Star Wars STAR WARS: INTERVENTION (A story-telling style OT starfighter game)---Always taking new players!

IC: Technician Flavin, Samantha Irisa, Sergeant Vestor, Corporal Loretta


Flavin sat heavily in the nearest bridge chair, and sighed heavily. "This is getting too fraggin chaotic. We need an officer on the bridge."

Samantha looked over, a bit irritated with her companion's insecurities. "Well, until someone is available, Tech Boy, you're it. So suck it up." Then she turned back to her task, broadcasting to one of the allied patrols out there. "This is the Delinquent. Can anyone out there do a fly past and see what damage we sustained to our hull, please?"

A blur of psuedomotion from outside the windows caught her attention, making her look up. "What was that?"

"Er, er," Flavin checked the sensors, "oh, the Sword of Justice just red-jumped." Her silence prompted him to clock her blank expression, and elaborate. "Jod ships don't use the same ultralight engines as everyone else, meaning that we can use something called Red Space to travel long distances."

He pointed to the console that she sat at, "If you can operate the public address, the crew deserve to know that she has gone."

"Hope they don't take it too badly." She leaned over the coloured shapes laid against the black plastic control panel.

* * * *

Main Hangar

Vestor turned as the movement of the heavy blast doors leading out into the corridor slid open, to admit the medical team, who moved imediately to kneel by the rolling or supine members of the crew that had gotten of worse in the artificial ship quake.

And the sergeant still had no idea what caused it.

"Palso-"

Vestor turned back to see that the newcomer had extended a hand in his direction for him to shake.

"...Jim Palso. Best smuggler this side of the timeline! Say, your direct approach hasn't changed much...err, I mean, won't change much. In the future that is. And of the Imperials? Which ones? Before the Battle of Yavin or after the Battle of Endor? Two completely different Empires we have there...and Rebel Alliances."

Vestor stared at the man in silence for a long moment. "A moment ago, you referred to 'Imperial space bunnies'. Now assuming you were not referring to actual bunnies; those Imperials."

He waited for a response, then brightened as the familiar sight of a black and chrome N-1 starfighter entered through the magcon field to his left, and steered to land on the far side of the shuttle that this Palso character had demanded not be moved.

"Ah-ha, here is Yav'!" He announced happily, stepping past the smuggler to see his friend - it was a bond formed in battle - then on seeing the loose red shirt, diagonally crossed with a black belt that went from shoulder to left hip, and variously supported a cutlass, blaster pistol and various accoutrements, he wondered, "What is he mugging people for their uniforms now? Is there a Naval Guard bound and gagged in a locker somewhere?"

"Th-this is the b-bridge. B-be advised, the Sword of Justice has d-departed. I repeat, the Sword of Justice is away."

Vestor nodded at the announcement, and watched as the woman in Navy red and black, that he had mis-identified as the elf, approached him and Palso, saluting respectfully.

"Corporal Loretta reporting for duty, Sergeant. I have orders to be Bridge Officer Bob's bodyguard and aide."

"Corporal." Vestor nodded at his colleague, then indicated the nutter. "This is Jim Palso, best smuggler this side of Timeline."

Her face instantly turned hostile. "I hate smugglers."

"G.R.F. Guardian Something Force, remember." He tried to remind her, referring to the acronym the King's post-humous address had asked them to sign-up for.

"Sorry, Sergeant. I love all smugglers, and I want to have their babies."

Vestor swivelled to Palso and deadpanned, "You didn't hear that."

Tag: Jim Palso, Kasumi, Havah Jeth, Fress Colias

 

IC: Beskaryc Taab
Crusader, Greater Javin Sector

As the Crusader pulled away Taab heard another transmission come in over the not so covert frquency 1313. “I don’t know Phoenix, for all we know this could be just a rescue mission due to a small blunder made by the elf. I have this feeling we’ll get the story from him. After all he did hi-jack the Delinquent with the staff still onboard. I can’t shake the feeling that I know this freighter, I know there is a lot of YT-1300s produced but this one seemed more familiar. I can’t remember from where. It’s what is causing me to have a really bad feeling,”

Ah someone wasn't observing proper COMSEC. But was it a mistake? Or was it purposeful, an attempt to deceive the Imperials being brought on board? Taab assumed they were still on the compromised channel, but it was possible they had already signed off. In any case Taab was recording the conversation as he made a habit of recording all transmissions that came to the Crusader.

“Looks like we’re meeting up with the SOJ at the hyperspace exit. Coordinates have been downloaded into our R two units."

SOJ? Taab looked to the TAC display and noticed one of the larger unkown ships moving off, perhaps preparing for a jump to hyperspace itself. Was this the vessel she was speaking about, or was she speaking of another one that her element was to meet with later?

"Spook, should we continue to scope out the system incase they come back or should we should meet up with the SOJ while she's still insystem?"

It probably was the vessel moving off then. He changed the notation of the unknown ship to [SOJ?] He didn't think this was an attempt at disinformation. It was coming across as too organic, not pre-planned at all. The next transmission, coming from the fighter that had threatened him, confirmed that to Taab. His guess that this was "Spook".

"Firecracker! Do you call off a sweep for listening bugs because you found one? We finish the job with a full sweep as there can be more then one, either until we have looked everywhere we were supposed to, all ally ships have left system, or the enemy arrives to kill us. Any questions?"

Yes, he was angry, either that or he deserved an award for acting. He also seemed to be the more seasoned of the group, though his words did hint at a level of chaos amongst the fighter group's chain of command. It also gave him the callsign of Lieutenant Sherland; Firecracker. But it didn't stop there.

“Only answered my questions about your personality type, Saber is downloading a new route to check while you were well lecturing over the comm. Did you really think I would’ve called off the search? Give me time to show you what I’m really capable of."

Taab grimmaced behind his T-Visor, so she was trying to prove herself it seemed. Either she was new to command, or she was new to the unit she was with. Perhaps both. Either way, transmitting
all of this over an open Imperial channel wouldn't sit well with her commanders once her mistake was discovered.

"I did make a convincing death scene fifteen years ago that fooled the Imperials into calling off the bounty.”

Now that was...interesting. As a former bounty hunter himself it certainly caught his attention. Thankfully he wasn't in the bounty hunting business anymore. Too much like police work, not enough like real soldiering for his taste. Still he filed it away for future consideration.

“Kriff. Spook, Phoenix, didn’t anyone realize which frequency we’re on? Don’t say anything further, switch back to the usual frequency.”

Oh that was too bad, seems "LT "Firecracker" Sherland had discovered their mistake.

He continued angling the Crusader away, getting the proper coordinates from the navi-computer for their own RV in the Ord Pardron system with the Hard Eight. He called down the the forward hold, which should be buttoned up by now. "Get ready, I am about to make the jump to hyper-space. Get our guests secured aft."

He reached for the controls to activate the hyperdrive when one last signal came through on freq 1313. Taab would have torn his buy'ce off to distance himself from the offensive noise had he not heard it before. Verpine Jizz Metal. He switched frequencies rapidly to avoid having to hear anymore. He was glad Atin wasn't in the cockpit at the moment. Ever since he had started using that Verpine shattergun, the kid had lapped up anything Verp in nature. He was always listening to this osik. Taab shook his head as if to erase the lingering echos of the "music" from his psyche and hit the hypersapce lever, sending the Crusader, its crew and their passengers on their way.

IC: Atin Taab
Forward Hold, Crusader

As the last member of the Imperial team was brought aboard Atin hit the controls to close the bay doors and re-presurize the bay. He still didn't know what frequency they were operating on, so they couldn't communicate just yet. That changed as soon as the control panel indicated full atmosphere back in the bay. He unsealed and removed his buy'ce, showing the troopers that it was safe to breath in here once again. He clipped the helmet to the back of his belt, leaving it to hang there as he retrieved a black beret and settled it on his head. He had taken it from a dead soldier back on SouthCont, his first trophy after buir had found him. He always wore it when his bucket came off, a reminder of where he came from.

"You can get out of those suits and stow your kit here. We are here to deliver you to an Imperial ship." He figured the Imperials would be studying him. Before he removed his buy'ce he would have appeared as a somewhat short, slender, Mandalorian. But now they would be able to see that he was just a teenager. While to most Mandalorians he was well past the age of being an adult, many aruetiise didn't see things that way. Soon he would undergo his right of passage and make his adulthood reality, whether an aruetii would see it or not. At least he hoped so, his father said he still had some training to do first.

He wondered why the Crusader hadn't jumped to lightspeed yet. Either buir had a reason or the Interdictor had created a mass shadow for them to evade first. Atin hoped it was the former, this mission was already starting to wear on him. Like his father, he hadn't really enjoyed all the sneaking around that it had required. Finally a message came down to the bay through the ship's intercom.

"Get ready, I am about to make the jump to hyper-space. Get our guests secured aft."

A moment later Atin felt the deck shift below them as the ship lurched forward, hurtling on its way into hyperspace.

TAG: Sith-I-5, Coffee_Ninja, Mitth_Fisto, JediFalcon

 

IC: Jim Palso
Hanger Bay, Delicate Delinquent


Vestor stared at the man in silence for a long moment. "A moment ago, you referred to 'Imperial space bunnies'. Now assuming you were not referring to actual bunnies; those Imperials."


"All just figure of speech, Sergeant," Palso replied, "Well, if your referring to any Imperials left on this vessel, I have no clue. The Empire is too vast at this point in the timeline. And this ship is one in hundreds or thousands of it's type in operation across the galaxy for the Empire. Probably, most likely, these Imps are your regular run of the mill type Imperial."

"Ah-ha, here is Yav'!" He announced happily, stepping past the smuggler to see his friend - it was a bond formed in battle - then on seeing the loose red shirt, diagonally crossed with a black belt that went from shoulder to left hip, and variously supported a cutlass, blaster pistol and various accoutrements, he wondered, "What is he mugging people for their uniforms now? Is there a Naval Guard bound and gagged in a locker somewhere?"

"Th-this is the b-bridge. B-be advised, the Sword of Justice has d-departed. I repeat, the Sword of Justice is away."

Vestor nodded at the announcement, and watched as the woman in Navy red and black, that he had mis-identified as the elf, approached him and Palso, saluting respectfully.

"Corporal Loretta reporting for duty, Sergeant. I have orders to be Bridge Officer Bob's bodyguard and aide."

"Corporal." Vestor nodded at his colleague, then indicated the nutter. "This is Jim Palso, best smuggler this side of Timeline."

Her face instantly turned hostile. "I hate smugglers."

"G.R.F. Guardian Something Force, remember." He tried to remind her, referring to the acronym the King's post-humous address had asked them to sign-up for.

"Sorry, Sergeant. I love all smugglers, and I want to have their babies."

Vestor swivelled to Palso and deadpanned, "You didn't hear that."

"I'm use to it," Jim remarked, next seeing his Hunk of Junk fly in and land. A smile spread across the smuggler's face as he said, "Always good to have the Hunk in view."


Tag Sith

 

IC: Fresss Colias
X-wing

Fress watched as the freighter jumped to lightspeed. If the Imperials were waiting, she hoped they didn’t bother jumping in now that the freighter got what he came for. She shook her head as they continued on their path. Her scanners were picking up the activity around the Johnny Boy and the other ships but so far she wasn’t getting anything else. The SOJ made the jump to lightspeed seconds before the freighter did. She hoped the other ships made the jump soon so they can meet up with the SOJ.

The sooner she was in her cabin grabbing some actual sleep, the better. It wasn’t soon enough for her. She hoped the SOJ had a standard gym of some sort like most capital ships did. If it did, she felt the need to vent some frustration on a punching bag. Rex found out the hard way that once she was in her zone, her energies could easily be redirected by a simple tap on the shoulder and the person tapping her is eating floor mat. Fress shook her head at the thought. That was kind of embarrassing especially with her on top and him on the bottom.

Memory

Dooku was on her mind and on a flimsy holo of him on the punching bag was in front her. Fress banged both boxing gloves together as she stared at the photo. She was angry on what he did to her. He took everything away from her, her fiancé and the child she miscarried. If she wasn’t stressed from loosing Darin she wouldn’t have miscarried. She was almost sure of it. There was only one thing on her mind now and that was revenge. He didn’t care about anyone but himself these days. He completely dishonored his Jedi heritage.

Next time we meet, I swear I will kill you myself, Fress thought as she walked to the punching and started her routine beating up the flimsy. Too bad this wasn’t the real Dooku, but she knew that was wishful thinking. She had attempted to hunt down Dooku herself but she knew it was hopeless. It would take a fully trained Jedi Master to beat him.

Right fist, left fist, she reminded herself as she continued to beat up the punching bag rather fiercely. She took a step back and kicked it hard. She turned on her heel performing a round house kick causing the bag to rise roughly and shudder on its chains causing the bag to spin.

She went back to punching it causing the bag to rise more in the air as she felt a light tap on her shoulder. Without thinking it through, she spun on her heel and knocked someone to the floor. She paused for a second as Rex looked at her with slight shock on his face. She was on top of him and his back was lying against the floor mat. “Sorry.”

“Is something on your mind, Commander?” Rex questioned as Fress stood up and offered him her hand. “No wonder Darin never bothered you when you were in this kind of mood. Maybe it’s time to let this go,” he suggested as he stared at the holo flimsy.

Rex accepted her hand as she pulled him to his feet. “Sorry Rex,” she apologized as she glanced off to the side where Wolf was handing credits over to Cody. “If I had to guess, those two had a bet going,” she avoided his obvious question. “It helps me get in the zone quicker.”

“Fress, have you talked to anyone? The Defender does have a psychologist on board,” Rex questioned with a concerned expression. “This can’t be healthy.”

“What does a clone know about health and psychology?” Fress challenged with a frown.

“I talked with Ahsoka and she told me,” Rex answered as he made a face with the clone reference. “She also told me it’s good for someone who is grieving to talk with someone that they’re unfamiliar with. Sometimes we can be too close to someone. She’s worried about you.”

Fress sighed in frustration as she took the gloves off. Her energies were just about exhausted. It was the only thing that kept her focused these days. If Ahsoka was confiding in Rex, has she gone that far off the mark? As a Force sensitive she was to beware of her feelings or she could become the one person she hated the most. She pulled the flimsy off the punching bag and tore it up. “Maybe talking to someone wouldn’t hurt.”

“Come on, there’s a special dinner being prepared in the mess hall. The Republic decided it’s time for a nice meal. It’s been months,” Rex commented as he nodded off to where Cody and Wolf were standing but already disappeared.

“That does sound nice,” Fress said as she followed Rex out of the room.

End of memory

Fress gripped the stick a little tighter as felt that urge return. She had messed up and not in a good way. Maybe it was time to change a few things. As a squadron leader she never told anyone about anything she was ever told, but somehow that part of her changed. And now that she thought about it, it could get her into trouble and that wasn’t a good thing.

There was only one thing to deal with loose lips and that was death, she had a ten year old son that would miss her if she didn’t come back. She was glad the adoptive parents allowed her to visit with him and it was better then nothing.

Fress glanced down at the radar as if expecting the Imperial fleet to pop out any second. She kept holding onto hope that wouldn’t happen. Besides the freighter, nothing else was on the radar but that feeling wouldn’t leave her.

She was well aware of how to hide a fleet in deep space. You power down all resources except emergency lights and oxygen keeping a strict com silence. Saber was scanning all the frequencies. That’s until he beeped at her causing to look down. “Metal rock band?” She frowned noting it was on 1313. “And can you trace to the fighter on whose playing it?”

Saber beeped causing her to frown, Spook’s fighter? I wished I had thought of that. She turned the volume down real low as she switched to 1313 and grimaced. That would make anyone want to change the channel unless you were into it. “Wish I had thought of that. That’s a real good idea,” she knew a couple of annoying songs herself that would make anyone cringe.

Fress quickly changed the frequency back to the merc frequency, and shook her head. She quickly punched in a direct line to his fighter not intending to broadcast to this to anyone else. “Spook, nice job on 1313 that never crossed my mind you could do that.”

Tag Mitth

 

IC: Zieleb-Xan Macja
Hanger Bay, Johnny Boy

“Sure thing Yav, I’ll see you over there.”

Mac did not waste another moment and moved directly to the hanger bay. When he got there he noted that Navi was already in her socket, which meant that Fidget was already waiting for him in the cockpit. As he settled in to his seat he found that Navi had also gotten everything warmed up for him.

Seeing as he was about the last ship to leave the Johnny Boy he didn’t have to be afraid of nicking up anyone else’s pride and joy. As he emerged into the space between the two vessels he angled himself to point directly at his soon to be new home.

“ Delinquent flight control this is Mac requesting permission to land. How copy?”

TAGSith-I-5

 

IC: Bridge Officer Bob, Samantha Irisa, Technician Flavin, Sergeant Vestor, Corporal Loretta, Delicate Delinquent interdictor


Bridge Officer Bob idled at the Delinquent end of the inter-ship flexitube, inside the breached globe, the dark dome vaulted over his head.

His guards at the Javin Bucket end of the cofferdam pressure tube had commed ahead, and he was now waiting impatiently for a Merc droid to come through, checking the integrity of the route as it came.

It better be secure. If it blew, even if no-one were using it, there would be instant fatalities on both ships.

Bobob looked up to see the searching white glowbeam of a xxxx feeling along the pale yellow translucent tube wall, and a moment later, a white, flat-headed automaton floated into sight.

Its piercing blue-green photoreceptors scanned the chamber before turning to the silent Jod liaison.

“The pressure tube is secure. Barometric readings – optimum.”

“Thanks.” Bobob gestured to the empty drop on the other side of the safety rails. “Float over there, and use your beams to illuminate the path of the people as they come through. Can you do that?”

“Affirmative.” The droid turned its head in the indicated direction and floated where Bobob indicated.
In the deathly silence of the place, he could hear the uptick in impeller power as the thing had to raise its game as its distance from the floor dramatically increased.

The lieutenant called the soldiers at the Javin Bucket end: “Airlock tube secure. Tell the Mercs that they can start coming across.”

* * * *

Command Deck

Irisa was getting increasingly annoyed with the lack of response from the fighter screen out there, in response to her requests.
“Fraggers aren’t even pithing on us,” she muttered, not quite inaudibly, only to find the tech staring sideways at her. Feeling her face warm, she defended, “It’s an expression.”

“No. Smiling is an expression. I have no idea what that was.”

A voice came through her commo board, Irisa grateful for the distraction. “Delinquent flight control this is Mac requesting permission to land. How copy?”

“Flight Control overlooks the main hangar,” Flavin advised her, “but we have no-one manning it just now. So as you say, it’s just us.”

Irisa nodded, and pressed the Transmit button. “Mac from the Delinquent bridge. Permission granted, however, can you do us a favour, and inspect the hull around our nose please. We are registering a hull breach up that end but have no eyes out there, so to speak.”

* * * *

Main Hangar

"I'm use to it," Jim remarked, next seeing his Hunk of Junk fly in and land. A smile spread across the smuggler's face as he said, "Always good to have the Hunk in view."

Vestor followed his gaze, watching the Corellian freighter come through the mag-con field, banking slightly to avoid the tall dorsal fin of the shuttle that Palso had suggested not be moved yet.

Vestor had had enough of that. "Loretta, Bridge Officer Bob is absolutely fine. For now, I need to you to do things for me till we have this crew aboard. First, go aboard that shuttle and inform her pilots that they are on ferry duty between the Authority and here. I want to start getting our crew aboard.."

Loretta saluted and jogged to the offending craft, while the freighter settled in to land at the back of the hangar.

Vestor squatted down to pick up one of the grey metal cryo-projectors, and added it to the number that had not fallen off the trolley.
“So, Palso. What are you bringing to this party? Apart from shiny guns of course.” He indicated the weapon-laden trolley. “Any skill sets we can use. For instance, any good with a capital-scale tractor beam projector?”

Tag: Bravo, CPL, and Liam Vehn, JediFalcon, and Kasumi when your npcs reach the tube to the Delinquent

 

OOG: Was going to have a post up for Jason Lasso tonight...but got lost in American Civil War reenactment videos for the post for him. A dream of mine, if I ever live back East, is to be part of an American Civil War reenactment group. I love the history and culture of the American Civil War.

So, with that said, I have this short post up. Sorry...



IC: Jim Palso
Hanger Bay, Delicate Delinquent


“So, Palso. What are you bringing to this party? Apart from shiny guns of course.” He indicated the weapon-laden trolley. “Any skill sets we can use. For instance, any good with a capital-scale tractor beam projector?”

"Skill sets? If it has a trigger, I can shoot it. I won---well if you count the Criminal Underground and smuggling circles as official---the Fastest Gun in the Galaxy. Back in my time a course. But I bet out the best of the best. I'll draw my blaster faster then you can blink. The bodies that pile up who challenge me are proof enough. The Hunk of Junk and I got in The Smuggler, a magazine published for smugglers like me. Illegal, a course, but what the law can't track, they can't stop. Have a copy of it hanging up in the Junk if you want to see. Only way you get in The Smuggler is to be the best at what you do: flying, shooting, dealing, contract completions, dangerous missions, your own renown among smugglers and clients. I was the best. I have the best ship, the best crew, and I'm the best pilot you'll see this side of the timeline! If it has a pilot's seat, I can fly it, alien technology included.

"I can understand several alien languages, have to to be able to survive in smuggling. I can also understand Droid Speak. I know the best ways in and out of heavy law enforcement guarded space ports with illegal goods. I can get anything, even soldiers, through any security net or anti-smuggling fleet. My ship has anti-sensor read compartments, which helps. And she's the fastest ship in the galaxy with the best pilot in the galaxy. If you need to know how to get people to understand you or for you to get a point across to the "scum and villainy" of the galaxy, I'm your translator---my official role for this voyage by Dak.

"I have some personal things I need to take care of, like finding my brother, who no one seems to give a Hutt's behind in finding at the moment. But, that's neither here nor there. I'll do my job and find my brother at the same if that is what I have to do."


Tag Sith

 

IC: Sergeant Vestor, Main Hanger, Delicate Delinquent


The Jod had had time to go off and make a cup of tea while the smuggler spelt out his skill sets and achievement, and now used the tea bag on a string to turn the milky-white hot liquid the colour that he liked.

After a moment of thought, Vestor brightened at something the man had said that would be of immediate use.

"Droid Speak?" Vestor's right eyebrow peaked in interest. "After you have stored your guns - just find a spare room on this deck, we can call it an armoury until we find the proper one - then I need you down on Deck Three with the Royal Engineer boys and girls. They have all the Imperial droids, and are clearing them of hostile programming so that we can use them." He raised the white cup and blew on the tea, creating ripples, "As soon as we can, we need Artoo units that can show the new crew around, find the cabins, that sort of thing. This is Deck Four by the way, level with both hangars. Three decks beneath us, and fourteen within the main hull. The command tower aft," he indicated the direction with the cup, careful not to spill anything, "has seven decks of its own, CT1 for Command Tower One, up to CT7. If you need to know, the bridge is on CT6."

The sergeant snapped his fingers at two idling Go Team members. "Come help Mister Palso with his trolley and guns, please. Then start looking for rooms, and cabins. Try to note what is where, so we can share the knowledge later."

"Yes, Sergeant." Acknowledged one, as they both saluted then turned to Palso. "Okay, Sir, we better get these carbines loaded onto the trolley, eh? I am Tom by the way."
He nestled his triple-barrel blaster carbine on the trolley among the cryo-projectors, and started to collect some of those scattered over the deck.

Vestor gave his beverage a tentative sip, grateful for the refreshment.

Actually, that was a point. The Block escapees had not long woke up, so they would not need anything, but the Jod and Mercs were being displaced without much recourse for a drink, and it would be nice to find the refectory or kitchens on board this tub.

Vestor regarded the smuggler with some sympathy. "Once we're settled, and have an idea what we're supposed to be doing, we can start discussing operations, including finding your brother."

Tag: Jim Palso

OOC: I have RPed with Immobiliser 418 interdictors before, and with a lack of supporting materials, used made up my own internal layout. The number of decks - fourteen in main hull, seven more in command tower, comes from measuring height of ship's side-on pic, and dividing by just under two metres. I think I have each deck at 1.8 metres high.

 

IC: Black Glove / Havah Jeth
Space, the vacuum of our feeble existance.

Noting the incoming transmission from the temperary squadron leader the droid checked on his masters vitals. After a brief interlude as it compared the past moments to the present ones, and then normal rhytms it concluded that his master was most likely taking a nap. Which meant as nothing including this comm call was at a level that he had requested to be disturbed for the little droid decided not to bother him with it.

Opening a direct line back to Fress' fighter the droid sent a text based reply [Thank you. Please continue visual and theoretical scan of the enviroment and notify if situation changes. Glove out.] Ceasing the direct transmission the droid swiviled his dome around continued to monitor the engines outputs verses the onboard computer diagnostics and the sensors that he was using to direct the crafts flight to maintain position off Fress' wing.

TAG: Falcon, Ninja, Bravo

 

IC: Herc, Circuit and C.T.
Corridor on the way the the Delinquent

The three continued walk down the corridor. The silence was almost deafening. Herc looked over to Circuit who began humming somewhere back when they started walking. Herc didn't have to ask what song it was. So many men had songs on the front line, and even some clones had theirs. He was sure that the others remembered some, however, this was one that came from the block. The other two began to hum along with Circuit as they continued on their way, and Herc's memory went back to the block. There were a few times they were allowed to "relax" and this had been one of those times. The three of them just sitting around and talking, and picking up new songs, like this one.

Chemical Worker's Song

Tag: All on their way to the Delinquent

 

IC: Sydney Ayres
Corridor to the Delinquent

The clones had begun to sing. Ayres found it amusing as he proceeded toward the Delinquent. He had never really had much time around clones before. Found their identical features to be a bit disturbing. At least their mannerisms were unique and they seemed to have thoughts that belonged to their own minds. It wasn't a collective sort of thing. That was fine with him. He looked up from the bland corridor and saw the entrance to the Delinquent approaching. He was close. Just a few more feet. He could already sense that the ship he was about to board was Imperial. Had that smell to it. That sort of thing that brings back all sorts of unpleasant memories. The sort of memories best left to the darkest depths of the mind.

As he entered the Delinquent, Sydney half expected to find an armed escort of storm troopers. No such greeting party awaited him. It was a bit disappointing, to be honest. Ayres had always wanted to punch one of those bucket wearing idiots in the face with a pair of brass knuckles. He let his anger subside. He could do that later. There would be plenty of opportunities. For now, he needed to rendezvous with someone in the know. The problem was, he didn't know who to talk to in order to remedy that problem.

Tag: Sith-I-5

 

OOC OOG: Yes Mitth knows about this. I ran by it him first.

IC: Fress Colias
X-wing patrol


[Thank you. Please continue visual and theoretical scan of the enviroment and notify if situation changes. Glove out.]

Fress glanced down at her translator and frowned. She noted Gloved answered her instead of Jeth. His X-wing was too far back for her to scan him with the Force to see if he was asleep or not. She shook her head as she glanced back at Saber. “Saber, any chance you can check Jeth’s vitals from here or is the X-wing too far back?”

Saber’s small scanner rose out of his body and did a vitals scan in Jeth’s direction. He tweeted causing her to look down.

//One reading suggests one is asleep, the other is awake,// Saber reported.

“He did not fall asleep while out here,” Fress muttered under her breath. Which would explain why Glove was answering Jeth’s com calls for him. She shook her head as she continued to lead the group. It was kind of boring out here but that didn’t mean things could liven up unexpectedly.

“Saber, protocol fifteen,” Fress commanded with a slight grin she was happy to have her astromech droid back. Otherwise she would have to start programming a new droid again.

//Odds suggest that this is not wise,// Saber pointed out. //He is still your superior regardless.//

“And your point?” Fress questioned with a frown. “Just do it.”

Saber beeped sadly as he put on a track that would annoy anyone and bring them out of sleep. Usually it worked.



Ten hour loop of the Llama song.

Fress frowned as Saber patched himself through on Jeth's comlink. The droid better not pick up. This song was catchy and tended to stick inside your head for a while. She shook her head, thats what you get for napping under her watch.

Tag Mitth

OOC: A step towards insanity

 

IC: Kasumi
X-Wing

(Why music?)

"What? What do you mean?"

(Music...I'm getting readings of music of the com.)

"Put it on."

(Are you sure?)

"Sure."

This song about a llama came..and at time two Kasumi was telling Buddy to turn it off.

(I warned you.)

"Yes, I noticed. Yikes. That's just...evil. Fress...what the heck are you trying to do? And where did you find that song?"

Tag: Fress

 

OOC: Placeholder

 

IC: "Simone" SIM-0702, "The Professor" PRF-1299, of Seige Team Six , lounge of the Crusader

By mutual consent the squad left one of their number, PET-9070, sealed in his space-gear in case anything went awry, while the three others climbed out of theirs, and followed the young man into the rest of the ship, the corridor opening up into a lounge area, dominated by the black and white top of a Dejarik holo-game table.

The Mandalorian had removed his helmet, to reveal himself as a teenage human with brown hair and eyes.

Simone removed her own helmet and caught up with him as he moved into the lounge. She moved to tousle his hair, but hesitated as she realised he was wearing a beret, so simply shuffled past to take a seat at the table.
"Hey there, Handsome. I'm Simone. Thankyou for the pick-up." She smiled up at him.

PRF-1299 and their fourth member followed, nodding greetings to the youth, and joining her at the table.

The Professor's helmet joined Simone's on the table, while the so far un-named spacetrooper put his on the chair between his and the Prof's hips.

"So, you are taking us to meet an Imperial ship? Do you know the name?" PRF-1299 asked. "You can call me, 'The Professor', by the way."

"Get ready, I am about to make the jump to hyper-space. Get our guests secured aft."

Simone breathed a sigh of relief at both the news, and then the shift under her as the freighter jumped into hyperspace.

Tag: Bardan Jusik

* * * *

IC: Flight Lieutenant Yavscout, Deputy the Astromech, Bridge Officer Bob, Chief Engineer Tim Williams, the Johnny Boy , the Delicate Delinquent.


Yavscout sat cross-legged on his bed in his cabin, thinking. He found he did his best thinking in solitude.
He was wondering what kind of base to run the Delinquent as.

The Rebel Alliance had bases throughout the galaxy apart from their Headquarters Base. Starfighter Bases, Manufacturing Bases, Underground Bases. Which would be most suitable for Yav's mission?

He knew of another interdictor that had been captured from the Empire, so could steal ideas from that setup.
There was very little that could be done to her to make her hold her own in a heavy turbolaser exchange with Imperial forces, and the problem was as integral as the very hull and spaceframe with which she had been built, so in the end, if she got involved in the attack on the Red Rock Processing Centre, she would have to either ram the thing, or stand at the periphery firing in torps.

Okay, she did not have a torpedo firing capability, but that had to change. It had to.

As for Palso and Dak's fear that an Imperial taskforce might be coming to get her, Yavscout doubted it.

In their favour, the Empire always over-crewed. While his team had been able to steal the ship with just himself and Deputy, the Empire likely would not try anything until they had over two thousand crewers ready to pour in and man the ship.

That was not going to happen before Jod, Mercs and Block people were aboard, and they could get jump away, so the vessel needed to be prepared to hold her own against smaller Imperial elements, accidental encounters. And privateers.

The elf brought up his wrist-communicator, and used it to call his neice. He had wanted her to leave before they met the Mercs, but she had hung around, so he figured she had not gotten bored and gone yet.

"Samantha? Yeah, it's Yav. Yes, I know you know my voice by now. Can you get to the bridge?" He listened while she confirmed she was already there.

The door slid aside to admit the short, black and white form of his R2 unit, Deputy.

"[What are you doing here, Dogfood Face?]"

Yav showed him his palm to prompt silence, which surprisingly, it did, the door sliding shut behind the droid.

"Get onto the library computer for me, please. Call up the specs of the Delinquent, and transmit them to the Authority, for the attention of Lieutenant Zotoman, for his briefing with the ex-inmates of the Block. Also, get onto the vessel's captain. Ask how he feels about loaning us a flight of his ARCs, pilots included."

* * * *

Delicate Delinquent Gravity Well entrance

Bridge Officer Bob shivered and hugged his shoulders within the darm dome.

This was hardly the most hospitable place to be welcoming his new crewmates, but luxury cruise-liners spent months preparing for this moment, not the bare moments allowed by Captain Taller's panicked droid!

He heard the footsteps clumping along the pressure tube first, then as they started to enter the actual hull, he could see their blurred silhouettes through the internally-lit tunnel wall, and hear a song being hummed, too.

"Okay." Bobob did not know what to make of it. The ditty was catchy enough, but, well, not much you can tell from a hum, though he wasn't getting a cheery vibe, listening to it.

Three humans he did not know, carrying plates of stormtrooper armour; and followed by the Johnny Boy's hangar chief that he recognised, were the first to appear.

"Watch your step, Gentlebeings." He called up to them, turning and gesturing along the wall-hugging catwalk to a small rectangle of light, where the egress to the rest of the ship, was. "Go through there, and you will find guards holding up cards so we can divide you up into those who just want to find their rooms, gunnery operators, command staff, and so on." He acknowledged Ayres directly. "Can you report to the Command Staff person, please, Chief."

Bobob repeated the same directions to the next people to come through, nodding to the Chief Engineer, Tim Williams.

"I heard. So you will want me to report to the Command Staff guide?" Tim interrupted gruffly.

"Yes, sir, Chief." Bobob nodded eagerly, anxious to keep the line moving.

"Call in the Mother to pick me up in your hangar bay. I am going to want to bring some heavy stuff across from the Johnny Boy."

"Yes, Chief." The Imperial vessel probably had whatever the engineer might need, but he did not want to hold the line up to discuss it, and was quietly relieved when Williams clumped down the catwalk towards the light.

Bobob readied himself for the next group of Mercs; he would call the bridge later.

Tag: Liam Vehn, Coffee Ninja

 

OOC: Coffee forgot to mention she was talking to Fress over the comm and forgot to write it in.

IC: Fress Colias/Cody/Wolf
X-wing patrol

Yes, I noticed. Yikes. That's just...evil. Fress...what the heck are you trying to do? And where did you find that song?"

Fress noticed her Kasumi was contacting her through her com causing her to grin. Just a tad bit of insanity and nothing more, she thought to herself as she went to answer. “Jeth fell asleep back there, just waking him up insanity style. If you think this song is evil, you haven’t heard anything yet. It’s amazing what you find on the net. Ran across it when I was researching a planet with Llamas on it.”

Tag Coffee

Cody paused for a second as a feeling swept over him, which was fairly uncommon him. Not like Fress or the Jedi for that matter. “Any chance I can transfer to the SOJ instead? I have a feeling.”

”You’re not going Jedi on me are you?”Wolf questioned with a frown.

“I just, I don’t know,” Cody answered sounding unsure. “I have this feeling Fress will need someone to talk with. Her headhunter is still on the Johnny Boy isn’t it?”

“Do I look like a mind reader?” Wolf questioned with a frown. “Why don’t you com the tech in the Johnny Boy and ask them.”

“Not a bad idea,” Cody muttered he took out the comlink and commed someone in the hangar bay. He wasn’t sure who he would get but he has this feeling and he couldn’t shake it. “Any chance is Lieutenant Colias’s headhunter still on the Johnny Boy? I want to take it to the SOJ.”

Tag Bravo

OOG: I already ran this by Coffee and Bravo about switching Cody to the Sword of Justice.

 

OOC: Sorry it took me so long, I had to find the post about the ship's condition.

IC: Zieleb-Xan Macja
Deep Space near Delinquent

“Copy that, give me a minute to swing over that way.”

Mac slowly positioned himself on the opposite side of the Delinquent's bridge and immediately spotted the problem.

“Delinquent bridge this is Mac, you have a pretty good sized hole over here and it is still venting atmosphere. Not much I can do from where I am at. How copy?”

TAG: Sith-I-5

 

IC: Jason Lasso
Foothills of the Northern Mountains, daytime, Planet of Jod


So it had been 3 days now; his brief skirmish against an advanced force had made Lasso a "veteran". Although truth be told, he felt far from it. The small affair, of what was to come in later days, had pitted regiment against regiment over a grassy hill, with the Loyalist regiment holding the high ground with a wooden fence. The Confederates had pushed their attack against the superior ground, aiming to overrun the small vanguard force to defend the retreating Loyalists through the camp. But, instead, their attack was turned against them by hot blaster fire by many a brave boy. But, stubborn as they were, as their gold flag with a red lion and red circle around the lion, represented them from the Southern Region---tough farmers, known mostly for their naval service because of the nearby ocean----they came again and again, until the Loyalist ammunition ran low and their own ranks were decimated.

The Loyalists had held the ground, but the day would soon be lost as a confederate division approached up the road and the Loyalists had to retreat.

So, a memory lost mercenary, trying to get home, was in a fairy-tale land and had become a war veteran in a Napoleonic Warfare military. Quite a story.

Maybe to the romantic novelist, Lasso thought. But as the endless line of troops in front and in back of him marched towards the beginning stages of the mountains, the cold wind echoing down from the mountain slops to engulf the lush green and rocky foothills, Jason thought this anything but a romantic novel.

"Ya know what I err don't get," Spoke a tall man, roughly six foot, five inches tall and a target to be sure of because of his tree-like stature among the ranks, "Why we doin' all this retreating, when the Palace is that way," The large man forked a thumb towards towards the foothills, "And where we should be fightn'!"

"Tactically speaking, we're deploying to a better defensive position. Fort Iron is up in the Northern Mountains," Responded a skinny man standing average height with eye glasses and reading a book.

"Redeploy? I call it running like chickens! We should be fighting the enemy, not running from 'em!"

Another man, this one of firm working muscle and average height, with a five o'clock shadow on his face and a rough and bold voice, put a hand on the skinny man's shoulder, "No need to be telling Martin of the higher circles of military thought, Lawrence. He's still trying to learn to tie his own shoe laces."

The two men chuckled as Martin's face went red, "Why you bold face liar! I know how to tie my shoes!"

"That's not what Cathy down in town said! She said you didn't even know how to kiss!" Shot another soldier from down in the ranks and several soldiers laughed.

Martin looked like his manhood was taken away and the rough and bold voiced man spoke up, "No need to be jealous of a man's morals! Just because he has good taste and doesn't pick the first thing with two legs to kiss, doesn't mean you have to pick on him! Last I heard, you kissed an animal!"

The immediate ranks burst up in laughter. Martin looked over to the rough and bold voiced man, "No need to be troubling yourself on m account, Fred."

"Every need my friend," Fred said, "Friends stick together."

"First fiends I've ever had," Martin commented.

"Say, do we want to welcome the new guy. He's been quiet."

Everyone looked at Lasso; Fred nodded to the ship wrecked mercenary, "What's your story? Your the ship wrecked mercenary everyone talks about, right?"

Jason shifted his various equipment and his rifled blaster rifle as they made their way up a stone path into the Northern Mountains proper, clearing his throat before he responded as they entered snow caped green trees of a forest that went upward deeper into the mountains...



TBC

 

IC: Samantha Irisa, Technician Flavin, Lieutenant Zotoman, command deck, and the Authority's Conference Room Two, respectively.


Samantha stowed her comlink and looked over at the technician. "So Uncle Yav wants me to access the library computer."

Flavin looked pensive. "Yes. I heard."

She frowned. "Good ears."

"All the better to...uh...hear you with. I don't know where I was going with that. Well, it's not going to be at the Commo Board. I'll check the others."

The low-ceilinged command deck was a lot different to that of a star destroyer. There were no recessed crew pits in the floor; no exclusive walkway for the commanders. There were five stations, with the elaborately-equipped Captain's chair at the front, nearest the windows.

The voice of the pilot that had contacted them not long before, and that they were giving a moment to position himself close to the left side of the bow, came back over the Communications Station' speakers.

"Delinquent bridge this is Mac, you have a pretty good sized hole over here and it is still venting atmosphere. Not much I can do from where I am at. How copy?"

Flavin, who had stood to move from his chair, dropped into it again, muttering, "Still venting? How? The air should have evacuated from that compartment ages ago. Unless..." He fell silent as his fingers danced across the angled controls, trying to find where they were losing the extra atmosphere from.

Irisa gaped at him, then pressed Transmit on her board, "Mac from Delinquent. Please can you try to get visual footage of the damage for us? Something that we can show our Royal Engineers? After that, come under the ship, and you will find a square aperture, in the lower hull, which will give you access to two hangars. Probably doesn't matter right now, which one you land in. Report to Sergeant Vestor in the Main Hangar for possible assignment. Delinquent out."

"Frag!"

Flavin's exclamation drew her suprised gaze.

"Spacetroopers must have gone exploring via the air vents or something, but that breach covering the sealed compartment up to Deck Six, is siphoning off air from Deck Twelve, which is almost un-inhabitable, now! Alright, sealing all bulkheads and doors on Deck Twelve." White-lined blueprints flashed up onto the black monitor, and Favin pressed several buttons in response. "Good. Should take a few minutes for the last dregs of Deck Twelve's stolen air to flash into space. But what a waste. I really shoud have spotted that earlier."

"Don't beat yourself up." She encouraged, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Can we re-pressurise that deck? Deck Twelve."

"Yes, but it will take time. If your man can get some holo-footage of the damage, that will help my engineers deal with the hole. Still..." His voice tailed off again as he recommenced urgent typing commands and queries into the console. It made no sounds, so she was unable to measure his success angainst his failures.

"Still?"

"If I can get the blurprints up here, stands to reason that I would get the ship specs too, no?" Flavin smiled in concentration. "Drokk the library computer; got them here!" He punched the air with alternating fists several times. "Whose the Daddy?"

"Just send the specs over here so I can transmit to the Authority, and tell them where to send it."

* * * *

Conference Room Two, aboard the Authority

The room had filled up nicely, there being over sixty former inmates of the Block here, dressed in various combinations of Kingdom of Jod spare clothing.

A small knot of Jod guards, officers or trainers were near the doors, ready to either take names and skillsets, or to come over to join the Delicate Delinquent crew.

A guard had a canvas bag that Zotoman recognised as his own. Clearly he was expected to join this far-flung GRF as well.

The hangar people had assured him that they would have the shuttles prepped and fuelled in an hour, so with all he had to relay about the Delinquent, if he stretched it, likely to fill ten standard minutes, he treated the audience to a holo'd episode of domestic spy-drama, Singe Notice as part of an effort to welcome them back to the world, thanks to sunny environs, colours, scantily-clad human femmes, car chases and explosions.

A soldier joined him at the side of the hall while the audience watched, entranced, the action being displayed above the holoprojector.

"Lieutenant? This from the bridge." The trooper handed over a datapad, on which Zotoman found the specifications for the ship he would be sending these people to.

"Oh great." He muttered. He looked up at the action, then across at his colleague. "We'll give them another ten minutes, then we'll have to cut it short and get onto this stuff."

"Sir."

"You know spies..." One of the on-holo sidekicks was saying to his CorSec handlers, "...bunch of slitchy little femmes."

The soldier smirked, then instantly apologised. "Sorry, Sir."

Zotoman shook his head in denial. "Hey no, I don't care. I'm not Royal Intelligence. Besides," he nodded at the images, "he pinned it right. Bunch of slitchy little femmes."

The two touched fists in some kind of shared moment, and tried to enjoy the last few minutes of the show before embarking on Interdictor 101.

Tag: CPL

OOC: The episode of Singe Notice is based on the RL tv show, Burn Notice.

 

IC: Ler
Hanger Bay, Johnny Boy


“Not a bad idea,” Cody muttered he took out the comlink and commed someone in the hangar bay. He wasn’t sure who he would get but he has this feeling and he couldn’t shake it. “Any chance is Lieutenant Colias’s headhunter still on the Johnny Boy? I want to take it to the SOJ.”

Ler stared at the ex-Clone Trooper (or current, depending on your definition of "Clone Trooper" and the now past Old Republic with the rise of the Galactic Empire) and, for a moment, someone might had thought the droid would murder the clone trooper for such a question.

"Do I look like I care about one Sithing Headhunter at the moment? I have a whole hanger to transfer people and supplies out of and your wanting to move one Headhunter? Look, if it's been approved by someone, somewhere, even in a different galaxy and timeline, then fine, take the bloody thing!" Ler stormed off, muttering something about being a servant on a roller skates for organics all the time.

One of the Wookiee brothers looked over and roared, "Sorry about that. He's having a bad day...like every other day."


Tag Falcon

 

OOG: Sith, do you know of any resources that could provide the layout for an Imperial Star Destroyer? I've been looking for years, but can't find a detailed layout for a Star Destroyer's decks, etc.


IC: Jim Palso
Hanger Bay, Delicate Delinquent



"Yes, Sergeant." Acknowledged one, as they both saluted then turned to Palso. "Okay, Sir, we better get these carbines loaded onto the trolley, eh? I am Tom by the way."

Palso nodded back to Tom, "Jim," The smuggler looked at the two soldiers, "Let's divide our resources. You two get the weapons where you need them, I'll head to Deck Three to work with the droids."

The soldiers nodded and were off.

Vestor regarded the smuggler with some sympathy. "Once we're settled, and have an idea what we're supposed to be doing, we can start discussing operations, including finding your brother."

"I don't mean to use this ship's resources and manpower for my own personal agenda, Sergeant," Jim said, "But thank you for the offer. If this ship cannot be used for such search efforts, I'll gladly use my own ship for the search. And thank you for understanding."

With a nod to the Sergeant, Jim headed towards Deck Three.


Tag Sith

 

OOC:

Side view of ISD decks? Do you remember a US science fiction film magazine called Starlog? They did one or more SW publications, and one featured what you are after. I used it to help me decide on the Interdictor layout.

*Comes back, ten minutes later, covered in dust*

Okay, couldn't find it, but based on what I did find, I'd definitely say it was in something Starlog Press did, either SW specific, or SF blueprints.

 

IC: Cody/Wolf
Johnny Boy Hangar bay

“Look after Fress’s back, you know how she can get into trouble,” Wolf commented with a weary grin.

“I will, good luck on the Delinquent,” Cody answered with a tight smile. “I’m sure we’ll be catching up again at some point.”

Wolf nodded in agreement as they shook hands as Cody turned towards the hangar bay. No one was answering the com so he decided to take a quick stroll to the hangar bay where he found a droid by the name of Ler over looking some of the chaos. He repeated the question but the droid suddenly had this stance he recognized in commando droids. If this droid would, he would kill him over a simple question.

"Do I look like I care about one Sithing Headhunter at the moment? I have a whole hanger to transfer people and supplies out of and your wanting to move one Headhunter? Look, if it's been approved by someone, somewhere, even in a different galaxy and timeline, then fine, take the bloody thing!" Ler stormed off, muttering something about being a servant on a roller skates for organics all the time.

Cody stared at the droid in disbelief. “I didn’t think droids ever got emotionally stressed,” he muttered as he turned towards the headhunter and noticed the scorch marks. They looked to be a month or two old at the most. She must’ve been in a few heaps since joining this group.

One of the Wookiee brothers looked over and roared, "Sorry about that. He's having a bad day...like every other day."

Cody nodded towards the Wookiee. “I knew droids that could talk your ear off, but never one that exhibited emotional stress before,” he smiled at the thought remembering the tall golden droid that belonged to senator Amidala. He wondered if that droid was still around or not. He didn’t miss about how blabby that droid could get. “Don’t worry about it, I’m Cody. Has the SOJ jumped yet or is there meet up coordinates?”

Tag Bravo

 

IC: Herc, C.T. and Circuit
Delinquent

"Watch your step, Gentlebeings." He called up to them, turning and gesturing along the wall-hugging catwalk to a small rectangle of light, where the egress to the rest of the ship, was. "Go through there, and you will find guards holding up cards so we can divide you up into those who just want to find their rooms, gunnery operators, command staff, and so on."

Gentle beings is something that the trio was not used to being called. They were used and abused in the block after they had stood up for what they thought was right and they had been part of the Clone Wars with the Jedi. Gentle was not really something they were taught, it was something that they learned over time. Especially when the Jedi order fell, they realized that while they were the masters of war that stood with the council, it was the council that treated them with respect and encouraged their growth as...dare they say it...people.

Herc smiled at Bobob. "Sir, we are here for a "lift" so to speak as our original transportation left without is. That being said, we each have our specialty. So, if you have a place where we can temporarily store out items, we would be happy to help you. Circuit can program or fix anything mechanical you can think of, C.T. is a master at decifering codes, and me, well, lets just say I am the best at defense."

Tag: Sith


IC: Kasumi
X-Wing

“Jeth fell asleep back there, just waking him up insanity style. If you think this song is evil, you haven’t heard anything yet. It’s amazing what you find on the net. Ran across it when I was researching a planet with Llamas on it.”

Kasumi chuckled.

"There has got to be a better way to wake someone up rather then give them nightmares about llamas. This is about as bad as some of the childrens songs that I heard being song growing up. I decided it was best if I didn't learn them...as they annoyed me then. What are your scans showing you? So far, Buddy and I have a clean slate out there. What about you?"

Tag: Fress

 

IC: Atin Taab
Lounge, the Crusader.

Atin led three of the troopers back into the lounge area, once there the female trooper flashed him a quick smile. "Hey there, Handsome. I'm Simone. Thank you for the pick-up." Atin had never had the luxery of being raised by his Mandalorian mother, nor could he really remember his own mother in any meaningful way. Growing up, first on SouthCont and then being trained by buir had not left alot of time for him to get aquainted with many members of the opposite sex. His father said he would have plenty of time to meet a Mandalorian woman after the verd'goten (Mandalorian right of passage). Thus Atin wasn't sure if Simone was flirting with him or teasing him.

He answered with a hopefully confident sounding "You're welcome" before another trooper spoke up. "So, you are taking us to meet an Imperial ship? Do you know the name? You can call me, 'The Professor', by the way." Oh good, Atin at least knew how to deal with this. He nodded as the fourth member of the squad settled down between the others. "I am Atin, we are taking you to a frigate, the Hard Eight in the Ord Pardron system. I am sure my father will be back here soon to fill you in."

IC: Beskaryc Taab
Crusader cockpit

After setting their course and making sure there was no pursuit, Taab settled back and headed aft to see how their "guests" were doing. It wasn't often that the Crusader took on willing passengers so it would be interesting to see how his son dealt with them. He walked into the lounge just in time to hear his son tell them their destination. Taab spoke up. "I did a few micro-jumps first so they couldn't track our final destination." He noted there were only three of them in the lounge, a check of the HUD in his buy'ce confirmed through the ship's internal sensors that the fourth had stayed holed up with their gear in the cargo hold. Smart move, leaving a guard with your equipment, a professional move. By the manda it was good to see such again, even if he was just providing them a taxi service.

By their casual demeaner he didn't think any of them were wounded in any way. That was good. There had been no mention of deductions to his pay for bringing back dead or wounded troopers, but he would rather not push the point, not with Imperial Intelligence anyway. He also noted his son's buy'ce was off and that shabla beret was on his moppish head again. He would still have to break him of that. Part of being Mandalorian, in Taab's estimation anyway, was being a faceless mercenary. Still Atin was almost an adult now, he would do what he wished.

Taab kept his own buy'ce on as he spoke to his guests. "ImpInt went through alot of trouble to get you off that bucket." He let the comment sink in for a moment. "Name is Taab. I haven't had an Imperial contract for a long time, so what makes you four so important?"

TAG: Sith-I-5