"Hallowed Eve" (Military, Open)

[DarthDarkCloak]

[Sniper Tondry]

Pierce Tondry sat in the office Isard had abandoned in her departure from Coruscant, staring at the newly replaced door in thought.

Operation Long Knives had been a surprise attack against the Marzullo forces that had succeeded through sheer force in numbers. The ships involved had been pressed into fierce battle for hours by their commanders, hours which were probably just as taxing on the troops that won as on those that had managed to escape. Ships that had managed to claim victory over their enemies by hurling themselves at each other over and over until they won were no good in a prolonged fight.

That sort of strategy had so many holes in it, it begged to be taken advantage of.

Pierce called up the tactical picture his agents had broadcasted to him and began replaying it for the umpteenth time, picking out certain obvious flaws in formation and usage as he went. The fact that he, Pierce, wasn't a fleet commander and knew it made these flaws seem all the more hurtful.

Pierce's eyes watched as one Marzullo-allied ship cruised right into an ambush set by three GMA ships and blown apart, and he shook his head. What a waste of men and hardware. If only there'd been some way of diverting that ship.

Meanwhile, the Marzullos were still at large, no longer being aided by the Caracan military. Their combined forces were weak and needed to be hunted down: a task that required his attention while Isard was away sealing some planetary support alliances for the IIHQ and making peaceful overtures towards others.

Pierce stared intently at the tac-holo of the ship getting wasted again. Perhaps during the current hunt he could make use of the idea he'd just come up with.

Calling up a list of certain contacts he had, Pierce began typing messages. Whenever news of the next military action came, he would be ready to take advantage of it.

Edit: Factual correction.

[DarthDarkCloak]

<font color="Aquamarine">[i]

[Darth Viscera]

Darth Viscera sighed as the shuttle began its landing cycle. The planet Delteon had seemed to be a dying one just 5 years before, with its extroardinarily large population and almost non-existent resources.

Delteon had flourished during the republic, acting as a vital trade hub due to its location. It was right on the border of the mid rim, only light years away from the nearest colonisable systems. Time moved on, and the population of the planet swelled to just over 43 billion, with necessary funding for purchasing food and other necessities coming directly from the colonisation industry. Colonisation meant people would stop over at Delteon to purchase ships and temporary lodging, hire navigators, that sort of thing.

Then, the dark times began. The clone wars erupted into a large scale conflict, if not a war, and a new trade hub was established on the border of the outer rim. The republic, looking to rid itself of those planets which did not provide it with wealth, promptly forced the planet to secede, by secretly installing an anti-republican planetary governor in office.

Once Delteon no longer had the financial aide of the republic, the people began to starve. Deaths outweighed new births by 3.3 billion during one year. There was no food to be eaten on the planet, and no money to buy food.

By the time the Galactic Military Alliance rediscovered the planet, their population had dwindled to just under 24 billion. Imperial edict was placed on the planet, and the population was forcefully reduced to 15 billion, its projected carrying capacity, through the extensive use of ethnic cleansing. Those inhabitants of the planet who were not fully human were summarily executed by stormtroopers from the orbiting ships.

Work was found for the people of Delteon. Unprocessed carbonite was found on the planet and several of its moons, and people worked to build droidworks and other industrial facilities. The builder droids, in turn, built huge shipyards in orbit of the planet.

Finally, Delteon had once again found its place in the sun.

Viscera looked up at the orbiting Ubiqtorate base, Prask station. He stepped out of the shuttle, pulled a comlink from his pocket, and aiming it at the orbiting intelligence base. The comlink beeped once, signifying it had matched the frequency, and a new report was downloaded to his personal datapad.

Viscera took the turbolift up to the top level of the Imperial palace, disembarking in the observation tower. As Viscera walked out of the lift, he noticed two of his guards, clad in their crimson armor and robes, guarding the entryway from the lift, protecting his room from any possible intruders.

The room had been designed by Emperor Palpatine himself, and was dimly lit and slightly cone shaped. The design goal was to produce a building, or room, which could channel Sith energy more efficiently. The design worked, as Viscera felt a sudden rejuvenation when stepping into this large room.

Viscera stepped into his chair, one that looked to be an exact duplicate of a common Star Destroyer captain's chair. He pressed two comm presets on the control arm of the chair, and the holograms of Grand Admiral Darthporeon, and Vice Diktat Guardpiett, appeared.

DV-"I'm briefing you. I just arrived back at Imperial Center from Corellia. TSO has the Marzullo clan contained there, and they will be executed for their crimes soon. We still have one foe left, however, before we take back Coruscant: Gue's empire. We will destroy them, and then we will take back what is rightfully ours, and reestablish the Empi

[DarthDarkCloak]

<font color="Aquamarine">[i]

[GuardPiett]

'Life's a bitch, and then you die..'

Or so goes the quote. But is that true? In it's own way. Life is horrible, a nagging, hateful thing, yet it could be the opposite as well. Bittersweet-- yes, that is the word. You have your posotives, you have your negatives.

And then, there's the part of dying. So very true is the fact that normal citizens and civilians multiply and die like insects, but a rare breed of meta-humans is born among the slums and shantytowns of the normals. Force sensitive, usually. Or with other rare gifts, such as intuition, telekinisis, or downright intelligence, an expanded strategic mind. These people, in a word, were heroes.

Of corse, for every positive action there is a negative reaction, thus there were 'dark' and 'light' heroes. The light? Bringers of peace and justice, reaping the winds of prosperity. The dark? Avatars of evil and shadow, swirling in the hurricane of their own darkness. It was these people, dark or light, that truly lived forever. In the minds of the people.

Sean Piett had long past decided his path. He was now the scythe of the Dark Side, and had no trouble cleaving down the average Joe. His fleets were vast, his fists crackeled with the raw energy of Sith Sorcery. In his
opposite palm, he held the fragile threads of the lives of millions- and in the end, isn't that what really matters? The people? Yes, yes.

The ominous figure of a vast Eclipse-Class Star Destroyer sluggishly pulled itself through space, moving towards Extraction Point, where it would enter hyperspace for the heart of Draco Cystine's operations: Caraca itself. In the elaborately plush captain's command chair sat Sean Piett, relishing a sip of rare Alderaanian ale and nibbling at a chunk of whaladon. He gazed at the holographic images cluttered around him, the views of different points to the ship. Nothing at all besides the dark emptiness of space, all around him.

A single computer to Sean's left bleeped with an artificial anticipation, and a nameless engineer walked up to the commander. "Sir, we have reached Extraction Point."

"Already? Excellent. Enter hyperspace, marks fourfourseven dash fouroneone." The man clicked his heels. "Sir." With that, he turned and walked to the control port. With a burst, the mamouth entered hyperspace...

[DarthDarkCloak]

<font color="Aquamarine">[i]

[DarthDarkCloak]

<font color="Aquamarine">[i]

[DarthDarkCloak]

<font color="Aquamarine">[i]

[DarthDarkCloak]

<font color="Yellow"[i]

[GuardPiett]

"As I was saying, Ambasador La'Chel, the Hapan Cluster can only benefit from a mutual alli-" Piett's smooth diplomatic words were interupted by the harsh yell of the first lieutenant. "Sir! The navigations department reports a miscalculation in the hyperspace jump!"
"Emperor's black bones!" cursed the Grand Admiral. "Lieutenant, report on the severity!"
The man wiped away a small bead of sweat. "Sir, we are nearing Caraca at such a speed that we cannot pull out of hyperspace in time to savoe ourselves! It seems that Caraca has a binary star system, and we ruled that out. Collision in a matter of minutes!"
"Seconds!" [i] screamed a nearby technichian. "Repent!"
"Alright everyone, calm down. Change hyperspace course to deuce-six-niner." Among the terror, only Piett remained calm. "Sir, that could be dangerous as well!"
"Just do it!" growled Piett. "Time is of the essence!"

The ship lurched as the hyperdrive thrusters swiveled and the behemouth continued through hyperspace. "Alright! Pull out of hyperspace now!"

The ESD nearly collided with Caraca. But that didn't matter. The entire crew was lifted up in a state of jubilant uproar that their leader had pulled through for them. As always..

Several minutes later. . .

The doors to the meeting room were flung open as Sean Piett strided in. Several heads turned to look at this late being, paying a silent homage to the grand stature of this crimson figure. "Sorry I'm late, Cystine. Technical error up there." A small twitch of his head pointed up towards space.

The red gauntleted hands reached up and pulled off the same colored helmet. The pomade in his hair slightly reflected the glowrods, giving the red streaks a glowing, phantasm effect. The rubies of his eyes looked at Draco. "Draco, feel free to finish the meeting. I'll be in your office."

With that, Sean swiveled on his heel, helmet in hand, and walked out the door.

[DarthDarkCloak]

<font color="Yellow">[i]

[GuardPiett]

Piett, leaning back against the desk, glances at Cloak being wheeled in.

"Draco, old friend, how are you?"

[DarthDarkCloak]

[Lord Gue]

A loud beeping noise accompanied by a red flashing on DDC's desk interupts Piett in his sentence. As DDC is wheeled over to it he presses the button"Sir, theres a Holonet message here for you""Who from?""Unknown sir, but its from Hoth"

[GuardPiett]

"Lets."


Piett pulls out a book and a small holoprojector. He taps a button on the projector, and the imperial insignia bursts up. He lifts up the book and opens to the fifth or so page.

"Repeat after me. I, Draco Cystin, dutifully pledge my services to the Sovereign Imperial Navy under the Imperial Doctorite for no less than one standard month. I am well aware of the Imperial Order of Sumation and bow to the Imperial Nexus eternaly."

[DarthDarkCloak]

[Lord Gue]

Gue didnt represent himself over the holomatrix, but the holo emiter in the room projected a rather large and elaborate spinning version of the TGE logo. Emporer Gue's voice however did come out onto the other endhttp://www.geocities.com/true_Imperials/Logo.gif"I believe we have matters that need to be discussed...."

[DarthDarkCloak]

"Indeed we do, do continue"

[Lord Gue]

http://www.geocities.com/true_imperials/Logo.gif"My forces are preped and ready for launch, they will be ready for action by this night, is that satisfactory?"

[DarthDarkCloak]

[Darth Viscera]

*18 warships detached from the GMA 3rd Fleet, and hyperjumped to destinations known only by the top GMA officials.*

[Draco Cystine]

[Sniper Tondry]

On the way to his shuttle, Draco was met by a wholly forgettable man in a Lieutenant's suit being escorted by Caracan troops. "Commander Cystine?" the man asks, saluting. "I'm Agent Ludos. I'm supposed to be your liason with Intelligence. Vice-Director Tondry would have come himself, but he has important business in the Outer Rim."

Draco continues to wheel himself forward after the pause, beckoning with a hand. "You are late," he notes.

"It couldn't be helped," Ludos apologizes. "The General's busi- excuse me, I mean the Vice-Director's business required some heavy preparation. He didn't recieve word on this meeting until after he was set to go, and the logistic and diplomatic requirements would have prevented it anyway."

Cystine reaches the shuttle pad. "Director Isard informed me that I would have Intel's full cooperation with this. We do not need anyone working at cross-purposes, or appearing to."

A subtle reference to Operation Long Knives. "The Director and Vice-Director are in full agreement on this, however the Vice-Director has chosen to add several goals of Intelligence's to the plan."

Cystine's eyebrow raises. "Please accompany me aboard my ship and inform me of these goals."

"Yes, sir," Ludos nods.

[GuardPiett]

[i]The sixteen ships had arrived at their destinations.

FLEET I: VORTEX

Super Star Destroyer

Star Destryer

Star Destroyer

Quintar Corvette Mk II

Quintar Corvette Mk II

Quintar Corvette Mk II

Quintar Corvette Mk II

Quintar Corvette Mk II

FLEET II: CHISS

Super Star Destroyer

Star Destryer

Star Destroyer

Quintar Corvette Mk II

Quintar Corvette Mk II

Quintar Corvette Mk II

Quintar Corvette Mk II

Quintar Corvette Mk II


OOC: DDC, contact me SOON, 'tis imperitive!

[Draco Cystine]

<font color="Aquamarine">[i]

[Darth Viscera]

3 GMA fleets emerged from hyperspace at Gand, Taloraan, and Torellian. Each fleet consisted of one SSD and five ISDs. They each transmitted the pre-determined message to their respective planets:

Surrender immediately or be destroyed.

[Lord Gue]

[i]Fresh out of spacedock the ESD's Peace and Time swing out around the Hoth system before entering hyperspace

[Darth Viscera]

OOC~That would take about 6 months, probably more.

[Lord Gue]

OOC: What? A swing around the syste? I didnt say all the way around, and no it wouldnt still, they just took a curved route out of the system before jumping out into hyperspace

[DarthDarkCloak]

[Draco Cystine]

[DarthDarkCloak]

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[Darth Viscera]

*The 3 fleets began bombarding defense platforms and planetary shields, in preparation for a planetary assault.*

[Droid Malay]

[DarthDarkCloak]

<font color="yellow">[i]

[DarthDarkCloak]

[DarthDarkCloak]

[i]

[DarthDarkCloak]

[DarthDarkCloak]

[i]

[DarthDarkCloak]

[Sniper Tondry]

"Ah- discussing the next stage of conquest," Ken Ludos said cautiously. "And Vice-Director Tondry's request that Intelligence be allowed to share in the spoils regarding ships the size of a freighter or smaller."

"If Intel is as helpful as it says it is," Cloak replies smoothly. "Then perhaps it will make some direct gains from the Hallowed Eve celebrations. Where is Tondry, anyway?"

A look of digust washed across Ludos' face. "Negotiating with some select peoples on a profitable exchange," he said sourly.

######

"Yes, I'm sure you do want some money out of this," Pierce interrupted the figure on the comm. "And as I told you, we can barely fund our own operations. The best- and I do mean the best you can get out of this is the acquisition of a capital ship you wouldn't normally be able to lay your hands on."

"And why do we let you in?" the face of a man with a thick black beard asked. "Why can't we just take this- what did you say it was?"

"It's an Endurance-class Fleet Carrier," Tondry growled. "And if you think you can take it by yourselves, you're sadly mistaken. It's a Rebel ship that holds more crew than your entire outfit probably does altogether. My men can help you take it. You keep the ship, we keep half the fighters and get experience fighting our way through Rebel installation defenses."

"Make it all the fighters. You seem to want this pretty bad."

Pierce's eyes narrowed. He was just learning the subtleties of bargaining for things, but to do it on a pirate chief who had spent a lifetime already practicing his technique- "We keep one wing, or else you miss the chance entirely. Remember, Davie, there're other pirate groups out there who will jump at this chance. Your rivals in the Amorris system, for instance."

The pirate chief scowled. "Fine. We meet in two days to discuss details."

"Your place, I presume," Pierce rolled his eyes.

"Damn right my place. Get a move on, Mister Lieger."

[DarthDarkCloak]