Retaliation

High Prophet Crozeus

In the space above Kuat, a convoy many kilometers long waited to depart. To anyone not involved on the mission, it consisted mainly of large trade frigates and smaller corvettes. In their midst, huge hulking metal beasts that were Star Destroyers, though no longer in traditional Imperial grey, instead being used as massive transport ships, filled with cargo vital for Cerea and the other frontier worlds of the Eternal Empire.

At least, that was the impression they were trying to create. In reality the 'dormant' Star Destroyers were fully active vessels of various Moff Defense Fleets, transferred temporarily to Crozeus' mission. Each of the frigates were unmanned except by droids and had nothing in them. They were also very old and would not be a great loss if they were destroyed, same went for the Corvettes.

Around the convoy many smaller, hyperspace worthy craft darted. High Prophet, Sith Researcher and Moff of Cerea Darth Crozeus sat in the pilot's seat of his own craft, The Masar's Revenge. He flicked a comm channel and called out.

"Leader, standing by. Call in."

The other Sith with him on the mission were in positions similar to his own. They would wait until their enemy attacked the 'defenseless convoy' and then they would strike.
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Major General Celestial

A thought passed through Celestials head as he buckled the seatbelt in the small cockpit of his own personal fighter. Why do I do this? The seat was cramped and Celestial tryed finding an alternative position to the uncomfortable crook he found himself in.

The commlink in front of him made the strange beeping sound that was familiar to Celestial, and a few seconds later he heard the voice of his former apprentice, Darth Crozeus come through.

"Number 3 ready."
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Dark Patron: Darth Revan

High Mage Serratus

Serratus was in his zone. There were two things he had always been able to do; breathe and kill. And he and the Space Dragon had killed many an adversary together and now they were going for another hunt together. The High Mage heard the buzzing of his friend, the High Prophet, through his comlink.

"Number 2, ready and waiting."
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If you see dreadlocks and a staff coming towards you very rapidly, you're in trouble.

Supreme Commander Alor

"This is four." Came a comm call from apparently nowhere. Admiral Jarik Sol sat on the bridge of the cloaked Venator, a personal craft and upgrade, and independent from Military Control. He had asked the Supreme Commander what the latest actions updates were, and had decided to tag along on this one. Since the Military was unwilling to give more of its craft to a task that was supposed to be completed by the MDF's, Jarik created a viable compromise.

A long series of beeps and static sounded over the comms as the Venator's encryption powerhouse secured the lines going in and out of it. "Flight. Four. We are secure. Call out secure when set." Jarik said, asking for each of the flight members to confirm the secure channel on their own devices HUD. While the Military wasn't technically present here, he was an Admiral as well as a Mandalorian. Fighting was his area of expertise and his life.
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Once known as Darth Marix

Darth Thrax

"Five is ready." The low growl of Darth Thrax's voice could be heard quite clearly through the communication system. It had been a while since he had been in his own personal ship The Iridonian Pride and it was also the first time in a long time that he had actually felt comfortable. He had been under the pressure of immediately taking on a new apprentice right before he had knighted his brother Iyezo, now Darth Rachk, but maybe this would help clear his mind better.
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High Prophet Crozeus

"Jolly good. Four, at present you are the largest threat to any enemies, so make sure you keep a screen close to you when you come out of your cloak. Five, three, when they come, work together to draw their fighters away from the target. Two, you're with me."

Crozeus keyed the comm channel to address the whole convoy.

"Prepare to jump in five. Four. Three. Two. One."

As a single entity the immense convoy accelerated rapidly, finally shooting forth into hyperspace. The High Prophet relaxed as he looked into the never-ending blue tunnel stretching out before him, as it always brought about a great sense of calm in him. For some time he stared literally into space as the convoy traversed the space between Kuat and Cerea at the speed of light.

At the same time they left, thanks to relativity, they arrived on the outskirts of Cerea. To many who had not seen the planet in some time, or only on older holovids, it would be a nasty shock. The surface was scarred from constant warfare over the past few years. Smoke from massive explosions filled the atmosphere and the massive Insider Citadels looked black from bomb raids. Above it, battered vessels limped about on their patrol routes, having not seen proper repair after confrontation with the rebels.

Crozeus didn't like to admit it, but he was facing a far worse situation than he led on. He was fighting a war he could not win by himself. Like moths to a flame the rebels were drawn to his convoy. A blindingly bright beam of blue light lanced from nowhere and hit one of the Star Destroyers on patrol. Its shields had been crippled from past fights and could not hold - it was ripped apart, thousands of Imperial lives and Imperial credits twinkling away in front of the sun.

"One, sixteen. What was that?" Came the clipped accent of the captain commanding Aequitas' Star Destroyer.

"Sixteen, one. Some kind of Devestator weapon. It doesn't fire very often, only at the beginning of attacks."

Once again he set his frequency to the Imperial general. "All units, prepare for immediate engagement. Shields up, man your weapons. Cerean fleet, address and support."

Clicks of acknowledgment came his way, and moments later the rebel fleet emerged from hyperspace. It seemed that no matter how many were destroyed, it only got bigger each time he saw it. Screaming their fury, TIE fighters boiled from the hangars of the Star Destroyers and the enemy craft faltered in their advance.

Towards the rear, but in the centre of the convoy, The Gravity Hammer's gravity well generators started up with a deep thrumming sound, accompanied by the higher whine of the missile disruption field. Fighters covered the Interdictor, protecting it as the rebels would surely target it when they realised they could not escape.

However for now they advanced as usual. At the head of their fleet was a sleek blue cruiser. It spat several missiles towards the convoy which span off course thanks to the disruption field, but a few still hit Imperial craft, such was the volume of ships in the convoy. Crozeus aimed the Revenge at it and clicked a switch on his ship's computer to switch his main gun to a laser tag. He then fired at the cruiser, looking at the display to ensure he was successful before switching back.

The other Imperial ships were immediately notified of the target. Ordinarily, they would focus their fire on it, but in this case they were warned not to shoot at it with the intention to destroy it. Crozeus commed his wing.

"Two, lets go. Three, five, you know what to do."

Enemy fighters swarmed towards the Sith craft, and TIEs began to do battle with them.

"Wipe 'em all out," the High Prophet said, as his ship and that of his allies were sucked into the maelstrom that turned organised formations into hectic dogfights.
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Supreme Commander Alor

"Launch the drones." Jarik ordered on the Venator. Drones were expendable, and therefor he was more inclined to leaving his ship cloaked if no pilots needed to find their way back on board.

Upgraded from the original Tri-Fighter Droids, these versions were armed with six laser cannons, and a quad cannon in the center. It still held a complement of seeker missiles, which proved formidable to unshielded craft. A flood ran out from the ventral hangar, swarming around the craft. Half stayed behind to create a shield beneath the cloak, while the other half sped out at random intervals into the fray around them.
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Once known as Darth Marix

High Mage Serratus

Serratus and the Space Dragon did their best to keep at the Masar's Revenge's side but once or twice were drawn away into dogfights with one or more enemy combatants. They always came out on top but the Space Dragon had taken a nasty hit to one of its wings. It wouldn't cause any lasting damage on its own but a strong enough strike would send it flying into the blackness of space.

"Two, one. I've been hit on the wing, no serious damage but possibility of further damage. How long until our destination?"
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If you see dreadlocks and a staff coming towards you very rapidly, you're in trouble.

High Prophet Crozeus

The High Prophet vapourised an enemy XJ8 X-Wing with the two beam cannons mounted over his canopy when Serratus' message came through.

"Understood two. There's the bugger, just ahead of us. It's the trip back home that worries me. Three, five, do us a favour and try and draw their fighters away from us."

Thrax and Celestial complied, scything through the enemy fighters like hot knives through butter. Many were destroyed and it gave Serratus and Crozeus ample time to slip through and over to the cruiser. The point defense weaponry on it trained on them... and then fizzled out. As per orders, a small droid had latched onto it and sent a small EMP blast through the ship, temporarily shorting out all the defenses.

Serratus's and Crozeus' ships docked at opposite sides of the rear of the cruiser. Squads of rebel troopers hurried up to the airlocks, blasters primed and aiming at the doors, waiting for their enemy to come through.

The two Sith had docked at either end of a semi circle like hallway. They would have to fight their way through to the centre to meet up and push to the engine room, where they were to place the transmitter beacon, and then they would have to get away fast before all hell came loose on their necks.

The rebel troops swallowed their fear at Crozeus' end as an aura of unease began to seep into their veins, created by something unknown to them. Then one man broke. Unable to quell down the demons unseen to everyone else but clawing at his mind, he screamed manically and let his blaster rip on full auto, chewing into the airlock door, the walls, floor, ceiling... and fellow troops.

At this, the whole platoon broke, screaming and running, unable to control themselves against the might of the Dark Side. The doors exploded outwards, crushing some of the men, and through it Darth Crozeus examined the carnage he had wrought with mere thoughts. He smiled, then strode over the bodies to the centre. Simultaneously, Serratus would be dealing with his own platoon in his own way.
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High Mage Serratus

While the High Prophet ripped his opponent's minds to shreds, the High Mage was ripping their bodies into a similar condition. Whirling like a dervish, he sliced four of the soldiers into discs before the others got smart, to an extent, and surrounded him. They opened fire and in a sweeping motion, all were shot in the head by their own reflected bolts. Three more thundered down the corridor. Serratus jumped at the one in the middle, kicking him to the ground before slicing his head off with his lightsaber. He sheathed his lightsaber as he sensed the other two sneaking up behind him, then drew his hunting knives. Before the two rebels could so much as scream, they were on the grounds, blood gushing from the long and thin, but deep wounds on their necks.

Serratus cleaned his hunting knives on the sleeves of a rebel's jumper and resheathed them. He took his Cycler Rifle from his back and started to make his way swiftly up the corridor.
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If you see dreadlocks and a staff coming towards you very rapidly, you're in trouble.

High Prophet Crozeus

"Good to see you, High Mage," Crozeus smiled as Serratus dropped a pair of feeling rebels with single, high powered shots to the back of their heads. "Shall we proceed?"

The two Order deputies took off at a decent pace through the unfamiliar ship. The exact layout was unfamiliar to them so they had to check every corridor to see if it led down into the engine room. Finally Crozeus saw a sign... oddly, it was in Huttese, and it told them that the engine room was down a flight of stairs to the left. They rounded the corner and instantly flew back behind it as a volley of blaster fire tore up the wall which they had just been in front of. A heavy repeater cannon had been set up down the corridor and would rip them apart. Worse still, there was no other way to the engine room.

Crozeus frowned, peeking out around the corner for a second to check the situation - he was promptly shot to pieces, or at least he would have been if he didn't withdraw his head just in time. He looked to Serratus and shrugged, patting the beacon attached to his belt as he did so.

"Any suggestions?"
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High Mage Serratus

Serratus nodded.

"Yes."

Serratus drew his lightsaber and held his Cycler Rifle at his side. He use the Force to get a feel for the rough location of the cannon and then started calculating. Serratus was by no means an expert mathematician but one doesn't become High Mage without a knack for quickly adding, subtracting, multiplying and dividing. Judging the angles with extreme care, Serratus levitated his lightsaber out past the cannon. Due to the lightsaber's compact size and lack of life-signs, the cannon did not react as it had to Crozeus's head, full of electricity and a pulse. Holding his Cycler Rifle with one hand, a difficult feat, Serratus started spinning the lightsaber rapidly with the Force. The High Mage squeezed the trigger of his Rifle, the bolt bounced off his lightsaber and then struck one of the power chords of the cannon. The heavy-duty gun died instantly.

Being careful, in case it had backup power, Serratus stuck his hand out then rapidly drew it back. The gun was gone. He called back his lightsaber and continued to make his way through the ship, the High Prophet by his side.
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If you see dreadlocks and a staff coming towards you very rapidly, you're in trouble.

Major General Celestial

The eager feeling of a worthy fight held onto Celestial's expressions. He was fully aware now of the situation, and had to continue diverting the fighters for the mission to be successful.

A swift gust shook Celestial's ship as three fighters closed in on his position. The glowing sun reverberated off of their silvery wings as the made an attempt to catch up with him.

Celestial made a speedy barrel roll to the left, and done a slight backflip with the ship as to get behind one of the fighters that trailed him. He quickly shot one of them down, yet the other two positioned themselves to lock onto Celestial. A sense of peril crossed over him as he knew the pilots of the fighters were not normal.

"Thrax, do you think you could help? Two bogeys are trailing me."
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Dark Patron: Darth Revan

High Prophet Crozeus

"Impressive," the High Prophet had said as the High Mage had dispatched the turret with excellent skill. They passed through several patrols, finally arriving outside the engine room. It was hot, and sweat shone on both their skin. The door was locked tight but some pressure with the Force was all it needed and soon enough they were through. A single blaster shot pinged into the wall behind them, and the Sith looked at a group of cowering engineers, one of them holding a small service pistol in a quivering hand.

These men did not know anything about what they were fighting. All they were were simple engineers, doing what they believed was right to help those who fought the Empire. They probably didn't even know what a Sith was, to them the two men who faced them now were like superheroes. Men who had carved a bloody swathe through heavy defense positions, annihilated over half the crew. Outside, the surprise attack was working. The Rebel fleet was being ripped apart, as they had turned around and attempted feebly to escape, only to be thrown into confusion as they found they could not.

Inside, High Mage and High Prophet slaughtered the engineers. They trampled over the broken corpses to plant the beacon, and a few minutes later the Masar's Revenge and the Space Dragon flew, or in the case of the Dragon, limped, away from the cruiser. Crozeus gave the command for The Gravity Hammer to loosen it's leash for one moment, and sure enough the cruiser jumped to hyperspace as fast as it could. A few other Rebel craft escaped, however the Hammer's gravity wells were back on and the rest were left to be destroyed without mercy.

On the surface, Imperial troops publicly executed over three thousand Cerean rebels, to cheers and live news holos of the battle that was finally subsiding over their heads.
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High Mage Serratus

A few minutes later, Crozeus and Serratus docked in Jarik's Venator to prepare for the next part of the plan. The High Mage and the High Prophet walked together to the briefing room, where Colonel General Celestial, Private Thrax and Jarik Sol were waiting. Serratus acknowledged them with a tip of his flight helmet and a "Gentlemen." before joining them and turning to face the Sith Priest who had put together the whole plot.

"What next, High Prophet?"
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If you see dreadlocks and a staff coming towards you very rapidly, you're in trouble.

High Prophet Crozeus

Crozeus turned to the large projector on the screen and began to record a message while the other Sith conversed. His report to the Moff's Council was soon finished and he turned back soon enough. He then spoke to several different people on his com-link, before the projector beamed up a rather charming image of where they were right this minute. A small red dot bleeped near to the green dot which showed their current location, orbiting Cerea.

"This is the location of the beacon Serratus and I placed on the raider's lead ship," Crozeus began, nodding his head to the High Mage. "As you can see it is currently orbiting the planet of Riflor. So that's where we're going. However, for now we are only going to take the Venator, and we are going to remain cloaked. We will scout it out, see what we can do, and then call in the heavies. Any questions?"

Crozeus looked at each of them to see if they had anything to say. He valued their consul immensely.

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