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Sergeant Fraust. Ready your men for deployment. You are to report to Arca Barracks Depo #117 with full kit. This order overrides any previous standing, priority code RC 1135/04B. That means move it, trooper.

Teroch was pleased with the amount of terror he put into his voice. Even more so with this nice little training course. Crates and pallets had been fashioned into a nice little cottage for Rapid Entry practicing. Durasteel containers had been torn apart and had been built into Theta Squad's little shanty. A few sandbags, grudgingly taken from the quarter master, had been made into two bunkers, which laid nicely into the dirt.
The wrecked speederbike had been set into it's own little corner as a mechanical training and bomb disposal 'teaching tool.'
All in all, it would make due for the purpose they needed it.

Brike drew herself up and followed the prince into the shuttle, settling down in the co pilot's seat as it took off from the Jedi Temple.

Brike looked about the large ship, admiring the fine work. She folded her hands into the sleeves of her robes as she crained her neck upward to spy some of the higher up features. This was the largest ship she had ever been on. "Impressive cruiser, Radomir." She turned to him. "Where are these pirates, then?"

She nodded slowly, staring into the sea of stars that swept before the viewport. "Why do you think they're hiding out there? Certainly there are more profitable ports in other places in the galaxy?"

"If a civilian liner can go toe to toe with your warships, Master Giddeon, what do you think will happen if we can get them organized into the military department? Just like the Confederate ships, who stood toe to toe. Something tells me that you need to learn a little modesty before trash talking your opponents; it may come off as petty jealousy. Especially since you're trying to make a sale," Vossa said, giving a laugh to herself, as she waved to one of her assistants, who came rushing over.

"You're trying to be a smart man, Master Giddeon. If you can't keep up with my talking, what's to help you get through any of our circumloquatious discussions or laws here in the Senate? Yes, I want you to challenge the Calimari to a friendly shipyard duel. If they realize that they'll be knocked out by the Confederacy, and have their ships taken away and renovated, they might settle their differences. You'll get your display of might, the Calimari will need to get their act together, the senate realizes you actually aren't selling a poor product that CEC can counteract, especially with the fact you're currently considered rather unfriendly towards us, and everybody wins. Or are you scared you might lose?"

The security droids mono-eye made no response for long moments after the gentleman had identified himself before coming active again.

“Jag,” An icy female voice crackles over the speakers. “I thought that I told you that I didn’t want anything to do with you anymore. So what are you doing here on my doorstep?” Sara Le’Bell stared at her vid-screen, and the image of a man she had tried hard to forget.

Trickery and subterfuge of this sort was not what the Kuati had anticipated on arriving on Coruscant. "The Calamari claim their ships are cruisers, I think it'd be best to show them the true meaning of the term. I will dispatch a Praetor-class Star Cruiser to challenge their largest warship." Giddean smiled, "The Confederacy purchased Tector, Imperator, and Venator class warships as though they were the backbone of a battle fleet. That is not their purpose, Kuat has Star Cruisers and Dreadnaughts for that."

"You honestly don't know?" Jag said rhetorically as he adjusted his cap. "I'm here for my daughter."