She withdrew her hand and took a small step back, allowing him free space in which to sit up. After shooting Nefrai a questioning look, heavy with implications after what Barnes had just said, she finally turned from him to the others and nodded her head, once.

"Indeed, sustenance would be in order," she said simply. "It has been some time since I myself have eaten, and business arrangements always seem to mesh much more smoothly when agreed upon over a meal."

[ 03-10-2005 02:34 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Minna Manth ]

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Then, with the assistance of a med droid, Aaron lead the way to some personal dining quarters on the Red Level; dining quarters which had been out of use for some time.

Used to be one of Terrin's favorite hideouts, Aaron couldn't help but think to himself, Especially in his more recent past.

Leading the others into the dining area, Aaron motioned for them to seat themselves, and dismissed the med droid, taking his own seat. A personal attendent arrived on the heels of the med droid's departure.

"You may order whatever it is your heart may desire and the cooks will see to its preparation; they are the best on board the Hornett.

Quieting then, Aaron waited as drinks and food were ordered by his guests, Shawn Petrolu, and his second in command. Then, as the attendent departed, he spoke once more.

"We will discuss the issue of payment for this job shortly," Aaron opened with, "But first I feel it important I inform you of the risks. How knowledgable are you concerning the Sith?"

[ 03-25-2005 09:48 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Aaron Barnes ]

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Minna froze inwardly, her years of experience as a spy preventing any hint of her instinctive reaction from making its way into her body language.

Yet she was certain something of it had been given inadvertently away....

The Sith.

How well she remembered the leonine Serke, who had come to her from nowhere, his claims as to who he was, what he wanted her to find for him...

What he had planned for her if she failed him....

True, he had disappeared into the Great Void. But that omnipotent feeling of lurking power that he projected, the sense of an axe just hanging over her bared throat by a hair had never left her; hence, anything having anything to do with the word Sith had a tendency to make her freeze up like a Gandy Rak in headlights.

She blinked.

"Th-the Sith?" she stammered softly, cursing herself for the slip. The attendant arrived with remarkable serendipity then; flashing a quick smile, she reached out for a drink--

Heaven's, it was blue, somewhere, somehow they had gotten that wonderful, wonderful blue liqueur....

--and took a giant gulp. Then, doing her utmost to repress the shudders that insisted upon creeping about in her gut, she set the drink daintily upon the table.

"Umm... aren't they some kind of myth, or something?"

[ 03-26-2005 02:37 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Minna Manth ]

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Why though? What secret could she hold that at the mention of the "sith" could have led to such a sudden reaction?

Mayhaps I was just paranoid, but it didn't seem like her to lie, but then again, how well did he know her. Maybe she had her reasons.

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...she clearly knew something more. Aaron leaned forward. "I'm afraid they are much more than a myth," he responded. "And this search will lead you to the heart of one of their worlds. I am certain my two employees' last known destination was this world; they clearly believed Galen had gone there before them for justifiable reasons. They followed her there, and have disappeared themselves."

He paused at this, letting all the information he had divulged sink in. "Now don't be mistaken. I believe, at least from the information I've obtained, that the Sith as whole are a race like any other; full of those who do as much good as there are those who do evil. Petrolu here has more firsthand experience interacting with them...

...I'm just merely the messenger. But the heart of my request for your assistance is this: I've lost my business partner and that was a major blow, both to our business and in the lose of a friend. Losing these two employees would further the blow Eagle Enterprises has already recieved...

...and aside from that, these men are also my friends. Likewise, Galen Danner is a friend, and she has suffered much more than even just the lose of her husband. I believe you and Nefrai have some skills which will be very needed in this quest...

...and Petrolu will accompany you as well. But this all rests on whether you choose to accept this mission or not; aside from the sentimental nature of it I can garantee the payback will be well worth its risks. I will pay you for any expense you may encounter in relation to the task, and will also upgrade your ship as needed before your journey begins. Finally, I'm also going to offer you 100,000 credits a piece should you be successful."

Pausing one final time at this, Aaron pursed his lips, and leaned back, his look turning vague and thoughtful. "These people are just that important to me."

[ 03-26-2005 03:34 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Aaron Barnes ]

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He did not smile for this, knowing by now it did nothing other than frighten or annoy other beings. "But perhaps Ms. Manth would prefer to do the talking in this exchange, she seems better suited to the role."

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Along with his mysterious powers.

Not to mention the addition of a jedi.

She turned away from the humans, and for a moment merely contemplated Nefrai, who only returned her look with a solemn one of his own.

Then she turned back to Barnes.

"I accept the contract," she said simply, then took up her drink and lifted it, waiting for the others to join her in a toast to cement arrangements...

...which she secretly hoped would not lead to the absolute skewering of a particular little Bothan spy.

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"Very good," he then said, "With your permission then, I will leave you to dine with Petrolu and see to the maintenance and upgrade of your ship. I am hoping you can depart no later than 0600 hours tomorrow; does this suit you, and are there any specific upgrades you would like for your ship?"

[ 04-19-2005 06:03 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Aaron Barnes ]

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Aboard a lone fighter craft, a flashing indicator and incessant beeping break the pilot from his momentary reverie. The pilot recovers after the barest of moments and silences the alarm.

“Good,” he thinks, “arriving as scheduled.” A cursory glance at the instruments indicates that he is on course for his destination, the research facility residing in the Maw black hole cluster. He shivers involuntarily at the thought. “Black holes… they make this one of the most isolated and dangerous facilities in the galaxy.”

With one hand he retrieves his orders from the fighter’s databanks and waits as they scroll over the heads-up display.

NAME: Calto Ramic
RANK: Squadron Leader, Imperial Navy
UNIT: 149th TIE Avenger Squadron, Bravo Wing, 7th Fleet

Other information, including a background sketch and other biographical detail[s begins to scroll by, but he closes the file before it reaches the end. He knows his job, his background, and his true mission: insinuate himself as a new transfer into the research station to ensure the loyalty of the personnel involved in the project to construct one of the Empire’s most powerful weapons: a Death Star.

A more urgent beeping than before catches his attention as the ship begins to shudder ominously. The instruments that display hyperdrive function are wavering erratically – his drive is failing! In this dangerous region full of black holes, he can’t afford to stray from his preprogrammed trajectory, and makes the difficult decision to abort his flight and return to normal space. However, with the powerful gravitational gradients around him, this is almost as risky as remaining in hyperspace. The key word is almost. He reaches for the control to manually exit hyperspace, lifts the plasteel cover, and…

…The world begins to spin violently as the tiny vessel pitches and yaws out of control. Multicolored lights on his panel flash as the computer alerts him that he has left his planned hyperspace trajectory, and is now careening drunkenly toward the restricted area around one of the many black holes in the sector. He reaches for the controls to right his stricken craft when a particularly severe change in attitude throws him sideways, his helmeted head striking a cockpit support pylon. With a bark of surprise, his hands fall away from the controls as blackness descends on him…

A peculiar burst of light heralds the arrival of a tiny craft to normal space. Formation lights blink bravely against the inky blackness, a stark contrast to the fighter’s utter lack of maneuver on its arrival…

[ 04-20-2005 05:03 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Dat Cyprios ]

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HornettScan has completed a short-range-scan resulting in conclusive data on the approach and halt of a ship, its size indicating a prossible fighter, class indiscernable from its current coordinates. Long-range scanning advised.

The man frowned. A fighter? Out here near Endor, in nowheresville...?

Quickly, he keyed in orders for the long-range scan and was immediately rewarded with the exact coordinates of the ship, along with specs. The specs were enough to grab his attention:

Avenger-class TIE Fighter, fully halted.

Knowing not only that the production of Avenger-class TIEs were zero to none, but that the fighters were also generally piloted by elite Imperials, the officer knew something strange might be afoot. And, aside from these things, the fact the fighter wasn't moving didn't ease his suspicions. He immediately hit a switch nearby his control station, one which would activate a general comm frequency which would hopefully be read by the incoming fighter.

Unidentified fighter...do you need assistance?

[ 04-21-2005 03:05 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Terrin's Crew ]

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“--ou need assistance?”

Checking his sensors for vessels in the area, he finds only one: A vessel reminiscent of Lord Vader’s Executor, but different in a number of ways. His tiny fighter’s onboard computer has no data on this particular design. Still, the design is sufficiently distinctive as to be identified as an Imperial vessel. “Hmmm… Perhaps an experimental design,” he thinks as he looks over to verify his position. Much to his surprise his navigational sensors can make neither heads nor tails of his surroundings, returning an inconclusive response. The only thing he did know for sure was that he was far away from the Maw cluster. However, his mission still stood, so he chose to retain his cover identity when contacting this strange new craft. His thoughts stray to the strange readings, “Computer must’ve been knocked out during the…” The memories of his perilous trip returned to him, ending with a sharp <CRACK> and blackness.

Quickly making a decision, he transmits to the large ship on the same frequency. “TIE Avenger Tango One requesting immediate clearance for refuel and refit to proceed to mission objective,” he speaks into his headset. As he concludes his transmission, he sends a standard Imperial authorization packet, one that denotes an extremely high-priority mission. Taking stock of his ship’s status is encouraging: all systems are functioning normally, save for the fact that he’s out of hyperspace fuel. “Doesn’t really matter anyway,” he thinks, “…because the computer won’t let me jump again until it’s repaired. Strange that it registers as ‘functioning normally’ on the diagnostic.” Shaking his head again, he powers up his sublight drive and thrusts slowly toward the hulking Hornett.

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...and dead or not Terrin Danner was still rightfully her Captain...

...had dealings with Admiral Pallaeon. So he knew the probable origin of this code, whether he knew exaclty what it was telling him or not.

An outdated Imperial fighter, of high level...

...and now it was spitting out something that looked highly Imperial and very old...

...and was requesting to dock, refit, and refuel on the Hornett?

The officer reached out in a flash to his commstation, keying in Commander Garrison's frequency. "Ahhh...sir, we have a...

... situation. An Imperial fighter--an Avenger-class TIE, to be more specific--has just come out of hyperspace on top of us and is requesting permission to refit and refuel with us. The pilot states he needs to do so before...

... continuing on his mission. And he has already begun to proceed this way. Reccomendations for action?"

Falling silent at this, the officer put the message through as urgent, and waited, albeit anxiously, for the Commander's reply.

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Falling silent at that, Aaron let these words sink in...

...and became aware in that silent moment of the "urgent" bleep coming from Taylor's comm. He arched an eyebrow even as Taylor turned his attentions to the incoming message and frowned a bit more darkly than Aaron would have liked.

"What is it?" he queried as Taylor looked up.

"Seems we have a TIE Avenger that has just come out of hyperspace and is trying to dock with us to...

...'refuel and refit before continuing on its missin'."

"That's strange," Aaron said, frowning himself. "And disturbing. I'd better see to this one myself, since I am supposed to be the Hornett's acting Captain. And gods know that, if something were to happen to this ship, her owner might return from the dead to shoot me himself," he commented, standing up and addressing Taylor one final time. "Please see to the maintainence of Ms. Manth's ship, and I will return shortly."

I hope, came a black thought Aaron tried to ignore. Then, after getting the deck officer's comm frequency, Aaron nodded politely to Manth and Nefrai and departed from the dining suite, punching the frequency into his wristcomm. "This is Captain Barnes," he started with, "Get a tractor lock on that incoming TIE and lead it into the main hangar bay. I'm on my way."

[ 04-21-2005 06:52 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Aaron Barnes ]

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"...something should happen to this ship...?"

She tried to send that non-verbal message to Nefrai, as though seeking his confirmation of what her ears had just told her. He, in turned, appeared much the same as normal, as normal as he ever could be considered, that is, and once more returned her questioning look with a noncommital one of his own.

A quiet clearing of a throat brought her attention back to Taylor who, judging from the look on his face, was trying his best to keep his own concerns about the mysterious TIE at bay. This only served to ignite Minna's inherent investigative instincts; folding her hands in front of herself, she forced every lick of emotion from her manner and her face, and finally spoke.

"Thank you, Mr. Taylor," she said softly, then went on give him a list of updates she required as though she hadn't overheard a thing.

"If you would be so kind as to see to the replacement of one of my forward laser blasters with an ion cannon, of smaller caliber of course, I would be most grateful... additionally, my shields are limited to simple ray shielding. The mission we are to embark upon may, as has already been indicated, be a dangerous one. The ability to shield my ship from solid matter would be most helpful; please consider this a request for particle shielding as well."

She paused a moment, then raised her goblet.

"And of course, a small supply of this..."

Flashing Taylor one of her rare smiles, she cut her eyes to Nefrai, letting her facade of near indifference drop as she sent him a meaningful look.

"0600 tomorrow then, as Captain Barnes has suggested; is this agreeable to all?"

The look she sent Nefrai did not at all complement the innocent affirmation of her last statement.

[ 04-22-2005 11:40 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Minna Manth ]

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As he nears the ship, a few unsettling details nip at the edge of his consciousness. The ship lacks the standard markings that he would expect, though this might be due to this being an experimental vessel. The crew’s communications weren’t quite what he expected either, but what would one expect from a ship full of engineers? As he neared the hangar, though, his unease began to display itself in earnest. The other craft contained there were not orderly lines of TIE fighters; instead, all manner of craft of various classes could be seen.

His thoughts dart to the cargo pod attached to the fighter that contain his possessions, including his weapons. Defenseless, he rides the tractor beam in until the fighter rests on the deck of the hangar. After the briefest of checks for atmosphere and the like, the unknown pilot depressurizes the cockpit and opens the hatch.

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He rose from his chair and stood behind it, looking curiously at Manth, though it did not show upon his skull.

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Why in the Fates was a fighter out here near Endor, where there was absolutely NOTHING? What possible mission could this guy be on?

Finally approaching the fighter, the guards flanked Aaron on either side, at the ready. He folded his hands behind his back, and watched intently as the TIE fighter's pilot opened the hatch to his ship and climbed out in pilot attire, his helmet still on. Aaron pursed his lips and erased all emotion from his face. The pilot, who seemed only the slightest bit hesitant in his demeanor, proceeded forward through the aisle the flanking gaurds had created between him and Aaron.

As he approached, Aaron finally spoke. "Please, state your name and business," he said simply, the words falling into a moment of eerie silence.

[ 04-22-2005 08:19 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Aaron Barnes ]

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After a moment’s hesitation as he examines his surroundings, including the various craft of unfamiliar configuration and the strange uniforms of the sentinels, he begins to stride purposefully forward, all the while seemingly ignoring the guards who part to clear his path. Their uniforms are strange, he thinks to himself, but this is to be expected from a ship of engineers. Stopping while still a reasonable distance from the man standing alone, he doffs his helmet and tucks it under his arm, revealing his face for the first time.

A number of possible introductions come to mind, and he discounts most of them as problematic for one reason or another. A few moments are spent sizing up the other man before he finally speaks.

“Squadron Leader Calto Ramic, en route to assume command of 149th TIE Avenger Squadron, currently attached to 7th Fleet conducting anti-smuggling operations in the Kessel system.” Not too far from the truth, he thinks, as the Maw cluster is nearby, but perhaps the priority authorization code I used was a bit much. “I entered an area of hyperspace instability, and ended up here.” His voice holds no ill-will, only the self-assured confidence of one who is used to being in control. “I require fuel and whatever repairs are necessary so that I may continue on to my destination. I must also contact Coruscant to explain my situation to my superiors at the High Command."

After allowing a brief moment for all of this to register with the man before him, he asks, "Which way to the Communications Center? I’m not familiar with this class of vessel.”

[ 04-23-2005 12:31 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Dat Cyprios ]

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"We can repair your fighter," Aaron opened with, unsure of just how else he could start such a conversation, "But we'll have to assess the damage before I can give you an estimate on the cost," he continued with.

Then he couldn't help but add, and admittedly with a bit of his puzzlement obvious, "Did you say the 149th TIE Avenger Squadron? I thought the famed Squadron lead by Baron Soontir Fel was the 181st, and that was some time ago..."

He trailed, finding himself in another awkward moment of silence as he waited for the pilot's reply.

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“The 181st? That squadron isn’t even operational yet! It’s just now being raised; it’s pilots are green trainees… And who is this ‘Fel’?” He pauses, then continues, “What is this vessel? Is this a prototype? I’ve not seen its like, though Lord Vader’s Executor is relatively close in design.”

After a few moments of silence, he speaks again, “Please… Enlighten me… I seem to be at a loss in this situation.”

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Aaron's look actually grew darker. "The Executor?" he quried. "That vessel was destroyed during the Battle of Endor. This is an Eclipse-class Superstar Destroyer, and there are others of her kind around. As for the 181st, it was very operational, especially during Thrawn's time. As for your 149th, and 7th fleet...

...I could be mistaken, but I believe those were both destroyed during the Second Death Star battle as well. So your cover has just been blown. Who are you really, and how and why have you come to Hornett?"

As Aaron made his final query, the guards flanking the two men snapped to even greater alertness, their weapons now in their hands..

...and ready, if need be...

[ 04-23-2005 10:09 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Aaron Barnes ]

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A TIE here, at the Hornett? Had the New Empire, after all this time, decided to nail them for not being forthcoming concerning all their contacts, especially not concerning Admiral Gilad Pallaeon, who was still lurking out there, somewhere? But then, why would they send a single TIE? Unless this one was merely the first...

Taylor shook himself from his concerns, and turned his attentions to Minna Manth. "No, your requests are not unreasonable, not at all," he replied honestly. Then he keyed in the frequency for Maintainence and Repair into his wristcomm and listed off Minna's request to them, ending with the orders that all this was to be completed by 0500 hours, so that or the Captain could inspect the ship...

...and so that Minna could inspect them herself before departure. Closing off the frequency then, he returned his attentions to Shawn, Minna, and Nefrai. "You will get a chance to inspect the maintenance and see that it is done to your specifications before you depart," Taylor explained aloud. "And I will see that some of this..." He continued with, pointing to Manth's favorite liquor, "Is placed aboard your ship as well. Is there anything further you would like to ask, or will be needing before the morning arrives...

...or would you like to be directed to some resting quarters?" he queried, falling silent and waiting for Math and Kesh's reply.

His mind reels. "Battle of Endor?" he thinks. "What Battle of Endor? The newest Death Star is there, but... How could there be a 'battle'? The Rebels must have found out... I've reviewed the latest intelligence from that sector -- all was quiet! And the Executor... En route to Endor, but she definitely wouldn't have had time to get there yet... Would there have been a change of plans? What the hell is going on here!?

He stands for a time in silence, contemplating the proper course of action. On one hand, this could all be a very cleverly-designed ruse, meant to cause him to reveal classified information. Still, there is a point at which something becomes too strange to be a lie. This story is one of those cases. At any rate, he makes a decision, one that will most likely affect the rest of his (perhaps quite short) life.

"Major Dat Cyprios," he says in a low, hard voice, "of the Imperial Royal Guard." After letting that sink in for a moment, he speaks again. "I was tasked with covertly infiltrating a research facility in the Kessel system, to ensure the loyalty of the facility's personnel to the Emperor. The orders were given to me personally by the Emperor before he left for the construction facility at Endor. No sense in keeping up the "Ramic" facade, since my all-too-distinctive arms and armor are in the cargo pod. "I was en route to said research facility when I started experiencing gravitic turbulence in hyperspace. I tried to hold my course, but I seem to have failed, since I am now here, as if I knew where /here/ is."

His voice cools noticeably as he finishes, "There are your 'how' and 'why'. Now... Neither the Seventh Fleet nor the Executor have had nearly enough time to arrive at Endor from their respective stations at Coruscant and Kessel, yet you say that they've already been destroyed, in a battle that hasn't happened. So this leaves us at an impasse: One of us is lying..."

"Or else something is very wrong..." he finishes in thought.

[ 04-24-2005 02:31 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Dat Cyprios ]

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