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Return to Praesitlyn
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| Reuke_Cambrist | Date: Wednesday, 24 Jun 2015, 3:26 AM | Message # 1 |
 Ensign
Group: Users
Messages: 14
Status: Offline
| The Cormond was an unusual sight in the jungles of Praesitlyn. There, among the lush, green foliage was the grey form of the CR-90 corvette, nestled in a clearing. Only the ship's diplomatic markings seemed to belong—the forest green colors of House Cambrist. The Cormond would usually be perfectly clean, especially when bearing the Senator of Brentaal, but on this occasion the hull was scorched from atmospheric entry—in an attempt to avoid long-range scanners, the corvette had emerged from hyperspace in close proximity to the planet, and delved into its atmosphere at high speed. Reuke ur'Tsyne Cambrist would have preferred a more gentle landing.
But a dead man had to take precautions.
The trip from Brentaal to Praesitlyn had seemed interminable to Cambrist, who'd spent most of the trip in the Cormond's conference room, his formidable mind racing the entire way. This much was clear; somehow or other, it was to Jerrod Maclain's benefit for Cambrist to be dead, or to appear so. This much was evident from the TIE fighters that had been dispatched to shoot down his airspeeder one standard week ago. Maclain was eager to assume that Cambrist had been on it—as always, the Governor was content with half-measures.
What wasn't clear was why. Maclain wasn't a man of much initiative, and didn't have any particular animosity for Cambrist. It was more likely that the motive for Cambrist's assassination was someone else's. But someone else in the Empire, or someone on Brentaal? he'd wondered many times on the journey to Praesitlyn. It was a sad fact that even his family couldn't be trusted; Lady Estella shed crocodile tears to The Coruscant Journal about the death of "young Reuke," but since the suspension of the Senate he'd become quite useless to her.
But the order to assassinate him could just as well have come from above Maclain, perhaps from Imperial Center. Cambrist had fallen out of favor in the Imperial Court since he'd been rather critical of the Emperor's suspension of the Senate. Could he have been caught up in the Empire's post-Yavin frenzy to eliminate all things "rebel"?
Cambrist didn't know, and he couldn't return to Brentaal without answers.
The Cormond's floodlights blazed to life as sun began to set on Praesitlyn. Someone on the planet had undoubtedly detected the corvette and passed word along to Sluis Van. That didn't give him much time, he thought as he donned a Devlikk feather shawl and headed for the ship's landing ramp.
Brentaalans weren't popular in these parts.Added (24 Jun 2015, 3:26 AM)
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An hour had passed, and there'd been no sign of trouble from the Sluissi locals or from Sluis Van itself. It was a short trek from the Cormond to a long-abandoned mining compound that was in the process of disappearing into the dense jungle of Praesitlyn. A decade ago, the compound had been Brentaal-owned, and used to mine carbon from the surrounding jungle much to the chagrin of the planet's inhabitants. A controversy had ensued, and naturally, Cambrist had defended his world's economic exploitation of a virgin world he'd never once set foot on himself. (Now that he had set foot on Praesitlyn, the planet seemed to be wreaking its belated revenge on his designer shoes, but for once Cambrist was too circumspect to notice).
Eventually, Brentaal relented and the mining operation had been abandoned. Far from simply 'doing the right thing,' however, Brentaal had calculated that the operation wasn't worth the enmity of Sluis Van in the Senate. The controversy, and the abandoned mining compound, were soon forgotten. But now, ten years later, it was here that Cambrist had gone in his hour of greatest need. His reason for doing so would soon be apparent.
Cambrist and a duo of marines from the Cormond had located the command hut—a prefabricated structure that had held up surprisingly well for the years of neglect and punishing humidity it was never built to endure. Cambrist's keycard hadn't worked on the door, and for a moment he'd been reminded of the fateful day that he'd been locked out of his own office on Imperial Center, only to be told the Senate had been suspended in the middle of the night. Many of his peers had accepted this indignity without complaint and been rewarded with promotions to the Imperial Court. But Cambrist wasn't interested in being an 'Advisor'. He had no patience for meaningless titles and had remained active in politics on his homeworld—to his detriment, it now seemed.
With a wave of Cambrist's hand, the marines had made short work of the door and began to clear brush and other debris from the interior of the command hut while engineers from the Cormond were given the task of restoring power to it. A perimeter was established, with the rest of the Cormond's marines acting as sentries on the peripheries of the compound. If the locals hadn't been aware of their presence before, they would be now as floodlights from the scene would glow brightly in the Praesitlyn night.
Sir Reuke ur'Tsyne Cambrist
Chairman of the Imperial Trade and Commerce Authority
Seneschal of House Cambrist
Former Imperial Senator of Brentaal
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| Malos_Yhemn | Date: Wednesday, 01 Jul 2015, 4:56 AM | Message # 2 |
 Trainee
Group: Users
Messages: 8
Status: Offline
| There were those, however, who wished to know if Reuke Cambrist were still alive. Malos Yhemn didn't particularly care whom wanted Reuke dead; didn't even know the whys or wherefores. He was, however, currently engaged, by means of a low-level Imperial courier, to track down and locate the former Senator of Brentaal. It had been luck; sheer luck, that Yhemn had put in to Sluis Van, making use of certain vessel facilities open to one with an IPKC. Rumors were chased. Bribes were paid. More than one threat was made and a few skulls were cracked, but in the end, Yhemn had his answer, from a smuggler who'd heard it from a mechanic who'd heard it from a tapcafe waitress who'd heard it from a smuggler who'd seen, or at least was sure he'd picked up, a view of a CR-90 corvette, painted in the colors that corroborated with Cambrist's Cormond, near Praesitlyn.
Taking the Winter Dream out to Praesitlyn, dropping out-system far enough that it took him three hours at three-quarters sublight to reach the world, Yhemn had taken the time to review statistical data on the world. Former mining colony with holdings connected to Brentaal had caught his eye, and he'd marked the site of the compound on his map. There was neither rush nor hurry, so the bounty hunter had come in low, on the night side of the planet, taking pains to conceal his presence. Practically skimming the treetops, he'd settled down in a thickly wooded area, roughly ten kilometers from the compound, before taking pains to put his ship in a powered-down standby and conceal it.
From there, it was a hike, but that was little issue to the man in his climate-controlled armor. Through brush and forest he'd moved, carefully closing in on the site. However, it was not the mining camp he reached first; it was the Cormond he stumbled upon, in time from his position on a small, thickly wooded hillock some kilometer or three to the south, to see the corvette's marine compliment marching off towards the location his scanner marked as the site for the compound. Very interesting indeed. Unpacking his X-45 from its carry case, he set in a little defensive position, prepared to simply watch and wait for a few hours.
Malos Yhemn
Contractor
Bounty Hunter
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| Reuke_Cambrist | Date: Thursday, 16 Jul 2015, 1:11 AM | Message # 3 |
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Ensign
Group: Users
Messages: 14
Status: Offline
| Malos Yhemn's good fortune, and his stealthy approach to the planet, had gone thus far unnoticed among Cambrist's party as it went about its work. Yhemn was correct—the security perimeter extended mostly around the mining compound itself, not the Cormond. There were Sluissi-inhabited settlements not far from the compound, and these were of more concern to Cambrist than a bounty hunter who had no reason to know the Senator was still living. The Sluissi had a long memory, and no doubt some of them remembered a time when the Humans from Brentaal had used this compound to exploit the land that had traditionally belonged to them. There had been violence, and there could still.
But Cambrist's foremost concern was the Empire. The Senator was all too aware of the large presence of Imperial ships at the Sluis Van shipyards, not far from Praesitlyn. And if no one had detected him yet, that wouldn't remain the case for long; for the engineers from the Cormond had since completed the task of restoring power and functionality to the command hut and its long-dormant holonet transceiver.
Cambrist needed more information, and for that he needed the holonet. But accessing it from the Cormond wasn't an option. For one thing, the Cormond was supposed to be on a month-long patrol of the Perlemian Trade Route, and the use of the ship's holonet transceiver would immediately betray its location. And not just to Brentaal, either; Cambrist knew that the Empire monitored the holonet closely, and any long-range communications would be traced. Granted, Cambrist's use of the holonet on Praesitlyn would be traced too, but if all went according to plan, he would have departed by then.
His first order of business was to access his personal files at Chateau Cambrist on Brentaal, and transfer a copy of his painstakingly-researched compendium of Imperial trade statistics onto a datacard in his possession. If the attempt on his life had anything to do with this encyclopedia—and indeed, it did implicate a number of Imperial customs agents in corrupt practices—then it would no doubt be confiscated by some ISB agent who, probably, would not completely understand what he had.
Cambrist's second order of business, as he slid the datacard into a pocket of his regal green-and-white hued tunic, was to make contact with an old colleague...
Sir Reuke ur'Tsyne Cambrist
Chairman of the Imperial Trade and Commerce Authority
Seneschal of House Cambrist
Former Imperial Senator of Brentaal
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| Malos_Yhemn | Date: Thursday, 16 Jul 2015, 4:08 AM | Message # 4 |
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Trainee
Group: Users
Messages: 8
Status: Offline
| The Cormond seemed empty, for the most part, devoid of life, or so its downed landing ramp indicated. A CR90 corvette such as this could carry a crew as large as one-hundred sixty-five souls, or less, depending. While a large part of him wanted to investigate further, it seemed wise that, if nothing else, a homing beacon could well solve the problem of locating the ship. Ever one to err on the side of caution, Yhemn fitted a specially modified beacon to the end of his X-45. Designed to be either hand-tossed or fired off, it's forward end was encased in a protective gel, surrounded by an adhesive, allowing it to be stuck to a target from a distance without damage.
Slowly, carefully and staying under cover whenever possible, Yhemn closed the distance between himself and the corvette, crawling at times on his belly, even. At last, he was closer than he wished: four-hundred meters away from the craft, laying flat on his stomach and aiming the rifle from between the trunks of two thick trees that had grown together, leaving a convenient little gap where he was aiming from. With the weighted projectile, he was just inside maximum allowed distance for the item. Swapping the standard tibanna cartridge for a lower-powered one, also designed to launch the beacon-projectile, he altered his arc of fire, aiming high and squeezing the trigger. There was a loud phutt; one he anticipated wouldn't be heard over the distance, and he tracked the arc of the beacon as it rose, then fell, landing, one might presume, almost between the port-side dorsal escape pods.
Before going further, Yhemn quickly swapped power packs, scanning through the scope for any signs of life around the ship.
Malos Yhemn
Contractor
Bounty Hunter
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| Reuke_Cambrist | Date: Friday, 17 Jul 2015, 0:15 AM | Message # 5 |
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Ensign
Group: Users
Messages: 14
Status: Offline
| "Did you hear that?" asked one member of the bridge crew of another, craning his neck to look up in the direction of the escape pods.
"Didn't hear anything," said the other, smoke from his cigarette disappearing into the hot air of the Praesitlyn night as he did so. There wasn't much for the bridge crew to do other than to stretch their legs and have a smoke outside the Cormond as the ship's marines and engineers went about their work, frequently coming and going up and down the ship's landing ramp carrying tools and other equipment. Even if one of them had heard the thud of Yhemn's tracking device, it wouldn't sound any stranger than the plethora of strange noises common to all tropical planets, from the loud chirping of insects in the night to the strange bird songs in the trees above.
The first crewman shrugged, having lost interest in the sound as he took another drag of his cigarette. "What do you suppose Cambrist has us doing out here, anyway?" he asked a moment later.
"Beats me," the other replied, "Haven't been this far from Brentaal since, when, Acherin?"
"Acherin. There was a good time."
"Confiscated so much good liquor I must have been drunk for a week straight."
"Remember when we tractor beamed an entire train car?"
"Hard to believe it was ten years ago."
"Yeah."
They both became quiet, ruminating on the inexorable passage of time until they'd finished the last of their cigarettes and ground them into the dirt beneath their boots. A few moments later they disappeared up the ramp of the Cormond from whence they'd come. However, other members of the crew would appear every now and then, taking the opportunity to breathe some fresh air after a long flight, but finding it too hot and humid to remain outside for long.
Cambrist, meanwhile, continued his communication with Mical de Crion.
Sir Reuke ur'Tsyne Cambrist
Chairman of the Imperial Trade and Commerce Authority
Seneschal of House Cambrist
Former Imperial Senator of Brentaal
Message edited by Senator_Cambrist - Friday, 17 Jul 2015, 0:16 AM |
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| Malos_Yhemn | Date: Friday, 17 Jul 2015, 7:46 AM | Message # 6 |
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Trainee
Group: Users
Messages: 8
Status: Offline
| The problem now, for Yhemn, was whether or not to push forwards, despite the presence of crew, or withdraw and simply monitor from afar. The heat and humidity were taking their toll, even on Yhemn, despite the cooling within his clothing and helm. Forget all that 'invincible Mandalorian' crap. Just because Yhemn was from the world didn't mean he had to enjoy actively being in the suck. Well, at least the tracking device was on the ship. Still, perhaps it was best to investigate a little further, even if it ran the risk of being discovered. Best to wait until nightfall, though. The Cormond's personnel didn't seem overly concerned about Praesitlyn's jungle atmosphere, and perhaps for that reason, Yhemn chose to close the distance further.
The corvette's floodlights presented their own obstacle, of course; situated about their landing ramp and other portions of the ship. He'd never be able to stroll on in unobserved, and any use of force to remove the offending lights would simply be noted and, like as not, the ship would seal up tighter than a rancor's mouth after a bite of food. That left one option, especially if he wanted to keep Cambrist here for the time being, until he could make contact with someone higher up the chain. Slowly, using the foliage as cover and, at times, concealment, he began to work his way around towards the rear of the vessel, keeping that stand-off distance of four-hundred meters, give or take fifty or so, here and there. His ultimate aim was the corvette's blind spot in the rear of the vessel.
Moving such a small distance, even carefully, consumed the better part of three-quarters of an hour, but at last, he was in position. Hunkering down in a small fern-covered depression, Yhemn stripped off a quartet of his six thermal detonators, three being smaller models, V-1s from the Clone Wars, with a fourth, a Class-A, serving as the pièce de résistance. Now, he only needed to wait for a clear opening.
Malos Yhemn
Contractor
Bounty Hunter
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| Reuke_Cambrist | Date: Saturday, 18 Jul 2015, 1:27 AM | Message # 7 |
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Ensign
Group: Users
Messages: 14
Status: Offline
| Yhemn might yet have found it to his advantage to reconsider his plan. His employer apparently had an interest in confirming that Senator Cambrist was dead, or in knowing if he was still living. Whatever the nature of that interest was, Yhemn's employer, having learned that the Senator was indeed alive, would then almost certainly want to know where Cambrist was going and what he was up to. Marooning the Senator on Praesitlyn when Imperial forces from Sluis Van would no doubt be there within the hour to investigate the source of the mysterious holonet transmission would probably not serve the interests of his employer. Moreover, Yhemn not having been instructed whether or not to interfere with Cambrist, there was a distinct possibility that his employer would pay more money for the data from Yhemn's homing beacon. And furthermore, with the beacon in place, it was not as though Cambrist could evade Yhemn for long in the event of his timely departure from Praesitlyn.
Meanwhile, at the command hut, Cambrist had concluded his transmission to Mr. Crion, and had one last matter to attend to before returning to the Cormond.
Back at the landing site, an access hatch on top of the midsection of the corvette hissed open unexpectedly, and a sleepy-looking young man climbed out with a pistol in his hand, a pair of macrobinoculars around his neck, and a datapad under his armpit. An Ensign from the look of his rank insignia, he complained loudly in the Praesitlyn night about being sent to look out for mynocks ("How am I supposed to know what a mynock looks like?" he grumbled to no one in particular) and neglected to close the access hatch behind him. With the homing beacon not far from his feet, the Ensign obliviously stuffed the pistol into his belt and turned on his datapad, playing a game of Vjun Castle Defense as he waited for the Senator to finish whatever they were doing here so he could go back to sleep.
Sir Reuke ur'Tsyne Cambrist
Chairman of the Imperial Trade and Commerce Authority
Seneschal of House Cambrist
Former Imperial Senator of Brentaal
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| Malos_Yhemn | Date: Saturday, 18 Jul 2015, 1:53 AM | Message # 8 |
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Trainee
Group: Users
Messages: 8
Status: Offline
| The sentry's arrival, if not by sound alone, was picked up in thermal vision, and Yhemn quietly cursed his luck. Creeping close enough, even under cover of dusk, would be difficult. Against the magnified vision and thermal optics of macrobinoculars, though? Nearly an impossible task. For a moment, Yhemn was sorely tempted to potshot the lone sentry and continue with his initial thought of grounding the corvette by disabling its engines. The moment passed and cooler reason prevailed. He had no idea of the communication between Cambrist and his contact; he'd not been monitoring frequencies. Still, there was a time to fight and a time to fall back; perhaps more, indeed, could be gleaned of Cambrist's whereabouts.
Carefully replacing the X-45 in its case, he low-crawled to a better point, taking his time and putting treeline and distance between himself and the corvette, he eventually got to his feet, making off towards the Winter Dream at a light jog. With any luck, he'd make it before Cambrist took off, and be in position to track and follow.
Malos Yhemn
Contractor
Bounty Hunter
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| Reuke_Cambrist | Date: Tuesday, 28 Jul 2015, 0:04 AM | Message # 9 |
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Ensign
Group: Users
Messages: 14
Status: Offline
| A few moments after Yhemn withdrew, the young Ensign would have his wish as he spied Cambrist's party through his macrobinoculars, trudging back toward the Cormond. The Senator had, indeed, done what he'd come here to do. Brentaal, the cause of so much annoyance for him in the Senate all those years ago, now annoyed him further by causing him to sweat through his shawl, the Devlikk feathers now looking absolutely wretched. Cambrist didn't like Praesitlyn, and it seemed the feeling was mutual. But as he climbed the ramp of the Cormond, he was able to content himself with the knowledge that the scars caused by Brentaal's mining operation would continue to mar the surface of the planet for many years to come.
Cambrist breathed deeply the cool, dry air inside the corvette as he proceeded directly to his quarters, having already furnished the ship's destination to its captain and ordered him to depart as quickly as possible. Brentaalans were a traditionally spacefaring people, and Cambrist, having spent many cumulative hours of his life aboard starships and having the pale skin to prove it, found the recycled air comforting.
He wasn't even in the shower before he felt the Cormond's engines rumbling to life. Good. By now, the Empire would have detected his holonet doings and probably even traced the origin to Praesitlyn. It was a short flight from there to Sluis Van, and Imperial cruisers could make the trip faster than most. There was no shortage of reasons to leave Praesitlyn, then. Hopefully for good, Cambrist thought to himself as a field of stars began to shine through the viewport of his quarters and the sickly green glow from the planet faded.
Unbeknownst to Cambrist and the crew of the Cormond, who would be getting some much-needed rest as soon as the ship entered hyperspace, Malos Yhemn would probably not be far behind them.
Sir Reuke ur'Tsyne Cambrist
Chairman of the Imperial Trade and Commerce Authority
Seneschal of House Cambrist
Former Imperial Senator of Brentaal
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| Malos_Yhemn | Date: Tuesday, 28 Jul 2015, 12:09 PM | Message # 10 |
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Trainee
Group: Users
Messages: 8
Status: Offline
| Yhemn's return trek through the jungle was considerably quicker, for, once out of eyesight of the Cormond, he'd broken into a jog, coupled with flat-out running where terrain allowed. Still, there was only so fast a man on foot could go through such terrain, and ten kilometers, even covered at a quick pace, took Yhemn almost forty minutes. Fortunately, the power-up process on the Winter Dream did not take long, and the homing beacon was working quite well. He'd invested enough money in it, after all.
Once in space, long before any Imperial response arrived to track down Cambrist, Yhemn oriented his vessel and departed Praesitlyn, intent on tracking his prey once more.
Malos Yhemn
Contractor
Bounty Hunter
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