[Code: Dread] Official Fiction

(Ronovi Tavisaen) #1

Week 1

The Pinnacle - Level 195
Aliso City
37 ABY

Back at her desk, Ronovi was getting the latest breakdown of clan activity before the upcoming onslaught. TuQ’uan sat across from her, eyeing the bottle of Whyren’s Reserve which contents were slowly but surely depleting throughout the meeting. Behind him stood Cyvarria Ranin, Admiral of the Ascendant Fleet, and Owen Serrus, Captain of the Ascendancy. Both of them still wore battle scars from the explosion during the siege of the Thuvis Shipyards, Serrus specifically wearing an eyepatch as his left eye attempted to recover its shape and vision.

The four were going over the latest assets of the Ascendant Fleet and deciding where to send them in this latest skirmish. Kel Zar’s fleet could be handled by Khryso and a handful of Besh Task Force squadrons - nothing heavy needed to be there to take that on. However, the Dread Lord knew full well of other splinter cells from the Collective patrolling the Unknown Regions. Therefore, they had to be mindful of their allotment.

“The Wrath can head a few squadrons to the north of the system,” TuQ’uan opined. “I can command that. As for the Termagant, its ships can be allocated to multiple areas. There are some gravity wells we can draw ships to, to trap them and keep them from launching into hyperspace.”

“I’d be careful,” warned Ranin. “Our ships are equally vulnerable.”

“What about the Ascendancy?” Serrus asked. “Does she stay home?”

“She’ll maintain a moderate defensive line near the Anchorage, yes,” Ronovi replied. “We don’t want to send every ship we have out. That leaves us open for attack if we’ve missed anybody.”

TuQ’uan’s eyes crinkled in a smile above his respirator. “But we’re certainly going to clean them up in this city, aren’t we?”

Ronovi nodded simply. Wrathus and Tahiri had taken charge of the “enforcement” prong of the campaign - as in, they and others who had decided not to fly out for battle would take out enemies in Aliso City itself. Anyone who questioned the planet’s governance would be taken in and interrogated; given many Plagueians’ reputations for torture, the Epicanthix knew that it would not be pretty.

Feeling comfortable with the set-up, she stood up and beckoned TuQ’uan, Ranin, and Serrus to leave. “Enough chatting for now. You have ships to man and pilots to command. Varick, Ranin, Serrus - I’m counting on you.”

Once they were gone, Ronovi sat back down, picking up the whiskey bottle and draining it of its innards. As soon as the room began to tilt, she knew she was finally where she wanted to be mentally.

Let’s murder some Collective scum.

(Ronovi Tavisaen) #2

Week 2

CR90 Corvette Respite
Unknown Regions - Open Space
37 ABY

“Get me connected to Ordam!” Kel Zar snarled, as she moved the controls of her ship forward, lunging into the fray.

The Ascendant Fleet’s cronies had already done quite a bit of damage on her smattering of fleets, but the Zabrak was not ready to forfeit yet. In fact, in her declaration for war, she had hoped that Plagueis would take the bait - and taken the bait they had, shooting bolt after bolt at her crew. As she watched an ally’s ship careen to the right in flames, Kel Zar now knew were reinforcements were necessary. The question, in the end, was whether or not they were ready.

Wiping a patch of sweat from one of her lower horns, the Collective operative leaned back in her chair, breathing heavily. One would think that simply piloting a ship wouldn’t be a work-out, but Plagueis was, admittedly, formidable. Tavisaen, the newest Dread Lord, certainly knew how to be aggressive. The trick was, however, resilience. Would she have that?

Kel Zar tried to control her respiration. In through her nose, out through her mouth. Nearby, another Collective ship became subject to inferno. She was ready to give up before she heard a familiar voice radiating from the control panel.

“This is Thusak. Did you get yourself in trouble again, Zar?”

All at once, Kel Zar’s sighs were tinged with relief. Leave it to a Clawdite to serve as proper back-up.

“Good to hear from you, Delat,” said Kel Zar. “Mind lending me a hand?”

Eviscerater, Mk. 3
Unknown Regions - Aliso Space
Similar time

Abadeer Taasii was making mincemeat of the enemy forces. He felt most comfortable in a smaller vessel, compared to the Wrath back when he was Proconsul, so this worked beautifully. He watched as the fireworks boomed in front of his eyes, Collective ships ripped apart by the onslaught of the Ascendant Fleet.


The Togruta nodded toward his copilot, a scrawny Human member of the Willing, before leaning back into the controls. A few squeezes of the trigger, and he was able to knock down several starfighters that were allegiant to the Collective. Still, however, the numbers seemed to be the same. Abadeer frowned. At this point, he would have figured he’d see a depletion in ships, but as it stood right now, every time a fighter was knocked down, a new one seemed to take its place. His upper lip curled into a sneer, accepting the challenge, and the former Wrath forced his Firespray directly into the fray, listening to the static break up to reveal the interjections of his fellow Plagueians:

“Task Force Besh, this is Whuloc. I’m under heavy fire on the Wraith. Repeat, under heavy fire. Back-up on star flank in - ”

Silent Scream here. We’re taking a barrage here. The kriff are these ships coming from?”

“Ascendant Fleet, this is Vaeril Aeraeth. I came to visit Aliso, but it seems you’re all a bit busy? Wasn’t expecting this - could I get a little support with - ”

That last intercepted call confused Abadeer. Who was Aeraeth? A new recruit? A potentially interested ally? Whatever the case, he had to check in.

He turned to his copilot with a cold, stoic smile. The chill was evident in both his face and in the cockpit.

“Full throttle, friend. This ain’t gonna be as easy as we thought.”