"Inherent Justice, this is Volusian flight control, we have you on our scopes and will be opening the landing bay doors upon the delivery of the confirmation code provided by the Ruling Council. Upon confirmation, use the following approach and landing procedures that we are now enclosing to you."

Attached would be a simple flight plan showing the method in which they would be landing. Once their codes were verified against the one they had been
provided (Imperial Naval codes or what not. More than logical to prevent an impostor from taking over.) the large doors on the end of the ship would begin to open up. It was not going to be a fast procedure but as the shuttle would have likely been lining up for a landing it would be a process which would likely be completed in time for the shuttle crafts final approach. They would be asked to reduce speed as they got within the final 100 meters of the entrance and once inside the ship the crew of the ship would signal them guiding them on into the more than mile long ship and hanger bay to a final landing in one of the many empty alcoves which were designed to hold a shuttle of that size.

From the cockpit of the ship it would be possible to see teams of mechanics moving about working on the various fighters, shuttles, and other vehicles around the bay. Running along the length ferrying crew along the ship as well as training the ground soldiers which were stationed aboard. All in all everything was in order the way a ship should be run. Outside the ship a group would be forming up. A dozen or so Volusian soldiers lined up to escort the Imperial Liason officer to a waiting MAT-29 Razorback with a single driver. Not a lot of pomp or circumstance but it was what he was getting. Beyond the soldiers though maintenance crews would begin to move to refuel the Lambda-class shuttle and would even run over some of the post flight checks if allowed to do so.

The exit ramp lowered, and first came Lyons' personal guard, four hand-picked Stormtroopers he'd selected from various ships he'd served on. Each one was steadfastly loyal to him, and in turn, to the Empire, and each were veterans of numerous Imperial campaigns. While their weapons were at the ready, when the troopers disembarked they formed up at head of the Volusian welcoming committee and stood at attention as Tristan exited, Bander following close behind. While he was confident Volus meant no harm; he was a cautious man, thus he allowed his guards to escort him while the Volusian soldiers followed behind. He turned then to a man who appeared to be the ranking officer, his tone light-hearted but carrying a weight to it. "I'm here to see whomever's in charge of the re-engineering process for this ship, take me to them."

Tristan Lyons
Captain of the Inherent Justice

They opened communications as soon as they arrived, as per Imperial Protocol, the pilot being an ex-Imperial "Greetings, this is Flight Officer Hanks, formerly of the Imperial Navy. Now carrying written dispatches from the palace for your Political Officer, please can you direct us to his location? We've run into pirates on the way, so any repairs you could give would also be..." the communication from the vessel was slightly crackly, and not accompanied by any data transmission, due to some superficial blaster damage to the comms array, but it was cut in response to the appearance of a Z-95 Headhunter from hyperspace close behind it as it zoomed towards the protective gunnery of the station's safe embrace.

The Z-95 bore the markings of a pirate vessel, and began to engage the ARC-170, the turret gunner on the ARC returning fire with little effect as the vessels jinked around, the slower ARC finding itself unable to shake off the Z-95, the ARC pilot opened the comm again "CQD, CQD, the Raiders followed us"

A distance away in deep space, out of sensor range from the system, the Gamma-class Shuttle waited to jump to hyperspace for the Volus system, the assault team waiting with their rifles and pistols at the ready, the men in their enviro-suits and ready for combat as soon as the jump was made.

He felt immense guilt at the part his order had played in the run up to and during the Clone Wars. Master Yoda was a fool, as were the council, leading the order to become the commanders of an army of slaves could not be right. To show so little compassion for their fellow beings was to him a betrayal of their virtue. Ka-Dek shook his head, as if the motion would dislodge the idea from his head. He had to be firm of purpose, strong, thoughtful, wise, not introspective. He felt for his enviro-suit's controls, feeling also at his waist the sturdy shape of his light saber, it had not been activated since the clone wars (for the lightsaber was Ka-Dek's last resort) but perhaps today it would see use.

He eyed the man for a moment, crisp blue spheres taking in what he could of both the man and his surroundings. Soon after he'd have work to do, the Grand Vizier expected a report within several days... and it was an awfully-large ship. He nodded to Bander, who proceeded to load Lyons' luggage onto a small cart he'd brought with him. "My men stay with me, if that's alright, I assure you that it's merely out of tradition and habit that I ask so. My servant, however-" he turned back to Bander, "-could stand to be taken to my quarters so that he may unload my belongings. As for your admiral, please, lead on."

Tristan Lyons
Captain of the Inherent Justice

As soon as the fight started though a squadron of fighters from the nearby starbase would break off their standard orbit heading in that direction as fast as possible as well as a corellian corvette which would break off from guarding the space docks to head on to confront the 'pirate.'

As soon as everyone was loaded up the vehicles would take off. As they moved Lyons would hear the powerful engine of the Razorback he was in seem to almost be restraining itself as they drove them to a turbolift which would be able to take them to the bridge. Lyons as he looked around the hanger bay might be able to tell it inspiration, the Ventator-Class Star destroyer. The main difference was size, as this one ran the entire length of the ship and the fact that the doors were located on each end of the ship, forcing pilots to take a sort of straight in and straight out approach. If anyone was ever foolish enough to try and attack either entrance or exit, they would likely be dust in a few minutes from the large guns mounted on top of the ship.

The ARC-170 kept close to the space station, seemingly using it for protection as the pilot, now a little calmer with the pursuit gone, spoke once more "Pilot Officer Higgins, Serial Number 33-25-67-35-21-07, Imperial Starfighter Corps" he said giving the code of a companion who had been a member of the same training group at the Imperial Academy. "Requesting emergency landing, we are losing cabin pressure, estimated time until decompression, 3 minutes" he said urgently, his vessel moving slowly alongside the Avenger-class' station, some 50 meters away, skimming along its hull with weapons powered down, simulating an apparent loss of power to those systems.

The Gamma-class ship jumped to hyperspace, aiming for the opposite side of Volus, to appear opposite the side with the station and so circumvent much of the security in place and allow them to raid the shipping nearby.

The hangar bay was massive; much larger than similar Venator-class Destroyers he'd served on, and that was the first sign he'd noticed that there would indeed need to be changes made. As they reached the turbolift, he allowed his escort to disembark first, then followed the man into the lift with his stormtroopers in tow. "This is quite a ship, if I do say so myself. I'd be the first to admit, I'm taken aback by the size of it."

The turbolift ride went by faster than he'd noticed, and soon Lyons was on the bridge, his strides measured as he cast a glance at the various technical officers working away below them. Up ahead, facing away from them and staring out the viewport, was a man Tristan surmised was the Volusian Admiral. Flanked by his Stormtrooper escort, Lyons came to within five feet of the man before stopping and clearing his throat uncomfortably.

Tristan Lyons
Captain of the Inherent Justice

The captain of the Avenger didn't seem pleased to see him, and excused himself. Hurd, though, was cordial, or as cordial as he could be under the circumstances. "Captain Lyons," he nodded to him, "I'm sorry I wasn't able to greet you a moment ago, but as you can see we've had a bit of an incident. If you'll pardon me for just a moment," he added, apologetically, as he turned back to the communications console. "Right," he said to the ensign over whose shoulder he was leaning, "have tractor beam B-3 get a hold of that starfighter." He waited a moment until the ensign confirmed that this had been done, then nodded and turned, once more, to Lyons. The Admiral carried himself well. With his hands held regally behind his back and his uniform immaculate, he could have been mistaken for an Imperial officer if, in fact, his uniform weren't that of the Volusian Navy. That, and he boasted a beard that, one imagined, only a man of some seniority could get away with.

"I'm Gregor Hurd," he introduced himself to Lyons with a bow of his head, but then gestured the Captain's attention to the communications console. "I could actually use your assistance, if you wouldn't mind," he said. He pointed to the identification code that the ARC-170 had broadcast to them a moment earlier, and stepped back so that the Captain could have a good look at it. "As far as you know, is this a valid identification? Mind you, the computer will interface with your rank cylinder, if you'd care to verify it for us." He glanced out the viewport where the ARC-170, now held in the thrall of one of the tractor beams, hovered a safe distance from the Avenger, pointed away from it. "I hope my suspicion is misplaced," he explained to Lyons, "but this fighter has reported a loss of cabin pressure, but we've swept the craft and detected no such thing. I've seen pirates pull tricks of this sort before, although I'll concede it's certainly unlikely pirates would attempt to board this vessel."

A pair of Volusian starfighters cruised past the viewport in formation, patrolling near the stricken fighter as, in the distance, the Corellian Corvette was returning from its ill-fated pursuit of the Z-95. Hurd's suspicion probably was, indeed, misplaced, he thought to himself. He had been too suspicious lately; namely of the delays in the Avenger's renovations. A time saving plan to remove the vessel's turrets—as required by recent Imperial law—had been raised in the Prefecture, and despite Hurd's endorsement of this plan, it was defeated in favor of a more comprehensive renovation plan that included replacement weaponry and updates to the ship's software. The Admiral didn't oppose these things, of course. But it tripled the amount of time it would take to renovate the ship into compliance, well past the required deadline. Compliance was Hurd's first priority. Then, naturally, the improvements to the Avenger that he desired as much as anyone. Alas, the comprehensive plan won through, largely with the support of those Prefects who were traditionally close to Crin Star, an old colleague of Hurd's and now the planet's Senator. Oh well, he thought. He certainly couldn't fault her for wanting to do what was best for Volus, and its navy.

But, as the officer in charge of renovating the Avenger, it did occur to him that he would be held responsible for any delays—even those that were forced upon him. But even if he was suspicious of this (it also occurred to him that the longer, comprehensive renovation plan could have been intended simply to create more jobs for Volus, which many of the Prefects had argued in favor of), he had little reason to be suspicious of this ARC-170. Still, he hadn't become an Admiral, and survived the Clone Wars, by being incautious.

There were matters that needed his immediate attention, however, and Tristan quickly made his way over to the communications area at Hurd's behest. "This doesn't make any sense..." he added, waiting for the verification cross-check of the damaged fighter. "Did they say what their purpose was?"

Tristan Lyons
Captain of the Inherent Justice