Prelude to Treason

Written some fiction? Wanna participate in a boardwar? Wanna read some fiction! Heres your place!

Moderator: InocPrime

Posts: 1835
Joined: Fri Sep 21, 2001 12:00 pm
Location: Charlotte, NC

Post by Calavan » Fri Mar 26, 2004 2:12 am

I did these a while back for my pirate faction of EVR, if you play C6 you might see them flying around, but i figured i should put more up than just the huge story, so here's the whole thing at once, all formatted specifically for TGU. (gonna put it up in the segments i posted in originally)
Prelude to Treason
--2 Weeks Before Endor--

High Captain Loxar stood silently in the main concourse of mining platform V-82B, surveying the dead. 73 total, 60 Imperial Civilians, 10 stormtroopers, and 3 of his. It had been a slaughter, he thought, but the weak had to make way for the strong. The way of the galaxy was not gentle, but it was fair. The outpost had had almost no defences. The Emperor's grand suprise at Endor was sucking up many defense forces from around small operations such as this, but of course no one was supposed to know about Endor, and he only did because of a special source who had informed him about the oppurtunity. A perfect time for carrion feeders like themselves to feast upon the rotting flesh of abandoned meat.

Loxar grimaced at his own thoughts. It had not always been this way, but things change. The Empire had destroyed his home, and so person by person he was going to take back each life that they had taken from him. If his soldiers became rich off of the Empire's bloated underbelly while he did this, so much the better.

"Captain," came a familiar voice, shaking him from his thoughts, "we have secured the station. Cargo stores are being transferred to the Malignant and all treasury funds have been acquired."

Loxar turned and looked down at the small creature standing beside him. His name was Moricho Aerthur, and although he stood only just over 6 feet high, he was perhaps the most dangerous force in Loxar's arsenal.

"Excellent," Loxar hissed deeply, "order the departure. We have nothing more to gain here."

Moricho looked up at the nine foot tall trandoshan with a slightly disappointed expression, "What, so soon? I was under the impression we would be able to..." he hesitated, "stay awhile."

"No, we have a timetable to keep." the deep, reptillian voice pressed.

Moricho nodded quietly, "As you wish."

So the man and the trandoshan walked out of the main concourse, and made their way to the docking bay.

Posts: 1835
Joined: Fri Sep 21, 2001 12:00 pm
Location: Charlotte, NC

Post by Calavan » Fri Mar 26, 2004 2:13 am

The bridge of the Marauder Corvette Malignant was silent. The commando team had returned just twelve minutes ago, and they had already picked up something on sensors. Apparently the station was not as undefended as they thought.

The rear door hissed open as High Captain Loxar stepped onto the command deck. He noticed approvingly that none of the gray clad officers' gazes wavered from their monitors, a testament to their training. Out of the main viewport, the mining platform sat unmoving amidst the field of floating rocks--in the distance a small dagger shaped speck was slowly growing in size.

"What is our statusss?" Loxar hissed.

"Our sensor signature is distorted by the asteroid field," replied a human sitting at one of the stations, "however the Imperial vessel which we have identified as the Victory Star Destroyer Draconic has taken up a possition next to the station. It is running scans on it and the surrounding area. We will not be able to enter hyperspace without engageing the vessel," he paused, "or we could attempt to outrun it."

Loxar stared at the ship...a Victory class Star Destroyer. He had seen them many times before at the end of raids, but never one so vulnerable. He wanted that ship.

His massive lower jawseemed to quiver for a fraction of a second as he gazed at the situation. How could one disable and capture a ship twice their size and firepower... suddenly it came to him. "Take us out of the asteroid field and target the mining station's refueling pumpsss. Do not fire until ordered."

Slowly the vessel began to rattle beneath them as it moved stealthily towards the waiting Victory, who had become aware of their pressence the moment their engines activated. "Captain, the Imperial ship has locked onto our vessel. We enter their weapons range in ten seconds."

Loxar didn't respond. His jaw was set and he continued to stare at the mining station.

Captain Piear stared with a smirk on his face as the suicidal Marauder came flying towards his ship. It was a good ship and he had killed many a pirate filth with it, although he had never been so lucky as to engage the rebels. It would come in time, he thought to himself.

"Captain, the pirate Marauder is coming at us. They are entering our weapons"

Piear nodded, his officers cap sliding to the front of his balding head. They were scum, but he might as well go by the book, "Fire a single warning shot across their bow. Give them five seconds to respond. If they show no signs of relenting...vaporize them."

"Yes sir," the gunner nodded, and fired a single turbolaser burst across the Malignant's bow as the computer projected the prerecorded surrender order. Even as he did this, a single missile exited the corvettes tube and traveled towards the station. "Sir, they have fired a single concussion missile," the gunner responded, he added with a laugh "It missed us completely."

Piear smiled, that excuse was good enough, "Good, destroy them."

The gunner nodded and a horrible volley of enegry swept across the bow of the Draconic and slammed into the Malignant's sheilds. Energy coursed across the hull as the weakend sheids tried to compensate before another bombardment. They weren't quick enough.

The second volley of turbolasers cut through the marauder corvette's sheilds like cold steel and the last few found their way to the hull, one slamming into the right wing reactor. The Marauder spun for a moment as it lost its balance. Beside the Draconic a large explosion flashed for a split second in space.

Piear's smirk had turned to a grin. These pirates put up even less of a fight then the mongrals he had caught trying to smuggle death sticks into Ord Mantell. Suddenly an alarm went off on the other side of the bridge.

"Sir, we detect a large object on a collision course!" a sub-commander shouted.

Piear's grin turned to a gape as the mining station slowly fell towards them. The explosion of fuel had given it momentum which would not dissipate in space. For one fleeting moment before his death, Captain Piear congratulated the pirate captain, he was obviously far more intelligent then they had given him credit. Then the station, large enough to comfortably contain 100 people for a lifecycle, crashed through the shields and into the bridge. The resulting explosion killed them all instantly.
The bridge was dark as power had been drained in an effort to enforce the shields, but Loxar was grinning. His plan had worked. "What is the status of that Victory?" he shouted. Looking out of the main viewport he saw the star destroyer laying helplessly in space. The command tower was halfway gone, the part that remained was smoldering in the void of space. He almost alowed a scowl to pass over his face as he noticed a charred foot float by.

"Their shields are down, weapons and sublight drives offline, they have numerous power outages and their sensors are destroyed. They are a sitting duck."

Loxar nodded and hit a small button on a nearby panel, "Moricho, assemble an assault team and meet in the main hangar bay. I have a mission for you."

From the intercom a deep yet intelligent voice responded, "Yes sir."

"Captain Loxar, how is he going to take the ship? Even with a massive strike force we don't nearly match the manpower of that ship!" One of the officers asked with a hint of irritation, assuming his master had not thought of such a thing.

Loxar shot him an angry glance, "You will see."
Five Minutes Later
Moricho Aerthur stared at the fifteen men which stood with him. All of them were clad in gray bodyarmor and dagger style fighting helmets. At their wastes they wore standard issue blaster pistols. Some also carried E11-Blaster Rifles as well, but most held Tenloss DXR-6 Disruptors. He himself wore a suit of armor quite different from theres. It was red and black, schorched together in a firey suit. He wore a helmet with a T shaped visor and a single antenna-like arm extending from the right ear. On his wrists were two gauntlets, one with a small flame projector, the other with an extendable wrist blade. He was quite pleased with this suit of Mandalorian Battle Armor. He had found it during one of their raids and had instantly known what it was. There one other suit which he knew of, and it was being digested in the belly of a Sarlacc on Tatooine if his contacts were accurate. This one was quite similar to it, only he lacked the jetpack. A shame, but it was acceptable. In his arms he held an Imperial Heavy Repeater rifle and in his back pocket a small viro-blade knife. Quietly he paced in between the three rows of five men until he finally spoke.

"Our mission," he hissed, his voice was muffled by the suit's comlink, "is to inject this neuro toxin into the ships ventalation supply." He stopped and gestured to a large crate being loaded onto the shuttle. "It will then be dispersed througout the ship and drive every on board that ship into a pleasent, everlasting slumber. Once all the Imperials are dead, I take command of the ship and we accompany the Malignant to Base HQ. Once there...we have a new ship in our fleet."

The soldiers nodded in comprehension.

"Good, lets get going...we don't know how much time we have until their weapons come back online," Moricho said and gripped his repeater tightly. Then he turned and stepped onto the shuttle, the 15 warriors following closely behind.

Posts: 1835
Joined: Fri Sep 21, 2001 12:00 pm
Location: Charlotte, NC

Post by Calavan » Fri Mar 26, 2004 2:13 am

Moricho and his squad of fifteen men, one with a large crate strapped to his back, departed slowly from the shuttle. They had latched onto the flaming command tower of the Victory Star Destroyer and with laser torches, cut their entrance into the ship. A heavy vacuum was created as they pulled themselves in through the hull, but soon atmospheric screens replaced the void and air was pumped back into the room. They had broken into an officer's quarters. It was dark and only the soft flicker of emergency lights illuminated the room, but they could all see fine. Moricho scanned the room through his visor for a sign of life, but saw none. Aparently this officer had been on the bridge when the collision occured.

Slowly the sixteen stepped out into the dark hallway. It was barren. "The ventalation maintenance bay is four decks down," Moricho hissed through his comlink, the large Imperial Repeater slung across his back, "Apparently this part of the ship is abandoned."

They continued to walk in the eerie darkness, listening for any sound or movement. Their infared ladend visors could detect even the slightest hint of movement in the pitch black void, but for right now they saw nothing.
A low creaking echoed from around the corridor's next bend. Moricho held up his hand and they redied their weapons, then slowly they stepped out.

A lone officer stood staring at the sixteen heavily armed pirates and opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out, many of the pirates were struck at the look of true terror that was on his face. Moricho reached out and quickly slashed his throat with the retractable wrist blade attached to the suit's left gauntlet. The officer fell to the ground, a steady pool of blood began to form under his collapsed body. Moricho looked down for a moment and then quickly concealed the blade back into the gauntlet, none of the men could detect the expression on his face beneath the red and black helmet.

Silently, he rose his arm in a movement for them to proceed. At the far end of the hallway, there was a small light above a closed doorway, the steady hum of the light seemed like the endless droning of a bee in the silence. Their footfalls crashed like symbols and the near silent sqeak of their armor sounded like a rusty door hinge. They truly felt like they were the only ones left a live. Suddenly there was a revolting ploik sound and one of the fifteen gave a lurch forward as though he was trying to contain vomit. They all looked down. The charred body of an officer lay in the center of the floor, apparently he had made it out of the command room...but not soon enough. The pirate soldier had stepped right in the center of his flame consumed chest and his foot had sunk into the rib cavity. The face was perhaps the only thing not scorched, just disfigured. A disgusting metamorphisis had come over it in the last moments of death. Its eyes bulged massively, the jaw was dropped slightly, the chin was black with soot and melted flesh and the hair was disheveled and slightly burnt. Moricho did not seem moved, and hastend the company.

Finally the sixteen reached the light at the end of the hallway. Fortunatly for them, the lift had fallen from this floor, the inner walls of were scorched and blackend. Moricho looked up, this elevator had once led to the bridge of the ship, but now all that was up there was a mass of burning debris. Steadying himself on the side of the shaft, he reached his arm up and shot the whipcord from his gauntlet. It latched onto a small piece of tubing protruding from the collapsed cieling above. After testing it for security, he began to lower himself down the shaft.

One, two, three floors he went until he reached the thrid floor doorway. Up above, his fifteen soldiers were waiting for him to detach the cord from his wrist and allow each one to slowly descend the shaft. Moricho reached out with his flame jet and cut out a doorway from the sealed lift doors and then kicked it in.

Two Stormtroopers were standing in the hall when the door cut out flew in, and one of them was knocked to the ground by it. His E-11 Blaster slid across the floor into the wall. The second looked down for just a second and then looked back up, but before he could get a shot off Moricho had lept from his whipcord into the hallway and slamed his fist into the white helmet. The Stormtrooper teatered for a few seconds, standing dazed, and Moricho grabbed him by the back and pushed him into the elevator shaft. It was a long time before he smashed into the bottom.

The second stormtrooper had just recovered and was pulling the door off of himself when Moricho spotted him. The faceless warrior slammed his foot down onto the fallen door, crushing the stormtroopers legs. From the comlink a deranged voice pleaded as Imperial training fell away at these last times before certain death, "Please, let me go, I...I won't tell anyone I saw you, I...I..."

But Moricho disreguarded his plees, and holding out his right arm, stream of flame reached out and engulfed the stormtrooper, burning him and his armor at enormous temperatures. The armor literally melted onto his flesh, causing the corpse to look like a strange snowman, which had stood too long in the sun. It had also melted to the door and the metallic floor...they'd need to scrape him off once they took the ship.
Within ten minutes, all fifteen of the pirates had decended the wire and were safely on the deck.

Moricho surveyed them for a second time, and then held his arm up as a gesture to proceed.

They continued down the hall, and two more stormtroopers saw them but both fell quickly as disruptor bolts incinerated their bodies. Moricho fell back to the back of the line, through his helmet he could see that the ventilation maintenance system was near. Finally, after walking down the corridor for what seemed to be a very long time, Moricho raised his hand to stop them.

"This is it," he said gesturing towards a large steel door, sealed securely. One of the pirates pressed the door open button but it made a small hissing noise and a keypad illuminated. There seemed to be an industrial code needed.

One of the men raised their disruptor, but Moricho shook his head, "No, this will be our ship soon. No use in vandalizing our own property." The pirate nodded and Moricho walked to the keypad--the antenna on his helmet rotated down into a horizontal possition. After studying the pad for a long time with his visor, he finally pressed in a quick eight digit code and the door hissed opened. Inside was a lone Imperial worker. He looked up quickly and fumbled at his waste, grabbing at his pistol, but four disruptor bolts tore his molecules apart before he had the chance. He did have time, however, to let loose an earsplitting scream.

Moricho quickly walked over to a large panel and hit a button, the door behind them sealed itself again, "That damn technician has probably alerted this whole deck. We must work fast," he turned his attention to the pirate with the large crate strapped to his back, "load that crate into the air purifyer so we can begin the process."

The gray clad warrior nodded and unstrapped the crate. Then, opening it silently, he removed several of what looked to be large, empty canisters. Then, walking to the air purification pump at the far side of the room, he loaded each canister into a small filtration vent, removing the filters as he did so. Soon, he had loaded the entire purifyer with the concentrated nerve agent, a clear and odorless gas which would drive the crew insane with delerium before causing their lungs to burst. It was very painful, or so Moricho had heard.

"All tanks are secured sir, permission to start the pumping sequence?" This was the first time one of the guards had spoken, his voice seemed deep and surly.

"Permission--" Moricho cut short as a lound knock came on the door to the corridor.

"Is everything alright in there?" came a voice from the other side.

Moricho motioned for them to remain silent.

"Is everything alright? Do you need assistance?" still no responce. "Alright, we're comin in."

Suddenly the door indented inwards as several laser shots slammed into it. Then a second volley and it began to glow slightly red. The sustained fire would bring down that door soon.

Moricho turned to the pirates and motioned for them to ready their weapons. He himself unslung the Imperial Repeater from his back. Then the door broke in.

Almost twenty Imperial stormtrooper stood on the other side, and peered into the smoke filled room, searching for the Imperial worker. The six which were closest to the front incinerated before they knew what hit them. The fourteen others instinctivly swiched their helmets to thermal detection and the cloak of smoke was ripped from the pirates. The Imperials fired back.

"This is TI-582 to Command, we have encountered a boarding ARGHHHH--" the stormtrooper commander melted away into dust.

Most of the stormtroopers had fallen back out from the maitenance room and had taken cover in the hallway, several pirates were leaning out and firing their illiegal disruptors. The weapon blast was much stronger then the E-11s, but Imperial training at least counted for something. Although outnumbered, the now eleven remaining stormtroopers managed to take down seven Pirates. Moricho was crouched behind the doorway, lobbing energy grenades into the hallway from his repeater. The troopers were good, but not good enough for him. After perhaps three minutes more of fighting, the stormtrooper team was gone, but the Imperials had been alerted of their pressence.

Moricho looked up at the pirate who had been in charge of the ventalation sabotage, "Permission granted, flood all decks but this one," then he turned to the pirates, "there will be more stormtroopers coming, take shelter in the hallway."
Throughout the ship all life began to whither and die abruptly. At first they would attack each other, due to hallucination and fear, but after a few more minutes they would just collapse to the floor--blood exuding from their mouths due to collapsed lungs.
The Imperial responce team did arrive, however. Twenty five men strong, hoping to be able to slaughter the locusts who had boarded their ship.

The heavy blast doors at the end of the deck opened slowly. On the other side was a cargo lift which had brought the twenty five from the deck below. They had been exposed to the gas, but not long enough for fatality.

Moricho stood in the center of the hall as the stormtroopers marched down it. The moment they saw him they opened fire. Lasers flew towards him and he didn't flinch, even as they passed through his body and hit the wall on the other side. The troopers stopped dead. One of them managed to utter the words 'What the hell?' just as the pirates ambushed them.

The majority managed to fall back but almost a fourth were slain. The hologram of Moricho vanished after the fighting began and he stepped out of the maintenance room, his antenna lowered over his visor. Slowly it extended back up and he let loose a mighty barrage of energy from his repeater rifle. One unlucky Imperial was caught running down the hall as he let loose. The body undulated back and forth as it was being internally shreded and then fell to the ground. One stormtrooper hiding behind an outcroping took a shot at Moricho and it slammed into his breastplate. He stumbled back a few feet and then spotted the stormtrooper. He extended his arm and a whipcord flung from it, wrapping around his gun. With a hearty tug the blaster flew from the trooper arms leaving him defenseless. Then Moricho severed the cord, and before the trooper could move he lept upon him. A vicious rage seemed to have overcome Moricho and the retractable wrist gauntlet lept out from his arm, lacerating the armor of the helpless stormtrooper. Moricho brought it down again and again, steaming blood flung from the writhing body splattering against the unfeeling black of Moricho's helmet. The stormtrooper was gurgling pleas of mercy, but they did not hinder the rage. Again and again, blood sprayed into the hallway, covering the floor and decorating the walls in gore. When Moricho was done, the rest of the stormtroopers had been defeated. The red and black Mandalorian battle armor was now dripping with more red, as though the paint was still fresh and dripping off. Down on the ground in a corner of the corridor was a carcass. Not even corpse could adequately define what was on the floor. The armor had been ripped open, bisected like the sternum before open heart surgery. The protective black jumpsuit which coushans the armor has been scrapped off of his body, and the thing itself looked like it had been gutted. Strands of intestine and unidentifiable body tissue laid all around it, the heart now lay deflated like a punctured baloon, and in certain places you could see all the way through the stomach cavity to his spinal collumn.

The pirates all stood, staring at Moricho and then the body, feeling nausea, fear, and admiration all at the same time, but Moricho himself had none of those feelings. His only feeling at that moment was intense elation.

Posts: 1835
Joined: Fri Sep 21, 2001 12:00 pm
Location: Charlotte, NC

Post by Calavan » Fri Mar 26, 2004 2:14 am

Escape from Home
High Captain Loxar grimaced for a moment as Moricho's hologram stood infront of him. Even through the blue mist which shrouded his figure he could tell where the blood had caked onto his battle armor.

"Captain, the Draconic has been secured. The last of Imperial resistance has been quelled and we have set up an auxillary command post in the engineering sector. Hyperdrive and most critical systems are back online."

Loxar nodded, he was pleased. "Excellent, set course for HQ. See you on the other side."

On the edge of the asteroid field, the Marauder Corvette and Victory Star Destroyer streaked off towards the far reaches of the Outer Rim.
One Week Later
High Captain Loxar stared out of the window of his office on the Imperial space platform XXD-562. They had taken it just over a month ago after it had been evacuated during a rebel attack. There were some things Loxar didn't like about it, but beggars couldn't be choosers. He was, in fact, extremely happy. It turned out, after a close inspection, that the Victory Star Destroyer they had captured was complete with a full complement of 36 TIE Interceptor starfighters, two lambda class shuttles, and repairs to the systems were already underway. In fact, his engineers told him that if they busted their asses they could get the ship up to 100% system efficiency in another few weeks. Hull repairs would take a good bit longer, but he could wait. In the meantime, the Malignant had been fully repaired and was ready to go on another raid.

His scaly hands thumbed through several reports suggesting targets until they finally stopped at a notoriously wealthy buisness organization's supply and ship construction platform. His reptillian lips curled into a smile, what made it even better was that they were known to be in league with the Empire.

Very interesting, Loxar thought. But he didn't even have to think, he had already decided. Their next target would be shipyard SG-921 of Viraxo Industries.
Loxar's Lambda shuttle docked with the VSD Draconic just three hours after the High Captain had made his descision. He was already scheduled to make an inspection of the repairs, but now he had other reasons as well. Moricho was stationed on board to oversee the repairs, and he wanted to get his oppinion on the target of choice.

The moment he stepped out onto the cold black hangar floor he was hit by an almost tangible wave of revulsion. The air on the ship, although constanlty recycling, reeked of the sickly-sweet smell of death. They still had not been able to clear off all the Imperial corpses, and he remembered reports that there were a few people which had been found not killed by the gas, only driven hopelessly insane.

After taking a few steps, a Rodian dressed in a gray jumpsuit greeted him. "We've been waiting on you Captain. You will be happy with our progress I think. Propulsion systems are fully functional and weapons shouldn't be more then a few days away. We've gotten internal lighting set up on half the ship and the secondary bridge fully operational in the engineering section."

Loxar nodded and hissed, "Good, what about the sensors and the computer core?" He fell into step beside the Rodian as they began to walk down the hallway. This deck had partial lighting, but there were still enough gaps that the hall was pockmarked with eerie shadows and pits of blackness.

"Both systems are functional to a degree. Many of my engineers have been conservative in their estimates, but I think that this ship will be fully up and running before the end of the month."

Their conversation carried on as they walked until finally they reached the tram which would take them to the engineering section. Stepping onto it, the rodian hit a quick succession of buttons and the tram shot off towards the rear of the ship. Power to this car had been only partially restored, giving all of the consoles and track illuminance, but only emergency lights were shining down from the top of the cab.

After a few minutes on the tram, it slid to a halt and the door opened onto the main engineering sector. The first thing Loxar noticed was that the air was significantly different in this section of the ship. There was no longer the odor of death, but instead one of industry. Several workers were welding and fusing wires and sparks lept from their tools all across the room. Moricho Aerthur stood in his gray uniform watching the workers with his hands firmly wrapped around his back. As the two stepped off of the tram, he turned his head back.

Loxar had seen the face many times before, but each time it inspired a strange eagerness in him, almost teetering on the edge of anxiety. Moricho's hair was bright blond, almost white, and cut very short. His skin was rather pale, even by human standards, and his nose was very sharp. Nevertheless, his eyes were the most unsettling thing. They were a dark pink, almost blood red shade. The white flesh streached around them and accented them to gave him an almost demonic appearance. On his face was a wide smile revealing perfectly straight teeth. "Good to see you Captain," he extended his hand, "We've been waiting for you."

Loxar grasped the human's hand and shook it. Loxar remained silent as Moricho explained in painful detail the exact same things which the rodian had forced him to endure for the past 10 minutes. Apparently he was very impressed with the work he was putting into this ship. "It certainly sounds like you've done a good job with her," Loxar said, trying to convince Moricho he was still listening.

The responce seemed to almost catch him off guard, "Yeah," he responded after a few seconds, "but when all's said and done you get out what you put in." His smile broadened.

Loxar nodded, not quite liking the subliminal message he was getting. Of course he wasn't going to say anything, but Moricho must know that this ship wasn't going to be his. The Malignant may be handed over, but this ship was for the High Captain. A prize which he had always wanted, a Star Destroyer.

Their conversation carried on for a few more minutes until finally they had worked their way away from the main workzone into a secluded corridor where lights had not yet been restored. Finally Moricho stopped talking, ending with "of course, I figure you need to talk to me about something else too."

Loxar nodded and unveiled his plans for the assault on the Viraxo shipyard. Moricho's smile now widened even more greatly into an almost lunatic grin. "Its a good plan sir, the Viraxo need to learn the price of success."

Loxar agreed, "Yes, I was thinking we would have to wait another three weeks before mounting the assault, but if your boasts are any indication of the real thing, I might push the deadline up to a week from now."

"That shouldn't be a problem--" Moricho stopped in midsentence. Something was wrong.

An alarm klaxon rang above their heads and they both rushed back to the main engineering room. An audio transmission was playing back throughout the ship.

"Repeat. This is the Imperial battlegroup Doom Bringer under command of the ISD Chimaera. All personel on this station and two vessels are in violation of Imperial doctrine. You are all under arrest for terrorist acts against the Empire, stealing Imperial equipment, hijacking an Imperial starship, murdering Imperial citizens, assaulting Imperial Officers with deadly force, Attacking an Imperial starship, destroyer an Imperial Supply Station, stealing Imperial technology, and treason. If you are guilty, the penalty is death. Surrender peacefully and you will be taken to have a fair trial. Resist or attempt to escape in any way, and deadly force shall be applied. You have three minutes to respond."

Loxar looked frantically at Moricho, "How could they have tracked us?!"

The grin was now completely gone from Moricho's pale face, "There must have been some kind of hidden transmitter in this ship, either that or they managed to send a distress call...either way it doesn't matter." He had rushed to a console and was looking at a three dimensional tactical map. Quickly pressing a buttion, the readouts of both parties forces showed up on the screen.
Imperial Forces:

ISD Chimaera
Captain: Captain Zal Avery
2nd In Command: Commander Gilad Pellaeon
Fighter Complement: Full

ISD Draco
Captain: Captain Lin Durna
2nd In Command: Sub-Commander Jear Caemon
Fighter Complement: Full

INT Brass
Captain: Captain Oon Yunarr
2nd In Command: Commander Lance Dragur
Fighter Complement: 1/2 Full

Allied Forces:

VSD Draconic
Captain: ???
2nd In Command: ???
Fighter Complement: Full

MCRV Malignant
Captain: High Captain Loxar
2nd In Command: Moricho Aerthur
Fighter Complement: NONE

Empress Platform XXD-562
Captain: N/A
2nd In Command: N/A
Fighter Complement: NONE
"Our only chance is to abandon the station, our engines are online, if the Malignant's quick enough they might survive too," Moricho mumbled beneath his breath.

"You have two minutes to respond!" the Imperial Captain's voice came back over the intercom.
Loxar nodded, "Are shields operational?"

Moricho's mouth twisted in disgust, "No..."

Loxar sighed and walked over to the makeshift communications console, "This is High Captain Loxar to Imperial Star Destroyer Chimaera. We wish to come peacably. Please just give me a few momentss to alert the ressst of my men."

The Imperial Captain responded, thinking that Loxar was replying from the space platform, "Loxar, you have the two minutes remaining. No more."

The captain turned to Moricho and shook his head, "Suggestions?"

The pale man laughed, "Run for our lives."

Loxar nodded and shouted to a man standing near the tram, "I want us to be able to run circles around those Star Destroyers. Power up the hyperdrive as soon as I give the signal."

Then he punched in a brief command into the glowing communication console. He had achieved a secure line with the Malignant. "This is High Captain Loxar to Malignant. Myself and Moricho are safely aboard the Draconic. I order you to make best speed to the following coordinates, do not begin the run until I give the signal." There was no responce, but Loxar just had to hope they got the message.

"You have 30 seconds."

Loxar nodded solemnly, "Begin powering up the hyperdrive...and pray our sublights can get us out of that Interdictor's range."
Commander Pellaeon, an aging man with a stone set face and Captain Avery, a portly captain who looked almost too slovenly to command a starship (especially this one) stared out of the main bridgeport on the ISD Chimaera. The pirate station's shields were still down, and they had detected no movement from either the Marauder or the Victory. Hopefully it would stay that way, the Demonic was a good ship. Captain Avery had been a friend of Captain Pier at the academy, that is why he had requested this mission, even in the final days before their great victory. It was a time of vengence, and what greater appetizer was some pirate scum before they crushed the Rebellion.

"You have 20 seconds," Avery shouted out, his voice was being transmitted into all three of the pirate structures. He turned to Pellaeon, "Commander, are the shuttles ready?"

"Yes sir, General Tras has already contacted me," the commander said rigidly, awaiting the response.

But the response never came, rather an expression of suprise as a bright red light began to flash on one of the monitoring stations.

An officer looked up from his console, "Captain, the Marauder Corvette and Victory Star Destroyer have powered up their engines and are making a run for it. The Marauder's shields are up but the Demonic is defenseless. They have almost escaped out turbolaser range."

Avery was not suprised, "Order Gunboat groups Mu and Tau to intercept the Demonic." Then he turned to another officer, "Contact the Draco, we're going to need their TIE Interceptors for cover."
The Marauder corvette flew swiftly, almost fighterlike beside the larger Victory Star Destroyer. The Imperial battlegroup was slowly fading into the distance and not one shot had been fired. It looked to Loxar like they had tricked them good.

Standing in the Engine Room of the Draconic, he was walking around the stations which had been set up to form the auxillary bridge. They had recieved a hail from the platform almost the instant they had attacked the Imperials but ignored it. He knew what they were going to say, that he had signed their death warrants, that they had trusted him and given their lives to him and he had left them to die. It was a difficult descision to make, but in the end they were just unlucky. Suddenly a bright flash of green light illuminated the space outside. The Star Destroyers were firing on the platform. Several of the men working in the room shaded their eyes as the fantastic explosion lept out and sprayed shratanel into space. Loxar was suprised to notice a pang of guilt suddenly flash into his mind, but he quickly burried it. This was war, people died--that was the way it had to be.

"Too easy, eh Aerthur?" Loxar laughed and turned to his second in command. The man's mouth was hanging in a gape staring at a monitor.

"What is it?" Loxar grinned and walked up behind him, looking over his shoulder. All relief and happiness fled as quickly as it had come. 24 Imperial Assault Gunboats and 12 TIE Interceptors were quickly approaching.

The gunboats have Ion Cannons, Loxar realized, they won't have to chase them. Damn that Interdictor.

"Captain, the Malignant is breaking off to engage the fighters," Moricho suddenly barked, a sense of calming was coming back into his voice. "We will be outside the interdiction field in ten minutes."
"Mu 1 this is Tau 1, it looks like that Marauder is turning to engage, we're switching to torpedoes over."

"Negative Tau 1, stay on target. If that Victory gets away the Captain will personally shoot your ass."

Ahead of them, the Marauder Corvette was looming closer, suddenly streaks of red tibanna gas came at them, one grazed the wing of a TIE Interceptor causing it to spin out of control, looping in circles until the cockpit popped like a bubble.

"Take evasive actions!" Tau 1 shouted and switched to torpedoes. His crosshairs blinked rapid orange for a few seconds before going to red. He fliped a swiched linking his launchers, and then pulled the trigger. The twin blue streaks sped towards the Marauder's hull, both slamming into its shields. Tau 1 quickly pulled up in an effort to evade the fire, but hesitated just a moment too long. Four laser bolts cut through his shields and scattered his gunboat across space.

Mu 1 shook his head inside the black TIE Pilot bodysuit. Group Tau was getting decimated because of their stupid commander, while Mu was closing in on the target. "Alright team swich to ion cannons." Behind his small group of 12, the Marauder had done a quick U-turn. Still shooting at the TIEs behind it, it was racing towards group Mu.

"Sir, that Marauder has spotted us and is moving to intercept."

"Roger that Mu 3, disreguard. They can't catch us, thirty seconds until we're in firing range." The VSD was growing larger, the three plumes of blue-white fire propelling it seemed massive now.

"Mu 1, I'm in range, making my attack run," Mu 8 exclaimed and went barreling forward. A flurry of blue ion fire came ripping from his ship but suddenly it stopped. "DAMNIT!" he raged, "They've got some kind of jamming field thats screwing up my weapons systems, I can't get the shot off!"

The rest of Mu group then flew into range and all pulled hard down onto the triggers of their flightstick. No ionized energy came out though. Mu 1 kept his head, however, and quickly noticed that the field wasn't coming from the VSD. "The Marauder's got a jamming beam on us, we're going to have to take it down if we want to disable that Victory." his eyes then scanned his rear sensor, only three ships in group Tau were still operational, and the TIE Interceptor group had been totally destroyed. But the Marauder's shields were at 13%.

Group Mu did an impressive uniform turn and were suddenly baring down on the Marauder Corvette. Tau 1 swiched to torpedoes and waited as his computer slowly changed his blinking crosshairs from orange to red. He fired off a quick volley of two and then pulled up, narrowly missing a wave of red fire coming from the corvette which consumed Tau 4 and 10.

Tau 1 rolled left and right, evading fire from what seemed like every direction. He had never gone up against a Marauder before, and was suprised at how durable it was. Nevertheless, he watched on his targeting computer as the shields ticked down and stray energy began to slam into the hull. "Its shields are down!!" came an excited voice from over the radio and a wave of cheer rose up.

"Lock onto that jammer," Tau 1 muttered and swung his fighter around. Hot red fire swung past him as he neared the nose of the ship. The orange bracket blinked faster and faster until it was sustained and ultimately turned red. With a final strong exhalation he pulled the trigger. Two blue torpedoes streaked outwards and sped gracefully towards their destination. The impact released a stream of red fire which engulfed the nose of the ship, causing the hull to be black and scorched. A large hole had been punched into the vessel. The jamming field was gone. "All ships target that Star Destroyer, FULL BURN!" Tau 1 shrieked as he looked at his scanner. They were almost out of the Interdictor's range. He slammed all power from lasers and shields directly to engines, hoping he would still have enough firepower to slow them down. The rest of the sqaudron, not knowing how close to the edge of success and failure they were were left behind. The Victory grew larger, larger, and finally the targeting recitricle swiched to a steady green showing perfect laser lock. Tau 1 pulled the trigger, a flurry of blue energy swept out of his ship and slammed into the rear of the Star Destroyer. Systems were shorting out, electrical energy coursed across the hull and any minute systems were going to get a vital overload--but his cannons had been too drained in an effort to go faster. He pulled the trigger helplessly but nothing came out, and then as the rest of his straggling squadron pulled into weapons range, the Victory Star Destroyer Draconic accelerated into hyperspace followed by the Marauder Corvette Malignant a few seconds later. Tau cursed to himself in the cockpit, pulled around, and ordered the rest of his squadron on the return trip to the Chimaera.

Posts: 1835
Joined: Fri Sep 21, 2001 12:00 pm
Location: Charlotte, NC

Post by Calavan » Fri Mar 26, 2004 2:15 am

A Killer's Guilt
Three Days Later
Lance Meyolds stood in one of the large lobbys of the Viraxo ship and tradeyard. His family had just come through to drop off supplys and were leaving later that day. It had been fairly uneventful and there was no need to rush, but he knew Artan would be wanting to get home to see his friends.

Kids grow up too damn fast, Lance chuckled as he reflected, Change his diaper one day and the next your teachin him how to fly a landspeeder. He still remembered the time Artan had shown up at the house with a broken leg. He had said that he was walking with a friend and tripped over a log, but Lance knew they had been in the city. Coronet was a beutiful place, but he never felt comfortable letting them wander around alone. Those were the Artan was almost 15 and was quickly pulling farther and farther away. It was sad, but these things always happened. Times had not been easy on them either, things on Correllia had begun to take a turn for the worse with many uprisings and protests, crushed by legions upon legions of stormtroopers of course. When the Viraxo began offering jobs, he was certainly quick to take the offer. They had supplied him with a freighter and a guarentee at a hefty sum when he finished transporting their cargo. It was a dream come true. His only condition was that he be alowed to bring his family. He couldn't help thinking that if he left them on Correllia, another riot would break out and this time they'd be the ones caught in the crossfire. The Viraxo had been very flexible though, and had allowed him to bring his entire family as long as they delivered the cargo, no questions asked. What was it he was carrying? Just like they instructed him, he didn't ask. He figured he didn't need to know, and they had givin him special clearance codes to allow him free passage through all Imperial checkpoints. Of course, now that all was said and done, he did feel slightly disappointed he didn't take one little peak.

He jumped slightly as a soft, warm hand fell onto his shoulder. "How are you getting along?" came a sweet, feminine voice behind him.

He smiled and turned to her, she was just as beutiful as he had remembered, his wife, Jes. Her light brown shoulderlength hair was pulled back into a pony tail and she was smiling back at him. "I was just thinking."

"Well thats always dangerous," she giggled.

He gave a strained smile, "What about Artan, its him you should be worrying about. He excited that we're goin home?"

"Very," she said more seriously, "he told me just today how excited he was to see that girl he had met."

"That boy's growin up on us," Lance said, "In more ways then you know. I can see it in his eyes, he's hungry for something...something he can't get with us. I'm...I'm afraid someday soon he's going to leave us. Run off and join the military or something crazy like that."

The woman rubbed her husbands shoulders slowly up and down, "He'll be fine, you've got to trust him. We've been good parents, sure we've had our ups and downs, but we've been good. Artan may be growing up, but he's still our child, and--"

"So when are we gonna leave?" came a young voice from behind them. Artan Meyolds stood around five nine, still some time left for him to catch six feet if he really streached for it. He had light brown hair, like his mothers, and kept it cut short.

His father looked around to meet his gaze, "We're cleared for about 3 hours from now, why?"

"3 hours! Damn dad I told you it was important for me to get home!" Artan whined.

"Watch your language son," Lance shot back, "You can waste time with your friends later. It'll take over a day to make the trip anyway, 3 extra hours won't hurt any."

Artan rolled his eyes, "Do you not get it? I PROMISED some guys that I'd be there to see the race tommorrow, it starts at seven and I figured that if we left now we could make it. Three hours does matter."

Lance stood up to his full six foot three inch height, brushing his wife's hands off of his shoulders. She stayed back, silent. "Listen to me boy, it damn well doesn't matter if I get it or not, you're not going to talk to me like that!"

Artan smirked, "Watch your mouth son."

"Don't be a smartass with me," Lance said, not amused.

Artan's smirk faded, "What the hell, why don't we just stay here another week?! Its not like it matters to you what I have going on in my life. I hate you guys, I mean how hard could it be to schedule a departure just an hour or two earlier?"

"Artan, go back to the room," Lance said, his face had begun to flush as he wrestled with his temper.

Artan rolled his eyes, "Don't EVEN get an answer, all I want is for you to listen to me. But you never do, you just fuck around with me like I'm a 5 year old." He suddenly noticed the expression on his father's face, "I'm tired of this, I'm goin to my room," he sighed and stepped out.

As soon as he did Lance slammed his fist down onto the wall. "What were you saying about being good parents?" he muttered as he cooled off.

"Thats just how people get at that age," his wife sighed, "And personally I think you could have handled it a little better. You were a little hard on him..."

"A little hard on him? Jes your a marshmallow, if he blew up a speeder you'd just give him a slap on the wrist and send him on his way, boy's need good discipline at that age. Without it he'll just wind up another dreg of society."

Jes sighed, "I know you mean well, but can't you just be a little easier on him? He's not going to turn out like your dad did."

Lance felt a slight knot well up in his throat, his dad had been a drunk, only home long enough to stagger in and fall asleep, then he was out again. When he was home he had abused his wife and children and would never even think of talking about what they had done. It was his mother that had laid the rules for his sister and himself, and he was grateful to her. His father, meanwhile, had just gone on beating and drinking until one night he overdosed on deathsticks. The Republic police had found his body in a dumpster behind one of the clubs he frequented. He was a sad, sad, punk-ass man who Lance was ashamed of, "I...I know. I'm just trying to look out for him...I'm just trying to be a good dad." Tears of pain and sorrow suddenly welled up in him, and he tried his best to keep them down.
High Captain Loxar and Moricho Aerthur stood together on the bridge of the MCRV Malignant, far away the Victory Star Destroyer Draconic was fading away into the distance.

Loxar's mind had been troubled ever since they had escaped from the platform. He had always followed the mentality of "the strong survive", but now he was rethinking his principals. Those people on that station had trusted him...and he had betrayed them. He had murdered his own people...he had done the exact same thing that the empire had done to his family. A sudden wave of revulsion passed over him as the disturbing truth came to him--he was becoming what he loathed with all his heart. When he would sacrifice those who trusted him to get ahead, then he had truly died. Suddenly he snapped out of his thoughts, Moricho was speaking to him.

"Captain, we're ready to leave. The Draconic has been instructed to hold its possition until we report success. Jamming control reports they have gotten the jammer back online and are ready to block all Viraxo communications. I've also taken the liberty of changing our identification codes so they won't know we're the same ship that escaped the Imperials. We're just waiting on your word."

Loxar nodded quietly and suddenly realized where he was. He had had his epiphany, and it was at this moment that the crossroads were diverging. He could order them down, he could rethink they're target. They still had plenty of supplies on this ship. Maybe they could sell them to the Viraxo and get an honest job...

"You may proceed," he said finally. He could make the decision when they got there. Out of the main viewport, the stars all streaked backwards until space became nothing but a swirling blue vortex.
"Sir, a Marauder Corvette has just dropped out of hyperspace," an officer on the Viraxo station said, eyeing a console in the mail control room.

The commander of the station looked down at his own console, a 3-D hologram of the ship came up. The ship was identified as the MCRV Octurn from the Chandrilla system.

"Marauder Corvette Octurn, please relay information on cargo and unloading information."

From the speaker, a slimy voice came through, "SG-921, this is Corvette Octurn, we are bringing Bacta from the Chandrilla system to the Imperial Platform I-352. We request refueling services and a brief period of leave for our men. We plan to pay...of course."

The commander grinned and looked to the docking control officer and gave a quick nod, "Very good Octurn, we can discuss costs once you're on board. You are cleared to dock with Arm B."
Loxar, Moricho, and a team of 40 pirates armed their weapons as they stepped into the airlock. Loxar was wearing elaborate gold plated armor and carred a modified Golan Flechette weapon. Moricho was wearing his suit of Mandalorian Battle Armor, which he had fortunately brought to the Victory Star Destroyer before the Imperial attack. The pirates were all wearing gray battle suits and carried Tenloss Disruptors and E-11 blasters.

The airlock doors opened slowly with a soft woosh and the station's greeter stepped up to meet them, his mouth dropped and he turned to run but suddenly collapsed to the ground, a large scorch mark was smouldering from his back. Moricho nodded his red and black helmet in approval at the guard who had made the shot and then looked up. Two security cameras were swivelling above them. Another pirate disabled them.

Loxar looked to Moricho, "You take 35 men and secure the main station. I'll take five and head for the command room."

"Yes sir," Moricho said through the helmet's comlink, he raised his arm to begin issuing orders but then Loxar spoke again.

"Moricho, if they surrender, spare them."

The man in the Mandalorian armor seemed to stiffen, "Sir?" Loxar had never asked to take prisoners before, and in fact had on one occasion ordered those that surrendered to be killed first. 'The cowards die before the brave--the weak die before the strong.'

Loxar nodded, "We lost too many people on that station, we need more manpower. Fighter and Freighter pilots especially, we have 36 TIE Interceptors and only a handful of us can fly them." eyeing Moricho's hesitation he added, "The order stands."

Moricho nodded, and the battle helmet bobbed forward, then he rose his arm and his men stormed out of the airlock, heading for the main concourse.
The door to the Meyold's room slid open swiftly and Lance stepped inside. On one of the two double beds, Jes was throwing things into her suitcase, they were due to leave in fifteen minutes. On the other bed, Artan was sprawled out, staring out of the window. Outside Lance could see a docked Marauder Corvette attached to one of the grappling arms and several smaller ships attached to various other ones. Lance sat down beside his son.

"Artan," he noticed that his wife had looked up and was watching them, "Artan I'm..."

Artan looked back up at him, he was still angry, "You're what?" he said sharply.

"I'm sorry I didn't care about your little race, but can't you understand what possition you put me in? Its not as easy as you think, I can't just tell the station commander that I want to leave right away. Theres procedures and delays and...well to tell you the truth I didn't really pick three hours hoping to screw you out of getting to see that race."

Artan didn't respond but just continued to look out of the main window, finally he stirred, "Its not that dad, I don't really think you did all that just to keep me from the race. Its just how you treat me, like I'm some kind of punk kid that you can't leave alone for two seconds without worryin he's out stealing from a shop or getting drunk at a cantina."

Lance nodded, "I'll...I can work on that. I see where you're comin from..." suddenly he shook his head, "Come on, lets get packin. You waited this long, we're due to leave 15 minutes."

Artan smiled and slowly stood up, streatching and walked over to his suitcase. Then he, his father, and mother all froze. A wailing alarm screeched over their heads and the lights began to pulsate red. "Code 52, all visitors and personel are to evacutate immediately, repeat-- What?" The man's voice broke off and it was apparent he was talking to someone else in the command center, forgetting that the intercom was still on, "Fuck, you sure? Try baracading it. Damnit they're comin through!" A hail of blaster fire could be heard and a loud scream reverberated across the comm system. There was a breif scuffle and suddenly a second, new voice could be heard speaking through. "This is High Captain Loxar of the starship Malignant to all station personell. We have taken control of the platform and are currently patrolling to keep order on the station. If you encounter our troopers, you are to immediately surrender and you shall be escorted to the main concourse. There, we shall process you and you will all be free to go. Do not panic, do not resist, and you shall remain safe. This is a military action and we shall not bring those actions to bear on civilians, unlike the Empire. All those who do resist shall be met with lethal force. Thank you."

Lance's face had gone pale and he suddenly began to grope under the bed. "Lance, Lance what are you looking for?" Jes asked frantically. Suddenly there was a knock at the door.

From under the bed he pulled out a small modified blaster pistol, then looked to his wife, "Jes, you and Artan hide. I'll get down and see if I can get the jump on em." But it was too late. The door slid opened and five shadows stood, eclipsed by the bright light in the hall. Led in front was a creature in red and black, a monster of fire and shadow. A T shaped void of darkness stabbed like cold iron into the family's hearts as they looked on him, helpless. Lance raised the pistol at point blank range. The blast was so close it would cut through his skull even with the helmet. He pulled the trigger.

It wouldn't pull. He cursed, the safety catch was still clicked on. The monster suddenly turned his razor gaze from the room just upon him and suddenly with a hiss a bright silver blade sprang out from its wrist. With a swift slash the pistol flew down onto the ground, Lance's hand still gripped around it. Then he slashed again, and blood spilled out from his throat. Lance Meyolds crumbled to the ground, clutching at his gaping wound with his remaining hand for just a moment before all the strength left his arm. It was at this moment that Artan screamed and the Monster spoke, still looking down at the father.

"Clean this up," he spoke through the voice receptor and then looked up to the wife who was cradling Artan in her arms. He had almost reverted back into a four year old. Jes cringed as he spoke, she could hear the lust in his voice, "Take her back to the ship, leave her my quarters."

Two of the gray pirates walked up and grabbed her by the arms, she tried helplessly to struggle but they far overpowered her. "I surrender, WE surrender, please let us go," she sobbed helplessly.

The monster looked at her and for the first time pulled off his helmet and set it on the bed beside him. To Artan's suprise it wasn't a beast at all, it was a man. He was pale, in fact almost white, and his eyes were light red with dilated pupils from the low light of the helmet. He grinned at Jes and grabbed her cheeks, pulling her mouth up to his. She struggled to pull away as he kissed her, and managed to bite his lower lip. His smile faded slightly and he spat red blood back into her face, "I'll see you again tonight, doll." She screamed in rage and agony as she was dragged out of the room. Artan stared helplessly, shriveled on the floor in fetal possition, Moricho Aerthur's blazing red eyes were now turned on him. Reaching down to the floor, Moricho pried Lance Meyold's blaster pistol from his disembodied hand and trained it on Artan's forehead.

"Sir, you can't..." came the voice of one of the pirates behind him. Moricho turned his face towards him, blood now trickled in a steady stream down his jaw.

"Ah, you're right," he chuckled and swiched the safety off, turning back to Artan. But then, he hesitated, "Of course, Captain Loxar would be very disappointed. But he has become so weak, and he was right--only the strong deserve to survive." Artan suddenly came to the realization that this man was having an argument with himself, finally the pistol became trained back on Artan, "And you, my boy, are most certainly not strong." Artan closed his tear dreched eyes, waiting to die. "But of course, I couldn't do it just yet, and he would be very angry if I killed you. In his twisted new sence of justice, worms like you deserve to be protected..." his voice trailed off and suddenly a glimmer caught in his eyes, "of course, I don't have to kill you to punish you for your frailty. His only orders were to spare you, so I shall. In fact, I'm doing just like he promised over the speakers...I'm going to let you go."

Artan's heart was pounding. Grief, for at least the moment, had given way to pure and utter fear. The two remaining gray soldiers grabbed him by the shoulders and dragged him from the room. The hallway was littered with bodies, and a large bloodstain was smeared on one of the walls. The pirates stopped at what looked like an airlock. Moricho, holding his helmet under his left arm and the pistol in his right hand, stepped up behind them. "Put him in," he said coldly.

The steel airlock door slid up to reveal a small escape pod. The two pirates pushed Artan in. Moricho's red eyes followed him as he fell, slamming against the cold metal. He brought up the pistol and fired two quick shots, crippling both of the boy's legs. Artan screamed in agony as the door slid shut and the escape pod fired off of the station and into space. Then Moricho turned to the two pirates, "Oh yes, and you two...I'm very sorry you heard what you did." A second pair of shots came out of the pistol, and two insidious thuds echoed in the hallway.

Posts: 1835
Joined: Fri Sep 21, 2001 12:00 pm
Location: Charlotte, NC

Post by Calavan » Fri Mar 26, 2004 2:15 am

The Two Battles
Four Days Later
Jes Meyolds was shackled and pushed roughly into the small cell adjacent to Moricho's quarters on the Malignant and a glistening blue energy field immediately flashed up infront of her. Her resistance was nonexistant, as she collapsed onto the ground, blood running from her ripped pelvis. She weakly lifted her battered head, trying to look the man who had violated her in the eye. At first, she had tried to trick him, hoping to seduce until she had him, and then she planned to go for the jugular. But it hadn't worked. The pale man had been slightly annoyed at her resistance, and had beat it out of her. Soon, she had been too weak to stop him, and only after four hours of multiple rape was he exhausted. Now she endured it day after day, loosing her will and identity with every thrust. The pale face of Moricho Aerthur was now flushed and red and he stared at her sadistically though the blue glow. "I didn't feel like your heart was in it tonight doll, make it better next time or you'll loose your food rations," he sneered. Then he walked over to a table and switched on his comlink.

"Aerthur, Aerthur where are you?" came a distorted voice through the comlink.

"Here Captain, what do you want," Moricho's voice was calm and slimy as he pulled on a shirt over his upper torso.

"Where have you been? I've been trying to contact you for almost an hour," Loxar's reply was stiff and aggrevated.

"I've been here in my room..." he said casually, he had never told Loxar about his new toy, "What is it?"

Loxar's voice suddenly lost all aggrevation and was deadly serious, "Its started."

"Whats started?" Moricho asked, slightly annoyed.

"The Empire's great suprise attack and Endor. The first reports have already come in, apparently the Rebels are trapped between an impenetrable wall of energy, and an impenetrable wall of Star Destroyers."

Moricho's eyes dilated, "Do you--"

"Yes," Loxar said, as if reading his thoughts, "we've got the communication signals patched up on the bridge and a holo-map."

"I'll be there in five minutes," Moricho said, and rushed out of the room.
Although the Viraxo station had been fully cleared out and was under their control, very little had been set up and the base of operations was still the Malignant. High Captain Loxar didn't particularly mind this, however, he always thought that a starship would make the perfect place for a base. Mobile, quick, well armed, unfortunately they were not well suited for permanent habitation. A pirate lifestyle did help this problem some, but it was also much more dangerous and without a place to stockpile goods from raids, it became that much more treacherous. Ahead of Loxar was a massive holographic projetction of the battlefield. The moon of Endor sat softly to the side, orbiting it was the massive Death Star II. Green blips of rebel ships could be seen now mingling with red imperial blips, but a massive wall of hundreds more was holding back.

Loxar hadn't been this tense in a long time. This battle would spell the end for either the Rebellion or the Empire and the outcome would determine his organization's place in the galaxy.

Suddenly a loud hiss let out behind him as the bridge door slid opened. Moricho Aerthur stepped next to the lizard. His usually ghostly white face now looked flushed and almost cheery. Loxar was suprised, he had never seen him like this. "Ah, there you are. The Rebels have found the Emperor's trap."

Moricho nodded, "The trap, but not the suprise." Loxar noticed that his breathing seemed slightly quicker then usual, but attributed it to the haste he had had to make to get ready--he had just woken up.

Suddenly one of the larger green blips signifying rebel capital ships winked out, and the entire rebel fleet began moving towards the wall of large red blips. Over the intercom, which was relaying battle chatter, the gruff Mon Calamari voice of Admiral Ackbar and surly talk of Lando Calrissian could be heard in fragmented bursts:

"That shot came from the Death Star, that things operational!"
"At that range we won't last long against those Star Destroyers."
"--longer then we will against that Death Star!"

Moricho's mouth twisted into a grin revealing long rows of perfectly white teeth, "I bet the Emperor just pissed his robes giggling at this."

Loxar gave a strained smile but said nothing.

Moricho's eyes then drifted to the Draconic, now locked down in the Viraxo yard's ship production bay. He could just make out the station's small utility tugs moving around parts of the shattered bridge, repairing the superstructure. Moricho had to give Loxar some credit, he had been right. Most of those Viraxo dogs hadn't cared about anything besides saving their own necks, and had quickly surrendered. With just a short breifing, Loxar had allowed them all to take up places on the staff. The entire complement of station technicians had surrendered, and were now working quickly to repair the Draconic. Although the station hadn't been able to get off a distress call, the Viraxo would notice one of their stations missing and send ships to investigate--perhaps even call for Imperial help. If they did, the station would need to be ready to defend itself.

"They're going for the Medical Frigate!!" came a panicked scream from the intercom.

"Alpha 6 I have him in my sights--"

"Tie wing Gamma report your status repeat report your status."

"Concentrate your fire power on the bridge towers, if we take those out the Star Destroyers will be vulnerable."

"This is Captain Avery of the Star Destroyer Chimaera, we have multiple fighters coming on your possition Avenger."

"We see them Chimaera, thanks for the heads up."

"Wedge, help me out I've got one on my tail!"

"I got one!!"

"This is Gold Four I'm having a defelctor malfunction."


"Target the YT-1300 freighter, it seems to be leading--AHHHHH"

The green dots were now completely intermingled with the front line of red, but most of the Imperial ships were still holding their possition, watching the battle. They had been told to keep the rebels from escaping, and apparently they were so frightened of the Emperor and disobeying his orders that they did not want to risk leaving their possition to aid fellow ships. Loxar didn't know whether to laugh or pity them.

As the minutes droned on and the green and red dots began to disperse and then condense and then swirl and then disapper all together Moricho's mind began to wander.

Look at him, he wants the Empire to win! Moricho's semi-delerious mind began to whisper. He has forgotten everything. He forgot how his world was destroyed by them. He forgot how we battled them, KILLED them! He is not the same...he can only think about the millions that would loose their lives if the Death Star exploded--about the chaos that would engulf the galaxy. He's forgotten himself. But on the other side of his mind, a quieter, almost lonely voice spoke for what seemed like the first time in years, He hasn't forgotten, he's discovered. He's managed to give up his anger and bloodlust--I should too. I could, if I tried I know I could. I could overcome this constant stabbing anger. How could I even think of murdering him...he saved my life. He recued me from that prison on Delrian. All the other prisoners he had abandoned...but he took me. I owe him my life...

My life? I owe him nothing! I was the one who helped him form the tactics he uses, if it wasn't for me he would have been captured and executed long ago. I built this faction from the ground up and he has reaped all the benefits! He needs to be put in his place.

Put in his place? Am I honestly thinking that? He's been a good friend, he gave me a place to go when the galaxy abandoned me.

But now he's abandoned me too.

Moricho's pale skin had become icy cold and he stumbled as he grabbed hold of his conciousness again.

"Concentrate all firepower on that Super Star Destroyer!" Ackbar's voice bellowed over the intercom. Loxar was no longer standing beside him, instead he had gone back and was sitting in his swivel chair. Moricho stood alone staring at the massive hologram, the red dots were beginning to overwhelm the green.

Then Moricho's jaw dropped. The largest of the dots, a massive red dagger surrounded by green suddenly began to fall out of its possition and towards the Death Star. Then from the intercom a huge wave of jubilant emotion came pouring out as it aproached the surface of the Death Star--and winked out.

Moricho shook his head in disbelief, "They took out the Executor," he murmmured, his voice was barely audible.

Loxar nodded, "Yes...and they're about to--"

Moricho tuned him out, something about the Executor's death wasn't right. It shouldn't have been able to get that close the Death Star. It should have been stopped by the...the shield. His eyes flashed up and locked onto the massive red holographic ball, and inside the sphere were several green and red dots, racing towards the center.

The large trandoshan's arms were wreched stiff against the chair and his jaw was locked in place, large muscles were bulging through his green scales. His eyes were opened wide.

"Try to isolate the comm. signal to the area around the Death Star," Loxar snapped at the communication's officer.

The gran officer nodded and the voices of the fleet faded until only a few could be heard.

"See if you can lure some of them back to the surface!"

"Yes sir."


"I see it!"

"Lock onto that power regulator."

"Move the fleet away from the Death Star!"

"Missiles away."

The green dots, which had made their way to the very center of the red sphere, were now beginning to make their way back towards the exterior. Back in space, the rest of the green dots had pulled back off of the Imperial Fleet and were retreating closer to the planet. Meanwhile a large cluster of red dots was still next to the sphere. Then it was gone. The red sphere vanished so quickly and insignificantly that it was difficult to connect it with the death of millions. Vader had more then likely been on the Executor when it blew and the Emperor was supposed to be on the Death Star. A second later the cluster of red closest to the Death Star vanished as well.


"Alpha 12, did you see that?"

"Roger that Sigma 7, I--"

"Lock on to the nearest Star Destroyer and open fire!!"

"Lets mow 'em down!"


"Pull up, pull up--!!"

"I've lost my left stabili--"

"This is the Dianoga, we just lost our port shield request assistance."

"Lock onto that bridge and fire!"

"Nice shot!"

The rebels were wiping the floor with the Imperials now. Several Star Destroyers had broken formation and were making independent suicide runs at the rebel fleet. Several of the small red dots were flying in random patterns, some running away from the battle just to be picked off by fighters. Others were trying to fight back, but were now lost and disoriented. The carnage went on for almost twenty minutes before an athoritative voice finally emerged through the intercom.

"This is Commander Pellaeon, acting captain of the Star Destroyer Chimaera, all imperial vessels, pull back to the following coordinates. We MUST regroup"

"Negative Chimaera, we almost have them. What? Try to reroute emergency power to the aft shie--"

"Acknowledged Chimaera, pulling out."

"Admiral, the Imperial Fleet is withdrawing, do we pursue?"

"Negative, once they reorganize they'll still outgun us."

"We...we did it! WE WON!!!"

The sound that followed could be described as nothing short of fanatic celebration. Several green dots stopped on the planets surface while others flew in loops and spirals in the sky. Moricho's lips were persed tightly together and Loxar's scaled hand was pressed against his jaw. "The Empire..." he said finally, but let the words fall flat.

Moricho reached down and swiched off the holographic projector and began to step off of the bridge, "I'm going to check on the repairs."

Loxar slowly stood up from his chair, "Yes...I'll be in my new quarters on the station if you need anything." He opened his strong jaws and let out a massive yawn. Moricho didn't respond, he just kept walking. In the depths of his subconcious, another battle was still going on.

Posts: 1835
Joined: Fri Sep 21, 2001 12:00 pm
Location: Charlotte, NC

Post by Calavan » Fri Mar 26, 2004 2:17 am

The Conflict Resolves
Moricho never made it to the repair bay. He walked down the hallways of the Malignant towards the main airlock, but once he was certain Loxar wasn't following him he changed directions and headed for the armory. There wasn't much activity on the halls as he walked down them. Most of the crew was off duty because of the repairs, and they seemed to all be using the time to sleep. When Moricho finally reached the armory, he quickly keyed in his access code and the door slid open with a swift hiss. An emergency light cast a faint orange glow across the otherwise black room. Moricho's hand went to the wall and he flicked on a small switch, causing the incandescent light to illuminate the room.

The ships armory was filled with racks upon racks of firearms, ranging from small handheld blasters to guns as massive as the Merr-Son Portable Missile System and bigger. He was not in here for guns though. Walking past the rows of weaponry he stopped at a small crate with a flipdown lid. Reaching down he gingerly opened the lid revealing what he had been looking for. Sitting at the bottom of an otherwise empty crate was a long spring-device with arm wraps that went all the way up it. On the main collar of the device, which wrapped around the wearers wrist, were four dart launchers, and farther up the arm was another springloaded catch, specifically designed for a combat viroblade knife. The knife, which appeared to be a perfect fit, was laying next to the device, and on the other side was a small black box. Moricho lifted the box and opened its clasp with a quiet click. Inside were four rows of five darts each, two in the box and two on the underside of the lid. Moricho pulled out four and loaded them quietly into the dart mechanism on the spring device. Then, he rolled up his sleeve and strapped it to his arm. Finally, he picked up the viroblade and stopped.

I know what I'm doing. Loxar can't control himself anymore. If I don't do this now, the entire organization will crumble at the seams. If he wasn't crazy he'd want me to do this.

What am I thinking? This is crazy, he hasn't done anything to warrant that kind of accusation.

His hand wavered for a moment and began to set the knife down.

But then again, of course its crazy. Madness is the only answer to madness, and its obvious the captain has regressed into some deep psychosis that only I can free him from. I <u>must</u> free him from it. Its like a virus, and if I don't stop him from destroying himself he'll take the rest of us down with him.

Moricho snatched the knife back up and pushed it into its chamber. If he tensed his arm muscles a certain way the knife would jetison itself down into the palm of his hand. If he tensed his wrist a certain way, the darts would launch where ever his arm was pointed.

Where did he say he was going?

"Yes...I'll be in my new quarters on the station if you need anything."

Ah, thats it.

Pulling his sleeve back down over his arm, Moricho closed the crate, flicked out the lights, and walked out of the armory, now heading towards the Captain's Quarters.
Loxar yawned a long, drawn out Trandoshan yawn. He hadn't gotten to sleep in going on fourty-three hours and felt like he could barely hold his eyes opened any longer. He sat in the captain's quarters on board the Malignant. It was a fairly large room with a luxurious bed and bathroom set with blue carpetting and white walls, quite different from the militaristic feel of the rest of the ship. He sat on his bed, to the left of it was a large dresser with a tall mirror standing beside it. A single light cast shadows around the room from a lamp sitting on the dresser. Looking into the large mirror Loxar noticed the deep pits swelling around his eyes. He couldn't keep doing this to himself. He had expected to be fully wired after the battle, but in reality it had drained him. All the stress and constant wondering had come down to that battle, and when the time came he found himself very apathetic. He had always hated the Empire, and had always hoped that the Rebellion would win, but at the same time he did feel a slight pang of guilt at the millions who died which were only doing their job. It was, of course, true that some Imperials genuinely enjoyed their status. They thrived when they knew others feared them or their power. They relished in torture and demoralizing the crew. But most, were infact normal people. They had families, lives, and things they liked doing. Some of them didn't like their government, others couldn't care less, they had their own problems to deal with. He was sure a great many people like that had died as well, not freedom fighters or oppresionists, but normal people--and that made him saddest of all.

Some change had come over him in the past week. It was dificult to place, but it felt like the opening of a window to a bright day. He had been in the dark, his heart festering and rotting in the darkness of his hatred. But now he felt lighthearted, and although fatigued he felt good about himself for the first time in a long time. Everything was going to turn out alright. Wiping his eyes one last time, he pulled the covers over his body, and turned out the light.
Normally the moment his door opened, the lights would have come on and the bed would have sent a gentle electropulse into his brain to wake him up, but tonight the lights didn't come on. Loxar lay peacefully asleep and Moricho Aerthur stood in the doorway, light streaming past him making his body into an eerie silohette.

I've got to do it now, his mind jibed. I'll never get another chance like this, not when he's alone, not when he's so vulnerable.

Moricho's eyes glistend for a moment and he began to flex his wrist, readying the launchers. Then the lights cut on.

Loxar sat up in bed almost immediately and Moricho's reflexes kicked in. His outstreached arm snapped down to his side and his lunatic grin supressed into a blank stare.

"Yes? Yes what is it?" Loxar asked dazed, his eyes still hadn't adjusted enough for him to be able to see who the shadow was.

Moricho's mind raced...what could he say? "Just coming to report that repairs are going as planned," he heared himself utter. It was weak, but what else was there to say?

"You woke me up for that?!" Loxar hissed, obviously annoyed, but then his eyes locked with Moricho's and mistook the expression of disappointment for one of dispair.

Loxar's voice eased a little, "Ssssit down." he said finally, gesturing to a padded chair on the far side of the room.

Moricho sat stiffly.

One of the Trandoshan's scaly lips turned up into a smile, "Whats on your mind?"

Moricho was quite taken aback. Almost never had he had this kind of conversation with his Captain, in fact the only time he could remember it was during his first few months on board, and those had been private meetings. This was him barging in on his sleep, like a frightened child running to his mother after a nightmare.

"A lot," Moricho conceeded, the weight of the spring-mechanism was suddenly heavy on his arm. "I've been thinking a lot lately..."

"About what?"

"The past," Moricho put simply.

"Ahhhh," Loxar leaned back in bed, "the past. Thats always dangerous" he chuckled to himself, "I seem to have been thinking about the past a lot recently too, not always in fond terms though."

Moricho nodded but remained silent.

"Ahhh," Loxar said again, "I think I know whats on your mind. I suppose I should tell you, I owe you that much."

He's beginning to ramble, a sure sign of insanity Moricho's mind started again, but then quieted.

"You want to know why I picked you on that station," Loxar's eyes looked up at Moricho expectantly and he managed a quick nod and what felt like a very fake smile.

"How'd you know?" Moricho asked.

"To tell you the truth, I've been thinking about it too. Maybe our brains are just on the same wavelength," he sighed and streached back, "I was first getting into my buisness when I found you. The Malignant was brand new, the only ship I've ever bought legit in fact. I actually bought it from that prison a few months before I attacked it, one of life's little ironies I guess. Anyway, when I was scanning over the criminal reports, I realized that they were all pretty messed up people in there...except you. It seemed to me that you had commited almost nothing, something so trivial that the Empire's incarceration of you alone was enough to prove their hipocrasy of a 'fair trial.'"

Moricho thought back to what he had been imprisoned for, He and a couple of his friends, when he was in his late teens, had destroyed an Imperial research probe. It had been an accident, but the local athorities had claimed terroism and had all three of them sentenced to life. His two friends (I can't even remember their names now!) had died in there, but he had survived, phisically at least.

Moricho nodded, "Thank you for clearing that up," he strained.

Loxar's eyes looked at him simpathetically, "Moricho...I...I'm sorry I got you involved in this. I should have turned you over to the rebellion or...or someone--It was wrong of me to use you as the posterchild of the Empire's cruelty. I had no buisness bringing on with me and turning you into a fugative...I see that now. I've begun to see a lot of things in the past few days."

Moricho suddenly felt a pang of guilt, and the once quiet voice now shouted in his mind, I love him like a father, like a friend. How did I ever even consider killing him?.

Suddenly Moricho began to feel his own greif creep into him, "I...its...I wouldn't have had it any other way." He said finally with a genuine smile.

Loxar smiled back and stood up from bed in his pajamas, "Don't worry, it'll be over soon. Soon we'll get to rest."

Moricho's smile never wavered as he began to step out of the room, "I guess I better get back to those repairs...thanks a lot Captain. You don't know how much this means to me."

Loxars eyes were actually watering slightly, "I think I do. Goodbye."

Moricho then walked away, really towards repair this time, and the door slid shut.
Loxar's eyelids never got heavy again. Instead, he leaned back in bed thinking. He hadn't expected that back there, and he knew for a fact that Moricho had never intended on the talk. Maybe all he really wanted to do was give a report, but he had sat through the dialouge and Loxar had detected a profound change in him, as if a dense fog had finally burned away. He had, in fact, told the story mainly for self benefit. His guilt had been growing for a long time, and now he finally felt that he and Moricho were even. He had been suprised though, how stirred the story had made him. His greif and regret had flooded him, and it had taken all the skill he had to keep an outpouring of saddness inside. But he felt better now.

Stepping out of bed, he gave a mighty streach and let his joints settle again as he pulled on his uniform. He had to get out, go on a little stroll around the ship. It wouldn't be long until it and all this was gone. The Empire, in his eyes, was defeated--his purpose served. By the end of next week he was going to surrender himself and his people to the Rebel Alliance.

Moricho's step was quick and seamless as he walked through the halls of the shipyard. His mind was clearer then it'd been sence before--before what?--before his incarceration.

He was starting to understand for the first time why Loxar had done the things he had...the pain was gone.

"Sir," a repair technician straighted as Moricho stepped by him.

His red eyes stopped for a moment on him, gazing at the man. It was an Ensign by rank, he was about five-five and had thinning blonde hair. His eyes were blue and his face unwrinkled. "I'd like a status update on repairs," Moricho said pleasantly.

The technician's eyes jumped for a moment and he ran through a large door, Moricho followed.

They were now standing in a large three walled room with the fourth wall made entirely out of glass. Outside this window was the massive Victory Star Destroyer's bridgetower. Hull repairs were apparently going by quickly, as the basic structure of the tower could be fully seen, and all of the scorched plating had been fully removed.

"We're currently 37% finished with all outer hull repairs, and 69% finished with system repairs. We should be done within six to nine days."

Moricho nodded his head, not looking at the technician but at the grandiose ship. "Very good, thanks for the update."

"Not a problem sir, would you like for me to take you on a tour of our workstations?"

Moricho turned back to the man and nodded, "Yes, that would be good."

"Yes sir, follow me."

Loxar's step was quiet as he plodded down the halls of the Malignant. Slowly the sleep was beginning to creep back into his eyes and he felt like it might be good for him to go back to bed. Rubbing one of his eyes he leaned against the side of a bulkhead and tried to wake himself back up slightly. But before his hand hit the wall it vanished and he stumbled into a dark room, reeking of the odor of sex and lit only by a light blue glow on the far wall.

I've stumbled into one of my crew's rooms he muttered. Very careless of them to have left their door unlocked like that. Must have been in a hurry to get someplace.

Deciding what they did in their rooms was private, Loxar began to gingerly step out--but then he heard it. A muffled scream from the far side of the room, apparently coming from behind the blue field. Loxar's eyes, now larger and able to see more clearly in the darkness, fell onto the bed. It was not made, and apparenlty all the sheets had been torn from it--there was a large bloodstain about halfway down it.

"What the hell went on in here?" Loxar whispered, and then remembered the scream and rushed to the blue forcefield. Curled up in fetal possition and sobbing was a naked woman. Blood was caked onto her thighs and her long brown hair was matted and tangled. She slowly looked up at him and locked her puffy, tear stung eyes with his.

"Your...your not him. Who are you?" she said finally, her voice cracked as she spoke--weak from crying.

"I'm Captain Loxar of this vessel. Who did this to you?" he asked, his voice was thick with disgust.

"Captain...Captain Loxar?" she muttered, "He mentioned you."

"Who, who mentioned me?"

"The pale man...I...I don't remember his name. He said he was going kill...kill you."

Loxar's mouth dropped into a gape, "What, what did this pale man look like?"

He asked her, and for a moment he recognized confusion on her face, "You don't know? He, he acted like he was close to you. Said that you were going to be the end of him and everyone else...said that he had to kill you before you killed the crew."

A thousand questions were pulsing through Loxar's mind. It was apparent now that she was talking about Moricho. But why? Did he really want to kill him? Was she making this up? Was this really his doing? Was that why he was in his room tonight?

After almost a minute of silence the woman spoke again, " didn't expect to find me here. How did you know?"

"I'm done answering your questions," Loxar retorted and walked away, before he did anything else he had to check who's room this really was.

"You're not just going to leave me here are you?!" she screamed back, "I know you. You're different. That's why he wanted to kill you, he said you were...were changing into something that couldn't function. You had developed morals."

The words hung in the air for a long time and Loxar remained motionless. Then he stepped back out into the hallway and looked at the door plate.

Room # 227

That was Moricho's room alright. Loxar stepped back inside, a deep pit welling in his stomach. "He told you all that did he?" Loxar asked, trying to sound skeptical but felt it was very thin.

"He...he didn't really. He thought I was asleep I guess...he has conversations with himself at night. I heard it all. The plans, the plotting, the mindless rantings about your procedures. It sounded like he really hated you."

Loxar shook his head slightly, "And where did he pick you up? I sure havn't seen you before."

She frowned, "I was on the station. He...he barged into our room and killed my Husband, and took me. I guess he killed my son too."

Loxar shook his head, "Did you're husband try to resist?" still trying to justify Moricho's actions.

"Of course he did, he had a family to protect and that man shot him dead for it. Even if he did claim that my husband was resisting, my son sure as hell didn't, and neither did I. I tried to surrender...but he wouldn't listen."

Loxar felt the entire experiance becoming slightly surreal, but finally managed to speak again. "He'll have to answer for his actions."

The woman's eyes seemed to light up, "Does that...does that mean..."

"You're free." Loxar nodded and walked over to the force field and switched its simple power device off. The blue glimmer vanished and the room fell into complete darkness. Bending down onto the floor, Loxar picked up a robe off of the ground and threw it to the woman, then flicked the bedside lamp on.

Reaching down to his belt, Loxar grabbed his comlink. "Repair Tech?" he shouted into it.

"We're here Captain."

"Send Moricho Aerthur to my quarters on the Malignant, and have him escorted by a security force."

The technician's voice seemed to stutter, "Is something wrong Captain?"

"Don't question your orders, just do them," Loxar responded bitterly. He had trusted Moricho, pittied Moricho, and this was the thanks he got. That slimy little bastard wanted to kill him all the time. He was going to turn himself and his men over to the mercy of the Rebellion, but before he did so maybe there was one last life he'd need to take.

"Sir, theres a problem," the tech's voice came back meekly.

"And what might that be?" Loxar muttered.

"He left the repair zone about ten minutes ago halfway through his tour. Said that he was feeling tired and had to turn in. I'd suggest finding him in his quarters, if he's not there yet he should be any second."

It was then that Loxar noticed the door was opened, and Moricho Aerthur's sillohuette was blocking all light.
"Why?" Moricho asked quietly. "Why did you have to find her. Why did you have to come in here. Why did you have to TALK TO THAT SNIVELLING LITTLE BITCH!!!" His voice rose three levels to a demanding scream.

Loxar's eyes scanned him, but there was no weapon to be seen. "It doesn't matter Moricho, I'm sure theres an explanation which I'm dieing to hear."

Moricho chuckled, "You always had a way with words Loxar. Don't try to trick me, she told you everything. How do I know? Because thats just what little bitches like her like to do. I'm sorry Jes, it was fun" he paused, "but all good things have to end sometime." Loxar watched as Moricho reached out his arm and flicked back his wrist. Jes Meyolds collapsed to the ground, one of the poison darts protruding from her neck. Even in the dim light Loxar recognized the dart as a Cinanni Hunting Dart. The poison in that was strong enough to kill a Krayt Dragon in less then thirty seconds. She was dead before she hit the ground.

It was obvious now that Moricho was indeed armed, and Loxar had a sick feeling in his stomach.

"Why, why are you doing this?" He said finally.

Moricho let out a long, fufilling laughter, "Why? Why? Its because of you scaley, if you havn't figured it out yet. You've gotten too soft for the buisness, so like all pack animals when the leader gets weak the strongest takes his place." Loxar was about to say something but Moricho continued his voice cracking a little, "And the bitch of it is--You had talked me out if it!"

Loxar's eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

"Thats right, I was going to let her go. You're little speech to me in your quarters really did a number on me. I was going around feeling like I haven't felt in years, only to come back to the nice little suprise that it had all been a pile of bullshit. WHY COULDN'T YOU HAVE STAYED AWAY!!" He shouted again. "I was going to let you live, in fact I was willing to go with ANY decision you made. I had finally decided that you were right, and that people weren't all bad. I had thought, 'maybe he isn't weak, maybe he's just found a differen't kind of strength.' Was I wrong as hell there. You know, it really hurts...I was starting to think of you as a...a father. A FUCKING FATHER! Can you believe that? I guess stuff really can be too good to be true."

Loxar's mind was swirling. Why had this happened? If Moricho was telling the truth, and he had no reason to lie about it now, then this could have all been avoided if Loxar hadn't rested his hand on the door. It could have all been avoided if he had just keept going or if he had just tried harder to go to sleep. "Mor..Moricho. It doesn't have to be like this. We can start, clean slate. I'll forget all of this ever happened and you can too. Lets go back an hour, back to the way it was before I fell through that door." He stared intently into Moricho's eyes. They seemed to be wandering away, almost disconnected.

I've still got a chance. Here's my lifeline. I can say yes and be myself again. Everything will be back to the way it was, and I'll be able to live with myself. I'll start to live my life the way I wanted to. Everything is changing. The Empire has already begun falling, Endor signified that. Maybe lives can be reformed, just like governments.

No. He's betrayed me and he's just too scared to die like a man. Everything he says is just a lie to save his neck. As soon as he gets to the bridge he'll have me arrested and executed. He's lied to me once, and he's doing it right now. The galaxy may change, but people never do.

Moricho's eyes focused once again on the Trandoshan captain, "I''t"

Loxar felt a pang of hope. He was struggling. Some remant of sanity and morality was fighting back. He just had to make the right decision.

Suddenly the red eyes locked and it was apparent all of the internal conflict was over--permanently. One of the sides had completely taken over, and shut the other one out completely.


Moricho tensed his wrist and Loxar felt something like a stinger jab between the scales in his shoulder. In less then two seconds he was dead.

The bodies of High Captain Loxar was discovered in his room in bed the next day. According to the medics he had been hit with conjestive heart failure that night and died peacefully in his sleep. The repair technician never spoke a word about his interesting conversation. Jes Meyold's body, however, had been burned in an incinerator. It was pointless to have anyone find it, it would only bring out questions. Later that day, Moricho Aerthur scheduled a meeting in the main concourse of the Viraxo ship and trade yard. He stood, wearing his grey uniform with silver epillets on his shoulders, gazing out at the crowd.

"Men and Women, we have all suffered a tragedy that we will not forget. High Captain Loxar was a good man, like a father to me, but we must not greive. I do not take the title on lightly, but I would like to now appoint myself as High Captain. It is what Captain Loxar would have wanted, I think." he paused for a moment before continuing, the massive crowd of men and women staring up at him intently, "There will be some changes which we shall work through in time, but we shall work through them. I have many ideas, and many dreams, and I believe I can build us into something Captain Loxar would be proud of...and something our enemies will fear. This will begin with the completion of repairs on the Victory Star Destroyer Draconic. Our second goal will be to find an independent base whose location is not known by any government entity. I expect that after the current chaos boils down, we WILL see an Imperial visit. Do not worry though, if all goes well we should be gone and fully set up in a secure location in less then a month. Details on these plans will be given at a later date. Ship construction technologies from this base shall hopefully be able to be canabalized and fitted to the new base. My final point is to set ourselves an official name. As we begin to expand in our goals we shall need a name to be recognized. I submit, that from now till the end, we be known as the Phoenix Syndicate."

Moricho's skin was deathly pale as he scanned the crowd for impressions. After a few moments the discussion died away and the entire concourse was silent. Then the crowd erupted in applause.

Distantly, he heard calls from the crowd.

"Long live the Phoenix!"

"We'll make Captain Loxar proud!"

"Nothing will stop us!"

But througout all this, there was a steady cheering, "Hail the High Captain, High Captain Aerthur. Hail the High Captain, High Captain Aerthur."

Moricho then stepped down off of his podium, a deep grin spread across his face and a single thought sweeping through his mind. The Phoenix Syndicate was born.


Posts: 280
Joined: Mon Jan 13, 2003 1:00 am
Location: The Netherlands

Post by BT » Mon Apr 05, 2004 3:00 am

Hi, you'll probaby not know me.I've been a long time lurker here. but anyway, I really liked the story, especially the more psychological side of it. you put that in really well. I was a little disapointed to see Moricho turn completely to the dark side but thats just a personal preference. have you written more about these characters because I wouldnt mind reading more?

Posts: 1835
Joined: Fri Sep 21, 2001 12:00 pm
Location: Charlotte, NC

Post by Calavan » Mon Apr 05, 2004 5:16 pm

:D glad you liked it. As i said at the top, this was first made to be my pirate faction in EVR Campaign 6. Actually, the Phoenix Syndicate is going to be in Galactic Conqeust Online C .5 which started up last night. (if you want to join you still can ;) ). Check on the GCO boards for more stories concering them, im going to start up a second thread leaving where this left off, Moricho Aerthur learns of the Bando Gora cult and the dark jedi, Komari Vosa (killed by Jango Fett as his initiation to get to be the source for the clone army) and goes to the moon of Bogden, Kohlm, to try and see if he can take on their help.

The rest of their story is unwritten, and will be unfolding (along with 13 factions, a waring nation, hundreds of independent nations, and 10 other pirates) over the next months on the GCO boards.

Posts: 280
Joined: Mon Jan 13, 2003 1:00 am
Location: The Netherlands

Post by BT » Mon Apr 05, 2004 11:52 pm

cool. I'll look into it.


Return to “Fiction”