[SW] Invasion of Thyferra IC

[ZeroNumerous]

DM

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...

Episode III.V
BATTLE FOR THYFERRA

It is a period of open war. The CONFEDERACY OF INDEPENDENT SYSTEMS failed surprise attack upon CORUSCANT, capital of the REPUBLIC has seen the death of Count Dooku and defeat the evil General Grievous.

A scant week after the battle a task force of Clones led by four brave Jedi Knights arrive above Renas, seventh planet of the Polith System. The Supreme Chancellor Palpatine has ordered the capture of Thyferra, a world central to the production of the miracle fluid BACTA as retaliation for the attempted kidnapping.

Even now evil gathers to defend it's prize. The insidious Darth Sidious sends two powerful minions out to ensure that the valiant Jedi Knights moving to capture Thyferra would not survive the coming conflict....

Confederacy

Cold and unfeeling blackness surrounded the watery world of Thyferra. Hundreds of millions of little insects, humans and droids scurry about their daily lives on it's surface completely unaware of what sits in orbit. A sleek black starship floats serenely over the warm blue gem of a world. It's shields are up, but it's guns are powered down as the captain of the vessel does not expect an attack. Inside the ship's communications room stand two men addressing the floating blue image of a cowled and robed humanoid. He growls in a voice like ground gravel. "The Republic has dispatched a task force to take Thyferra. Be ready as they should be arriving within the week. There will be Jedi leading the battle, and your task is to ensure they die. The world is of little consequence. Burn it if you must, but do not return without their leadership slain."

Republic

Renas. A cold and unforgiving world populated by a race of thick-furred gorilla-like primitives still using clubs and rocks to hunt. The yet-named species first discovered by the Vratix a week prior has been learning however. One of the thirty probe droids dispatched to survey the world for Separatists stopped reporting back yesterday, and your investigation into the incident revealed that it had been ambushed and smashed by a hunting team of the gorillas. They left it's remains where it fell as it was inedible to them. None the less their rate of growth was astounding, and estimates placed them as near-humans in the next hundred thousand years.

The four of you were sent short-range communications to report to Jedi Master Tarkur for a recon mission toward the relatively close by sphere of asteroids that surrounded the Polith system. You all have just departed a transport dispatched from your respective vessels, and step onto the busy hangar of the Venator-class carrier that composed the core of your task force. The Resolution was a spartan vessel in both design and purpose. The first true warship model produced by the Republic in nearly a thousand years. Not since the Battle of Ruusan has a military vessel been the common mode of transport for Jedi, and yet the past two and a half years have shown you more warships than you knew existed in the Republic Navy. Luckily the Resolution was a new, crisp and clean vessel--unlike the Acclamator-I class vessels that made up the bulk of your taskforce.

Clones dash to and fro setting up the Delta-7J Aethersprites you had come to call your own for launch. Eight Eta-2s were being kitted out for launch as well, and you instantly recognized the launch formation as a reconnaissance wave. You were a regular fixture of any recon missions due to your tendency to survive them. The clones were treated as expendable by the Republic higher ups, but you surmise that Tarkur consistently sent you out to ensure they returned as well. None the less, you must still report to Tarkur.

[Mando Knight]

A slender, red-skinned Twi'lek female almost glides down the shuttle ramp. Clad in far less than a normal Jedi, but common for Twi'lek (including Master Secura), her lightsaber is quite visibly hanging from her belt. She looks around to spot her compatriots, then walks towards the lift to the bridge at a speed that would make sure that the others would get there at about the same time.

[Valgunn]

Groza-na Durkona

Standing on the same flight deck as his larger 'Sprite was prepared Groza-na folded his arms. The large orthodox Jedi robe hanging on his large frame concealing the unorthodox battle-ready clothing beneath. Standing almost twice the size of the clone troopers and double abreast he was difficult not to notice. Wasting little time he and his military attache stalk through the ship to the briefing.

[RandomLunatic]

Clad in the traditional robes of the Order, arms folded acroos his chest, Dol seems to glide down the exit ramp onto the deck of the Resolution. Striding along, he is a point of serenity in the chaos of clones and droids going through the pre-flight procedures. He acknowledges his fellow Jedi with a nod, but lets them speak first, if at all.

[The Unborne]

Zef Ur

Before moving out to the next briefing, Zef moved to fasten his Antiox breath mask which had become a habit ever since leaving Dorin. Next, the Kel Dor fixated his protective goggles that sat deep into the crevices of Zef's eye sockets. With everything in place and his traditional jedi robes in order, the Kel Dorian jedi exited from his quarters en route to the flight deck.

The Kel Dor nods respectfully to his fellow jedi as he enters the deck. After a few brief minutes of looking at the passing droids and clones, Zef started a soft swooshing noise with his voice, to the uneducated the noise would have sounded like a soft breeze passing through the area, but others would know it as the whistling of the Kel Dors.

Are we in that tense of a situation? No one seems to be talking...I guess I'll just play it the same. Nothing comes good from disturbing the universe.

[ZeroNumerous]

Clones

Your ears, or approximations of them, are assailed by the same voice repeated in varying octaves as you travel up the flight deck and toward the turbolift that would take you to the bridge. Everything from shouts to speed it up to shouts to slow things down. From demanding ammunition to demanding less ammunition. There's even a shout or two for a droid and a medic. The clones are as always: Total and all consuming chaos in human form.

Your attaché; the clone commander of one of the four regiments that make up the fleet, marches slowly and quietly behind you. They were all original survivors of Geonosis, and subsequently were all battle-hardened veterans who never seemed to soften up to your attempts to humanize them. Delta-001, attaché to Groza-na. Gamma-001, attaché to Zef Ur. Epsilon-001, attaché to Dol Korin. And finally Beta-001, semi-dysfunctional attaché to Ja-Ria Ken. Each man looked like the last down to the slightly graying tinges of their hair, and that was entirely normal given their birth status.

You recognize one clone standing at the far end of the flight bay. He was armored and helmeted, the second of which was marked with three black lightning bolts down the left cheek and up over the eye. RC-2332, better known as "Eightball", stands ready and at attention at the turbolift. Ever the loner, 'Eightball' remains rather distant from the other clones but you also notice the other clones aren't exactly trying to be friendly.

[ChronicLunacy]

Castor Roane

"I understand, my Lord. Vindicator out." an almost tired or irritated voice replied from a similarly black-clad figure standing in front of the holo-projector. Castor Roane, warlord of Junius VII and dead man as far as the Jedi order was concerned, turned around and stepped off of the transmission platform, sweeping his gaze across the for the most part empty transmission room. The room was set apart from the rest of the ship so that the Nemodian or droid crew wouldn't be able to listen in. Realistically, the droids didn't care either way but Castor never trusted mechanicals. They were subject only to their programming. Loyalty was an alien and biological concept.

Castor reached up with gloved hands and adjusted the collar of his trench-coat, which swept down to his knees, calling attention to red-rimmed brown eyes set in a high-cheekboned face with a strong jaw. He was attractive, but seemed tired, as if his spirit had been stretched somehow. No matter the effect it had on his appearance, he was still tall and powerful. A thirty-centimeter metal cylinder swung from one of his utility belt loops, looking less like a construct and more like something he'd grown out of polished hematite with a rough, leather grip wrapped around the middle. A bandolier of what looked to be ammo pouches was slung over his shoulder.

"Brothers and sisters, champions of peace and justice, blindly charging into the fray as usual... You'll meet only death on Thyferra." he said in that same tired tone, his sallow eyes closing.

[Bariko]

Sien Sep

"Nice mission parameters. Kill the Jedi, and screw the rest," came from the second figure as the holoprojector dimmed. Grabbing a helmet, the figure moved towards the entrance to the rest of the ship, before pausing and looking at Castor. "You're certainly awfully dour, aren't you?"

The light had illuminated the Sullustan's features, the large ears and jowls casting an almost humorous silhouette. Occasionally, people wondered aloud if he wore his helmet to avoid being underestimated. In truth, being underestimated was a good thing for people who did what he did. Heading towards a small area, Sien pushed past several droids--he was at ease with them, as opposed to Castor. Glancing over what appeared to be a heavily modified rifle, the Sullustan nodded appreciatively. "And they say you can't find good help these days..." he muttered, packing a bandolier and preparing his flight suit.

[ZeroNumerous]

Republic

The ride to the bridge lasts but a minute. You're treated to a view of the bustling nerve center of the Resolution. Clones work quietly and quickly at their workstations like the nodes of an organic brain, droids dash to and fro cleaning and repairing the many workstations but the one thing that catches your eye the most is the calm and placid figure standing in front of a glass viewport at the far end of the bridge. To say the Mon Calamari Jedi was old would be a vast understatement, and it showed as the wrinkled bulbous head slowly turned only to the left and stopped only half way. The Mon Cal's left eye swiveled about to look toward the Jedi arrivals in both a show of surprise for your quickness, and unbeknown to you a way to watch both you and the world below.

"I expected you to take your time in getting here. I suppose you are still young in the ways of the world and eager to dive into battle, no?" The mon cal nods at this then turns his head back to the viewport in front of him. "As you may already have guessed, I will be dispatching you on a recon mission to Xaltax, the second of Thyferra's moons. You'll be forced to use external hyperdrive rings, and as such should strive to protect them. Your mission is to do short range recon around the moon and verify whether it's shielded or not. If it is, it's our main goal. If it isn't, then we'll use it as a staging point for our invasion proper. Any questions?"

[ChronicLunacy]

Castor Roane

"Nice mission parameters. Kill the Jedi, and screw the rest," came from the second figure as the holoprojector dimmed. Grabbing a helmet, the figure moved towards the entrance to the rest of the ship, before pausing and looking at Castor. "You're certainly awfully dour, aren't you?"

"Dour, no. Resolute, yes." Castor replied, his eyes narrowing as he walked beside his Sullustan companion. "I want to meet them face to face, one by one, and hear their blood turn to vapor upon the blade of my lightsaber. I take the murder of my former comrades very seriously, Sien. You and I can toast their memory afterward, but for now I will keep my composure, if you don't mind."

Castor clasped his hands at the small of his back as they walked. "We have a lot to do, my friend. Let's prepare. I'll meet you in the hangar." he said in parting as he abruptly turned at an intersection and headed down another way.

[Mando Knight]

Ja-Ria speaks up first among her Jedi companions. "Just one, Master. Will it just be the Jedi commanders, or are we bringing in clones for backup? If we run into a fight, it would be good to have some extra firepower..."

[ZeroNumerous]

Republic

The Mon Calamari master nods. "Of course you'll be escorted by clones to the location and back. They'll be piggy-backing off your hyperspace jump so expect to travel a little bit slower than necessary. Unfortunately this also means you'll have to line up in formation before jumping there or jumping back."

[Bariko]

Sien

Sien headed down the corridor with his... companion? Friend? Whatever, he was glad Castor was on his side. "Toast them? Sure, if you want. I'm always willing to have a drink," turning, he chuckled. As he headed to grab the necessary gear, he turned back and called to Castor. "Where exactly are we going, anyways? Just recon, see if the Jedi are around? I'm assuming I'll order some droids to come along, in any event."

[Valgunn]

Groza-na

"They are not needed, the four of us, we are overkill for such a simple mission as it is. Why risk the lives of more than needed?" His deep voice echoed from his mouth, using the vast network of tubes to push air up and form the words that made Basic. He shuffled, he disliked being called eager, certainly considering his idiom to carefully consider an action. He had carefully considered his part in this war too, he had chosen to push himself to become the warrior the Republic needed. "Is there something you are not telling us that makes the clones needed?"

[ZeroNumerous]

Republic

The Jedi master shook his head. "If you're found out while scouting then someone will need to protect the hyperdrive rings while you fight. A squad of clones is more than enough for this task."

[Mando Knight]

"What will the clones be flying? If the Separatists send anything heavier than fighter squadrons after us, I'd feel better if we had Y-Wings or ARCs with us."

[ZeroNumerous]

Republic

The Jedi shakes his head again. "Even if we had Y-Wings, I wouldn't spare any of the few bombers we do have for a recon mission. Anything heavier than a fighter can be evaded or avoided and I suggest you do so."

[Mando Knight]

"Huh? Oh! Of course. Then they'll be taking V-Wings, I suppose?"

[RandomLunatic]

Dol mutters to Ja-Ria, "Remember the Eta-2s?"

"About the escorts, Master. The more we bring, the longer it will take us to jump. Eight escorts might be more of a liability than an asset, if a quick retreat is needed. I think half that number would suffice."

[ZeroNumerous]

Republic

The old Jedi master chuckles softly. "And here I thought you were still padawans for a moment. Remember boys, the Jedi are not invincible warriors. However, if you feel the need then I'll let you launch with only four guards." Tarkur turns back to the viewport watching over Renas. "The clones should be ready for launch in a minute. You should be down on the flight deck and ready by then. Becareful, and may the Force be with you."

[ChronicLunacy]

Castor Roane

As he headed to grab the necessary gear, he turned back and called to Castor. "Where exactly are we going, anyways? Just recon, see if the Jedi are around? I'm assuming I'll order some droids to come along, in any event."

"Just a stroll around the block. Prep your fighter and I'll take care of the arrangements." Castor replied in a raised voice that was somehow not quite calling or shouting before rounding the corner. Droids and assorted alien crewmen crawled over each other in the narrow corridors to get out of Castor's way, casting fearful glances in his direction while trying desperately not to make eye-contact. The dark jedi could taste their fear. It wrapped around him, making him stronger. The droid crew did not feel fear the same way the biological entities did, but they did their best to keep clear of Castor nonetheless.

He entered a prep room that had been set aside for his private use and removed the heavy trench coat, utility belt, and ammo bandolier he'd been wearing. Underneath was a not-quite skin-tight, black body-glove that ran all the way up to encircle his forehead and run across his cheeks. It had excellent range of movement plus a few storage pouches on his thighs for useful items. It also was part of a customized flight suit. All Castor had to do was add the dedicated flight gear such as the helmet, which he slung underneath his arm for the moment. He checked the chronometer/commlink on his right wrist and engaged the air-tight seals on his gloves and boots before replacing his coat, belt, and bandolier.

Shortly thereafter Castor entered the hangar, disturbing the binary conversation of a pair of droid starfighters standing there on their wing-struts. They looked his way and shuffled to the side, but Castor waved his hand for them to follow him. "You two, come with me. Signal to squadron Alpha that they have a mission." he ordered without looking back. The droids looked at each other briefly before shuffling after him as Castor strode toward his customized Ginivex-class Starfighter, the Crimson Dawn. The starfighter rested on the deck with its solar sails closed and locked while various droids and technicians puttered around it making last-minute checks. Castor would perform a full flight-check himself before launching to make sure they hadn't missed anything, intentionally or otherwise.

[Valgunn]

Groza-na

A tense shiver ran through the tubular mass. If his body allowed it he would surely blush. He didn't like being compared to a padawan but given his overestimates of his ability he felt like one for those moments. However as was the Jedi way he dedicated himself to doing better.

[Mando Knight]

"May the Force be with you, master."

Ja-Ria begins to head back to the lift, again pacing herself so she didn't get too far ahead of her compatriots.

[Bariko]

Sien

As Castor walks away Sien mutters to himself. "I'll take care of the arrangements... Psh. He doesn't even like droids, or ranged combat. Likes his hand-to-hand stuff. Who knows guns? I know guns!" The muttering continues as Sien gathers his flight gear, heading towards his fighter. Sien attached his helmet as he walked, appreciative to have it back, since it helped him notice things--a definite plus for someone like him.

As he entered the hangar bay, edging his way past droids and anyone else his muttering continued, occasionally involving whoever was nearby. "Think he's my boss. He's my boss when he's the one paying me. Or I guess when the person paying me tells me so. But did you hear that? I sure didn't! I'm your boss though. That's right... Ah well, it's nothing personal," he chuckled as he reached what he had chosen for his ship.

Every ship Sien had ever flown he'd dubbed Nothing Personal. It worked with his outlook, which was that he was always doing a job, and not taking it personally-unless he was which never bothered him. It also helped him maintain a decent view of his ships, not caring when one was destroyed or taken. They're just tools and weapons, after all.

Sien examined every system and point of the ship, verifying that everything was done properly, like Castor had, only Sien didn't have overt suspicions about the droids. Satisfied, he paused and activated his communicator.

"Castor, instead of just doing a fly-around, let's try to do some good recon. I know a couple of places the Jedi might try to take before attacking the planet."

[ChronicLunacy]

Castor Roane

"Alright. Plot a course and send it to my HUD. You know I'd rather be on the ground instead of this blasted piece of metal anyway." Castor said as he fitted his helmet over his head and zipped up the double seals that would keep the vacuum of space securely outside. He made sure every seal was set as the engines cycled up to operational.

It was true. Castor could fly, sure. Most Jedi were trained to at least know their way around a fighter as many of their tasks involved a capable, single-occupant transport for stealth or speed. He just didn't see the need for it beyond transportation, however, and would much rather be working with his hands. Space combat was too cold and detached for his tastes. He needed to feel the hunger, the passion, the lust for blood that spurred him on during a fight. Pressing a button and seeing a foe splinter into a ball of explosive gases and liquified metal didn't really live up to his standards. Though Castor supposed it had a certain asthetic appeal.

His preference for the melee certainly didn't mean that Castor was without skill in the cockpit of a snubfighter. Should he ever find himself fighting for his life in the acceleration seat of one of the blasted things he wanted to come out victorious, or at least alive. He wasn't so blind to think that just because something was distasteful didn't mean it wasn't necessary.

"Where were you planning on taking us, Sien? Remember that it's not just you and me on this run, though I've got your wing. I'm sending you a list of the forces we have available to us for this mission." Castor said, letting his comrade work out the minutae since he was better at it, and more inclined to enjoy himself while doing it.

[ZeroNumerous]

The Flight Deck

It takes but minutes to arrive back at the Resolution's flight deck. A quartet of Eta-2s are already set up on the run-way with a matching Delta-7 in front. Clone pilots are already suited up and moving toward the yellow-and-white fighters that belong to them. The flight deck is void of human personnel as they vacate behind shielded alcoves cut into the ship's flight deck for crew members and mechanics.

As soon as all four Jedi were strapped into their fighters the roof of the runway cracks and slides open while the runway proper raises up and exposes itself to the blackness of space. Icy blue Renas sits just minutes away against a backdrop of sparkling stars. A thick Concord Dawn accent comes in over the comm. "Beautiful, ain't it Six?" A voice that sounds little different from the first responds. "It'll be even more beautiful when we clear this system of Seps." A third, and strangely still sporting an accent, voice cuts in. "Cut the chatter you two. This is Yellow Squad, and we'll be flying defense for you tonight, Master Jedi."

[Valgunn]

Groza-na

"Roger that, Squad Leader." The Jedi strapped into the enlarged cockpit responded as he had learned. A combination of observation and out-right questions of the clones on Fire's Path helped him integrate more comfortably into the this path. The Jedi let his small amount of pilot training act as a guide for his force enhanced sense as he moved the craft.

[Mando Knight]

"Ready, boys?" Ja-Ria quickly flicks the switches to prep the fighter for the mission ahead. She also taps in a request to her R2 unit to begin the jump calculations.