Log:Alderaan: Cophrigin Nights III
A Baron's Counter Attack
OOC Date: September 14, 2020
Location: Belleau-a-Kiirium, Cophrigin IV, Ash Worlds
Participants: Ban Iskender, Elrych Cometburn, Vhe Tenara, Zandra naMuriel, Rathe Versiano, Aryn Cole, New Alderaan
Belleau-a-Kiirium, Cophrigin IV, Ash Worlds Formerly Alderaanian Territory (Under SFS Occupation)
Belleau-a-Kiirium is the jewel of the Ash World, Cophrigin IV. Grand architecture and wide streets were once shielded from the dust storms now have begun to threaten to erase any sign of civilization. It is eerie quiet here, aside from the marching percussion of passing automaton patrols and the occasional flying droid. At the heart of the city sits the Iskender palace, a looming shadow in the night, occupied by the bulk of the droid forces.
Sneaking into the city was an endeavor led by the native of the small strike team, Lord Ban Iskender. Their goal was to reach the palace, and they achieved just that, sliding into the lower levels. Aryn is the last one to land amid the group, stumbling when her boots struck stone. The room they are in is dark; it's a store room with a secret exit. The irony is lost on Aryn when she squints her eyes to look around. "An odd place to infiltrate the palace.." She comments, adjusting her mask which protected her nose and mouth from the dust.
<<"Lord Bheylin, we have successfully infiltrated the palace.. a .. store room?">> Aryn sends back, receiving a reply from the Baron in the form of a chuckle initially. <<"(Chuckling) Worst kept secret in the palace.-- You need to make your way to the throne room.. there may be a lot of droids between you and the relay.">>
Elrych drops into the storage room, his robes flapping around until he lands steadily on his feet. His brows narrow as he glances around, confused slightly. "No kidding..." He echo's Aryn before trying to reach out in the Force and see /through/ the walls. Alas, his skill in such wizzardry had yet to be truly tried and tested. He failed.
Being cautious, he pulls his darkstar and angle shine cylindrical lightsaber from his belt, yet does not ignight it. He loosk back towards the drop in to see if anyone else might need help.
Vhe is amongst those intrepid infiltrators and she herself is giving the storm room a study. She sweeps about the room with a curious tilt of her head and the thick braid that hides her riotous hair within its confines sways down her back. The teal sleeveless robe shows off the leather bracers at her lower arms, tooled with symbols that belong to the Ysanna. She listens as the comms come to life in her ear and she glances to Aryn before her eyes stray to Ban. "Droids. Thank goodness," she remarks. Whether its because she finds them easier to face or something else it is hard to say. The odd man out in their group gets a look and a half smile.
SHe is not far behind Elrych in preparing for the leather bound brass hilt is drawn from her hip as the beaded cording that holds the large fang at the end of it swings slightly.
"Her Excellency always was given to such ..practical theatrics," Ban notes of the old secret passage with a dry smile briefly bending his solemn expression. Sword drawn, <<"Understood, Baron. We are underway.">> Stepping to access the hidden passage, the nobleman offers a short bow and 'right this way' flourish with one arm. "What palace would be complete without a hidden passage?"
Zan makes it down as well, perhaps a little slower than she previously might. She makes a face, rubbing at her arm, and stays quiet, just listening for the moment. One hand goes to her lightsaber attached at her belt, and tilts her head. A smile crosses her face as she listens, her gaze flicking as much as she can, back and forth as various folks speak. A nod of her head, and she simply waits, reaching for the Force as she has a moment to do so.
The trip was a very quiet one for Rathe. He spent it surrounded by Jedi, Jedi that were not trying to maim him for life. This was a new experience, one that occured as he likes to finish jobs. This place nearly claimed Hadrix, who has his own destiny for the moment. Also the best way to get a Doctor to allow you to learn from them directly... is to do them a favor. Rathe is ok with playing war medic on this journey, he is just unsettled in the process. He is not as silent as his robe wearing counterparts. The moment his boots are on the ground, up comes the tracker off his shoulder sling. He does a very quick equipment check on the gear welded to his armor in places, Medpac on the right thigh, Vibrosword sheath to the left outer calf, vibrodagger on his chest. There's also always the backup flamer slung on his back. He's come prepared for war.
"Just how many people knew about this exit," asked Aryn in a hushed voice to Ban, but the joke was beyond her and her mind shifted to the task ahead. The secret passage opened at Ban's urging, the way still dark but clearly a wide corridor. It's quiet in the palace, and dark.. very dark. What once had been the beating heart of a city barely carried the percussive clanking steps of marching droids up ahead. The patrol had not noticed the team.
Through the Force, or by optics (depending on who had what) the group discerned a patrol of some fifteen (15) droid soldiers. Laser red contrails cut through the dust as their robotic craniums scanned and marched.
Elrych stays low, even as the lasers start to move around, searching the hallways for intruders. Intruders like them. If Elrych was more skilled with the Force and not so deadset on certain aspects of it because it was the fastest way to whatever goal he had set for himself, he might have been able to turn them against each other. That would waste more energy than just sticking to the basics. He pushes at one of the droids with the force, sending it back and onto the floor hard, thumb pressing the red button of his blade and bringing his saber to life. The humm is almost whispered, not as deep a blue as Aryns and certainly not as pale as Vhe's... yet still a magnificant neon.
The Force wells within Vhe and she curls her fingers just as Elrych slams a droid into the ground. As he holds it down she reaches out and with a twist of her hand pops the head free with a few more sparks and jerking motions from the machine. She glances to the other Jedi and nods as her pale blue cuts the air with a tight almost soft hum sound. Its nearly quiet as she sweeps forward, the blade swinging ready as she prepares to close the distance between and cut down the rest with the fierce blade.
She shifts on her feet in that moment, her back turning and she presses into the floor as her muscles tense and she finds purchase against the tile.
"Lord Bheylin was not in jest when calling it an ill-kept secret," Ban notes to Aryn with tight amusement. "Fewer knew where the passage emerged; the Viscountess had circulated a rumor that it ended in the Viceroyal spaceport, to distract those who might-" His discreet commentary is delayed as the first troop of foes treads through the darkness ahead. The sword in hand is lit with the touch of a button, and the Cophrigin native sets to a soldier's work. A trio of mechanical soldiers are swiftly rendered to scrap.
Zan can see the droids as well, having shifted her senses slightly when she reached for the Force. Her lightsaber is ignited, and she slams into battle, along with her fellows. Her saber shines green, showing well enough in the darkness, but that still gives enough light for her to see where she is, and to slash up one droid, miss her second shot, and then slash down another. "At least it's droids," is her only comment.
His current lack of speech to the Jedi party isn't personal, well isn't all personal. It is because he's trying to avoid broadcasting too loud to the droid greeting party. There's always a greeting party sooner or later. His HUD starts lighting up as the red lasers start tracing through all the dust. Droid greeting party! This is something he is designed to handle... right after his visor finishes polarizing from the sudden rave of Jedi Glowsticks lighting up. HUD contacts start vanishing as soon as they light up thanks to the abilities of the Jedi before him. The former Vanguard's hairs raise along his arms. Instincts and training are far more easily suppressed than the past. Sabers start swinging, leaving him a few targets focused on the Jedi. Two quick professional blaster bolts end two droids as he advances slowly forwards. All the return fire makes him realize he is a little exposed, so cover is sought next.
Aryn is listening to Ban intently until it is suddenly time for action. Left in the wake of the other more capable, Aryn unhooks her lightsaber and activates it in a quick action. She attempts to go after a pair of droids near the back of the column, but their mechanical motion to reorient cast her off balance and she falls to one side; the lightsaber deactivating and clanking off to the side. They fire in her direction and she raises her arms to shield her face as both shots go wide, sparking off the wall and dropping an old portrait of a distant great, great cousin to shatter around Aryn! "Ack!!!" She reflexively draws her own blaster to fire back.
The droids pivot to engage the strike team, tracking them efficiently and opening fire. In close quarters, the sound of blasters discharging is loud. <"Engaging!"> One droid issues, running after and firing at the group. It is replied to by the surviving droids. <"Roger. Roger.">
Elrych glances towards Vhe and gives her a knowing smirk before turning and engaging the droids at close range with his saber. The ancient weapons easily cuts through his first two targets, cutting one in half at the torso, the machine sparking and glowing molton orange at the sliced area. He spins the blade and remove a right Leg of another, sending that one to the ground with too many error reports to return to battle. He slices lazily at another but it was slow enough to avoid even for a computer brain. "I think they upgraded their programing..." He offers to the others.
As the Jedi and their unknown quantity shred through the droids, Vhe realizes the blade is likely to give her more advantage and stepping forward and twisting about, the first blade strike is too short but the next lops off a head and sends it skittering as the body collapses in on itself and pings and clangs to the floor.
She comes about and stepping into another she misses her next target of intention and glances aside at the others, making sure their motions are like a well timed dance and that she has no collateral damage.
Ban Iskender misses a mechanical soldier with his first cut, chasing it down with a dash and second swing, before impaling another with a long stepping lunge. The destruction of an abandoned portrait of a forgotten ancestor causes one eye to narrow and the corner of his mouth to curl upward in a small smile as the last of the patrol is cut down. A hand is offered to aid Aryn in rising, should she wish it, a nod to Zan follows. "Well struck, mistress naMuriel."
Zan continues to attack, keeping with her team. She watches to make sure nobody is being left behind, as they continue their trek through the droids. Yes, that includes Rathe too. The young Jedi flashes a grin at Ban, as they both slash through the last remaining droids. "And you as well, Lord Ban," she says easily.
Droids, they do not make for glorious war, but they can put a pretty large dent in your breathing capacity. Rathe is shifting to make himself a smaller out of the way target by instinct. He cannot deflect incoming blaster bolts, and there were many. The Tracker tucked into his shoulder his sights shift target to... downed target. His vox does crackle pop into life with a brief sigh. It's one of dissapointment of all things. With all the droids down, no sense in hanging around. A quick check of the HUD map, Rathe is now crouch walking forwards looking down the sights of the blaster carbine. He states the obvious, just in case anyone misses the semi-large Mandalorian Dreadfinder armor moving ahead. <"Advancing.">
Aryn accepts Ban's gloved hand to rise again. "Thanks," She says sheepishly and turns her attention once he releases her hand. A subtle gesture draws the discarded hilt back to her hand, but instead of activating the blade, she stores it back on her belt. She gives Ban a nod and yields to allow him to take the lead once more. Thankful for the darkness, Aryn hides her red cheeks and trails after her companions in thoughtful silence, staying near Rathe.
The way forward took them up a series of large/wide staircases. They emerged into the great foyer where a tall ceiling stretched into darkness, but its stained glass saw moonlight rays crisscross in a speckled manner as dust swirled. The throne room was through a massive set of doors. These doors are closed, and a squad of twenty (20) droids clank into place to cut the strike team off. They raise their rifles noisily and begin to open fire.
Aryn takes cover behind one of several hundred massive stanchion pillars and raises her blaster up in preparation.
Elrych comes to a stop on the foyer with the others, the doors opening and presenting the cadre of droids. Twirling his blade around in a skilled fashion, he takes a deep breath and rushes into the blaster fire isntead of taking any kind of fire. His elegant yet unpredictable swings, a flury of blue blades to untrained eyes, slice quickly through three droids, cutting them completely in half. Metal clanks onto the ground loudly as they drop. "Maybe not..." He says about the upgrades.
Sweeping in with Elrych, Vhe is no where near his skill but she's putting the effort forth. This is going to be a tidal wave of droids it would seem for as they down the next several, there is another group and she makes a face as she smacks into one, cleaving through it as she stumbles over it and her next few strikes are more out of hopeful necessity. She lifts her blade, cursing below her breath.
Her foot gets caught in the arm of the droid she first took down and she narrows her gaze, crying out as she nearly falls on her face and into her lightsaber. GRACEFUL!
Ban Iskender gives a short nod to Aryn as he steps to move into the entry hall with the others. While some take to cover, Van raises his green bladed sword in a short, sharp salute, and walks into a sprint toward the formation of foes.
Even the recently blooded Kora cannot deny there is a certain beauty in the great foyer. On rare occasions Rathe can actually enjoy new and interesting sights like a normal human. But doors are blocked by a wall of droids clanking forwards, and he is at War once again. Aryn takes cover behind a pillar and prepares. Rathe nods towards the Doctor and imitates her. Sidestepping right and forewards in a shuffle step of boots scraping noisily at the flooring.
With the Tracker leaned out around the pillar to sight, Rathe bides his time to not fire into his allies. The saber colors and exposed backs brings dark whispers in the former Vanguard. Old memories crying out to fire not at the droids. Rathe crushes that instinct with a furious will, he is Kora now. Those are allies that are relying on his judicious marksmandship, and possibly wound patching later. The tracker barks once, and a droid fals, the second time and his shot is not even close. The old memory out of the blue had an effect, a deep breath and he forces everything but the current fight from his mind as he leans back behind the pillar of blaster deflecting.
It's a bit of a dusty walk, and then into a big open spot with some moonlight? And ... more droids. "We do make the best of friends," Zan says with a hint of a smile. She doesn't dodge for cover, instead making sure to attack. She's intent on shrinking the numbers of the droids that are attacking, as much as she can. She then catches sight of some blaster fire that is heading her way, only because she's turned the right way while fighting her initial two targets. She moves to try to deflect, but is too slow, getting the blaster bolt across her arm. "Ow," she mutters, switching the lightsaber over to her other hand.
Aryn returns Rathe's nod, then pies her pillar, extending one arm forward to present the muzzle of her blaster toward the droids. She fires, misses, fires again and tags one droid square in the chest chassis, spinning it about in a shower of sparks that left it on the ground. A third shot sparks off a far off wall, and Aryn ducks behind cover just as another droid retaliates to fire at her. The bolt sparks off the pillar and Aryn flinches, cradling her head instinctively.
Droids hold their ground, advancing forward and trying to surround the Jedi who have engaged them. It is a common tactic when fighting Jedi, to surround them and overwhelm them with fire. <"Die Jedi scum!"> One droid in-tones in a nasally voice. Another echoes <"Roger. Roger.">
Elrych weaves in and out of the return fire as if he knew exactly where every blaster bolt would go and land. It was uncanny, unnatural in the oddest sort of way. His blade VROOOOMPed as it nearly cut off the head of the droid he had missed earlier, backing the machine up towards the door as he advanced agressivly, his feet shuffling skillfully. Finally the blade lobs off the head, sending it sparking and clanking to the ground. He spins and carves his mephite crystal blade through the leg of another, sending it collapsing to the ground as well.
Blue eyes find Zandra as she lets out a yelp of pain. "You alright Violet?" He asks, a glance to Vhe.
The yelp of pain is what brings Vhe around quickly, her saber lashing out as she twists through the first, the strike thrust though it before she tears it through, leaving dripping metal before she turns her hips and severs it completely as it slams into the ground and she brings her saber down hard at the shoulder of the droid.
She caves it in and the last strike is flung to the side blindly and misses btu she catches the sound that Zan makes nad her head glances back over her shoulder checking on all of those in attendance.
Zan's arm is hurting, but she takes a very deep breath, eyes watering. "This is not over yet," she says, as she raises her other hand, and continues the fight. For those who did not know, it seems that Zandra is in fact ambidextrous, and she's now using that ability to stride forward, spinning as she slashes one head off. "Flesh wound," she adds, in case there was doubt. The spin finishes, and her saber misses the second shot, but comes around with a wicked curve to slice through a droid torso like butter.
The trusty pillar takes a bolt meant for his face. Rathe shakes his head trying to get himself back into the fight mentally right and proper. A cry of 'Ow' attracts attention. Rathe's head turns towards the violet haired Jedi. The visor stares at the hair color again a moment. Then he opens his comm to all of them, trying not to tell the whole clanker squad he's the medic in the process. <<"Just say when, step into cover, and I will deal with your wounds.">>. With that, Rathe steps back around the pillar and takes two rapid shots. Closer misses this time, still misses. He ducks back behind the pillar in time to keep from taking a bolt. He debates taking a new pillar, in fact. He will do exactly that to advance the next time he starts shooting.
Aryn, still a bit disoriented from the loud noise of bolts impacting her pillar, manages to round the otherside and fire back. Two missed shots are followed through with a third that finally hits its mark and spills another droid back. Aryn ducks back to her cover and takes a moment to think.
Not many droids remain in the squad, and they are falling back. Clanking foot steps take them toward the throne room doors, pushing them wide to reveal an even larger room with stained glass that is missing portions of its arrangement.
Moonlight crisscrossed in the room showering it in a lunar shade of eerie pale white with the occasional whistle of wind and sudden gust of dust from the spire where the stained glass is ruined.
Dark rugs mark the path down the center of this massive ceremonial room, and the trickling of fountains was still heard (one each for the Mother and the Father ((Religious)). Banners of House Iskender still drape from the loft and rafters caught in the idle winds, and the light hits the throne where the green cloak of Ban's late father is still draped, clasped in place over the spine of the tall throne, its brooch glittering in the light.
While the scenery is captivating, it does not dominate the threat. Four droids retreat into the center of the room, taking cover behind flipped tables. Meanwhile, a massive droid near the relay station that has been set up to hug one wall, rises up to its 15ft height and glowing red eyes. <"I have direct control,"> the mechanical voice says, its eyes changing from red to orange. The droid steps heavily toward the center of the room drawing not one, not two, not three; four vibro blades, one for each hand.
<"You Jedi shall go no further. The odds favor meeeee."> Roars the droid, as the soldiers level their rifles and open fire as well.
Elrych pauses a moment as the large droid engages to it's full height. He shakes his head, "Never tell me the odds." He glances towards Ban, "Come on Lord Bang... let's rock." Then he's off and a lightning speed slashing at the large droid, his first two attack avoided, yet he's able to stick it on the the third, burying the blade deep in it's armor.
Even as Elrych rushes towards the platform, Vhe is quick to choose. She stands her ground and helps to give him space to attack. She slams her blade into the center of the chest of one and flipping the blade down and back sne shet urns and slams the blade along the side of the legs of another as it falls to the ground. She misses the next buts he keeps it occupied by just being near it.
She glances up and back at the others, a smile twisting her lips up as the group begins to take out the platform.
"I daresay it's probability matrix requires adjustment," Ban reflects dryly as the massive droid declares the odds to be in its favor. He'd fled the city with the rest of his people and had long since made his leave with the paltry items that had been left behind. To those with a sense beyond sight, there is still a wave of melancholy as he passes through the ruins of his former home, and spies the throne with it's fluttering ornament. <<"Baron Bheylin, we have reached the throne room. The relay will be down shortly.">> The report is made as he walks toward the looming droid with it's four blades. A sniff and nod to Elrych without looking away from their opponent as he repeats the sharp motions of a salute. "As you say, master Cometburn. Try not to smash the throne when its shattered ruin falls to the floor."
Zan opens her mouth and then closes it. Ban's comment sparks a grin. She also turns to see where Rathe is. "Got that, friend," she says. "But first things first." There is a kindness in her voice perhaps at odds with her attack as she moves in against that huge AI monster thing. "I suspect you are correct," she says, as she also swings, her blade being used to try to whittle down their opponent. "One bit at a time, even the biggest of things can fall."
The throne room holds little for Rathe, he's clamping back down on his human nature and turning back inward to singular focus upon war. No more distractions... except for the giant quad vibroblade droid. <"Huh. That's new."> While his inner swordsman cries out for that particular challenge, to draw his Vibrosword and charge it, the logical center of his brain wins this round. Let the Jedi enjoy that one, he can do other things. Like miss a droid, but take another one out of existence. He's moving forwards at an angle away from the tables trying to flank the last droid to leave the AI for the Jedi.
Aryn holsters her pistol and draws her lightsaber to join her companions in battle. While they take to the massive AI, Aryn follows Rathe and Vhe's lead to drop the soldiers. When she went after one soldier, it ducked, tumbled, then flipped a table to cut her advance off from it. All three swings end in failure, and while Aryn had sought to help her team out, she earned the attention of the massive AI. In a flurry of vibroblades, Aryn wasn't sure where to move and as a result took a devastating hit across the torso from one of the blades as the droid stepped heavily.
<"You speak truly! HAHAHA! One of your number down; Jedi SCUM!"> The droid laughed louder as Aryn fell backward and her lightsaber deactivated. She was out of the fight. The AI moved after the others now, its eyes focused on recording their movements. The AI learned quickly, and Ban spoke to its probability matrix needing adjustment. Learning was occurring.
Elrych watches Aryn get hit. His instinct is to go after her to make sure she's alright... yet he knows that there was still and danger here. Facing the Fifteen Foot machanical monstrosity once more, he angles his blade above his head, the tip of his sword pointing down towards his opponant. His face sets in a stern line, "Oh shut up..." He says, charging fowards. The first swing carves through one of the platforms supports, before he jumps up onto it, cutting it's central nexus. The droid starts to fall, with Elrych riding it as it does, stabbing his blade deep into it's core.
The last droid is still standing and she huffs out a breath as she stares at the thing. She closes the distance without another thought. Her saber cuts the air with a twist of her wrist and with her other hand braced at the back of the hilt wshe slams the blade deep and watches it protrude the other side. She pulls up her saber and flips it into the air catching is as it comes down and twisting about to hear the thing land with her saber pointed down and at the side. her chest rises and falls quickly as she looks to Zan and then Elrych before approaching the former with saber still lit.
"I trust you can move?" There is concern of course as she stands ready to lend her aid.
The sense of sadness Ban had felt to this point flashes toward futile anger as the largest foe leaps clear of their swords to strike Aryn. Elrych makes swift work of the heavily damaged droid. In the next instant, Vhe finishes off the lesser droids and attends Zan, leaving Ban to snap aloud, "Locate and destroy the relay!" as he hastens toward the wounded Alderaanian royal. "How fares your Highness?" he prompts of Aryn, seeking to reach out with the Force to soothe the effect of the war droid's strike, but his senses remain muddied in regret. Only once objectives are met and the wounded attended will his green eyes return to the throne. Armored boots bear him up the dais, and the young nobleman collects the old cloak together with its tarnished broach.
One of the AI's blades finally strikes true, and Rathe observes Aryn to go down. He's torn, fight, or do his other job. He's on the move, the tracker dopped on it's sling to cradle against his chest. He's taking cover by Aryn even as Elrych rides the big boy droid to the ground. Rathe keeps hands up palms out a second. <"Stabbing me is counter productive, she needs some batca patches and stitching, not..."> He waves hands about spasmodically. Rathe is clearly mocking force users now of all times. But he bends to his task rapidly, and he is not unskilled in this. <"That scored deep, this will sting."> The Dreadfinder armor has clearly been modified for this kind of work. Rathe makes quick work of stitching a few spots within Aryn's wound, for the rest, bacta-foam and sealant. He slaps a couple patches on there for good measure. <"Stabilized. Estimated recovery from Fourty Six to Seventy percent effectiveness."> He doesn't wait around for Professor Coles assessment, he has a Zandra to work on. The blaster bolt burn to the arm is a little more straight forwards. The visor glances up to the robed ones violet hair, and bends back to work with a brief shake of his head. This wound too, is sealed against further dust contaimination by bacta patches. <"That will be fully recovered by tomorrow."> He steps back so Zandra can go to town on a relay.
With all the remaining droids down, Zan looks to Aryn. Ban's headed that way, so she smiles to Vhe. "I'm good," she says, a little tightly. Then Ban calls out about the relay and she startles a bit. Right! The mission wasn't to kill the big ugly droid. There's a medic at her side, so she stays still long enough for Rathe to do his thing. It doesn't take long, he's efficient. She walks over to the relay, eyes it for a moment, and then she simply starts beating it with her lightsaber. She's no Kylo Ren, but she's quite determined this relay will never ever relay again. "Destruction under way," she pants. Her right arm is sore, and it hurts with each and every huge swing Zan uses, bacta and patching or no. But she doesn't stop until the relay is in pieces. "Relay is no longer operational." she reports, matter of factly.
Aryn is laid out on the ground by the time the massive AI clatters and falls over. Its dying voice in-tones <"This is... just the beginning..">
Aryn is not awake to answer Ban, her wound and the impact had been enough to render her unconscious, leaving an easy patient for Rathe to tend to.
Meanwhile, Baron Tai Bheylin's voice is heard over the comms.
<<"The Countess sends her regards you automaton piece of drek! Hahaha!-- We have begun our mission, Lord Ban.">> And so they have. From the goodly amount of windows in the throne room, they can see the dropships lower from the clouds and begin their descent into the city. Flying droids that once patrolled the streets fell from the sky unable to function without their signals. Ruby red lances from mounted guns opening up give visual proof that the Baron's men are engaged and destroying known troops left to the open.
A larger vessel sets down out in the courtyard, and the green-caped riders of the Dragoons begin to offload. It is not long before the doors to the throne room open again and the Dragoons make their way to the dais where Ban holds his father's cloak. The leading Dragoon dips his head and speaks. "We are ready to take back the city, my Lord. At your command.."
