There he paused a moment.

"Gentlemen," he said as using a private and unbreakable code he keyed open the door. Within the open rectangle was revealed another corridor, one which snaked away parallel to the primary corridor they had been walking along, and one which lead to a back entrance to his ready room, thus by-passing the antechamber altogether.

"It has been a day; please, see to the comfort of our guests by granting them quarters to their liking. I shall meet again with them tomorrow."

With that he nodded in casual salute then entered the corridor, now accompanied by his two highest-ranking officers, two highly trained personal guards and his top aide. They came to the ready room, which they entered and then crossed, coming to a halt before another door, one likewise simple in appearance, not drawing attention to itself.

"Keep me informed as to the status of the detainee; I still wish to know how a jedi came to possess that dreadnaught."

He turned to enter into his private quarters, but paused again.

"And speaking of, make contact if possible. I want that ship back in our hands within twelve hours. Is that understood?"

The officers saluted their affirmation.

"Good," the general replied as he saluted them in formal dismissal, turned, and entered his chambers, accompanied only by his aide. The two guards took up a stance outside the door, and remained rigidly unspeaking there.

The officers turned and departed the same way that they had entered the ready room, going back to the main corridor and from there on to obey the last order Ahem had just directed. There fellows by this time had already dispersed to their own quarters, or perhaps to the recreational lounge, a somewhat new development aboard an Imperial vessel.

After quickly conferring with each other, the most senior of the two approached Communications. The young lieutenant there moved aside, that his ranking officer could take over his station.

The officer flipped open the maintained link with the unknown vessel.

"This is Sormontato. Might I inquire as to your sudden change of heart?"

Sending the transmission, he then flipped the comm-link from send to receive; while waiting he opened another communication. This one, however, was nothing other than a mere squirt, tightly bound and highly encrypted, piggy-backed upon yet another broad-spectrum scan and aimed directly for the ominously hovering dreadnaught.

"Within the hour."

He then closed the connection completely, letting the scan complete its circuit of the vessel, and turned back to await any reply he might receive from the tractored ship.

Aboard the Flower of Carnage...

The mole slid his eye around the command deck; good. No one caught the blip, no one saw his surruptive movements. Nodding to himself, he leaned over his boards, seeming to be lost in his duty to any eyes under which he might be scrutinized. In actuality, however, he was laying the groundwork for actions soon to follow; he had very little time in which to jam the connections in several key systems aboardship.

He hadn't raised to the rank of Major because he was stupid. It wasn't long before his careful manipulations were complete. Letting out a small breath of air, he shifted fractionally in his seat, pleased with the knowledge that before the day was out he would once again be wearing the uniform to which he truly owed his allegiance.

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

"Sormontato, this is Soman Socar, I suppose you could say I was a little 'shy' but it appears you are taking care of my companions, and I wish to join them."

He awaited their response.

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

"Sir--?" he queried, then turned back to his console, his fingers poised.

The Officer on Deck merely shook his head.

"Belay any further action, Lieutenant," he said, now coming up beside him where he stopped, standing at his shoulder. The lieutenant cocked his head toward him, then nodded as the Officer on Deck tapped his chronometer meaningfully.

The lieutenant transmitted back to the tractored ship.

"Soman Socar, if you would just bear with us a moment longer..."

He then turned his attention to other matters, sending pre-determined orders out across the intraship communications system, ordering all troops to their vessels. All aboard the great SSD hundreds followed that order, first dressing themselves in self-contained survival suits.

They then boarded their ships and swarmed out like angry bees leaving a hive, heading straight for Flower of Carnage.

(Aboard the Flower of Carnage...)

The Major closed his eyes, concentrating on his silent count. He opened them, checked his chronometer.

The time was now.

The movement small and unnoticed by anyone, his finger touched a keypadd...

...and all hell promptly broke loose upon the dreadnaught.

Lights went out, to be promptly replaced by the stridently red-flashing emergency ones.

A klaxon began blaring, harsh and shrieking.

Every hangar bay door opened, much to the dismay of the few crewmembers who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time...

...and throughout the ship excess carbon dioxide, stored away for later disposal, the remnant leftover from the natural act of breathing that was not recycled in some manner; this gas began flooding the ship.

The Major reached under his console, drawing out a rebreather which he put on. Then he made himself scarce, able to do so in the general ruckus which was erupting aboard ship.

There is certainly something to be said about military training, he mused to himself as he headed toward a preordained meeting place: a storage locker close to one of the docking bays. Everywhere he went, the civilian crew were in a panic, a few striving to maintain calm, passing orders. But the majority were running about like ants without a queen, not understanding what was happening and thus afraid.

Still smiling, the Major opened the door to the storage locker, there to join with the seventy-some other crewmembers left-over from when the usurpers captured the ship. One of them carried a blaster he had managed to obtain; he handed it to the Major, who promptly melted the connections which operated the door. He then sent a signal out toward Sormontato, which was promptly answered.

He then turned back to the group, smiling as best he could around the rebreather in his mouth, noting with satisfaction that all present were likewise fitted with one. They hunkered on the deck, awaiting rescue, while all around the dreadnaught its crew members were dropping like flies, overcome by the rising carbon dioxide levels.

He glanced at his chronometer.

Give it a few more hours; this is a big ship...

Outside the door then came a blessedly wonderful sound: the rhythmic beat of footsteps marching in military precision as the first of the Imperial troops swept past his hiding place, undoubtedly en route to the bridge where they would then take control of the ship that, theirs to begin with, would be theirs once again.

[ 10-09-2005 02:52 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by The Empire ]

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

Sorta like Shayla and her x-wings and other various little frieghters. Ahhh, what a good ship can do to a good pilot who should be elsewhere studying instead of out flying...

...but then, Shayla always managed...

Shawn's look was unreadable, and he reached for the communit on the infiltrator. "Okay, we're gonna blast out of here to the coordinates I've already given you on my mark," he stated, speaking to Dat and Nefrai aboard the other ship. He turned to Sarisa another moment, making certain she had inputed the coordinates into the navcomputer as well before turning back to the communit. "See you just outside Khar Delban space, guys. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1...

... Mark."

As the final words passed through Shawn's lips, both ships simultaneously bursting forward into starlines then into hyperspace.

And so the task of finding Galen, Jasyn, Matt, Shayla, and Erik and begun, this time for certain...

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

Soon after he contacts his other unknown companions aboard the second ship.

Shawn double checked that Sarisa had correctly input the coordinates into the navicomputer. Which being a good pilot she had put them in correctly.

Must be a pretty important mission if he feels the need to check to make sure she had done it right.

"5,4,3,2,1...mark."

The ships stretched into the deep reaches of space as they engaged their hyperdrives.
And we're off. she thought to herself.

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

"Excuse me. All of my belongings are on my ship, which is aboard the Flower of Carnage. Is there any way for me to retrieve them?"

Normally she doesn't care about belongings as she never really had any. But, any change of clothes, and all of her father's datapads are on the ship. She knows this ship surely had extra clothing it could offer, but nothing can replace the datapads from her father. Not knowing exactly what is on them, she would hate for them to be viewed by anyone but herself, or to lose them completely.

((ooc: I have changed this post to coninside with the previous posts. Sorry for the misunderstandings))

[ 10-10-2005 02:18 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Kitiana ]

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

"Strange, that now you would ask such a thing," he commented, quite casually. "I would have expected that such items would have been taken with you to begin with, when you departed from that dreadnaught.

"Unless, of course, you do not plan on ever returning to her--?"

His composure never wavered, but something deep in his eyes turned suddenly glacial.

"Might I ask exactly what it is that prompted this request?"

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

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

She watches them for a moment before continuing

"I would like to freshen up and change clothes, and go over some information that is stored on my ship. Perhaps I should have brought the items with me, but...things happen."

Kitiana siffles a yawn as she continues to stand in the doorway. She hasn't had much sleep in the past several days, and wanted to hurry this up so she could get some sleep.

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

"Strange, to thus allow oneself to be subject so to the whims of fate. How one can accomplish anything in this manner is unfathomable to me."

He paused, pursing his lips a bit as he eyed the clearly drooping Kitiana.

"It was our impression that you were en route to the Praxeum; this was to be a short visit then?"

He blinked, glancing again at his superior officer, who only nodded slightly and remained quiet.

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

The officers waited, silent.

Before them, Kitiana had fallen into sudden silence as well, seeming to sway a little as she stifled another yawn. She blinked, just looking at the two Imperials.

They exchanged another glance.

"I see you are quite fatigued; such questions as we have been putting forth to you do not need to be posed here, now. Please, take this opportunity to rest; you will find various items of clothing in the locker inside your quarters."

The Major stepped forward then, taking Kitiana lightly by the arm and turning her toward the door. It whoosed open, revealing a small but comfortable room which sported a bunk, a chair, table and attached desk/counter, and the aforementioned locker. Over in the corner a half-wall marked the position of a discreetly hidden head and shower.

The Major nodded, gave Kitiana a little nudge.

"Good night, Miss," he said, giving her a formal half bow. "Sleep well; the General will call for you in the morning."

He backed away them, waiting until she had disappeared inside, the door whooshing closed in her wake. He then turned to the Captain, who only arched a brow.

"Shall you report this or I?" he asked with a slight chuckle; the Captain merely shifted his weight and then gave a quick salute, whirled and departed to report to the Officer on Deck, who would then pass this information along to General Ahem.

The Major sighed, shook his head, and continued on aft toward the recreational lounge. He wanted a nice, cool one before he turned in for bed himself.

Meanwhile, aboard the Flower of Carnage...

Time passed, stretching minutes into hours. All this while the Major sat in undisturbed quiet with his fellows, listening to the rise and fall of the general brouhaha outside the door. Indeed, it seemed as if the noise level was falling more than rising now, that there was lengthier and lengthier spaces of time between each little outburst, and that the rhythmic pound of marching, booted feet came more and more as the Imperials swept through the dreadnaught, making her their own once more.

The Colonel in charge of the infiltration stood at an upper deck of the bridge, staring down at sweet success. The entire bridge crew was out for the count, their breathing slowing and becoming more and more stentorian as the atmosphere filled with more and more carbon dioxide. He nodded a little impatiently as his troops moved swiftly from body to body, cuffing each one, until at length the usurpers lay completely bound, unconscious. He lifted his communicator, barked several orders, waited until all had been responded to.

Major Konig's crew was taken. The ship was theirs again.

Quickly he shot another order; a loud hissing sound began to fill the bridge as oxygen was pumped in to replace the carbon dioxide before the usurpers all died. He nodded again, smiling to see the alacrity with which his troops then sprang out, to take the crew members one at a time and drag them off to a cleared hangar bay, there where they would be held until a means would be determined to send them all to the surface of Tatooine.

His smile broadened as the last of the bridge crew was dragged off, completely replaced now with Imperial officers. After a bit more time had elapsed he took the rebreather from his mouth, took a cautious breath, and then a deeper one.

"Communications, alert Sormontato that we have regained the dreadnaught," he barked, watching with even greater satisfaction as the brief order was carried out. He then sent a small contingency out into the corridors, there to search each and every storage locker, not only for hidden stragglers but to find their own hidden officers.

He reached out a hand to a nearby railing, ran his fingers over it lovingly.

Welcome home....

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

"Thank you."

He leaves and she goes to freshen up, finding the clothes in the locker. She rustles through them quickly and grabs some items; not being too picky on how they look. She takes her shower, changes, and falls into a light sleep.
"If you were going to kill me, why didn't you find someone worthy to go traipsing around the galaxy with? Hanging around with Jedi and their collegues. What a waste."

"What would you have me do? You treated me like crap, and then lie about everything. I did what I was told to do, and that was to kill you. Now, I am living by the moment; and that does not include you!"

Kitiana wakes up with a start and looks around her room. Why does she always hear him? Conscience for killing him? At least he's dead, and she doesn't have to worry about him anymore. She sighs and falls back asleep.

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

He jerked upright, shaking his head quickly. Around him was the solitude of his darkened quarters, a digital display revealing the time in soft blue numerals, the hum of air circulators the only sound coming to his ears, other than...

His comm bleeped for attention, as quietly insistent now that he was awake as it had been in his dreams. Shaking his head with a somewhat rueful smile, he reached over and flicked it on.

"Ahem," he said succinctly, his smile fading as the blue numerals off to one side informed him that it was either quite late, or very early, depending upon one's personal viewpoint of the universe.

The frown evaporated as he listened to the words being spoken. After a bit they stopped; he cleared his throat, and opened the comm to reply.

"Send her with a three-quarters crew to our shipyards in Ambria; I want that-- that ridiculous insignia she bears blasted off of her, and to have her repainted the nice clean white which she deserves.

"And for goodness sakes make certain she is designated correctly; she's the ISS Tolerancia."

He paused a moment, ascertaining if there was anything else of import he should order. Coming up empty handed, he merely signed off with his usual, "Ahem, out."

Puzzlement tinged not without a touch of outright concern.

At length he could keep his thoughts to himself no longer. Risking being booted off of the command deck altogether, knowing that if the gods were with him and his concern indeed proved one to be reckoned with -- tantalizing him with the possibility of a fast promotion, perhaps -- he spoke up.

"Sir," he said, speaking clearly and succinctly.

"I-- the dreadnaught has been taken, and those of our men not ordered to crew her are returning to Sormomtato now. Yet--"

He gulped, shifting away from his console to eye the approaching Officer on Deck.

"Yet the pilot of the ship we still hold says nothing. He hasn't tried to contact us whatsoever, and I detect no systems being engaged as if he were trying to escape.

"It-- it isn't natural, Sir. I mean, he came with those who came from that dreadnaught, and yet he remains silent."

His growing concern was mirrored in the eyes of the Officer on Deck, who immediately came up to peruse his boards. Indeed, there was no new sigil blinking, telling of any incoming transmissions. All that showed was the latest one coming from the dreadnaught, in which the captain in charge had responded that the order from Ahem had been received, and that they were underway. Indeed, this was so; the space once holding the giant dreadnaught was now empty of anything other than the odd bit of space dust or errant long-chain molecule. The once-called "Flower of Carnage" had left for Ambria, her crew deposited cleanly upon the surface of Tatooine where they were given quarters in the Imperial barracks, there to await a transport bound for Coruscant.

The Officer on Deck frowned, tightening his lips.

"Good lad," he replied, laying a strong hand upon the young lieutenant's shoulder.

"This is strange indeed; one would think that comm-board would be squawking like a Toydarian who had just found himself robbed."

His look darkened.

"I don't trust this; let him stew where he is. I'll bring this to the general's attention in the morning."

With that he nodded and departed on his rounds, leaving the lieutenant to stare out at the viewscreen which showed a tiny speck: the entrapped vessel bearing the entity who called himself Soman Socar.

His lip quirked upward though, for even his stringent military training could not keep at bay the rising sensation of pride in a job well done which now filled him.

[ 10-17-2005 09:15 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by The Empire ]

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

Not to mention the ship they yet held in the tractor beam which, contrary to any form of logic he was aware of, remained ominously silent in the face of what had to be certain knowledge as to the fate of the dreadnaught it had been associated with.

That bodes no good, this is a certainty, Ahem mulled to himself as focused on his morning ablutions.

I agree with the command deck consensus: that pilot is not one to be trusted. But what to do with him? He cannot fire either his engines or his weaponry, so long as we keep him in the safety of the tractor beams. But who is to say what he will do when released?

Understanding our point of view in this entire matter is undoubtedly a moot issue, I would think.

He let a puff of air escape him, settled himself at his desk, his aide at his side. From there he called for their two guests, who soon arrived.

He gave the pair of them, the one called Xenn and the odd-eyed female named Kitiana, a calm look. Then he leaned over his desk, folding his hands and laying them atop it.

"I am prepared to see to your passage to the Praxeum on Tatooine, which you stated earlier as being your planned destination. But, due to safety issues, I'm afraid you will have to leave your ships here."

He paused, keeping his face utterly calm against the growing thunderclouds he was now reading in theirs.

"We shall shuttle you planetside, see you to the Praxeum. When you desire to leave, contact us at this frequency--"

He rattled off a number.

What kind of safety issues would one encounter by taking their vessels planetside? She looks at him a bit questingingly, but knows he has his reasons. Of course, she wants to know what's going on that neither Xenn or herself knows about. For the time being she keeps her questions to herself. At the end of the General's words she speaks up.

"What if we decide we wish to stay at the praxeum and help?"

She doesn't know what they will find when they reach the praxeum, and she isn't quite sure what to make of the jedi 'joining' with the empire. Though she knows she doesn't have all the information, she also doesn't have a valid reason not to try and place some trust in them. Thus far, they have been reasonably hospitable. Besides, Sarisa trusted them enough. Kitiana wonders when they will next see her.

[ 10-20-2005 10:58 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Graysith ]

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

"It is hoped that you do decide to remain at the Praxeum; there are so few jedi there as it is to teach what younglings have come to our new school."

He took another sip, then leaned back in his chair.

"Very well then," Ahem concluded, setting his cup down, a smile beginning to stretch across his rugged features. With a flick of a finger he opened a comm to the hangar bay.

"Prepare shuttle 76-A," he ordered succinctly, then flicked the connection closed. Still smiling, he rose to his feet.

"My aide will escort you to your shuttle, and you will be taken downplanet. When you wish to return, you may contact us at this frequency."

He keyed a number into a small datapadd, which he then handed to Kitiana, who of the pair looked to be the least distrusting.

"We will then retrieve you. Take care, and what is it you tell each other? Ahh, yes.

"May the Force be with you."

He nodded in dismissal, and the aide leapt into action, motioning the pair to follow him. Ahem watched as all three departed; not long thereafter he was notified that the shuttle had left Sormontato for the New Praxeum out in the Dune Sea.

Ahem nodded in satisfaction, then contacted the bridge again.

"This is General Ahem speaking," he opened. "As far as the ship yet in our tractor beams is concerned--

"Has there been any further contact?"

His query was rejoined by a quick "Negative, sir."

He sighed briefly, then made his reply.

"Release him from the tractor beam. Unless he contacts us with his desire to do so, he will not be allowed downplanet, especially not flying that ship. Conversely, he is small enough not to concern us unduly; let him go."

"Aye, General." came the crisp reply.

General Ahem let out another sigh, and retrieved his cup from his desk. Lifting it to his lips, he turned to his viewport where he stood a long moment, staring down at the rusty mass of Tatooine as it hung there below them in space.

Kitiana stated simply for both herself and Xenn; who thus far had remained silent. It was odd to her that he hadn't said anything since yesterday since he almost always had something on his mind. She shrugs it off for the time being, noting that she would need to talk to him later.
She takes the datapad and stores it under her cloak along with her many other items she carries. Without objection she follows their escort to the shuttle and settles in for the ride downplanet. After a moments silent she turns to Xenn.

"Is something troubling you?"

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

Lt. General Tarnus stretched his muscled body, letting his head fall back as he allowed himself to relish the luxury of a full-immersion bath. There were few such facilities on SSDs, for even there must precious water be conserved.

But rank does have its privileges.

Tarnus let a sigh escape him; while not a creature who normally chased after life's hedonistic desires, he did privately cherish this one small aspect of it. For it was here, in the soothing warmth of the tiny spa, that his mind was absolutely freed from all physical restraint. The more his body relaxed, the more his mind was able to assess and analyze and collate.

But even the mind deserves a rest.

The Lieutenant General was doing just that, giving his mind and body a rare moment of absolute relaxation, when a wall-comm chirrupped apologetically.

He grunted again, sitting up, water dripping off of his honed body, to slap a fist against the receiving button.

"Yes?"

The syllable was neither angry or disgusted, instead being carried upon the inflections of neutrality.

The reply he received made his brows rise. After a moment--

"They have been taken to the surface? And the crew--?"

More chatter. His brows began settling to their normal resting place, when there was an ominous pause.

The speaker blurted out a quick chatter.

He blinked, shooting to his feet, water dripping.

"You're certain of this? Sullust--?"

The speaker confirmed.

He was moving from the bath even as he answered, now reaching to wrap a soft towel about himself.

"Inform Ahem I wish to speak with him."

The speaker squawked obedience. There was a moment or two of silence before the Captain's voice came on. Sorben quickly directed him to his private frequency, and when after a moment's further silence the speaker squawked again, he finally spoke.

"I applaud your spies, and am delighted to know that Ms. Manth was among them. Please direct her to this ship, which she will have free clearance to approach and board. I would like to speak with her in person. But as to the information she and the others have provided--

"I direct Sormontato to proceed to Sullust with all due haste. Use your own judgment, but...

"The Body shall die when we cut off its head. This organization represents a great threat to the New Federation and its citizens, and will not be tolerated."

He paused a moment longer, then added, "After all, the Mandate Actar laid down was one of Order, which I shall follow to the letter."

The speaker squawked a final time, and went quiet. Tarnus quickly dressed and returned to his quarters, there to mull over what he had just learned as he stood before the giant viewport, staring down upon the glacial body of Khar Delba which hung beneath his ship.

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

It seems it never ends. Thus are the real fruits of a life in military high command, especially during times of change.

Straightening, he then opened a connection to the bridge.

"This is General Ahem speaking. Under new orders from Lt. General Tarnus, we are to proceed forthwith to Sullust. A full planetary and orbital scan shall be implemented from a distance the moment we break from hyperspace; I do not wish to announce our presence too suddenly."

He paused again, pondering. Then-

"Give Ms. Manth whatever she wishes, the Lt. General was most pleased with her work.

"Ahem, out."

He turned from his viewport, staring down at the rusty ball of Tatooine which, even as he watched began to slowly slide off to one side. It was soon replaced with nothing but the pinprick splendor of the stars, which in turn suddenly smeared themselves into the signature streaks of hyperdriven space.

He smiled softly to himself, then proceeded to get himself another cup of tea.

Follow Ahem and "Sormontato" into Dark Star, Black Sun" in the "CSWU" forums, thank you.))

Her ship was going to get the refits she wanted all along, for from past experience she knew the Empire to be good to its word. They never failed her yet.

Like you failed Nefrai and Shawn and the others...

She shifted uncomfortably, taking a vicious slug of her drink.

Nonsense. They were going to deal with-- with the--

Sith.

Anyone who had been observantly watching at that moment would have seen the effect of the shiver which then raced through her body. It rippled as an almost tangible wave, sending her slight frame to skittering about a little upon the seat of the booth she was occupying.

Luckily that booth was in a far-off corner of the lounge, as well as that in general people in such places usually pay no heed to anything but their own, immediate surroundings. If that.

She clenched the goblet, forced herself to calm down. Thought about her ship.

When we get to Sullust, I'm taking a little vacation. Then it's off to Ambria for the refit, and time to disappear for awhile again--

Her immediate future as secure as she could imagine it to be, she let out a deep breath and called over the steward, to order another drink.

Follow Minna into Dark Star, Black Sun in the "CSWU" forums, thank you.))

[ 11-05-2005 02:43 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Minna Manth ]

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

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

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