here today without him." Sirak glanced over at Arik, who gave him a little wink.

"Very well. We've lost contact with several of our operatives stationed on Felucia including a Jedi Knight. We fear the worst. I want you and Sirak to go down with a platoon of Republic soldiers to reinforce our outpost and investigate what's happened down there. Do you understand?" Both Sirak and Arik nodded. "Good. Report to hangar 3 immediately. May the Force be with you. I have other matters to attend to."

Rommilta'vik turned away to speak with another officer. The pair of Jedi spun around and walked towards the exits. Sirak spoke first. "What do you think happened to them, master?"

Arik shook his head. "Probably an acklay or something got to them. Don't worry. We'll get 'em. Felucia," he gave a little grunt, "I knew I'd hate this day."

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At Prongs' command, Kel and the rest of Ghost Squadron zoomed towards to lifeless trade ship. "Attack formation two. Good luck." The team spread out as enemy fire began to rain down opon them. Prongs' cool voice buzzed. "Easy. Easy. Almost in range and..... fire torpedoes." Kel pressed the little red button on her joystick and a pink flash zoomed out from under her. Others just like it were speeding as the enemy frigates and landing with small explosions. It was a lost cause, however. The small trade ship let out one last bang before crumbling into pieces over Felucia. All fire was now directed at the squadron. "Get the hell out now!"

The team broke apart and flew throughout the battlefield. "This is Ghost-1. We lost Ghost-6. New objective. There's an ace ripping apart our fighters. Mid-sized Sith fighter at Bravo level. Ghosts engage." Kel make a sharp turn and spotted the Sith fighter making a nose-dive. The chase was on.

Lord Invictus

The Sterblichkeit still moved silently and- generally- unseen in the battle. It's matte black paint blended against the equally dark galaxy. Along with the cloaking devices attached and "silenced" engines, the Sterblichkeit was a force to be reckoned with.

Invictus zoomed through the crumbling wreckage of a trade ship, letting loose a barrage of laser-machine gun fire on a (non-Ghost Squadron) fighter. It almost immediately crumpled to bits, flying in all directions.

A bullet grazed Invictus' wing, sending the Sith's notice to a "special" fighter behind him: a challenge?

Invictus let loose a cloud of charcoal-colored smoke from his engines, giving him the cover he needed to get behind his attacker. Letting firing a string of bullets, Invictus tore through the armor of his enemy's left wing, sending the fighter speeding off to seek aid... or to its death.

"I need some help out here.... all officers in the hangar unoccupied: board fighters and enter the fight!" Invictus ordered to his army and navy soldiers (the authority of a Sith Lord and his... persuasive abilities with the force could convince many to give him command).

"Yessir," was the immediate response from at least fifteen officers in many hangars.

"I see I have much aid..." Invictus snickered- very much unlike him.

Viiiiz...

An artillery missile nearly snagged Invictus' right wing (it would have been his end). The Sith Lord dove below the enemy frigate, giving him time to disguise his ship again.

Crozeus

Crozeus watched from the bridge of The Exiled and determined he could no longer stand it. "XO Trawley has the deck," he announced, before leaving the bridge and taking the turbolift to the hangar. He arrived in a few seconds and boarded his personal snubfighter, the Masar's Revenge. It was armed with two laser cannons, a proton torpedo launcher and two beam weapons over the canopy. Combined with it's speed and shielding, the Revenge was a force to be reckoned with, especially with a Sith at the helm. He took off and Shadow Wing, his own squadron, followed him from their personal hangar.

It was not long before they entered the fray, and began to tear the pathetic opposition apart. Crozeus looked for a target and saw a Nebula Destroyer not far off. He sent out a Force signal and Shadow Wing escorted a flight of TIE bombers to it. They began to engage the Destroyer.

Drake Marsee

Drake was helping several technicians with the ion cannon, while Taa his Jedi Apprentice began to clear a small area in the base. This was where any of his allies could hopefully land, if needed to.

There was noise from the atmosphere from up above, and one of the technicians spoke to Drake, "It seems that the negotiations have failed, milord."

Drake chuckled as he layed a firm grip on the man's shoulder, "Of course they failed. If they were not intended to fail, then we wouldn't be here on this God forsaken hell hole of a planet. I have only been on this dangerous world twice, and I was hoping that two times would be enough, but hopefully three times really is the lucky one."

Darth Fectum

Fectum picked up the shuttle and threw it towards the enemies. A few scrambled out of the way just in time to avoid the explosion . He noticed another landing party aproaching so he blocked the opening with the remains of the shuttle.
He ignited his staff lightsaber and flung it at one infiltrator sending him against a wall. Another one came at him but he just electricuted him to death. He retreived his lightsaber at the same time as the enemy blasted through the debris. He flung his lightsaber into the cockpit forcing the ship down. " I want all guards down here at once." He yelled into his com-link .

Sirak Sazen

Sirak Sazen and Arik Crescent were greeted in the hangar by the same hooded figure who they had met on the negotiation mission before. They still didn't know much about this person. He or she had remained silent throughout the mission. It was time for a proper meeting. "Greetings my friends." The cool voice escaped from beneath the hood. The man raised his gloved hands to his head and lowered his hood. The pair of Jedi standing before him nearly gasped. His glowing red eyes seemed to be beaming from witin his light blue, skinny face. His midnight black hair was short but thick. A Chiss. "My name is Vandus." Liberator rocked from another explosion, sending an engineer to his feet next to the trio. He was barely noticed in the excitement around them all. Vandus continued. "Master Tavik has asked me to go along with you. I promise that my skills will be useful to our objective." Sirak and his master looked at each other for a moment, having a non-verbal discussion before nodding their heads at Vandus and heading for the transport.

Lord Invictus

The Sterblichkeit hovered casually into the hangar bay of a Republic capitol ship (presumably THE Republic capitol ship). The sleek black fighter's cockpit quietly opened, Invictus gliding out with demonic grace.

Almost immediately after taking his first step in the hangar, Invictus had alerted the guards. Two charged toward him, vibroblade bayonets attached to their rifles. Within seconds, one dropped from a spine realignment (caused by Invictus' ever-so-delicate pale left hand), whilst the other simply skewered himself on Invictus' blade.

Invictus' head never turned as blaster fire came at him: he had no eyes, so why would it? Instead, he merely deflected them from his back, continuing on his path of destruction to find- or hope to find- the enemy command centre.

Sirak Sazen

The damage done to Liberator could be clearly seen outside of the transport window. Streams of blues and reds flew across the battlefield as the team gently floated towards the jungle world of Felucia. Sirak could just make out the iconic image of a Ghost Squadron formation. "That's a relief," Sirak said. "Kel's okay. You see? That's her fighter." He pointed it out to the others. Arik flashed a trademark smile. Throughout the years, he and Kel had become closer. Vandus -on the other hand- had never met Sirak's sister. He remained frozen in obvious thought. Little was known about the Chiss to the others in the craft. The three soldiers joining them in the transport seemed intimidated by him. Vandus' red eyes were more than enough to instill a bit of fear in anybody.

The transport's lone pilot turned to the team. "We're entering the atmosphere Hang on, everybody." He pulled a handle and the viewports all shut, leaving the ship in momentary darkness until a pair of glowlights activated. The ship began to gradually shake more and more as they entered the realm of Felucia.

"All right, everyone." Arik Crescent's calm voice was enough to reassure anybody. "Let's make this quick. We need to reestablish a communication with the outpost and find the lost Jedi. Knowing Sirius, we might need to dig. It'll be getting dark on the surface soon. Haste is a priority. Keep it clean down there. Watch each other's back. This should be fairly simple."

There was an empty feeling in the pit of Sirak's stomach that the job wouldn't be simple. Perhaps it was the Force giving him a warning. He wondered if the others could feel it. Something was very wrong.

Sirak Sazen

OOC: I'm going to try an ressurect a few old roleplays.

New alarms sprang to life on Liberator, inciting panic in those on the bridge. "Captain, give me a status report!" Tavik barked. A visibly shaken human gave the news from within his seat at the back of the room.

"An emeny craft landed in the main hangar. According to the holocams, the target appears to be a..." he paused for a moment, obviously disturbed at what he saw. "A Sith." Audible gasps around the room told the story. Nobody would ever imagine a Sith aboard Liberator and everybody knew what could happen.

Tavik stood perfectly still, apparently thinking out the situation within his mind. There were no more Jedi left one the ship. Tavik was the last one. "I'll go." His words were little more than a whisper. "I'll go take care of the Sith," he said again, louder. "Captain, you're in charge. If there are any problems, I'll have this." Tavik picked a comlink off the panel next to him and held it in the air for the captain to see. "If something should happen to me, alert the other ships of our situation and seal the blast doors." Tavik left his robe on a chair and walked out of the bridge.

The Jedi was in deep meditation for the coming fight, ignorant to the dead and grisly wounded being carried away from the hangar and the constant rocking of the ship. Tavik was shocked at what he saw when he finally reached the bay. Dead were strewn about like rag dolls and the menacing figure was still chopping away with his lightsaber. "That's enough!" Tavik yelled across to the being. "This madness ends now." And with that, two metallic lightsabers were drawn and ignited; one in each hand. Tavik took his stance and was ready to fight.