Yavin Station

[Dav Man'Sell]

*Yavin Station, the primary orbital facility holding geosynchronous orbit over the Temple Regions of Yavin IV, sits at 4200 meters across. The station consists of a central section, two flattened cones attached base to base, with a ring section surrounding it at the center-line. The ring section, supported by four arms, contained a number of docking ports and small, single-craft hangar bays. Sometimes, the larger ships of the navy, such as the Imperial II class Star Destroyers, were seen held in place in vast cofferdam connections beneath one of the four arms. The hull of the station, although seemingly smooth, concealed a number of weapon emplacements -- the station was a formidable defensive structure, with powerful shields and resilient hull armour. Three large openings were placed equidistant around the circumference of the upper half, leading to the three primary internal 'flight corridors', which in turn lead to the dozens of mid-sized inner hangers. The openings reached almost to the centre of the station, where they ended with a large, multi-ship hanger each, capable of landing a Corvette, plus several smaller ships. The hangers were separated by vast two cargo bays. Blast doors sealed the hangers and cargo bays off from each other, but could be opened to allow a direct route from one hanger to the next. The central - and largest of these three hangars connected directly to the Grand Atrium.


The Grand Atrium, a vast publicly accessible, 8 floor space that connected to the shopping and recreational parades, public accomodation, and the arterial ring corridors. This was the public and commercial area of the station, the area all visitors to the station had access to. Traders could come here and rent out temporary outlets, and a number of permanent trader's shops were set up in the shopping and recreational parades, including the , a popular bar on the Station.*

[Dav Man'Sell]

[Lunak'yyx'aele]

The ice clinked in her glass as she lifted it to her lips, savoring the burn on her tongue before allowing the liquid to work its magic. Anyone who might have seen the number of empty bottles of various drink tossed carelessly against the trasparisteel at her feet would have thought the slightly built, dark-haired woman should have long ago succumbed to the effects of alcohol poisoning.

But, she only appeared human.

She leaned against the ballister, staring out the tall view port and enjoying the quiet of the abandoned observation deck. Her flesh-colored lips curled into a feral smile as yet another show of lights danced across the stormclouds of Yavin IV below. It was a silent symphony of destruction and death, theJedi uselessly throwing their fighters against the barricade of the Mandalorian siege. What a lovely, purposeless thing war was. So easy to start, so impossible to control.

This station, of course, was only a temporary stopping point for herself. There was only one thing about Yavin IV that interested her, one particular figure, but it would be little longer yet before that confrontation came. She was certain of it. She had foreseen it.

Soon enough, now, she would move on to her next destination, a place seemingly and utterly random for anyone who was not Lunak'yyx'aele. She would depart this station in the same manner that she had arrived, under the guise of illusion, right under the Mandalorian's helmets, using their battleships like her own personal convoy from planet to planet.

The beauty of it was, the pitiful number of Jedi that were still stranded here on this station, whom were even now crawling through the walls like rats to try and gather, were fully aware of her uninvited presence here. Oh yes. Just as she was aware of them. She did not bother to suppress or conceal her dark signature, because in their current oppression, the Jedi could do nothing about it. Because by the time they could, she would already be gone from this place. Because she enjoyed the extra bit of fear, the resentment, and the confusion that their awareness of her would bring. She could practically hear their thoughts. Sith? Here? Why? What part do they play in all of this..?

Ah, wouldn't you like to know, Masters of Yavin...

Her grin slowly broadened, and as the view port of the orbiting station passed into the shadow of the dark side of space, the woman's eyes glowed a fierce red.

[Mai Aussis]

Having been on one of the last few ships to have docked with Yavin Station, the young woman with long brown hair hadn't realised just how quickly her life would have been turned around. A simple cargo transfer. That's all she had been instructed to do. One simple job that should have taken 8 hours to complete. Three days later she was still on board.

Three days later she was still a captive.

The fighting had begun just a few hours after they had docked. The supply crates were being unloaded and security checked, then all of hell had unleashed itself. The Mandalorians had boarded, and the fighting began. Anyone who resisted or was deemed a threat was killed on the spot. Anyone who had a Force aura was killed instantly.

The female trader found herself very quickly surrounded by the Mandalorian Forces, held at blaster point, the barrel pointed straight at her temple. Her hands were forced onto her head, and she was pushed down onto her knees. Her face displayed her terror, her hands shook, yet inside her was a strange calm. She watched as the captors tried forcing their way into the crates, each time breaking the tools they were using or simply chipping the crates themselves, but each one failing in their attempt.

They're... they're security l..l..locked! She stammered nervously, her voice breaking slightly with fear.

Open it The captor growled at her. The trader obliged, typing in the security code to unlock the first few crates. She knew the codes off by heart, even now could type them in without mistakes, but her fingers portrayed a nervousness, slipping the occasional incorrect digit. Stepping back from the crates, she resumed the captive pose, the Mandalorians more interested in what was inside the crates to take notice of what she had just done. Contained in the crates were engineering supplies, tools and parts, each packaged carefully for shipment.

Put her with the others The Mandalorian growled, shoving her hard in the back towards another, making her fall hard onto the floor. Gripped at the neck, she was roughly dragged to another part of the cargo bay, and thrown down with various other captives. Turning back, she looked at the Mandalorians, terrified of what would happen. As the guards controlling them turned to each other, a tiny twitch briefly touched the trader's mouth. She sat with the others, visually shaken and scared, but watching. Everyone huddled together, each feeling a fear of what was to come.

They all remained there, catching small amounts of sleep, under the constant watch of the invaders. Occasionally they were thrown bits of food, eating what they could, and with each hour and day that passed, resigned themselves to the fact they were prisoners, with no hope for the future. Only one of them felt differently.

Only one of them was happy to be captured.

[Mai Aussis]

In the cargo bay, the Mandalorians paced slowly in front of their huddled captives, chatting in low voices. Conversation was often dull, but occasionally the odd piece of information was enough to excite the chatter a little more. A new room had been forced into, a piece of machinery was fixed (only to break down again a few hours later), odd words from the planet below. Not enough to build up a picture of the events that were going on, but seemingly unimportant information that could be useful to some.

Those being held hostage had kept quiet, not aggravating the captors in order to avoid conflict again. If they talked, it was in hushed whispers, and with little movement, so they didn't draw attention to themselves. Food was secretly distributed between everyone, some taking it in turns not to eat in order to keep everyone's spirits up.

The young trader was resting with her back against a crate and eyes closed, a technician from the bay beside her. The trader shifted uncomfortably, sighing gently as she did so

Can you feel it? he whispered to her

Hhhmm?? she replied quietly, opening one eye and looking at him questioningly.

There's... something.... Something bad...

The trader smiled. You mean other than the gun wielding maniacs that are holding us captive? She replied. The technician buried his head into his chest, suppressing a chuckle, and covered it by pretending to be upset. With a quick glance she looked towards the nearest Mandalorian. If he had heard her call him a "Maniac" she expected to be shot on the spot. Thankfully he hadn't.

Yeah... other than that he replied once recovered again. He turned to look at the trader. Can you feel it?

Truth be told, she had felt something. Just on the edge of her senses, out of reach of her knowledge, something she couldn't describe or truly pinpoint, just... there...

Waiting...

She had seen it too. Thinking back to a few hours ago, a card game between two of the Mandalorians had erupted into an argument over a minor points issue, and ended up being an all out brawl between 6 people, before they were subdued and brought back down to size by their superior. The trader had seen it all. But WHAT had she seen?

I'm Callum The technician suddenly whispered beside her, shaking her from her thoughts

Oh.. ummm.. Sasha she replied, realising she had taken a few seconds too long for it to have been a natural reply. Callum's eyes narrowed as though questioning the point, but didn't press it.

Nice to meet you... Sasha. Callum said, pointedly pausing before saying her name.

[Corr Vhett]

:: Gar troan jorhaa'ire be gar paguur, ner ad... ::




:: Al chaab nayc. Kade nau'r liser vaii'l gar kemir. ::


"Kad vaii'l mhi."

:: Ba'slanar mhi. ::




:: Nayc gar, ad'ika. ::




=Maraak=
"Aliit'or. Mhi ganar birov be te mirci'ti joruur'ade olar."




:: What would you have me do, Maraak? Execute them to free up more resources? ::



:: Should we execute you, cyar'ika? ::



:: Or you, ner vod. Should we dispose of you because you're an inconvenience for Maraak here? ::

[Mai Aussis]

Sasha and Callum spent time talking idly, keeping a quiet watch over those around them, but in a way it wouldn't be noticed by many of their guards. The crates had been an interesting turn, but a welcome one. Most of the draughts of the cargo bay were cut out by the crude shelters, but they were enough. As the crates had been emptied they were passed to the huddled captives, and between them had set up the lines under the harsh instruction of the guards who had been patrolling at the time. Tilted on one side, open area facing the middle, and sticking to your own crate. Sasha and Callum had settled into crates next to each other. Ironically, the trader was in one of the crates she had brought onto the station. Now she was the cargo, she thought.

It had been quiet recently, and Sasha had fallen asleep. Her back was resting against one of the sides of the crate, with her right leg out flat, her left bent upwards and her arm resting on her knee. Her hair was falling out of its tie, strands hanging loose down the side of her face, her chin resting on her chest as she slept. Callum was leaning against his crate too, so effectively they were sitting back to back. They often sat this way, especially if they wanted to talk, but kept moving around to avoid suspicion. Callum was sat with both knees tucked up into his chest, hands linked together around his shins, watching the activities of the guards.

The Doors into the cargo bay opened. Loudly. The groans and graunching sound of the door always set Sasha's teeth on edge, and no more so when she was asleep. She shuddered as the noise cut through her, frowning hard to see who had disturbed her.

Sasha... Callum hissed, slightly unnecessarily after the noise of the blastdoor. She replied by tapping the crate twice, a signal the two had set up to let the other know they were aware of something going on. The figure that had entered was a formidable one. Tall, well built, and radiating hate and authority. Something flickered across Sasha's face, vanishing the instant it occurred.

The figure paced through the cargo bay, footsteps echoing around the space. The atmosphere in the area changed rapidly, even the captives knew not to do anything to attract attention. As the figure moved over to the Mandalorians, Sasha looked carefully at Callum. The colour had drained from his face, and his body had tensed.

Relax... She whispered, before smiling to herself. They smell fear.

Funny! He hissed back. Sasha let out a quiet huff, smothering the chuckle into silence. She watched as the group of guards called out

Kad vaii'l mhi. Sasha frowned. She had often picked out odd words of the Mandalorian language, but not let on to Callum. And the time wasn't now either. The figure was moving over towards them, walking past the captives.

Don't look up Sasha hissed quickly, hearing two quiet taps as reply. She watched the floor, saw the boots slowly walk past, the guard behind rattling off some kind of list.

The paces stopped. Sasha swallowed.

There is always something piercing about a gaze upon a person. Its always thought that if you look hard enough at someone they will sense it and look around at you. Sasha felt that gaze now, and did everything she could to resist looking up. The voice from the visor surpised her, heavily accented, yet spoke Basic well

What would you have me do, Maraak? Execute them to free up more resources? Maraak. The head guard? Sasha filed this piece of information away, moving her head slightly towards the visored man. The switch to Basic was, after all for their benifit. He knew they would listen, so wasn't any point in hiding it.

Should we execute you, cyar'ika? Or you, ner vod. Should we dispose of you because you're an inconvenience for Maraak here?

Sasha chuckled, and at the same time felt Callum tense not too far away. She had recognised both terms the figure had used, one of which had even been spoken to her before.

Surely mirci't is more apt. After all its what the others call us. Sasha looked up with a lopsided smile, studying the figure for the first time, the horned visor twisting to match its wearers expressions as he looked down on the pair. After a moment, she took a chance, took a breath then replied again with an air of confidence.

Maybe you should look at your own people to free up resources, I know of at least two who have taken extra rations when they thought no one was watching.

[Corr Vhett]

:: But I am not like the "others", ad'ika... ::



:: Thieves will be punished... ::



:: Tell me, mirci't, :: :: What would you have me do with these nefarious individuals? ::

[Mai Aussis]

Sasha held the gaze of the visored figure towering in front of her. If she looked away whilst he tried to dominate her by staring alone, she would give him the upper hand. Bravely, or foolishly, she continued to study him, just as he was studying her. Slowly the towering man lowered himself to his knees, her smile fading the closer his visor got to her. Sasha's heart raced slightly, and she took a slow breath to calm herself again.

But I am not like the "others", ad'ika...

Sasha chuckled softly It appears you are not, tall oneIntentionally she had twisted his last comment onto him, after all, compared to this figure, everyone was a "little one" to him. Not everyone gets the chance to wear such a funky helmet! Her reply was full of sarcasm, with a mock look of admiration.

Sasha twisted herself, settling against the inside of the crate so she could look easier at the man. She now sat on her right side of her bottom and hips, tucking her legs together, her right shoulder and head resting against the crate. Folding her arms across her, Sasha watched the visor. Twisting and flickering, reading its wearer's emotions, relaying the facial expressions to the outside world. She had known stories of another helmet like that... who had that been? Against her mind she could feel his presence, even in her current state. Any other time she could do something about it, but not now. She had to wait.

Thieves will be punished... The figure replied. With satisfaction, Sasha's eyes flickered to the figure of Maraak. So even he feared this man? She settled her focus back onto the visor Tell me, mirci't, What would you have me do with these nefarious individuals?

Sasha smiled at the use of the word for prisoner, then shrugged, slightly one-sidedly, given her right shoulder was supporting most of her weight against the crate.

I'm no commander. That decision is down to you, Scary One. More sarcasm, covering for the fact her heart was still racing. Was this the reason for the uneasy presence Callum and her had felt earlier? No... this person was something else, but equally as dangerous.

However I will say this. Some civilisations cut off the hands of those who steal. Others would simply cut their rations by half for the duration of the fighting. But you... Sasha narrowed her eyes, as though trying to look beneath the visor. You would more likely shoot them where they stood to make an example of them to the others.

Sasha became serious, looking hard at the man in front of her. Who are you?

[Corr Vhett]

:: I would never shoot my own men, ad'ika. That would promote mutiny among the masses... ::



:: It would be a better idea to cull some of the excess in demand, would it not? ::



:: Two extra rations taken. I must need take two lives in recompense... ::