Qui-gon looked around the immense vessel as they floated through on repulsors, being pulled by what looked like large droids, though on closer observation, there were people inside, driving the things. The hangar was stunningly large, containing racks upon racks of ships like the two escorts, in addition to several other varieties. He had noticed, on arrival, that the hangar door he was entering was one of many, more than he could count in a short time. The deck he was hovering over was the middle deck though. It had enough clearance that he could probably have stood on top of the cruiser and had room to wave his arms without touching the top. On top of that, the proximity sensors registered at least two meters of clearance from the deck. That was as much clearance as the hangar in the Lucrehulk, which only had one flight deck.
The walkers stopped, cables going taut in the opposite direction and stopping him quickly. A voice rang through the comm station, "Please land and deactivate your engines."
Qui-gon nodded for the pilot to do so, before rushing down to the access ramp, pulling on his robe and tucking his pony-tail over his left shoulder where it would be out of the way.
Standing on the ramp, he pressed the button with the Force, and waited as it lowered to the deck. The first thing to hit him was the overwhelming odor of oil. Specifically vehicular. Not unexpected, as the ship appeared to be a warship, and probably was filled with machines that needed it. He crossed his arms in front of him, showing that he held no weapons, and glanced out at a steep angle, the ramp casing still blocking his vision. There were booted feet, dressed in a peculiar camouflage pattern made of reds, yellows, oranges, and blacks. They stretched across the chamber, according to his senses.
A loud voice called out as his chin reached the point where it would be visible, "PRESAHNT!"
The ship no longer blocked his line of sight of hundreds, or possibly thousands, of camouflaged soldiers, backed by the five meter tall walkers and wheeled vehicles with more troops standing on them, "AHRMS!"
Guns snapped into a salute, moving through a presentation as booted feet and metal footpads slammed into the deck in a double stomp. The echo made his head ring, but he made no sign of that. Instead, he searched for the shouting man, probably the leader of this army, wherever they were from. As much as he abhorred war, he knew it was necessary, and thus within his duty to provide aid if necessary. Even now though, a shadow of doubt in his head made him want to turn and tell the pilot to get them the hells off this ship.
He located the man he was looking for, dressed in a black uniform trimmed with gold and tied with a brilliant crimson sash. The man held a sword that had to weigh ten kilograms over his head, and at his side, his coat-sleeve was wrapped around what looked like an elbow-length grey boxing glove that forced the sleeve to be held closed by black leather cord that still revealed the grey glove.
_POVSHIFTPOV_
Obi-wan slipped out of the vents in the hangar, looking at the immense landers waiting to be launched. He had to get off this ship and figure out how to get to Naboo and inform the Queen that the negotiations could not take place. Also, he figured that the fact they had an invasion army ready was somewhat important.
_POVSHIFTPOV_
Scylla looked at the man who stepped off the vessel. A peasant, by dress, but he carried himself like a noble. Perhaps a healer who had given up his noble trappings to help those in need. He lowered his chainsword, tucking the serrated teeth into a broad backless sheath as the hand-guard locked into the upper part at his belt. His left arm was still weighed down by his power-fist, but he didn't want to take the heavy prosthetic off and make himself look weak to this unknown. After all, Inquisitors had two arms, two legs, and two eyes beneath their hat. He strode forward, long legs taking him up to the man. He stopped, realizing just how much his seven foot height towered over the newcomer. He knew he towered over the Guardsmen, at an average of six feet tall, but this man couldn't be more than five six.
He raised his right hand above his head, dropping it in a move designed to slide his sleeve back and reveal his bare forearm before lowering it in greeting. After a few moments, the man did the same, revealing a bare, completely hairless arm. Scylla gripped the man's forearm, and the man imitated him, as though he had never greeted like that before.
"Welcome to the Hand Of Nicolaites. I am Lord Inquisitor Daniel Scylla of his Unceasing honor's loyal Ordos."
_POVSHIFTPOV_
Qui-gon stared at the giant for a long moment. Not one word of what he had said was false, as far as the giant was concerned, but none of it made sense. Nonetheless, Qui-gon imitated the flowing introduction, "Master Jedi Qui-gon Jinn, of the Republic Ordos. I wish this meeting was under better circumstance."
The giant looked confused, and tightened his grip on Qui-gon's arm, "What do you mean?"
"Had you jumped to any other system, aid would be immediate, and you would be being escorted to the nearest shipyard, but this system is currently under an unlawful blockade. As such, all outgoing communications are being blocked, and no aid can be summoned."
More confusion, "Is not your vessel a medicae transport?"
"No, Lord Inquisitor," the words rolled off his tongue, but not his mind. He didn't think the inquisition still existed, "We are an ambassadorial vessel who were on approach to negotiations for this blockade's departure when you arrived. I came to see if any aid could be provided, in order to make a case for the Trade Federation to allow a message out, a request for aid, primarily for the planet, though your vessels would not be left out."
"I see," the inquisitor released Qui-gon, "We seem to have everything under control here though. Few casualties that could not be salvaged. Data is still inbound from our escorts, but we suspect much the same story from them." A terrifying smile grew across the inquisitors lips, "However, I believe we can assist with this little blockade, provided, that is, if you can tell us where in this Warp damned galaxy we are."
Qui-gon shuddered instinctively, feeling with the Force at what this was, and sensing a great deal of nothing. No trace of the Dark side. No malice whatsoever. Merely a cold practicality. Eliminate blockade, free comm routes, get aid. That, and the man didn't even seem to take any time to debate whether his ship, having lost several men, judging by the words he used, was still able to handle forcing a blockade of fifteen Lucrehulks to leave peacefully, "Well, right now you are in orbit of Naboo," at a confused stare, he added, "six degrees spinward of Coruscant and three hundred light-years out from the Galactic core."
_POVSHIFTPOV_
Apparently they weren't entirely lost. He had never heard of Naboo, but that wasn't surprising, given the distance from the core. Judging by the name of the unfortunately located Coruscant, he did some quick math in his head, determining roughly where Holy Terra should be. With one hand, he signaled to the man that he needed to Vox navigation, "Navigation, this is Inquisitor Scylla. I have our approximate coordinates. Have any of the Psykers located the Astronomicon?"
A resounding negative made him grind his teeth, but he released the Vox-bead and turned back to the Master Jedi, "I believe we can offer some assistance, yes. Do you have any fightercraft of your own?"
"Honestly," the Jedi shrugged, "I haven't a clue. My next stop after the attempted negotiations was going to be the capitol, in Theed, to examine the options. Unfortunately, the blockade is preventing my vessel from enterin…"
The Vox crackled and Scylla grabbed the microphone, "Hello?"
_POVSHIFTPOV_
Nute Gunray was not a brave creature. Even for a Nemoidian, he could be considered cowardly, but he had had the Jedi on his ship turned to dust, now it was time to contact this small swarm of ships. He scanned for the frequency his ships were not using, and located it after several minutes. The speaker crackled, and a gravelly voice muttered "He…o?"
"Greetings. My name is Nute Gunray, and I am the commander of this fleet. Unfortunately, you have come at a very bad time."
"I a..ell aw… I ha…di he… …ays yo…e bl…cka…nlaw…l."
"No, no, not at all. This blockade is completely legal. The planet refused to pay the full transport fee."
_POVSHIFTPOV_
"I think he's lying. Was anything said about trade commissions in the reason for the blockade?" Scylla scowled. Something about the voice, crackled and distorted as it was, made him visualize a sniveling weasel of a man with a permanent cold. Clearly lying.
"I do not believe so, I have a holo of the discussion though. I am fairly certain I examined it from every possible angle on the flight here from Coruscant."
Scylla held his hand out for the holo disk. When he received it, it looked nothing at all like the ones he was familiar with. Something bigger was going on, but for now, he had to look like he knew exactly what he was doing. He found the button to turn it on and pressed it, closing his right eye as he did so. His thickened eyelid, with a microscopic Auspex built into it showed him a level of detail in the device and holo that Qui-gon could never imagine.
Three seconds later, he returned the device to Qui-gon's hand and pressed his finger to his collar, "Prepare to slaughter the Xenos wholesale. Leave the ships intact, we need hardware for repairs."
Qui-gon stared, unsure if Inquisitor Scylla intended to actually commit an act of war, or make the Nemoidians leave. His next words though, they were more reassuring, "Master Jinn, my fleet will clear out this blockade for you. We promise a minimal casualty count."
He pressed the intership Vox, "Lord Gunray, I apologize for the intrusion into your blockade space, and will depart as soon as necessary maintenance is performed." Not technically a lie. Purging Xenos was preventative maintenance.
_POVSHIFTPOV_
Obi-wan stared at the forest in front of him, watching it flattened behind the massive tanks the Trade Federation was deploying. His comm-link rose to his mouth instinctively, "Master, I believe we have a problem. The Nemoidians tried to gas me, then deployed an invasion army to the southern hemisphere. I know they are still blocking the cruiser from entering north-hemisphere airspace, but I believe they have mostly ignored the southern hemisphere. After all, there's no way around the planet on foot in the time they need."
The comm-link squawked at him, "Obi-wan, stay where you are. I will be joining you shortly, along with someone who might be able to help with the blockade problem. The commander of these ships has offered some of his fightercraft to help break the blockade. He just wants to discuss it with the Queen first."
Obi-wan sighed into the device and leapt up into a tree where he had a relatively safe vantage point to wait and watch.
AN: So, what do you think?