Diplomacy First Encounter Above Omwat

[Dimitri Yaroslavov]

Senior Lieutenant Dimitri Sergeievich Yaroslavov leaned back in his chair, boredly sipping his cup of cold oil while looking at the screens inside the main Armoured capsule housing himself and the small crew of 10 Worker drones under him. KIF Mochalivi had made good progress in its expedition thus far. Though, as of yet, all they'd discovered were empty sectors with no signs of life. Perfect for future expansion, but immensely dull to the young commander. Over the course of days, they traveled from one to the next, mining the occasional asteroid using the ship's mining lasers. The Razborka drone occupied the time by humming to himself on the odd occasion, idly checking his weapons, or playing sim games using one of several headsets on board. When on duty, he sat in the bridge, watching the scanners. "Hopefully this next sector will host something more promising."

"I'm sure it will be, Your Excellency." Came the cheerful reply of the his second in command, Petty Officer Vlad Fyoderov, as he flipped the switches that would return them to realspace. Yet, if he'd only known how right he would be, as the Bystryy Class Prospector exited hyperspace, only to find itself face to face with a fleet of ships sitting above a green planet in the distance. Both their eyes could only widen as several approached their small craft.

Dimitri leapt up, nearly knocking his cup over and damaging the table in the process. "Vlad, plot a course to get us out of here if needed." He commanded as the drone offered a salute before doing as ordered. Next, he opened the internal comms. "All crew to battlestations, all crew to battlestations!" Of course, he knew it wouldn't do much good, as the single chain gun mounted near the front would obviously not be enough to stop anything short of small craft. But, all the same, the metallic thudding of drones filled the ship as they awoke from sleep mode and occupied their positions.

"Course set, Your Excellency." Vlad interjected as the Senior Lieutenant nodded before opening the comms in hopes of avoiding the destruction of his ship. After all, while it would be highly unlikely for the crew to be harmed due to where they were located, he didn't want to risk being stranded in unfriendly territory waiting for a rescue that could possibly never come.

With all the preparations complete, Dimitri muttered a silent prayer as he pushed the "All channels" button on the comms. "Это старший лейтенант Дмитрий Сергеевич Ярославов, командир разведывательного судна КИФ «Мочаливи» 9-го Копперовского флота. С кем я разговариваю?" (This is Senior Lieutenant Dmitri Sergeievich Yaroslavov, commander of the KIF Mochalivi reconnaissance vessel of the 9th Copper Fleet. Who am I speaking to?)

 

[Aola Cliyerslan Vilbolra]

The orbit of Omwat was a tell-tale of the void's darkest fears, brought alife through the scattered wounds across each and every hull of the white vessels, most of them marked by orange straps, perhaps hinting to their formation affiliations. In the very center of the fleet that should be about a dozen ships, identified as warships by the heavy armaments mounted on bow and hull alike, while smaller crafts orbited the planet below in patrol routes, independently of the fleet anchored in orbit, around a much larger space station dressed in durasteel and turbolaser batteries. What was once stagnant, upon the transmission sent by the KIF Mochalivi, two of the Thranta-Class Corvettes accelerated, as if acknolwedging the presence of the Copper vessel in the near-orbit.

A series of attempted transmissions followed, as if multiple units performed the exact same ritual of tracking and backtracking signals, while simultaneously adjusting frequency to make themselves readible to the other side. Eventually, a single, directed transmission goes through, with the voice of a female recognizable almost instantly.

"This is Jedi Master Aola Cliyerslan Vilbolra, of the Jedi Order." She introduced herself. "You are within Omwat system, under the Galactic Republic' jurisdiction." she paused.

"Who... are you?" she hesitated.

The Jedi spoke in fluent Galactic Basic, while her ill understanding of the exotic language spoken by Senior Lieutenant Dmitri Sergeievich Yaroslavov evident by her tone.

Meanwhile, the Republic ships continued a restrained approach. Onboard, crews rushed to battle stations while the weapons systems went live, as the ray shield generators were fed by the energy reserves of the warships, to endure any unprovoked aggression by the unidentified ship approaching.

 

[Dimitri Yaroslavov]

Senior Lieutenant Dimitri Yaroslavov internally groaned as he heard the voice through the comms. The face of his subordinate echoing his own frustration as the Officer adjusted his collar and cleared his throat. Though he knew the language, he had little practice with it. All he could hope, was that it would suffice to discourage violence. There were simply too many, and the KIF Mochalivi could hardly be classified as a warship. At the same time, there was a mild sense of curiosity. Galactic Republic? Did that imply they controlled this galaxy? He shook his head. This was no time to consider such things. "Fyoderov, prepare the signal jammer and await my signal." He stated. The other drone nodding before again opening the Comms channel.

"Rrepeat. Zis' is Senior Letenant Dimitri Sergeievich Yaroslavov of zhe Kopperian Aerospace Forces, in command of KIF Prospectorh Mochalivi to... Master Jedai of Galactic Republic. We are come in peace. Over?"

 

[Aola Cliyerslan Vilbolra]

The Jedi remained still, as the transmission came through. The operator nearby, monitoring the comms and coordinating the squadron looked at her in deep questioning gaze, shaking his shoulders.

"Tell the Twins to stand down." the Jedi instructed, to the operator's surprise.

"But, General-" he protested.

"Tell them." She continued.

Aola returned her attention to the comms console, going forward to continue transmitting after several seconds went by in silence from the Republic Fleet.

"You seem new, Senior Lieutenant Dimitri Sergeievich Yaroslavov."

Her voice was now perfumed with a perhaps questionably playful tone.

"It is not safa for explorers to journey these Sectors, nowadays...."

Simply by the way the tone altered, it could be heard that her expression gradually shifted to smiling. She was amused by the encounter, almost as soon as the two Thranta-Class Corvettes halted their advance in the void, in what seemed to be a coordinated instruction from their command.

 

[Dimitri Yaroslavov]

The Senior Lieutenant sighed in relief, a cold steely breath escaping his non-existent lungs. Of course, he remained cautious. But there was a degree of relief as he saw the approaching ships cease their movement. Yet, her words bugged him nonetheless.

"Not safe? Vat you mean not safe? It seemed safe enough before arriving in this sector." Dimitri complained, his teeth gritting. Only to pause, his fingers wrapping beneath his rounded chin in thought. Suddenly, his eyes again shifted to the visual feed projected inside the bridge, his eyes widening in understanding. All of these ships were battle damaged. "Vho have damaged your ships? Are you at var?" He inquired, his body tensing slightly.

 

[Aola Cliyerslan Vilbolra]

The Jedi's giggling was audible for a brief moment, to that question.

Are you at War?

How innocent an inquiry, and yet how common, the answer.

Are you at war?

Aola tried her best to recall a time when the Republic had not been at War. The very realization of this endeavour would encumber many a mind with maddening thoughts, yet in her case, she had long since made peace with the knowledge accumulated in the Purges, the Exile and the later war in the Trailing Sectors....

Are you at War?

The question rung in her head like a bell tolling for a Demon's blessing.

"Indeed we are, I am afraid. And you, dear Dimitri, stepped right in the thickest of it." she admitted. Her tone remaining playful, though with no little melancholy recognizable simply by the sheer pain of the topic at hand. "This planet has been resisting the attacks from the Sith and their corsairs for the better part of four years. Where are you coming from, if I may? It feels like you are in strange voids...."

 

[Dimitri Yaroslavov]

Dimitri, despite himself, smirked ever so slightly. Pirates. Of course it had to be pirates. However, it did intrigue him to know how strong these pirates must have been to threaten an entire planet, for four years, without recourse. Though, considering his own nation's storied history, there were stranger things than this. But, when she asked where he was from, the Razborka drone paused.

How was he supposed to explain that. Such information wasn't to be handed over lightly, especially since he had no idea if the woman on the other hand was speaking the truth. Yet, all the same, he steadied himself.

"Then we have something in common. Though I will spare details," He explained before clearing his throat. "We are... Outsiders here. We come from the planet Kopperia."

 

[Aola Cliyerslan Vilbolra]

"Koperia?" she pointed out, as if mentally noting the name.

Back on the Republic Station's command center, Aola slightly twisted her fingers, gently signalling the operator near her to the console, as if driving him through unknown means, through instructions given yet unspoken. And the operator, indeed reacted, rushing to the console and typing the planet's name. Few seconds later, he turned to her, shaking his head, as the screen offered no results to his search.

"I understand. We do share this feeling." the Jedi agreed in the comms. "Perhaps, if we both make it through the day, we may speak on different, better terms. There is no reason to have enemies, when you can have friends, Senior Lieutenant Dimitri." She continued. "But I would advise you to withdraw from the Trailing Sectors. These territories no longer have friends. They are consumed by Darkness."

The Jedi closed her eyes, reaching out in the Force in hopes to sense any presence in the Force strong enough to make itself known from the foreign vessel. She had yet to determine, whether the ship's appearance was a coincidence, or something different. Something, perhaps, that carried meaning.

 

[Dimitri Yaroslavov]

Both drones on the bridge turned to each other in concern. Darkness. *Consuming. Darkness.*

The words alone made the young commander's core tremble. A testament to its origin. "Darkness? What do you mean by darkness?" Of course, he knew her offer was important. Yet, the worry caused by Aola's statement could not go unanswered.

As she reached out toward the vessel, Aola felt something... Strange. Not dark, but not the gentle guise of the lightside either. Instead, she felt something pushing back, a force seperate to any she'd known, keeping it from out of her vison, like eyes unable to focus. Fuzzy, but unclear.

 

[Aola Cliyerslan Vilbolra]

Darkness? What do you mean by Darkness?

The Jedi's eyes openned. She drew a deep breath, before turning her gaze to the operator. It took but a single moment for him to know what to do through the unspoken tongue she shared with him, and so, he scrolled to the console, quick to type.

"The Dark Crusade has laid waste to Minos Sector." she then confessed in the transmission. The very voice twisted by the calling of the dark reality that surrounded her. An unseen force pushing her to speak words she did not intent, and yet, she offered no resistence to that. "Karideph. Tyrellia. Tarraba. All have fallen to the tide. Few of us still stand."

A single teardrop finally escaped her eye, sliding down her blue skin.

"Every day, we look up to the sky; Knowing this may be the last day we see it blue, searching for the shades of the enemy's fleets."

A moment went by in silence.

"If you are young, in the Void, heed this: Leave. Do not return. Do not inflict such to your people. We will stand for what is right. And, by the Force, we will win."

The river of her psyche went from melancholy, sorrow and fear, to determination, clad in a cuirass of sheer willpower. In silence, she already regretted this tinny moment of weakness, this shard of disbelief, inflicted by so much a horror knowingly undergoing, for it was such her place, and the vows taken. She regretted not her place. She regretted not her struggles. Yet, if there was anything she could have done, to have even a single more ship come to Omwat, to pick just one more from the famished inhabitants, before she fell to what felt like an inevitable sacrifice, she could die knowing she did all she could.

But, deep inside, she knew there would be no further aid.

"You should return home, Senior Lieutenant." her voice now sounded serious. "This is a warzone. There is nothing to explore."

 

[Dimitri Yaroslavov]

The Lieutenant heard her words, but fear gave way to realization. Dark Crusade. She didn't mean Kordia, did she? Regardless, Dimitri shook his head. He would leave. But, before doing so, he turned to his subordinate. "Fyoderov. Send a message to the fleet. If she speaks of what I believe she is, we have no choice but to intervene."

"Yes, Your Excellency." The worker drone replied. His green eyes narrowed in determination as he began typing on the console while reactivating the comm channel.

Dimitri sighed deeply before speaking. "Master Jedai, I can not do zhat. Ve vill depart now. But ve vill come back soon. Zhe Admiral will hear of zhis."

 

[Aola Cliyerslan Vilbolra]

The Jedi stood stunned. For a moment, what she heard by the Lieutenant felt a lie dressed in ill-timing. But... He meant it? He must have meant it.

"Return?" she spok. Her fingers halted just an inch from the transmission button, yet to activate the comms. "Is this it?" she muttered. Her thoughts clustered her mind.

"General?" the operator asked.

"Can this be?"

---

"Minos Sector is lost. You have my gratitude if you wish to assist us, but I shall ask only for one thing. Help the civilians. We have thousands in need of evacuation. Tell the Admiral that the Jedi Order will be indebted, if help arrives. A-"

The transmission was interrupted.

From the depths of the Void, a presence made itself known. It was no flesh, or bones or durasteel. Desolate, faceless and voracious, a wave of unseen cold came from the distand darkness like a tidal wave. A wave unseen, save to those who could sense the fabric of the Force, beyond matter's visual restraints.

Something was coming. Foul. Decaying... Living... Yet of soul hollowed by the Dark Side....

 

[Dimitri Yaroslavov]

Dimitri felt his insides shudder as the Jedi's voice cut off. Why did it feel dark all of a sudden? " Your Excellency, the signal. It's been jammed!" Cried the panicked voice of the warrant officer.

"What?" Questioned the Senior Lieutenant, only to fall silent as the scanners beeped rapidly as red lettering appeared on the screen.

"WARNING: SUBSPACE EMISSION DETECTED, TIME TO ARRIVAL, 5 SECONDS"

"Fyoderov, get us turned around!" Dimitri shouted. His typically calm voice laced with fear as his tail shot straight up, nearly hitting the roof plating in his momentary loss of composure.

"Yes!" Vlad shouted, firing the side thrusters and rear engines as the ship made a controlled turn toward where their exit would be and began boosting rapidly as the hyperdrive powered up. Unfortunately, from the void, a small, black shape appeared right in their flight path, forcing them to slow down to avoid a collision.

 

[Aola Cliyerslan Vilbolra]

The void was graced by the light of thrusters, as the Copper ship withdrew, making way for the Republic warships, now forming up, each and every one of them bursting alife, as alarm rung across all ships.

The Jedi Master stood at the control room of the station, staring at the distant void, as if she could see the Copper ship fleeing the scene, irrespective of her vision no longer being able to distinguish it from the void.

"We are commencing matter scans, General." the operator declared. "Still no sign of the enemy!"

The Jedi shook her head. Her eyes switching to what seemed to be empty void.

"No... They are coming...."

"Hyperspace is clear. We are dispatching distress signal now."

"They are there..." the Jedi muttered. "They do not come from the Hyperspace... Relay deployment orders to the fleet. Battle formation. Prepare to intercept, coordinates 3-1-0. Signal the Ground Command to make ready. This is no orbital raid."

---

"Now we wait. And hope."

 

[Dimitri Yaroslavov]

As they drew closer, they came to realize the object was nothing but a wreckage, and both drones drew a sigh of relief. "Well, we should be clear. Get us out of here." Dimitri stated with a sigh before sitting back down.

Vlad nodded, again powering up the engines before jumping out of the sector toward one of those they'd discovered previously. One completely empty of Kopperian presence, but hopefully one that would give the battery to recharge and allow them to continue back toward friendly territory.