Completed The War of Grains and Durasteel

[Bruce Malcom]

Within the Confederacy's territory, there are bountiful resources. Each planet provides, each planet receives. Commerce, trade, this is the lifeblood of the Separatists.

The Clone Wars may have damaged the Republic more than the Separatists, but one bolt, one screw, unfastened could mean the end of the Confederacy of Independent Systems. The planet Ynvvan, if Admiral Korve is correct, might be a way to take out said screw. The planet is a vital producer of both grain-based foods and durasteel, both of which are vital to the Confederacy's continued survival. It wouldn't be a death blow to lose this planet, but it would be to countless millions in nearby systems. Such loss could mean less support for the CIS from twenty-five systems.

Korve, having pacified the planet once before, was assigned, along with half of his four hundred-strong fleet, to defend the planet should problems arrive.

It would do the Republic a great deal of help, and such resources would be almost a confirmed sell in such war times for criminals and hired guns...

 

[Aeaolen Kicka]

The Malice dropped out of hyperspace into realspace, he was perplexed by the Admirals location. The area of space was barren, there existed no planets, the nearest star wasn't very "near" and there wasn't as much as asteroids floating, just the deep emptiness of the void all around them. Malcharion had been dispatched to investigate the rather odd appearance of a Confederacy Vice Admiral in the middle of no where, but that is precisely why Malcharion had arrived. Malcharion tapped several keys on the control board of his screen and he could not for the life of himself or the Force understand why the Vice Admiral had landed here. His mind immediately raced and he triggered a number of senors and early warning systems, perhaps this was an ambush? Some sort of scheme? He closed his eyes and sighed lightly, the Dark Side guided him and wrapped around him like a krakens tentacles, he searched the Force and saw no scheme at play here.

Malcharion tapped a few more buttons and conducted a local area scan for advanced signatures, a cheap and easy way to attempt to find things that were masked. Nothing. Malcharion raised an eyebrow and looked up at the floating PB-950 Patrol Board that drifted in the vast void of space. "PB-950. This is the Malice operated by Acolyte Zharost. Identify."

 

[Bruce Malcom]

The sensors and such suddenly snapped on with a planet, a couple moons, and a hundred or so ships, along with the Confederate Admiral's cohort.

"This is Admiral Bastilla Korve of the Confederacy of Independent Systems, commanding from the Scythe of Corruption. Please respond."
@Aeaolen Kicka

 

[Aeaolen Kicka]

Malcharion tapped his sensor display and indeed, something showed up and it appeared to be a planet, but that remains to be seen. Malcharion, prior to his response, surveyed the field of vessels, many of them were out of date and older types, most of them appeared to be retrofitted freighters that could pass as some backwater planetary navy. Malcharion raised an eyebrow and nodded to himself, he would make a mental note of this. It seems odd that an Admiral for the Confederacy would be randomly above such an unnotable planet with a pitiful "shipyard" but perhaps this is the hill that the Admiral wanted to die on.

Malcharion was going to ignore the fact that he did indeed identify himself, in fact, he didn't need to identify himself, Dark Acolytes were granted special authority and command something that Count Dooku had seen to himself. Malcharion however shook his head and continued on with the facade. "Repeating, I am Acolyte Zharost, commanding the Malice."

 

[Bruce Malcom]

Malcharion tapped his sensor display and indeed, something showed up and it appeared to be a planet, but that remains to be seen. Malcharion, prior to his response, surveyed the field of vessels, many of them were out of date and older types, most of them appeared to be retrofitted freighters that could pass as some backwater planetary navy. Malcharion raised an eyebrow and nodded to himself, he would make a mental note of this. It seems odd that an Admiral for the Confederacy would be randomly above such an unnotable planet with a pitiful "shipyard" but perhaps this is the hill that the Admiral wanted to die on.

Malcharion was going to ignore the fact that he did indeed identify himself, in fact, he didn't need to identify himself, Dark Acolytes were granted special authority and command something that Count Dooku had seen to himself. Malcharion however shook his head and continued on with the facade. "Repeating, I am Acolyte Zharost, commanding the Malice."

Korve raised one of his eyebrows. "This is either a communications failure or a trap..."

One of the droids in command spoke up. "Sir, we aren't detecting any interference."

Korve sighed. "Trap it is, then. Let's mess with them first. Activate comms..." He waited for the signal then spoke once more. "Acolyte Zharost, this is Admiral Korve, commanding the Scythe of Corruption. What is it you want, Acolyte? Is a shipment from this planet or some spaceship reinforcements not up to someone's likings?"

 

[Aeaolen Kicka]

Malcharion raised an eyebrow as he heard the Admirals haughty tone. Malcharion made a note to himself. Snap his neck when I have the chance. Malcharion lowered his raised eyebrow and tapped the communicator again. "Admiral, I don't quite think that you understand." Malcharion paused. The Dark Acolyte's answered to no one but the highest reaches of the Confederacy and certainly this two-bit Admiral in the middle of no where was not going to insult him as such. "I'm here for an inspection from the Confederacy. I think it would be better that we discuss this in person because ship-to-ship communications can be so...impersonal." Malcharion was angered, he could feel the tendrils of the Dark Side pulling him ever so slowly, it was as if the call of the void echoed the heart of the Dark Side and he wanted to reach out and grab it but he moderated himself. The Malice drew closer to the PB-950 patrol boat and initiated basic docking procedures. The Admiral was about to have a visit from the Dark Acolyte.

 

[Bruce Malcom]

Malcharion raised an eyebrow as he heard the Admirals haughty tone. Malcharion made a note to himself. Snap his neck when I have the chance. Malcharion lowered his raised eyebrow and tapped the communicator again. "Admiral, I don't quite think that you understand." Malcharion paused. The Dark Acolyte's answered to no one but the highest reaches of the Confederacy and certainly this two-bit Admiral in the middle of no where was not going to insult him as such. "I'm here for an inspection from the Confederacy. I think it would be better that we discuss this in person because ship-to-ship communications can be so...impersonal." Malcharion was angered, he could feel the tendrils of the Dark Side pulling him ever so slowly, it was as if the call of the void echoed the heart of the Dark Side and he wanted to reach out and grab it but he moderated himself. The Malice drew closer to the PB-950 patrol boat and initiated basic docking procedures. The Admiral was about to have a visit from the Dark Acolyte.

"Had you started with that, Acolyte, there would have been much less tension. Anyhow, you're cleared to land...if you types even care about form and function at all." He sighed, and hung up communications.

He snapped, getting the attention of his droids. "I want a Commando Droid escort. The only difference between a Jedi and a Sith is that a Sith is more open about wanting your head. I need those who can stop me from losing mine..." He said. Maybe I should've hired Mandalorians... he thought to himself.

As the Commando Droids appeared through the hallways, he had about eight of them flanking himself as he entered the hangar.

 

[Aeaolen Kicka]

Malcharion cared about form and function but it didn't matter when a Confederate Admiral was underneath inspection. Malcharion completed the docking procedures and stepped through the hatch, more like squatted through the hatch and was aboard the PB-950. As Malcharion entered into the vessel he sensed something was off, he was correct when he saw the Admiral and an escort of Commando droids. "Expecting trouble Admiral?" Malcharion flashed his signature sly grin.

 

[Bruce Malcom]

"Just not in the mood to lose a hand, Acolyte. I can't trust myself to keep my mouth shut..." He replied, professionally. The commando droids simply stood there, watching. "...anyhow, how can I assist in your...inspection? Are you here just to take a look at our capital ship, or droids?" Admiral Korve was obviously tired, but not of you. He had been up for a long time discussing politics with the leader of this world, or something along these lines. Inspection was simply the annoying cherry on a filled and spent day.

As he said what he did, a civilian transport ship landed in the hangar bay, filled with crates. They were deposited onto the ship, and droids picked it up and lugged it to cargo bays.

"I've agreed to let the locals use some cargo space to house durasteel and grain-based foodstuffs until they can be sold off. I've considered buying them myself, could make good bargaining chips for neutral worlds. If any remain, to be honest." He looked to the stars behind you. "We've really done a number on the galaxy, haven't we?" He had a smile, and it flickered a bit. "As long as the corrupt Republic doesn't come out on top of this."

 

[Aeaolen Kicka]

"Lose a hand? No. I prefer going for the head." Malcharion flashed a wicked grin as the Admiral continued with a somewhat atypical attitude. "I'm here on a random inspection, this world belongs to the Confederacy, unless there is something going on here that has changed that?" Malcharion was skeptical instantly of the Admiral, the Dark Side of the Force had pronounced something not quite right with the Admiral but Malcharion was unable to pinpoint it so he continued on. "Interesting, they have surplus durasteel and foodstuffs, I am sure that the Confederacy could use them on the former Republic ORDs that we have managed to capture. They would indeed make a fine addition to neutral worlds."

 

[Bruce Malcom]

"Nothing has changed, I'm merely patrolling systems within our boarders. While advancing upon the tired Republic is a priority, it is also good practice to make sure nothing occurs from within. I'm sure as an Acolyte with a job such as yours you'd understand this?" He asked with the same professional aura he's had, except for that one 'done a number' break.

"And yes, the surplus goods would be quite...alluring. I was hoping to use the durasteel and this system's shipyards to build more ships for my navy for future conquests against the Republic, but if you have a better strategy than more numbers, I'd be all ears..." He said this with the traditionally evil and smug drawl. The frigate left the hangar as another one came aboard.