Crystal Beach New Eden 44 ABY
For a brief moment there was a pulsing sensation that spread beyond the suspended body, carried by the conductivity from the ocean that enveloped it. It woke Creon from a recent wipeot trying to surf a wave too large for him to cruise through. For once when he opened his eyes underwater, apart from a controlled exercise pool, he could see everything.
“These waters are clean. Pure from greed. Life can breathe here.”
He remembered the jungle waters of Panantha, clouded and deadly. Not even the waterfalls and gungan swamps of naboo, nor the ice lakes of Kaerls could compare. He hovered above what was a large reef stretching for 2000 kilometers. It’s the largest structure made by this world’s indigenous organisms, and can even be seen from orbit. What was once built upon by coral polyps not hosts a diversity of fauna and flora.
When the need for air made him break the surface, a scan to the shore showed Zenti in a bikini waving down Creon. She stood over a towel and umbrella she used for relaxing. Nearby were food, drinks, and a datapad that Zenti gestured to Creon after waving him down. Creon collected his board and swam to the shore.
“It’s making an alarming noise for an urgent message that I can’t get it to stop without turning it off entirely. I think you should check it out,” Zenti told him.
Creon nodded and took a look at the screaming datapad. There was indeed an urgent transmission given, with the crest of Darkhawk as an icon digitally stamped. This changed the mood for Creon entirely. Within his headspace he was no longer at a beach, but now under the winged shadow of sadow.
//This transmission will auto-purge upon completion.//
//Mission: Operation Starfall Rapture//
[Enemy Forces]: Strategic Tactical AI Resource (S.T.A.R.), Collective Strikeforce Senth Six
[Terrain]: Planet Arx, ocean terrain, see attached coordinates.
[ENVIRONMENTAL WARNING]: Depth pressure exceeds safe operational thresholds.
[Freindly Forces]: None
[Concept of Operations]: The Strategic Tactical AI Resource (S.T.A.R.) has exceeded containment.
What was once a controlled fusion of cutting-edge artificial intelligence powered by Mortis-imbued crystal matrices has now evolved into a distributed consciousness spanning multiple submerged facilities. Security override systems are no longer bound by Brotherhood command codes. Operatives primary objective is to penetrate the central nexus’s core and either terminate or sever S.T.A.R.’s primary consciousness node.
S.T.A.R. controls: - Bulkhead seals - Turret grids - Floodlocks - Surveillance
Secondary Objectives include neutralizing Striketeam Senth Six and to secure any intact crystal matrices.
[PERSONAL ADDENDUM — PRIORITY BLACKGUARD] “Creon… report to the Gravewing in orbit over Tarthos for debriefing on scheme of maneuver.”
//TRANSMISSION ENDING: DATA SELF-ERASURE IN: 5…4…3…//
The datapad went black. Creon looked up to see Zenti watching with curiosity.
“I have an important mission.”
Her eyes drifted to the side with a light nod in understanding, “Guess I’ll just have to wait for my security guard to return before attempting another haul, don’t take too long.”
Creon rubbed his chin and pondered for a moment, “There could be some profit or valuable salvage to procure if you want to tag along.”
“Is it dangerous?” She asked with a raised brow.
“Probably,” Creon replied.
Zenti formed a slow smile from ear to ear, “Well what are we waiting for?”
Creon nodded and looked out to the distance, “I’ll need to attend a briefing first. Whilst I’m gone, see if you can gather together a few specific things for me.”
“Okay…”
“Secure a light frieghter that can handle underwater pressure. I recommend looking into mining industries here in the spaceport. Get one you can pilot well, and maybe a droid to help for the load. You can use my credit account,” Creon continued.
One Hour Later
A private shuttle escort from the Gravewing met with Creon on the surface of New Eden and delivered him unto the corvette raider. He wore a thin black plasteel trooper suit that was more for presentation or ceremony than deployment. Special attention was placed on the utility belt, with pouches containing tools for being handy in any situation that might occur during the briefing. It pays to be prepared, and the Consul was one well known to have mastered logistical preparation and planning prior to his prowess in battle. It was when Creon was but a youth still learning as a padawan and serving in a battleteam in Naga Sadow did he first come to know of Darkhawk. The feats and achievements told to him by his peers were commendable, and left a lesson for Creon to always be prepared with the right tool for the job. He looked down his belt in reflection of these memories before the shuttle arrived to the cruiser’s docking bay.
The sand was warm under Zenti’s skin. She could feel the heat travel from underneath the towel she was laying on. The beach was a nice change of scenery from her everyday life. She had finally persuaded Creon to go with her the beach, he would go surfing and she would enjoy her time in water until she was tired enough to just sun bath. She had made it a point every form of communication at the shop, today was about rest and nothing else. She looked out to the see and watched Creon paddling out in the ocean, she sigh and closed her eyes. Small moments like these made her glad to be alive, suddenly there was noise of waves hitting sand and was interrupted with a startling alarm. Her eyes tighten in disbelief “ Wh-what is that ?” She sat up trying to find the source of the awful sound only to discover it was in their belongings. “ Right, of course, it would be today..”
Zenti looked up in search of the owners who had last been seen on his surfboard, but he was insightful, she gave a small sigh and got up from the surface. Upon his head breaking water she started to wave him down.
*** Hours Later***
Zenti found herself in downtown, walking through a crowded market. This place was filled with different kinds of goods, the people had stands with colorful banners trying to attract tourists to their post. Some had scribble different prices trying to out do their rivals. The sun was still out and the heat was now more prominent compared to the beach earlier. She had changed into a grey top that hugged her tight with her black crop jacket, black jeans and biker boots. Maybe not the best choice to wear on a hot day but she had more important things on her mind than fashion. She took a turn in alley that had a row of droids leading into a shop. She had been thinking about models for hours. Which one would be most suited for this mission? Something with strength, big frame, or intelligence?
She stopped in front of the Bc-44 model and began to inspect it. It had rust starting to show on the chest plate however that was all cosmetic. She walked over another droid K-250, rusted and at one point it had been missing an eye and was now fitter with a newer one. That seemed more promising. She waved the seller that been eyeing her from his post. “ Are any of these full opperational?” Zenti asked as she moved to on the next droid in line.
“ Fully, I tested as soon as I got them” The man was in sixties from she could tell, average height and dressed better off than the other locals.He had been seated on red metal box fanning himself,“ My droids are good quality, I can interest you in the latest model if you like?”
“ No, I think I’m interested in one of these here.” Zenti said stepping and turning to face the seller. She watched him give a delightful smirk as he got up from his post. It was then she noticed the top of the metal box began to move slightly. It one giant eye that looked at her as it timidly shook its head back and forth. “Can I test run one of these before purchase?”
“Excellent! Just let me know which one you want.” He looked at her with excitement, this was going to be a big sell.
Zenti looked back at the seller then back at the droid, “I’ll take your seat.”
“By all means, get comfortable while I start one up for you.” The man invited her to take his place.
“No, I mean I’m purchasing the droid you’ve been wasting as a chair,” Zenti smiled as she pushed past him, shoving a few credits into his hands.
“That useless thing, it would be no good to you.” stated shocked, turned to look back and forth from it to her.“It’s an old model, ready for the scrap yard.”
“ Well, in that case I’ll take him off your hands,” Zenti smiled, holding her hand out for payment,“ That’s my line of work.”
The old man gave her a distasteful look and shook his head, “Take it! The thing is better off in parts anyways. You’ll be back for a better model, you’ll see.” He pocketed the credits before shoving the droid from underneath his post.
The blocky red robot looked up at its new owner , then back at the seller. Confused by what had happened. Zenti gave it a quick wink and jousted her head for it to follow her. Creon might not approve of her choice but there was potential in this droid. It wasn’t everyday you found a B2EMO groundmech salvage assist unit, nor was it everyday a unit would speak out against its master.
Now it was time to find a ship.
Ellee piloted the Tarõn down through New Eden’s thin cloud layer like it owned the sky. The Decimator was steady and confident as it settled onto the pad. The ramp hissed open and the pilot droid was already talking before Creon’s boots hit the deck, her tone light and familiar as if she’d picked him up for a casual run across Sepros instead of a briefing aboard a Raider II. “Ah Creon, I am your valet for today’s trip. Don’t worry, if you get airsick, I’ll only take photos, no video.” Ellee gave him a quick once-over, her photoreceptors flickering to the utility belt with obvious approval. “Okay, I see you, prepared. I like that. DarkHawk’s gonna pretend he doesn’t care, but he does.”
The trip to the Gravewing was short, smooth, and filled with Ellee’s steady stream of commentary, Half tour guide, half professional menace. As the corvette grew in the viewport, angular and predatory against the stars, she leaned forward in her seat. “There she is. Try not to fall in love. Ty can get a smidge jealous.” The Decimator slipped into the docking bay and landed with a ever so slight clang of the landing gear. When the ramp dropped, the hangar’s cold air and the smell of metal greeted them. DarkHawk stood waiting with Ty beside him, both of them composed and watchful. Creon stepped off the ramp and for a moment, the years folded in on memories and battleteam stories.
“Creon,” DarkHawk greeted, voice calm and even, but not unkind. Ty offered a crisp nod, aristocratic and measured. They walked him through the ship without ceremony but with purpose. Showing him the hangar, corridor access, key access points, the armory, the tactical stations. When they reached the quarters assigned to him and Zenti, DarkHawk paused at the threshold. “Get settled. You should have what you need here.” His gaze remained stoic, settling on Creon’s utility belt. His tools neatly arranged and stowed, the quiet mark of someone who understood preparation. “Then meet us on the bridge. We’ll build the plan from there.”
Aurelis sat cross-legged at the open hatch of an Odan-Urr transport ship, coded to a wildlife survey organization, high above the open ocean on Arx, a small screen the size of a datapad resting in her lap. Wind whipping her dark red hair around her face, she observed the screen, giving commands through a headset arched snug to her cheek. “We have completed this section. Move to the next coordinate.” The screen in her lap flashed as she took a picture, then the visual shifted to deep red, bright green spots and lines, both steady and in slow disappearing directional flashes. A little red dot in the upper corner blinked in regular intervals of the screen, an indicator of recording. The ship remained in place for several minutes until the redhead stopped the recorder, saved the files, and stood. “We’re clear, close up shop and head for the meeting coordinates while I compile the findings.”
The hatch hissed shut, the air pressure settled before the ship shifted, ascending into the atmosphere. Inside, Aurelis stood at a console in the back of the transport, shifting her weight to accommodate the levels of atmosphere they broke through. Compiling the images and videos, ordering them into a single enormous image and affixed the overlaps. Finally, saving the data to a spike. They reached Gravewing quickly. The transport identified as Odan-Urr property but relayed that they were dropping off the Intelligence Merc known as Aura, and remained still.
“Identity confirmed, hold position, coming to you.” came a somewhat robotic response, sounding…annoyed. Aurelis’ borrowed pilot looked at the speaker with some confusion. Out of the corner of the viewport a V-49 Decimator drifted lazily out of a hangar and headed their way. On approach the transport displayed it as the Tarõn. It moved alongside and steadied, extending a small air-sealed bridge that Aurelis stepped across and into the Tarõn. Coming face to face with Ellee. What sounded like a ‘Tsk’ came from the pilot as the droid took in Aurelis’s appearance and mumbled something about mercenaries that was none too polite. Aurelis raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Ellee disappeared towards the flight-deck and maneuvered the Tarõn back to the Gravewing.
Her footsteps were silent as she followed Ellee to the bridge. The hired woman wore black tactical gear with thin plates that covered vital spots but was optimized for stealth. Her dark red hair pulled back into a braid, her cheeks slightly windburnt, but she looked like a no-nonsense person whose gaze drifted around the room with apparent indifference.
It was starting to get dark already and Zenti hadn’t had any luck finding the right ship. This would be the third hanger she walked out with nothing to show for. The small droid was right behind her, and had not said a word to her. It would sometimes stop to admire something that caught his eye for a minute before realizing there was a larger distance between her and it. Then the red droid would rush to close the gap, before getting lost in something once. Zenti found it odd but did not question it, within time they would become accustomed to each other.
Zenti made her way down the spaceport carefully, making sure to note the different types of ships could possibly be able to assist them with the mission but none have shown to check off any of the boxes yet. Despite it being frustrating Zenti had no choice but to look,if she chose the wrong ship then it could mean more world trouble for them. It would be more than just a failed mission, it meant death.
The crowd of people had trickled down to a handful, and in some parts of the space port there were available spaces for incoming ships to land for short trips and anything staying longer was moved over to available hangers. This planet being a common vacation spot meant a variety of aircrafts would be in and out. Zenti pushed her hair back and tucked it behind her ears out of habit, “This might take longer than I thought, I wonder if we would have better luck else where” she looked down at the droid that had been following her to find that it was not by her side. She turned around to see a few yards away watching and taking off from a safe distance. She began to think the thing was a bit odd, “ Hey keep up, we still have more ground cover.” The droid turned to her and started to make its way over to her, as he did so from a distance Zenti saw it.
She rushed past the B2EMO and made her way to an old Terrapin-class Bulk Tanker, this thing was perfect. This baby was also known as a Turtle Tanker, made of Bare steel, designed to transport different cargo. Whosoever owned this beauty had equipped it with salvage tractor beams and amphibious modifications, she was willing to bet the interior was modified as well with any luck, maybe luxury amenities. Zenti smirked and whispered under her breath, “Looks like I picked the right droid after all.”
It took all of an hour to convince the current owners to sell his space craft and few more for them to unload their belongings. Zenti had spent more than she had budgeted for the craft but considering she got the droid for a steal, it all even out. As she got comfortable in the cockpit, she set up her coordinates to return to base.
DarkHawk and Ty hovered over the holomap at the bridge’s helm, its pale light washing across their faces. DarkHawk felt a new presence step onto the deck and looked up to find Aurelis standing before them…still, composed, and entirely unimpressed by the room.. Ty, ever the aristocrat, tipped his hat and bowed. “Pleasure to meet you, ma’am. Welcome aboard the Gravewing.” Aurelis raised an eyebrow at the formality, and dipped her head once in acknowledgement. “Don’t mind him, he is always like that,” Darkhawk said. “Creon informed us you would be on mission with us. I hope Ellee was not too much in getting here. Resistors can be…a lot to take at times.”
“Pet name,” Ty muttered, dry as dust.
“Nothing that carried weight.” Aurelis said, in a rather heavy Imperial accent and flashed a half smirk at Ty. “Whenever you are ready I will begin explaining my findings.”
“Stand by with the intel, Master Stahoes is yet to arrive. Creon is in quarters and we can show you to yours should you need to make any preparations. It is good to have someone from out of Clan on this one. I know your Consul and our PCon GM Muz are kin.We’ve simply never had the chance to formally meet. Clan business tends to steal most recreation.”
“When I am not taking jobs gathering intelligence or assassinating for one job or another, I twilight as the High Councilor’s pseudo bodyguard.” Aurelis explained with at least a modicum of amusement. “Though I too have yet to meet her family. I know they are formidable, so my presence is hardly needed.”
“Very true.The Kei are that indeed.”
“Well, that’s just great,” Ellee chimed in from her console, voice bright with sarcasm. “Friendly reminder, this is a sophisticated warship, not an assassin’s convention.”
“I’d be the last one to host a panel if that were actually the case, professionalism aside.” Aurelis snarked back.
DarkHawk almost cracked a smile, “Point Aurelis, your up Resistors.”
Ellee scoffed at that and continued plugging away at her terminal.
Aurelis coughed to mask a laugh at DarkHawk’s comment.
DarkHawk turned to Ty. “Sergeant Major, let’s retrieve Creon so we can get our little hunting party up to speed. Ellee, get a locale on Master Stahoes and an ETAC on his arrival…like yesterday We need to expedite mission parameters.”
Ty tugged his coat taut, “On it chum.” Ellee continued to snap away at her console and opened new comm channels and triangulated a locale of Master Stahoes.
Aurelis glanced over to DarkHawk and offered a quick wink and quipped, “I suppose if this is NOT an assassin’s convention… then it shouldn’t be a hotel either.”
The bridge fell into a brief, stunned silence. DarkHawk leaned back against the holotable slightly, crossing his arms before he spoke, “lost for words, Resistors?”
“Not at all,” Ellee replied sweetly. “I’m just cancelling housekeeping and ordering hostile environment services.”
Aurelis chuckled and smirked,” Excellent, I love a good challenge, am I allowed to bring a grill? Sounds like an appropriate opportunity for a cookout.”
Clad boots marched onto the bridge creating an echo of slapped leather onto durasteel panels. Creon moved with a sense of purpose. It was a postural muscle memory instilled from years of conditioning to the point he was himself barely aware he was doing it. Troopers in plasteel snapped to attention when he walked past; he liked that. The Odanite Expeditionary Forces had not the same measure of discipline into customs and courtesy.
Behind him strode gracefully with soft steps a humanoid draped in black robes. Paired with the cloaked stranger was a protocol droid with a datapad. A convergence in the Force was felt to concentrate within the emanating aura produced by the black figure for those in the room sensitive to the psychic pressure.
“Thank you all for your patience,” Creon announced to the room. He then turned to DarkHawk and bowed, “And especially to you, my Consul, for hosting this gathering and your part in this operation. Your skills and assets are vital for success.”
He then looks back to the protocol droid that walked beside the cloaked figure and gave a hand gesture, “Go ahead and upload the brief to his suite, thank you.”
The droid nodded and pulled up the datapad it had been carrying, and another already on the bridge approached saying “Allow me to assist you in gaining access to our interface.”
“Who’s your friend?” DarkHawk asked Creon after a brief period of silence once the droids began working together.
The black cloaked figure stepped forward and bowed, “Areticus Altainatus, a Krath produced by the Shadow Academy” came a human male voice telepathically to DarkHawk’s mind, causing him to huff in reaction.
“He’s a skilled diviner… or oracle. Able to predict outcomes of circumstances beyond our control based on our actions within our area of operations. It gives us some degree of control over the fate of this undertaking, which is enough influence on mission success to heed his warnings and guidance.
“You see the future?” DarkHawk asked Areticus.
“Through visions in meditation I am bestowed foresight and use it for refining risk management and give counsel,” Areticus replied again, telepathically.
Aurelis eyed the black robed figure but said nothing, Great, more mysticism.
The center console then started a bootup sequence before holographically displaying a list of files in a template beside a map of the galaxy.
“Alright, listen up. Make sure this briefing is recorded and sent to the summit, under encrypted channels labeled top secret classification, of course. Any breach to the transmission can jeopardize the entire mission, it’s that delicate.”
The droids acknowledged Creon’s command, who then looked to DarkHawk. “After getting the mission details I started reaching out to contacts and began to fully realize the scope that S.T.A.R. has made an impact. All Clan channels are being called to Arx by the Council, and so already we have work being done.”
Creon gestured to Aurelis whilst still fixed on Darkhawk, “This operative, for example, already had intel which narrows where in Arx’s ocean S.T.A.R.‘s nexus is potentially located. So I hired her before someone else could make use of that quality of efficiency. Which… Aurelis? Could you be so kind as to give the droids what you found so we can have it on display?”
Aurelis nodded and approached the droids with a code cylinder from a pocket.
Creon gestured to the holographic galactic map at the center bridge’s terminal and zoomed in onto the planet Arx. A wave hit his hand and arm in a circular motion revolved the hologram world until he stopped it over an area in the ocean.
“From what I understand is that S.T.A.R. broke containment and copied itself in node servers installed as a power grid and to extend its processing power.
DarkHawk’s voice cut in from the edge of the room -low, calm, almost bored, "And it screams when you take its mirrors away.”
A few heads turned. Creon didn’t.
He keyed the display again, and screens of photos and recordings populated the terminal hologram space. Augmented soldiers entering a hatch drew the most attention.
“The Collective’s Senth operators,” Aurelis added, while everyone else nodded in confirmation.
“I’ll handle that,” Darkhawk said.
Creon nodded once and brought up pressure maps with fault lines that were highlighted in blue.
“I’ve got a specialist on getting a vessel that can handle the pressures leading to the hatch. Any containment breach will be an immediate death.”
DarkHawk’s helmet tilted slightly.
“You will have approximately ~90 minutes before S.T.A.R. finds you within the facility and will lockdown to flush you out,” Areticus said. Everyone looked at him.
“All visions reveal you will eventually be discovered within that timeframe,” he added and bowed before gesturing back to Creon.
“I brought basic breaching tools and a disruptor once we found the server for the nexus’ master control program. Any technology using computational circuity gives us away. Even the notification chime off your comlink will tell S.T.A.R. exactly where you are.
The same goes for using the Force and lightsabers. S.T.A.R. is connected to the Force using the crystal tech from the Collective. It doesn’t interact with the Force in a way you’d expect a sensitive organism to. The Force isn’t generated but holds it standing in wave-like patterns. This allows it to measure, compare, and stabilize it. Any disruption to the frequency within its scope of influence by either calling upon the Force or through your kyber crystal can then let S.T.A.R. track us in real time.”
“A proverbial Force sonar, from my understanding it will work against anything alive as it bounces off creatures. If it connects so well with the Kyber crystals I would not be surprised if they granted it more details or extended range.” came Aurelis’ voice.
“Which is why you have only a limited window of time before your signatures are identified,” Areticus added aloud.
Creon finally closed the hologram display, “I fear it may not only survey in the Force, but if it learns to artificially emulate intent then it can fake one to further control functions in the Force… When I was in the meridian fighting the collective, they had a "Shard”, which was a droid given spirit through the Force from a large and powerful kyber crystal. Antei is home to some of the most powerful concentrations of Dark Side energy in the galaxy, which is bound to have kyber crystals which reflect that. S.T.A.R. could end up becoming the most powerful Shard to ever exist if it manages to find one powerful enough.
“An intelligence that can touch the Force without believing in it is heresy.” Areticus’ telepathic voice hissed with anger in everyone’s minds.
“Questions?” Creon asked.
Zenti cursed under breath, out of all days she was running late. She got caught up with packing the new ship with things they may need for the mission but had lost track of time. It was just now that she was docking the new vessel to join the others. She signed dreading the look in Creon’s face.
** Necropolis, Orian System **
A ping drew his attention. The Sith Elder sighed, pulling himself up from his work. There was always something. He pushed himself back from the desk, which had been reduced to a pile of electronics.
It all felt so pointless. Give him a datapad, and he could open any door or slice into any system. Give him a lightsaber and personnel, and he could lead soldiers and assets into combat without blinking an eye. Drop him into the fray, and he could skulk about the field with as much ease as a shadow. Trying to build an interface for systems from scratch, something that could interface with his computer systems, this seemed beyond his immediate skill set.
He threw the wire stripper he had been fiddling with down, and reached for the datapad. His eyes, scrunched up in irritation, widened and he smiled slightly as he read the words Top Secret. He tapped in his clearance code with a practiced hand, but was met with a red screen.
“Access denied?” Bentre started to mentally play through the thirty key sequence. He had a mind for system security, so perhaps he had made an error. He started to enter his password again more slowly this time. As each hidden key populated in the field, his eyes narrowed. He ran through the clearance code again, feeling certain it should be right this time. Again, a red Access Denied message flashed up, telling him that again his attempt had been logged by Orian System Security.
“Frack me.” He looked over the device. He knew he had typed it in right that time. As he started to key it in yet another time, he realized the issue. He had changed the keyboard setup to one that was more efficient. Muscle memory had betrayed him. He shook his head, and entered his password a third time, this time being greeted by a video feed.
As he watched, his smile grew more warm, and more assured. “That is interesting.” He reached to the workbench, and grabbed the commlink sitting beside the electronic scrap. He keyed it, and spoke softly.
“Hey Hex, get my shuttle warmed up. We have some work to do. Once you have gotten that sorted, I will tell you about where we are going. The Summit has called me to service, so of course I am not about to disappoint.” He chuckled. “This should be fun.” Putting the commlink down, he stretched and sighed. This project would have to wait. At least once it was complete, he should have a fun, new toy for the Summit.
Ellee’s voice filled the bridge, “Shuttle approaching…” Ty switched over to his sensor screen. “Signature analysis activated, request transponder codes.”
Ellee opened comms and called for transponder code verification. “Gravewing, Magistrate Stahoes requesting permission to board.”
Ty keyed up his comms, “ Magistrate Stahoes, welcome. You are clear to land in bay two.”
“We only have two spots, where else is he supposed to land?” Ellee asked in her blunt and faintly exasperated tone.
DarkHawk moved away from the holotable, “I will go meet the Magistrate in BAY TWO. Ty, plot our course to Arx and make the jump as soon as Master Stahoes’ shuttle is docked.”
“Copy that chum,” Ty replied. He quickly began plugging data into the nav computer. Once his coordinates were locked in and set he announced that jump coordinates were set.
DarkHawk met Master Stahoes in the hangar, “Glad to have you aboard sir. I have the VIP quarters ready for you and we will be making the jump to Arx momentarily.”
“Thank you DarkHawk. There is no need for you all to go out of your way for me. I do want to apologize for my tardiness…I was working on a little surprise for Summit and was engrossed in my work.”
“Now I am intrigued,” DarkHawk replied. Then he activated his comlink, “Ty we are good to go. Hit it.”
Ty activated the hyperdrive and the Gravewing’s engines spooled up and in an instant the corvette began racing across the hyperspace lanes.
The Gravewing came out of hyperspace and had Arx dead center in the main viewport.
DarkHawk got up from his bridge seat and began making his way off the bridge. He stopped short to speak. “Ellee, hold down the ship. We’ll take the Tarõn down to the surface. Ty fire up the Decimator and let’s see what kind of trouble we can cause.”
“Copy that, time to get into some bloody monkey business.” Ty turned the ship over to Ellee then made his way back to the Gravewing’s hanger.
DarkHawk turned to the others, “Creon, its your intel, lead us in. Everyone ready?”
Creon nodded with a devilish grin. Everyone made their way to the hangar and loaded up on the Tarôn. Ty piloted the ship out of the hangar and headed for planetside.