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2 Months Prior...

Llednar had been ship jumping a lot now. It got more and more dangerous everytime. He had been stealing food from vendors on small planets, and then catching the first cargo ship he saw. Over time, he was getting more and more hungry... Things got a little to close while on Ord Ibanna. The old Tibanna gas mining planet was being used as a stop for cargo ships. Llednar happened to be there when Blovo's second in command was making a stop...
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Llednar moved past people in the crowd. Making a little money at the only populated platform on the planet, by serving food to spacers that were in a hurry. That day was a little colder then most, so he had his hood on. He stopped at the table, and put the two trays in front of the spacer sitting there.
"Here you go, enjoy."
He went to leave, when one of them spoke up.
"Hey, kid!"
He turned slowly.
"Yes, good patrons?"
The spacer was looking pretty pissed off, but then began to laugh. He turned to crew mate.
"HaHa! Didja see da look on 'is face?!"
The crew mate gave a small smile, and looked to Llednar.
"So, whats your name son?"
The man was soft spoken, and seemed very kind. His face was calm, but looked as though in his life, he had seen hell and back...
"Llednar, sir. Llednar Seei'Huo."
"What do you think about the Sith and the Empire and the Galactic Alliance?"
The man wore an interesting grin.
"Sorry... the what...?"
Llednar became confused. He had no idea of what Empire or Alliance was, same with the Sith...
"Your joking, right? Fel? Krayt? Sith? The whole fall of the Jedi?!"
Llednar looked confused, saying nothing.
"Uh... How much you getting working around here?"
"5 creds an hour..."
"What? Are you-"
From behind Llednar came the large hand. A Besalisk grabbed Llednar with two of his arms, and spun him around, picking him of the ground. With his two other free hands, he rubbed his chin, and puffed on his cigar. He blew a large amount of smoke into Llednar's face.
"Listen kid, I know you havn't worked here long, but the job is easy. I can tell your slow, and it seems just as dumb. Now, stop bothering the blasted customers and go cleans the freshers! Seems some sink Corellian left you a nice present too..."
The large cook chuckled, and dropped Llednar on the ground quick. The spacer looked down at the kid, and stood up.
"Excuse me, sir."
The cooked turned around, and gave the spacer a look.
"...Yes...?"
The spacer helped the lost Llednar up, while speaking.
"Just so you know, your going to have to clean that Corellian's mess, because this boy quit just before you asked him to do anything. He's onboard my ship now."
The Besalisk looked insulted now, and walked forward until he was inches away from the spacer. The Besalisk was huge compared to the pilot.
"Is that so?"
He boomed mencingly. The spacer looked him in the face.
"The boy will work for me now, and you will head into that fresher and clean it yourself."
The Besalisk's face then became blank.
"The boy will work for you now, and I will head into that fresher and clean it myself."
He turned and left. The spacer smiled, and turned to Llednar, hand out.
"Names Alek. Welcome aboard Llednar. We have much to talk about..."

" You might have heard about pirates that seem like Heaven raining down its judgement on the Sith or variations of that idea. It's what we're known for, though we've mostly been tearing up the out-of-the-way ones and their stations, nothing of major importance... yet. " Angel said, before turning to look at Freya. " So, what have you been up to in the past while? "

Angel smiled for a moment at Freya's comment, then laughed slightly. " That's the perk of being Captain of your own ship. The only downer is there's not that many women in my crew, so I have to deal with the occassional drunkard trying to get lucky... It's not all that bad really, but it's annoying how many times I've had to get someone to clean up the floor after said drunkard spontaniously falls face-1st into the floor and spills everything he's got on it. "

He thought about this. "We can spare a small freighter, and that's about it. You may bring one other Force-user with you, and however people or droids you need to pilot the YT-2400. That's all we can spare and are willing to let go, since this isn't exactly a public operation."

Fina nodded. "Thank you sir... I'll be off as soon as I've chosen the people needed." She said, then stood from her seat and gave the commander a salute. After the salute, she started to leave the bridge and head for the hangar of the ship... She had to get to work finding 3 others and a droid to crew the ship, so that meant heading back to base planetside...

Dathomir.

One of the few planets with a Force-user majority, Dathomir was a planet buried in the outer rim, and lost beneath a matriarchal society. The planet was the seat of a sect of humans, where most women could use the Force and most men were their man-slaves.

Dathomir saw several sects of Force-wielders rise in its history. The most known are perhaps the Nightsisters, whom controlled the planet during the waning days of the Republic, and until after the Yuuzhan-Vong War. These were an unofficial Sith-cult, held under the thumb of various Sith lords until the Jedi liberated them, and attempted to found a Jedi Praxeum on the planet.

The Dathomiri, not liking the idea of male Force-users, kicked them off planet, and started their own Force-witch Praxeum, led by one Master, her Witches, their Apprentices, and their male servants. These weren't, however, Jedi-wannabes; most Force-Witches used a variety of abilities, ranging from Mind Trick to Force Lightening and Force Choke. Their power, however, was always limited by their own petty traditions, and lack of knowledge; most Dathomiri considered the Force as nothing more than Magic, and attributed their power to casting spells and using words to use their abilities.

Oh, and Dathomir also happened to be the home of the biggest, baddest Rancors in the galaxy, some of which could topple AT-ATs, understand and speak some basic, and even showed minor Force-adeptness when with their Dathomiri masters.

This, of course, all changed with the Second Sith Inquisition.

Thanks to the Dathomiri allying with the Loyalists, when the said group was forced to flee. Now left to its own, Dathomir was blockaded by the fleet, and Darth Krayt and Imperial High Command immediately ordered subjugation of the planet.

Resistance was high. The Sith, or Jedi for that matter, were never welcome planet-side, and they fought fiercely. Hundreds died, entire villages were razed, and at least an entire herd of rancors were killed. This all was compiled by the fact that, to intimidate the planet, the Sith Inquisitor, Lord Sin ordered the death of High Witch Grela, the adoptive mother of Kathleen.

When Kathleen's ship left hyperspace and spotted the Nemesis over the planet, she immediately sensed what had happened. She raced down to the planet, into the forests where her pet, Baal, used to live, looking for answers.

[Eheh... Well okay.]

Fina had moved to the console in the hangar, basically going over the logs of peoples arrival. She found two in particular that caught her interest, getting a picture and file about their duties aboard the ship. One was a fighter pilot, and another was a marksman. If they were to run into any firefights in space, the priority would be to run instead of fight back, but there were guns on the ship for a reason, and if the need arose... there were two guns on the ship. She supposed she could assign the other force user to co-pilot the ship... She just had to find one with some piloting and lightsaber skill. Unfortunately the most she could find of Force Users was a Page. She shrugged and supposed that it was better than nothing... Now she'd need to check up on the droids. She looked for a list of Astromech droids, guessing that would be best for maintenance around the ship...

After having one of the troopers unloading onto the craft deliver the messages to the people, having given them the information on the crew members, all had gathered in the hangar of the Roan Fel, where Fina stood infront of the YT-2400. She already had the Astromech on the ship, where it wandered around doing whatever it saw fit to, she guessed, make the ship better. That was it's job anyway. "Alright. Everyone's here..." She said, looking to the human male. He had brown hair and beard and mustache. "Alexius, You'll be our Pilot..." She then looked to another male, this one with black hair at shoulder length somewhat like Alexius but straight, not a bit wavy, and no facial hair apparent. "Max, you'll be the co-pilot..." She continued and looked finally to the last. The Marksman. "You'll be on one of the guns, and I'll be on the other, if the need arises..." She said, then looked to Alex. "Bastion is our first destination..." She said then walked into the ship, followed shortly afterward by Alexius, Max, and Nimbus.

after a while the ship lifted off and exited the hangar bay of the ship and took off away from the other ships to prepare to go...

Almost as soon as she landed the ship beneath the jungle canopies of the planet and its thick atmosphere, Kathleen hopped out of the fighter and ran into the woods, calling mentally through the Force. "Baal! Come to me!"

At first there was silence, and all she could hear were the calls of birds and the hum of mosquitos, but in no time she felt the familiar presence. A voice echoed in her mind. "Kathleen?"

There was a small roar, followed by the ground rumbling. Pushing its way through the trees, a mature Rancor, at least thirteen meters high and several tons heavy lumbered over. Kathleen smiled. "It still amazes me how you can speak so well for one of your kind, Baal."

The beast bent over a bit, looking down at her with his big yellow eyes. It spoke to her telepathically, using her powers. "Most of us do speak this way, or at least like this, amongst our own kind. We also speak to our masters this way."

She shook her auburn hair. "It's irrelevant. Now, tell me, what's happened here?"

The rancor growled. "You do not know?"

She glowered. "I haven't been here in four years, and you know that."

"Of course. You smell different." Most of the words weren't said this way through their bond, but this was how she interpretted them.

"What's happened?"

"Much has happened." Baal answered with a low rumble. "White men with their light sticks came from the sky and attacked our peoples. Many were killed, and much has been destroyed."

She paled, grief and rage beginning to swell within her. "The Sith?!"

"I do not know. They came after you and many others left, and they fought us. We killed many, but there were too many."

"Who?!" the witch demanded. "How many were killed?"

"They killed most of Blak's heard," she answered. "As well as many of the other witches and rancors. The white men focused most of their attack on the Frenzied River."

This, of all things, scared her the most. She could feel her magic well up within her, like a building cloud of rain and wind. "What about Grela?"

The rancor's lack of reply was evident enough.

Dead.

Kathleen fell to her knees, her mind and heart racing and swarming. "Grela... no..." She couldn't stop thinking of her. The woman, who'd found her, raised her, taught her, cared for her. The witch who took her in when noone else would. The old hag who encouraged her to take Baal as her own rancor. The leader of their order, and ruler of their planet, the one person other than Baal whom she had ever cared for.

And then, hatred hit her, like a duranium crush-driver plowing into a permacrete wall. She looked up, her brown eyes welling and darkening, shifting in color so fast, one couldn't even tell what color they were. "Who did this?!...."

Baal looked at her, drool dripping from her arm-long fangs. "Sin."