#Hellas Fleet Yards#
Blackhawk stood in front of a holographic projection of Farpoint Station. The Saraaskar had become troublesome tenants. That needed to change. It needed to change now.
“Plagueis will no longer tolerate the presence of slavers in our midst. Destroy them, and ensure the consequences of their activities are known.” the Dread Lord had commanded.
The Clawdite studied the tactical information. There were nearly two hundred of them, a freighter, and of course, the station itself. Farpoint would need to be destroyed, but in order to send the right message, Blackhawk decided that exterminating the Transdoshans would require a more personal touch. He made the call.
“Any members of 0lagueis who want in on destroying some irritants in our space, meet meat Hellas Fleet Yards.”
He turned to a nearby lieutenant.
“Ready our troops. We’re going in whether we have help or not.”
Lt. Col Treel, the newly named Head of Civil/Military Cooperation for the Ascendant Outreach Corps, in addition to leading his freelance commando team, was jolted awake by the sound of a priority comm coming in on his link.
He rolled out of his bunk in the Captains Cabin aboard his new ship, the YT-2000 class Atonement, and opened the call.
“Yes?”
“Hey bud, its Kalen, how ya doin?”
Treel sighed, “I know it is you, your digital credentials are included in the info that appears on my display. I am sleeping. What do you need?”
“Oh, sorry about that, I just seen that Blackhawk put out a mobilization order for some mission to go take out some slavers or some such, thought you might be interested.” Kalen rambled on as Treel could hear Corra and D having a conversation in the background.
“Yes, I and my team are already assigned to the mission.”
Treel and his team had just finished some familiarization training with the Dread Guard Battalion at the newly built Fort Hellas, and they were set to leave in roughly three hours to go and deal with these Sarasskar.
“Oh okay, well thats great pal, so hey, before I let you go though, I got a question about these peaches…”
Treel closed the link and crawled back into bed.
The arrival of Treel’s vessel was a welcome site. He had started to think he’d have to handle this himself. And while he could deal with the Saraaskar himself, it would be easier and more fun with assistance.
The Atonement carried Treel, 6 of his commandos, 2 Sergeants from Rapid Response Company Xesh, who were off duty and ‘bored’ and Kaycee the combat pilot security droid.
Treel sent a single comms ping, signalling their complement, armament and that they were ready to proceed.
He had heard stories about the Ventressian Quaesters tactics from Karracca and Kalen and was looking forward to seeing him and his friends in action.
When Treel only saw a single ship and single TIE bomber at the rendevous he assumed they would be waiting for more forces to arrive.
He yawned and placed his little boots up on hd cockpit dash and reclined his seat, figuring he could catch a little nap before they set off.
Tress'kar stood in what served as his office aboard the station. Here, he commanded his crew with an iron fist. Nothing happened in this sector without him finding out. However, his crew’s benefactors had been troublingly silent as of late. It may be time to find a new employer.
“Sssir,” one of his lieutenants called over to him. “sssomeone hass is requessting an audience with you. He clainmss to be from Plagueiss.” Suddenly, the station began to shake.
“Treel,” Blackhawk commanded “Have your men destroy any docking points on the station. Have your boarding crews ready to make entry after. They have a Baleen class somewhere. Try not to destroy it when it shows up, but do not allow it’s crew to intervene in this operation.”
The Executive Decision lined up to unleash a barrage of ion canon fire.
“Affirmative. I reccomend inserting my team at the secondary landing bay on the starboard side of the station.”
Treel closed the audio transmission but left channel open, and flicked on the heavily modified YT-2000s intercom.
“Assault team standby at the at the entry ramp, we will be landing momentarily. Remain mindful that were are here for the Sarasskar, not any civilian traders or customers.” He closed the intercom and turned to Kaycee who had recently purchased from Kalen.
“Land us and standby for a hot extractions Kaycee.”
“I’d he delighted to sir. Shall I remotely operate the weapons and cover your infiltration aswell?” The always pleasant KX series security droid replied as he took over the controls.
Treel slung his comically large(in comparison to his size) carbine repeating rifle and made for the rear of the cockpit.
“Our gunnery crews will remain here, just be ready to go when we return.”
Tress’kar was about to leave the office for his meeting when a light began blinking on his console. He checked the notification. The Geirskogul had just dropped out of hyperspace.
“Ah, Furiosss…” he breathed to himself, recognizing the steadily approaching vessel.
The leader of the Saraask’ar wasn’t entirely aware of the hierarchy surrounding his employers, but he knew for a fact that whoever was requesting an audience, the Proconsul was of higher priority. He knew there was someone above, but not anyone who would actually appear in person. The Epicanthix was the lead Plagueian as far as he was concerned. He opened a comms channel and seconds later the towering holographic visage formed in front of his desk.
“Tress’kar,” the Sith greeted curtly.
“Lord Morega,” the Trandoshan responded, nodding in deference.
Furios hesitated a moment before continuing. His expression was stern and subdued, devoid of his usual relaxed and twisted humor. It was the face he wore when the stakes were absolute.
“How many points am I worth?” he finally asked.
“My lord?” The leader of the Saraask’ar couldn’t hide his surprise.
“How many?” he pressed.
Tress’kar furrowed his brow in thought. He’d seen this man in action for years. He’d followed him into slave raids, skirmishes, battles, wars, even seen his fights at the Sand Pit, fights against his fellow slavers. The Plagueian had never shown even the slightest shred of fear, weakness, incompetence, or even moderation in combat. If anything, the being standing before him on the holo put the ‘blood’ in ‘bloodsport’ as a matter of principle. The slaver could say without a shadow of a doubt that the Sith was worth more than any Trandoshan he’d ever known could possibly have. He also knew that such a question, asked in such a way, implied something that tied his stomach in a knot.
“I couldn’t possssibly measure,” he answered, the conclusion feeling insufficient somehow. “Only the Ssscorekeeper knowsss.”
Furios mulled the reply over for a moment, selecting his next words. “The Saraask’ar are no longer needed, but you know too much and must be eliminated.”
Tress’kar was taken aback. He had felt that something was off, but elimination? That felt severe, even in the eyes of the leader of a group that captured slaves for a living. He was about to argue, but the Proconsul cut him off.
“You can take to open space and try to escape, where you will be gunned down by the Geirskogul and die suffocating in the vacuum,” Furios offered. “Or you can hole up in Farport and make me come to you, where you and your crew can have a chance at those immeasurable points.”
The Epicanthix paused before driving the point home. “To my understanding, the Scorekeeper would prefer the latter,” he stated before deactivating the comms, leaving Tress’kar alone in an office that suddenly felt entirely too small.
Seconds later the Atonement swept in and unloaded a full fusilade from its weapons systems. All of it was aimed at the primary deflector projectors of the Baas class station.
“A large Bulk Freighter has just exited hyperspace nearby.” Kaycee reported over the intercom as the Ugnaught gunners began suppressing any of the stations weapons emplacements.
Colonel Treel tapped his ear and replied, “Understood, remain on course for a combat landing at the station Kaycee. Forward a request to the Executive Decision to have them vector half of Dominion Flight to execute a search and seizure of the freighter.”
Treel was reasonably sure that one of the senior operations officers on the new flagship was likely already doing what Treel was suggesting, but he’d rather be safe than sorry.
“Copy that. Standby for landing approach? Touch down in approximately 60 seconds.” Kaycee’s cheery sing song tones came through the comm.
Treel turned to his team which included himself, 5 Ugnaught Commando’s, and the 3 ‘off-duty’ operators from the newly re-roled Dread Guard SpecOps Battalion.
“You 3 know this place, take point, we will cover flank and rear security as we move towards the reactor and computer control decks” Treel said as they all heard and felt the YT-2000s retro landing thrusters engage.
“For the Dread Lord!” Said one of the male human Sergeants who had been a Plagueian Ravager prior to his emancipation.
“Sir, request incoming.” Blackhawk glanced at it, quickly taking in the important bit. “Make it happen. Send the Wraith to back them up.” Ordering his own bomber into action was superfluous. Tazi would already be heading to the hangar if she wasn’t already there. Sure enough, the TIE Bomber streaked out moments later.
“Bring us in close. I’m going aboard the station. Once I get clear of the ship secure the system.” He left the bridge, heading for the nearest hangar.