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

IC: Flight Lieutenant Yavscout, Nurse Ulrike(npc), Javin Bucket and Delicate Delinquent
Location: the Greater Javin


Yavscout leaned out into the smoke-wreathed corridor that hosted the Javin Bucket end of the cummerbund pressure tube, aimed his S-5 blaster pistol to the right, and fired, drilling a green blaster bolt through the black eye lense of a stormtrooper helmet several dozen metres away, where one set of them had blocked off one end of the corridor.

The elf had learned from his gun's inability to penetrate stormtrooper armour, during the capture of the 'Delinquent, and now targeted where the armour was weakest, or non-existent - eye lenses, the gaps at the joints, that sort of thing.

Sergeant O'Neill thundered a blaster bolt into the chestplate of another Imperial, tossing the dead trooper backwards, his chest smoking.

"You shouldn't be here, sir!" O'Neill shouted into Yav's ear. "You are needed aboard the cruiser."

"Sergeant, form your men up into groups of five, and fall back by squads to the APC!" The line had not budged any of the force the last time he had tried it, but this time, Yavscout had an idea how to dress it up a bit. He put down another of the enemy, and ducked back into the tube, crimson lasers criss-crossing the opening from the Imps to the left, and the Imps to the right. It was amazing that they did not hit each other. "Oh no, they've taken the APC!"

"What is an APC anyway?" O'Neill huffed as he ducked back too, squatting with his back up against the white semi-solid wall of the tube.

"Have someone nip back to the 'Delinquent for it." Yavscout suggested, in a tone to suggest that would solve the immediate problem.

The Jod non-com sighed. "Jenkins!"

"Sah!"

"Double-time it back to the cruiser; get them to send this APC thing up"

"Sah!"

Yav turned to watch the second trooper that he had managed to pare off from O'Neil's suicide squad, pound down the tube.

* * * *

Delicate Delinquent - Dome Entrance

The first trooper emerged from the brightly-lit tube into the darkness of the huge hollow sphere, instantly feeling the cold from the bare black metal vaulted over his head.

His gaze turned immediately to the main light source, a floating flat-headed droid of some type, which shone its glowbeam along the wall and floor, showing the hyperventilating Jod where to step, and he hared off in the indicated direction, jumping through an oval of light, to see a semi-circle of ten triple=barrelled blasters aimed his way, held by a senior Jod Go Team in space blue and gold suits, their helmets on.

"Whoa! Hold on!" He put both hands up. "I need a left-handed screwdriver. To help detach from the Venator."

"Of course you do." A Go Team trooper deadpanned, indicating the turbolift behind them. "Deck Eight, Room 8E."

"Oh, no. I have to get back to the others. Can't you-hey!" The trooper reacted to a sharp sting ito the side of his throat, snapping has head round to see the Merc nurse, Ulrika, retreating to the side of the door with a hypo in her hand.

"What did you....?" His eyelids fluttered, and Ulrike grabbed hold of his weapon as he collapsed into her arms, half-turning to hand him off to the volunteers of a six-being Merc snatch squad.

"Story of my life," she muttered, straining under the weight of the unconscious Jod, the shoulder to hip leather bendoliers biting into the front of her uniform as gravity claimed him. "Alright, take him into the next area, and make him comfortable. And someone take his blaster off me, the barrel is still hot."

"I really don't like doing this to our own men." One of the Go Team members vocalised.

"We wouldn't have to if they accepted 'disengage' as more than simply an interesting word with three syllables." She sidled up to the open doorway, and peered into the darkness, listening intently. "Get ready. I think I can hear another one coming."

She wondered how the rest of the ship was getting on, in preparing for their escape from here.

Tag: no-one

 

IC: Kasumi
States Room/Corridors

Kasumi watched as Fress left. She looked out to the stars thinking of what she would say to her friends. They had all thought she was dead and she thought them gone or at least one's that may have been brain washed to work for the Emperor. However, that had not been the case and she had found their loyalty to the old order, her master and the rest of the Jedi had remained true even through the darkest of times. Nothing she could give them would repay them for that. Nothing she could really say to them would express her feelings for that undying support. But, she had to try. She let the words form in her mind as she left the state room to find Buddy.

Tag: No One

 

IC: Sounil Mistry, Chief Engineer Tim Williams, Technician Flavin, Samantha Irisa, Flight Lieutenant Yavscout, Bridge Officer Bob, Jim Palso, Delicate Delinquent and Javin Bucket, respectively.


The twi’lek hesitated at the foot of her shuttle ramp, when neither of the people she had seen, acknowledged her wave, or formal request for permission to board, then the Red Alert announcement over the public address system reminded her that she was in a position of responsibility, and there was a lot going on around her.

“Permission granted.” She turned back to look into the ship, seeing several faces looking anxiously down at her.

Sounil beckoned them down, and indicated the dark-grey wall to the side of the hangar.
“Make sure you have everything, and line up over there by the wall. We want to leave the main area clear for shuttles to leave and depart. I think they have other things to worry about apart from dealing with us.”

She counted the twenty ex-prisoners as they came past her, then called into the shuttle that her people were clear.

As she stepped off the tramp, and came round the side of the transport craft, she spotted Wolf patrolling among the ships deeper in the hangar, recognising him from the conference room aboard the Authority, and called over to him.

“Hello again! Good to see a familiar face. Uh, do you know where my group of new crew needs to be?”

* * * *

’Delinquent bridge

Tim could do little more than fret while their communications were cut off, so looked down at C.T. with some gratitude as the younger being rectified it.

“Good work, Son. Now contact the Johnny Boy, see what they need from us.” He looked over at Flavin. “You. Scan for survivors.”

The technician shook his head. “You heard the music. There won’t be any.”

Williams really hated being second-guessed. Normally he just had to deal with his daughter and their hyperspace technician, Zapp, but the Time Slip mission had expanded his horizons, and put him in a position where he had had to hold his corner. Dropping his voice, Tim explained, “With the Sword of Justice gone, and the Authority GONE, that makes us the only Guardian Reliance capital ship in the area, which makes us responsible for all friendlies in the vicinity. So pretty please, with a rainbow-berry on top, scan the drokkin’ area.”

Flavin tapped the instructions into the ship scanners. “No escape pods, but multiple Jod craft incoming from where the Authority exploded!”

“Identify the ship types; if any of them are too short-range to make the jump to Berrol’s Donn, we’ll have to bring them aboard. C.T., encrypt the hyperspace coordinates for Berroll’s Donn, and transmit to all the allied vessels. Obviously don’t mention the system by name. Those TIEs won’t have hyperdrives, but we don’t know what else the Empire has in the area.”

“Chief.” Flavin got on with that task.

Tim knew his next announcement was not going to be popular in some quarters, but ploughed on anyway.
“How do we detach from the Javin Bucket?”

Irisa, who up until now had been waiting silently next to him, waiting to help, blurted, “What about Uncle Yav?!”

“I’ll take care of Uncle Yav.” Tim promised, digging around a coverall pocket for his comlink, pinching shreds of greying flimsy off it, and flicking it on. “Yavscout from ‘Delinquent. Are you suited for hard vacuum?”

* * * *

Javin Bucket end of the cummerbund pressure tube

The elf stared wide-eyed at his wrist-com, following the question from the gruff old Merc.

There was only one reason why the question would have been asked in that tone of voice.

After the way he had died aboard the Strident Haze escort frigate, sucked through a breach that Darth Vader himself had torn in the hull, yes, the elf was suited for hard vacuum, and even though the Jod fishbowl helmet knocking against his hips, the walls and any furniture that happened to be around, annoyed the living sith out of him, it had gone with him everywhere.

“Putting my helmet on now, Chief.” he said, unlatching it from his utility belt, and lifting it over his head, and twisting it into place on the chunky gold collar of the blue vacsuit. “But I need more time to send these troops back.”

“These soldiers you are trying to save; what’s their highest rank?” Williams’ voice came over the helmet speakers. Yav had no idea how the suit knew to take the signal from his comlink. He just accepted the matter. Perhaps these Jod were cleverer than they looked. Which wouldn’t be hard.

Yav eyed O’Neill, as the other pulled a fallen comrade back into the tube, and passed his form back down the line of survivors. “They’ve got a Sergeant. Name of O’Neill. Look, I'll work as fast as I can. Yav out.”

The agent cast Camouflage on himself, fading from sight as magical blue sparkles showered over himself, drawing shocked gasps from the surviving squad members.

“Invisibility spell, don't worry about it.” He tried to reassure, leaning out into the corridor, but hugging the corner of the hatch, while not touching it with the suit, and heavily slapped a palm across the door controls, and .

Of course, this re-materialised him, but he was already ducking behind the sealing red hatch by time Imperial troops could send shots his way.

"Won't take them long to burn through, sir." O'Neill advised, standing.

Yavscout ignored him, studying the interior of the cummerbund where it adhered to what was essentially the Javin Bucket's outer hull.

“I have no idea how to seal this end of the walkway” The SGIS agent admitted.

The sergeant frowned. "Well, wasn't that why you sent my man back for the left-handed screwdriver?"

“Sorry, no. That was to save his life. So, er, new orders. Follow me.” He turned, put his helmet down and pounded away down the tunnel!

* * * *

Delicate Delinquent bridge

"Uh oh." Flavin announced ominously, as new readings came up on his scanners "something strange happening out there."

“Strange how?” Williams gruffed, staring at the Jod. “Giant space slug playing the Nar Shadaa wind chimes strange, or-!”

"Scanners have painted TIE fighters closing rapidly. Five each of two types. TIE/Ins and TIE stroke gee-tees, as if that makes a difference. They are ignoring the the Johnny Boy and the Authority fleet and coming straight here."

“Is our fighter screen still out there?”

"Nope. Already jumped to the backup site with some of the shuttles."

“Raise shields.”

"Raising." Flavin tapped the relevant keys. "You'd think that would have occurred to me when the star destroyers turned up."

Samantha flicked a switch on the Communications' console,
“Quad laser operators, attention. Imperial TIE fighters coming our way.”

* * * *

Delicate Delinquent turbolift

Jim Palso stood in the well-lit turbolift, opposite Bridge Officer Bob, and between them was the diminutive, domed form of a white R2 unit with light green panels.

Palso pointed to the droid. “This is Willow.”

"Hello, Willow." Bobob gave the thing a little wave.

The door opened, showing a two corridor V-junction, with sealed doors at intervals along both.

Quad laser operators, attention. Imperial TIE fighters coming our way.

Both men looked up at the announcement, then looked at each other, while the droid put down a third foot, and rolled towards the right-hand hallway.

“Gun operator?”

"Yeah."

Palso traded handshake with the Jod officer. “Good luck; we're gonna need it.” He released, and turned to chase after the droid, while Bobob took the left-hand corridor, choosing a door at random.

“Your sure these are the gun emplacements?” He queried the droid. “You and I are going to have words if you are leading me to the freshers.”

Willow blatted sarcastically.

“No, no maybe next time.” Palso stopped before a hatch, hit the door release, and ducked into a dark ante-hall, finding the bucket chair with web strapping as the door sealed behind him.

The setup was not disimilar to the setup aboard the Hunk of Junk, and he was reminded of when Talon Kaarde had showed him around his then-new vessel.

Palso sat in the chair, putting on the headset, and swung the voice pickup under his chin. “Bridge, this is Palso. I am in position in one of your quad cannon.”

"Bridge Officer Bob here, in another of your emplacements"

Tag: Wolf, Herc, C.T., Sydney Ayres

 

IC: C.T.
Delicate Delinquent Bridge

“Good work, Son. Now contact the Johnny Boy, see what they need from us.”

"Yes sir." C.T. went to work making sure that the contact was scrambled just enough so that others couldn't not tap into it, but when it made it's way to the Johnny Boy it sounded crystal clear.

Johnny Boy, this is the Delicate Delinquent, what is your status? How can we assist, over?

As C.T. waited for a response his next task was set before him.

"C.T., encrypt the hyperspace coordinates for Berroll’s Donn, and transmit to all the allied vessels. Obviously don’t mention the system by name. Those TIEs won’t have hyperdrives, but we don’t know what else the Empire has in the area.”

"A pleasure captain." C.T. began what would be a complicated task of hiding and masking the information, and made it look like child's play. He liked that kind of challenge, especially when he was able to test that against the Empire.

**********************************************
IC: Herc
Gunner Turrets

Begin Music

Herc could feel the mood change before he heard the orders. In a way he was addicted to that feel....or was it the feel of the adrenaline in his system. He was trained by the best and was ready to test his skills again. The turret was nothing new to him, and it was almost home for him.

Memory

"You have done well in your battles."

The trooper knelt while Secura spoke to him, and while her padawan listened in.

"You are different than the rest, as I have a feeling many of your brothers will be as well. You think on your feet, improvise, and always put the needs of the group at the forefront of your mind. They call you Herc in circles, and I think that name fits you. You are strong, fast, and have a desire to become better. You want to learn more, you never stop improving yourself."

Her hand came down on his shoulder.

"We are grateful to have you with us. Thank you Herc for your services."

"It is an honor to serve with such a great leader."

"The honor is all mine. Kasumi has been watching you, you know that don't you?"

Herc nodded.

"She believes you would benefit from a copy of these, and I agree. I look forward to seeing what you can do when you have started studying these."

Herc put his hands out and received a manual of what he could only describe as maneuvers, notes, and tactics handed down through generations, from different cultures, so that they may survive on the battle field. He looked up, and watched as master and padawan left his site.

End Memory

Quad laser operators, attention. Imperial TIE fighters coming our way.

Herc smiled to the orders and got settled in.

"Ok...lets see what you've got."

Tag: Sith

 

IC: Kasumi
Corridors of the Sword of Justice

Kasumi found her friend Buddy and was now walking quietly down the corridors trying to find the words she would say. There was so much to say an so little time to do it in. Buddy faithfully followed her every once in a while with a mournful tone. She would always stop and turn to him and gently lay her hand on his dome, to calm him. Buddy for himself wanted to try to calm her, but didn't know how. Kasumi found a quiet corner and stopped. She turned to Buddy.

Begin Music

"Well, my friend, this is it. I'm ready when you are."

Buddy beeped and began his recording.

My friends, I am recording this in the likelihood I do not return from this mission. The mission we are being sent on is one that will involve all the skill I have learned, and then some. I know that usually people leave instructions in things like this, but there are just a few that I have, the rest is thanks to you all. There is a payment coming, and if I am not there to receive it, I trust it to you three. After the below has been done, the rest is yours to do with as you see fit. On to the instructions:

First, my brother, Phelan and my mother are on Alderaan, near the great forests. I was unable to tell them I was alive, but my brother sent me word that he felt that I still was. I had hoped to return to Alderaan someday to let them know I was alright, so you may have to do that in my stead. Please tell them what happened, and give them part of the payment to help with the study and conservation of our beloved forest. After that, take what belongings you still have of mine. Take the wood carvings to Endor, and present them to Logray, the leader of the tribe I was blessed to stay with. If you want a safe place, that is quiet and away from the strong arm of the empire, stay there. The tribe may take a while to warm up to you, but I know that they will trust you as I have over the years.

Second, Fress has a son, named Brice. I would like for you to find out what is needed to help make his ability to get an education more of a reality. If either of you sees in him a part of you, something tells me that he would be blessed to have a tutor for that subject.

Now that that business is done...my friends....I cannot say enough to you to make this easier, nor can I say enough thanks to you for your years of service and loyalty. We fought in many battles side by side, some long, and some short. We watched comrades fall, and watched others be healed after a battle. We sweat together under the scorching sun and froze when the ice rains came. We were all terrified of making my master mad, or doing something that would cause her harm. After I found out about order 66, to be honest, I feared the worse and worried that you had all been taken control of. But, even though I found you again in a place as dark as the Block, each of your inner lights kept you going. It was as if the Force had seen the day when we were to meet again, join again, and continue what we started so many years ago. The abilities and uniqueness you each possess allowed you to thrive through the years away from the order, and even more so when you were challenged after your "release" from the Block. When I stood next to you three again it was as if time hadn't passed, the pain of loss eased in me, and I could once again see my master in each of you. Thank you for giving me that piece of her back, and for blessing me with the chance to work with you again. Here is to the time of peace we all want, the time of peace we have constantly been looking for. May the Force be with you.

With that the recording was stopped. Kasumi patted the droid again.

"Thank you my friend. Can you make sure this gets to who it needs to, and then I will meet you in the hangar bay in a bit."

Buddy beeped and went on his way.

Kasumi turned and went to find a bit of food. She turned into the mess hall, and took a look at the food there. It wasn't much to look at, but it would do. She picked out some things and sat at a table in a quiet corner. She poured some tea, and slowly began to pick at her food. So much had changed for her, she had gained new friends and old ones had returned. Now, she faced losing them all again, even if she did survive this. Kasumi looked up and saw Master Secura sitting across from her. Even as a Force ghost her master knew that sometimes silence was what Kasumi needed to sort things out. So, they just sat.

End Music

Tag: Fress

 

OOG:

IC: Captain Timothy Stakes
Medical Bay, Sword of Justice, Jod Star System


Despite being "the man" aboard the Sword of Justice, the be all, end all to all decisions aboard the warship, Timothy Stakes still had a way of avoiding the over talkative crew member, the brown noser crew member, and the messenger of bad news crew member. Entering the medical bay, the Captain found a stripped down (with medical gown on) Havah Jeth and his droid. Stakes took in the "normal" chaos of a warship's medical bay.

"So it looks like you meet our friendly ship doctor," Stakes said towards Havah as he grabbed a chair and took a seat next to the Guardian Squadron Leader, "Or lack there of. So Mr. Jeth, I've given much thought to what you have said. To everything you have said. And," Stakes went to grab for the data-pad he had brought alone, but the Stellar Winds shook the warship once again and Timothy dropped the data-pad; they had to leave this Planetary Nebula before the ship was ripped to shreds. Picking it up, he handed it to Havah Jeth, "Secret orders while in the Northern Stretch. I hope, maybe, you'll find some hope in this mission and realize that if you don't die on this one, there's use for you in this galaxy beyond being a monster," Timothy got up and turned back to Havah, "Don't tell your squadron mates. Leave that to me," A male nurse walked up and looked at Stakes, "Yes?"

"He's clear, Captain. All levels are within normal ranges."

"Good," Stakes said and turned back to Havah, "You leave in twenty minutes. Your team awaits you in the hanger bay. Good luck, Mr. Jeth. And if I don't see you again, I'll see you in hell. If I see you again, then I hope you have a renewed respect for the human race."

With that, Stakes walked out of the medical bay, a ensign intercepting him with alarming news, the bay doors closing before anyone could hear what that news was.



**********************************************


Hanger Bay, Sword of Justice


Captain Victor Paulsome made sure his infantry sword was ready; it was the weapon he lead his troops into battle every time. It was of lightsaber resistant material, phrik to be precise; his DE-10 blaster pistol rested in his holster on his hip. While similar to his fellow King's Army soldiers in many respects, many parts of his uniform also varied (other then the color scheme): information.

Here, his boys and him waited at the ramp of a Nu-class attack shuttle. 29 soldiers waited for Havah Jeth...who would make 30. The shuttle would be full, but Captain Victor Paulsome knew why. This mission was going to test them all.

His company was small, but famous. Attached to the 1st Corps, it had served with honor on the Front Lines a 12 month tour; for a whole month, his company had been cut off from the rest of the regiment and was under seige by a larger enemy Beast force. Instead of giving in to a force three times their size, the troops of the Hard Heads Company became famous that month. Holding off a superior force, they kept the enemy was securing a major spaceport. Their size then, 100 troops. Since that battle 2 years ago, the company had decided to not allow any reinforcements into the company, seeing fit to die as the "original" Hard Heads, then 47 troops strong. After a trip home, they were renamed into the 122nd Hard Heads and given special access by the Royal Palace itself to be put under the "special operations division" of the King's Army. While not considered part of the elite Go Teams, they were the next step below. Specializing in operations too big for Go-Teams, yet sensitive enough to require a special touch of secrecy, the 122nd---shortened---was called in. They had been part of the Authority, but had been transferred over with a few other troops to the Sword of Justice at the last minute.

So their orders were simple enough: take this "super hero" Havah Jeth to the only Baas-class space station in the Northern Stretch. Well, that's what Victor had been told at least. One of their House of Royal Intelligence agents that had come over from the Authority had given them the classified information to Captain Stakes, stating that the station was the true (but nicely hidden) command center for the Northern Stretch. While the agent couldn't given specific defensive numbers, he did say that the station was automated and since the fall of the Royal House, had become "self operating," meaning in short, that the station's Artificial Intelligence had taken over all defensive capabilities of the Northern Stretch.

While the Guardian pilots Fress and Kasumi could find the "safe route" through the defenses, someone had to disable the multiple droid defenses that populated the safe the route. And that someone---or more precisely put---someones had to be crazy, brave, and stubborn to win; that sounded like a mission for the 122nd.


Tag Mitth

 

IC: Wolf
Hangar bay Delicate Delinquent

“Hello again! Good to see a familiar face. Uh, do you know where my group of new crew needs to be?”

Wolf walked towards the woman then stopped a few feet in front of her and gave a short nod as he recognized the woman from the meeting. The one that managed to get Fress all in a tizzy. “It’s you again, the one who got the Commander all riled up about Anakin. I don’t believe you have been assigned yet. What are your skills? We’re sorting everyone aboard the ship through what they specialize in. Then we’ll get you assigned.”

Tag Sith

IC: Fress Colias/Cody
Sword of Justice mess hall

Fress smiled as she finished her meal as Cody sat back in the chair and looked around. She frowned as she saw Ahsoka appear to her with a smile and nodded towards Kasumi. She nodded in agreement as she glanced at Cody. “I think I need to talk with Kasumi first. I keep getting this feeling we’ll need to use the Force to get through this.”

“Like a bond?” Cody questioned with a frown as he straightened in his seat.

“Something to that extent,” Fress answered with a frown. “I have a feeling I could use a quick refresher. I'm going to ask her if it’s possible within the next hour.”

”Possible,” Cody agreed with a smile. “Only one way to find out.”

Fresss gave a short nod as she stood up and walked over to the table Kasumi was sitting at and sat down in the chair Secura wasn’t sitting in. She grinned at Seucra as Ahsoka sat down in another chair. “It’s a party,” she quickly joked. “I’m wondering if you can give me a crash course using the Force. I have a feeling we’re going to need every bit of knowledge to navigate this nebula.”

Tag Coffee

 

IC: Havah Jeth / Pic

Noting the entrance of the Captain Havah looked up and waited patiently and then took the previously fumbled pad without a word. At least the Captain wasn't a gunner. With the captains parting words after he was cleared he merely nodded in return, partly in indifference to the mans position and in part due to his own lack of comfort in his unarmored state, "If we meet in hell, we will be beyond such things."

After the captain left he set about taking off the ridiculous gown and putting back on his proper armored attire. The feel of the body glove once more enclosing his body from toe to neck, the solid weight of the plates of armor as they locked onto his form, and finally the resolving clarity that securing his helmet with the forward swept insect like wings that made up the visor flashed into infrared existance to better allow him to visualize all the displays that nuanced in ways that his eyes did not easily track. The fact that a deep scan had been performed after his blood was drawn meant he had had to sit around drinking foul fluids and waiting until now.

Now he had a mission to see to, one that truly left him in a unique position concerning survival. As he went to leave a nurse came at him with raised hand, "Where do you think you are going? The doctor hasn't cleared you yet."

"No, the Captain did." With a wave of the pad in his hand and a quick nod from a paused male nurse he exited the med center, following Pics lead to where his new assignment was taking him.

As he walked through the opening blast doors to where he was supposed to go he was arguing with Pic. A most unsightly state of affairs, but one that the droid seemed determined to win. "No you are not coming with me. You get to stay here and make sure that you get to try to manage the system from here."

Lines quickly scrolled on his helmet, "Yes, I know you have wireless link up capability and consider yourself handy with a hydrospanner, but this is not a mission for you. Keep safe and watch over the rest of the team...I am not a stubborn packaderm, and no Glove cannot handle those duties, he only has two weeks of independant operations, and you've had to help form his decision making processes along. Now hand over my staff and go."

The Otoga 222 shook its head and ran ahead of him holding his Stokli Spray stick like a balance beam as it trundled to the leader of the awaiting shuttle. The little droid let go of one side and gave a smart salute before grasping the staff with both manipulors before Havah could get a grip to yank it away.

"Havah Jeth, reporting in. Could you please tell this droid to scram?" he hoped that the. . .whatever rank the man was would be able to settle this peacefully with his droid, the last thing he needed right now on top of being sober was having Pic be in harms way in a mission.

TAG: Bravo

 

IC: Kasumi
Sword of Justice Mess Hall

“I’m wondering if you can give me a crash course using the Force. I have a feeling we’re going to need every bit of knowledge to navigate this nebula.”

Kasumi smiled as she looked up.

"A crash course? I'm not sure I can give you that. Maybe tell me what you know already, and we will start there."

Tag: Fress

 

IC: Pit Lieutenant Pembleton, Star Destroyer Lansdowne.
Location: Greater Javin


The bridge was wreathed in smoke, and the command staff on the command walkway were seated on the deck, getting their eyes treated for flash damage from the detonation of the enemy cruiser’s reactor.

When it had approached within close proximity of all three Imperial vessels, asking to be sliced apart in their crossfire, all Pembleton had been thinking was, this was the best example of the WBD – “We Both Die” tactic, he had ever seen.

Though, they would have to create a new acronym for this particular subset, AFOUD, “All Four Of Us Die.”

“What’s our status?” The captain called from the floor, over the alarms, below Pembleton, and to his left.

“Difficult to say, sir. Most of our sensors are out, electronics are fried, the windows are still polarised black from the blast, and could be a few minutes before we can see through them again.”

“And the mission?”

Coughing, Pembleton crossed to the man and squatted down beside the white-uniformed medical orderly, who was placing moist white pads over the captain’s eyes. “Well, before we got hit, sensors showed the Johnny Boy’s hyperdrive as inoperable, so we assume that is still the case. I have sent the TIEs to disable any vessel capable of towing her out of the area.”

“Good work. Check if we have operable tractors, ourselves, and if we can, move us towards the Johnny Boy.”

“Yes sir.”

Tag: no-one

---

IC: Lieutenant Zotoman, Jod Sentinel-class landing craft, Unidade Cresh
Location: Greater Javin


Zotoman sat in the cockpit of the crew shuttle, next to the pilot, while in the back, twenty ex-residents of the Block waited for them to reach the Delicate Delinquent, which was in front of them.

The pilot was counting off the transports that had gone to lightspeed. “Okay, the Besh, Dorn and the Esk have gone; and obviously the Aurek managed to land on the DD before all heck broke loose.” He turned to Zotoman, “Sir, we have lost the Authority!”

“I know. But we have to keep going.”

Several ships came up from behind, and came into view as they overtook the Cresh and continued out into the space beyond the interdictor. They were quickly followed by the deadly solar-finned globes of TIE fighters.

“This is for the Authority.”

Zotoman watched the pilot’s hands dancing across his control board, and doing things unrelated to the navi-comp. “Don’t be a hero.”

A glowing pink ball, trailing a scarlet tail, shot out from under their nose, and out into space, zeroing and catching one of the TIEs, detonating it into a bright, but short-lived ball of white fire!

“Don’t make us a target, either!”

Distance shrank the TIEs to moving spots of light, like artificial stars, five going wide of the cruiser, while the final four broke formation while still heading for the Delinquent.

"Wonder where they are going," the pilot wondered aloud. "Nothing over there."

Zotoman pursed his lips as he followed the others' gaze out the camopy. “No poinht asking me; I'm right here with you.”

To be continued...

 

IC: Zieleb-Xan Macja
Bridge, Delinquent

Sirens blared, orders were screamed, orchestrated chaos ensued all around the bridge amongst the five occupants who were running the massive cruiser. Mac just stood there not knowing what he could do to help. Finally he grabbed his gear off of his droid companion, “Navi, plug in over there and figure out what you can do to get the comms back up.”

He frantically looked about the bridge and found the guy giving all the order, “Tell me what you need me to do to help out. I don’t want to just stand around looking pretty in my flight suit for you.”

TAG: Sith-I-5 & anyone who is on the Delinquent’s bridge

Sent from a Galaxy far away via R2-N6

 

OOC: I already ran this by Coffee.

IC: Fress Colias
Sword of Justice Mess hall

"A crash course? I'm not sure I can give you that. Maybe tell me what you know already, and we will start there."

Fress glanced at Ahsoka as her watched her with a frown. She shook her head. “There’s a reason you’re here, isn’t there?”

“You can’t tell me you have forgotten what Mace taught you?” Ahsoka questioned with a serious expression. “Not after you kept besting me during the lightsaber lessons? What really drove me nuts is when you moved so fast and I couldn’t visually keep track of your movements,“ she turned her attention to Kasumi with a frown. “Fress was taught telekinesis, speed, sensing objects and lies through the Force. She has had visions of the future and they are not to be taken lightly. She even knows when something has changed for a mission before we’re called into the room to be debriefed. What you and Fress will need to know for this mission is sensing to navigate through the Nebula a safe route while retrieving what Stakes wants. This won’t be an easy mission. It will take everything you two posses and will require forming a bond. That’s if you decide to do so. No one can force you two to do that. You need to teach her to communicate telepathically as communications over long distances will be limited.”

“And what about Jeth?” Fress questioned with a frown.

Ahsoka didn’t answer as she watched her friend. “I’m sure you know how to figure that out for yourself, remember how?”

Fress raised an eyebrow as she studied her friend and the truth of the situation as to why it felt like something had changed was because it did. She closed her eyes and focused her mind relaxing herself. She felt herself centre in the Force as she stretched out her mind further and further as she felt for Stakes presence. If anyone knew, it would be him. He changed the orders. She could sense it. She could hear both him and Jeth talking but she didn’t understand what they were saying. She focused her mind even more to clear up the static.

Fress shook her head as she opened her eyes. "Something in the mission has changed but what I can't understand a word being spoken. It's like listening to static over the comm. I'm sure we'll be informed soon anyways," she stared at Ahsoka who had a slight smirk. "Go on and say it, I can see you want too."

"Trying to keep secrets from you was nearly impossible," Ahsoka said with a grin as she sat back in her chair. "It irked quite a few people. Especially the ones you helped put into prison."

"It's not my fault, I'm just really good at it," Fress shook her head. "I was really good at CorSec intelligence."

"There's a shock," Ahsoka commented in a joking manner. "Brent was disappointed when you left. Best partner he ever had. I checked in on him and he's still trying to find a replacement. He misses you."

“I miss working with him too. He didn't even care I lied to him about my background. Sensing objects and a path through the Force?”Fress frowned. “And open communication?”

Tag Coffee.

 

IC: Captain Rick Taller, Sounil Mistry, Flight Lieutenant Yavscout, Technician Flavin, Samantha Irisa, Chief Williams, Johnny Boy and Delicate Delinquent respectively.


"Stupid. Stupid. Stu-" Taller's view of the music jamming the comms channel stopped mid-sentence as C.T.'s voice came through to ask what they needed.

Taller flashed a glance at the good doctor, then responded, "Who is this? Has Yav lost the ability to relay comm messages? We are free of the Javin Bucket, but our hyperdrive is still out. Can you lock tractors onto us."

* * * *

Delicate Dlinquent - Main Hangar

Although the twi'lek was pleased to see Wolf again, she felt a twinge of uncertainty that perhaps she should not be jumping to conclusions, that this particular clone was the one she thought he was. Wouldn't it be embarrassing if this was a different one?

She stopped as he approached, and gave her a short nod, which she returned.

“It’s you again, the one who got the Commander all riled up about Anakin. I don’t believe you have been assigned yet. What are your skills? We’re sorting everyone aboard the ship through what they specialize in. Then we’ll get you assigned.”

Sounil nodded again. That made sense, to assign people by skill sets. "For the moment, Lieutenant Zotoman aboard the Authority put me in charge of them." She pointed out the shifty-looking crowd on the other side of the Aurek, against the far wall. "After I have them settled though, for sure, I can do security; investigation and infiltration, trouble-shooting; I was a Republic security agent, after all; before going private. I can pilot a medium-sized starship, though of course, I am several years out of practice."

* * * *

Delicate Delinquent - Bridge

Williams looked down as the kid asked, "Tell me what you need me to do to help out. I don’t want to just stand around looking pretty in my flight suit for you"

"And you do look quite fetching," the Chief Engineer observed ryely, "Give us a twirl."

If the lad had looked older, he would have expressed that a fighter pilot, upon hearing that enemy starfighters were closing, should be able to sort out for himself how he could help, but he hid behind the humour while playing for time, and was saved by a muted alarm from Flavin's station.

The technician looked down. "Hello...reading loss of atmosphere from the entry dome, oh stang!" He had flicked two parallel rows of toggles towards himself before, simultaneously raising ray and projectile shields across the skin off the ship, and instantly snapped one back into the former position. "Switching Dome to ray shielding only! Did Yav get aboard?"

* * * *

Ship to Ship Walkway - 'Delinquent end

Yavscout had been running back through the tunnel as fast as he could, as fast as he had ever sprinted, kill-on-sight to city guards, through the reptilian Iksar capital, Cabilis, between the Field of Bone and the Lake of Ill Omen, the ceiling lumis flashing overhead as he pounded along the tunnel, when the left-hand wall shifted and smacked him into the right-hand wall, then bucked up, a tornado rush of air spat him from an environment of artificial lighting, out into space, where he barely had time to register the changed circumstances, while behind him, the breached cummerbund was whipping about like an out-of-control red fire hose.

He crackled through the capital ship's ray shielding and starfished hard into the vast grey hillside that was the dome's hull!

Dazed and aching, the elf managed to kneel up, raising an arm to the night sky, and at the TIE fighter bearing down on him like a Japanese Zero. "De plane. De plane."

"Yav? Yav? Are you inside the ship?"

The TIE opened fire, green fire coruscating off an invisible ceiling half a metre over Yav's head, while he ducked back down to all fours to avoid being blinded

"I think I'm on the hull. Can't immediately see the way in." Despite his attempts to save them, Yavscout did not let O'Neill's squad's obvious demise, as clued in by the now blood-splattered pressure tunnel, affect him.

He was a rescuer, and there were times when even the best efforts failed, so emotional investment was only productive up to a point.
Besides, if they thought that dying now, rather than surviving to help the GRF through its future tribulations was the way to go, they had gone out the way they had wanted.

The agent glanced up, to see the TIE bank out of sight over dome's far curve

* * * *

'Delinquent bridge

Samantha was tracking the Imperial fighter's movement, calling, "Herc, one from above! You want to show him the error of his ways?"

Flavin snapped a glance across to Samantha. "Sam, Yav's on the hull. Get a rescue team out there."

She waved, transferred internal comms to the third station and sat there, pulling a comm-set over her head. "Go Team, Yavscout is on the hull, close to the domes hatch. Go get him."

"Raising projectile shield over the dome." Flavin snapped the final toggle toward himself. "Ughh!" He exclaimed in pain as an impact on the ship from behind slammed him into his console, while Chief Williams sprawled forward over the deck as the alarm klaxons once more echoed throughout the cruiser.

"What in Flamewind was that?!" He demanded angrily from the floor, while Taller's voice sounded over the speakers:

"You have TIEs trying to knock out your engines. Lock tractors on us and get us out of here!"

Chief Williams climbed back up to the Communications Station.

"Captain? Chief Williams. We don't have tractor projectors; you will have to lock the Johnny Boy's tractors onto us."

"Alright, stand by. Dak, lock tractors onto the Delinquent"

"Flavin, move us away from the Javin Bucket. Move us towards the hyperspace exit vector. We go as soon as they have locked on." Williams turned to Mac, "We don't have time to put you back into a fighter, though we sorely need some kind of support to keep those TIE's of our back quarter."

Tag: Herc, Mac, Wolf, anyone on the DD

OOC: Oh yes, Fantasy Island. I went there.

---

IC: SIM-0702 "Simone", "The Professor", the Crusader


"Don't worry about it," The Mandalorian reassured from his seat, "that boy has seen and done things a lot worse than happen in any casino." He looked again at the display settings before standing up. "We will get to our destination sooner rather than later. For those of you who don't want to play or talk there are bunks farther aft so you can get some shut eye." That said he headed back to the cockpit to watch over the ship's progress from there, and to try to figure out just where he and Atin would go next.

Simone yawned, then quickly put a dainty hand over her mouth, a sight that was all the more incongruous when you realised you were looking at an Imperial stormtrooper.
"Sorry. I might take him up on his offer."

She shuffled on her choob to her left till she was able to rise from the game table, her gaze taking in Atin as well as her two team-mates. "Now you boys behave yourselves."

As she headed aft, out of their sight, she overheard Atin say, "I grew up on Ranklinge's SouthCont. Buir found me there five years ago and...took me in[/color]". His eyes focused on the forward bulkhead as he continued on. "He's right. I may not know how to play Sabacc, but I am sure I have seen things that would give even you nightmares."

The Professor raised an eyebrow at the name of the place where the lad said he hailed from.

"SouthCont? Was that this Ranklinge's ship?" He asked. "Sit down, Kid. Allow us to broaden your horizons."

Tag: Bardan

 

OOG: The word "fleshies" is used in place of organic; I saw the word fleshies first used by a player with the Jedi Outcasts with one of his characters years ago. Just wanted to give reference.



IC: Captain Victor Paulsome
Hanger Bay, Sword of Justice


"Havah Jeth, reporting in. Could you please tell this droid to scram?" he hoped that the. . .whatever rank the man was would be able to settle this peacefully with his droid, the last thing he needed right now on top of being sober was having Pic be in harms way in a mission.

The infantry Captain removed his thumbs from his front belt and propped himself up from leaning up against one of the shuttle's landing ramp's struts; he looked between "Havah Jeth" and the new comer's Otoga-222 maintenance droid, who clearly displayed a higher-then-normal operating independence from it's factory stock programming.

A course everything Victor was about to tell the droid was hypothetical in nature...but considering the AI hell they were about to step into, Victor wasn't going to put it past the space station's super computer's AI's list of capabilities either. "You know little droid," Victor said towards the droid, "Where we're going, droids aren't going to be your friends. And there is no ability to reason with them either. Their stuck in a security programming loop that their main super computer has initiated...and I could only imagine what that super computer will do to you once it captures you and finds out you've been helping fleshies like us. So what will it be? The stick and deactivation or hand it over to your master and have another day to stay operational?"

Whether or not the droid accepted the Captain's statement or not, Victor signaled his troops to start boarding; once everyone was aboard, Havah joined them. Victor didn't know if the droid came along or not and, at the moment, it wasn't his concern, but the Guardians' Squadron Leader's.

As the chin ramp closed and the wine of engines reaching flight levels could be heard, Victor looked over at Havah who sat next to him, both men----like everyone else---strapped in with crash webbing. "Captain Victor Paulsome, 122nd Hard Heads. We spcialize in taking on the impossible and making it possible, so I hope your in for the ride of your life," Victor nodded towards Havah's data-pad, "If you've read the data-pad, then you know what we're going up against. But I'll give you a summary."

Outside the shuttle's cockpit view, the interior of a King-class Battleship's hanger bay was replaced by the beautiful display of a nebula. Due to the stellar winds of the nebula, that even the shuttle's company could see were giving a beating to the battleship, the shuttle had to be tractor beamed out of the hanger bay and just outside the nebula, where the battleship was currently stationed. Out of the stellar winds proper, the shuttle was still subject to the winds for a few moments longer---at a much lesser degree----until the shuttle cleared the nebula and started a long journey around the far edge of the nebula to reach a hyperspace jump point to the Northern Stretch.

Victor continued his speech now, "The Royal House of Intelligence has given us the classified location of the command center of the Northern Stretch's defenses. I've always been under the impression that the Northern Stretch was impassable...and if there is something beyond the Northern Stretch---beyond these defenses being a early warning system of sensors---I want to survive this mission to see what is beyond the Northern Stretch,"

It was still clear that only the Guardians and the Sword of Justice's command staff knew of anything beyond the Northern Stretch.

"Anyways, back to the point. This command station is supposed to be completely AI, but if I know anything of Jod military policy, I find that doubtful. In short, we're not getting the whole story, which is nothing new to my boys here and I. The station has gone rogue, meaning it;'s self sufficent from any legal Jod military control. Royal Intelligence suspects that once command updates were stopped being sent to the station from the Royal Palace on a daily basis, the station initiated one of it's defense programs that is designed to safe-guard the Kingdom of Jod's interests and last received orders until communication can be restored with the Royal Palace. Problem is, the House of Royal Intelligence can used a command override code to make the space station's super computer think the Royal Palace is sending orders, as to deactivate the AI.

"So far, Royal Intelligence has discovered that the station's communication system is downed. The hope is that we go in, restore communication, and get out. Assuming Intelligence is telling us the truth about it being a completely AI ran station, then this mission should be a walk in the park. If we're not being told the whole truth, well, that's why we bring blasters."

"Clear for Red Space jump," The pilot said from the cockpit, "Jumping in 5...4...3...2...1...JUMPING!"


Red Space jumps never took long, especially in the Kingdom of Jod itself, so in a matter of minutes, they were back to real space. Up ahead, the Northern Stretch...





"Wonder why Intelligence didn't give this safe passage data to the SOJ," Commented a soldier.

"It's too small," The pilot answered back, "The safe passage profile is just big enough to fit us in. Must be a security measure."

"Let's just hope Intelligence's information on this passage is correct," said the co-pilot as he read the sensors, "If one of those ion storms moves just a inch off course and into our safe passage, we'll be a glowing explosion of debris pretty quick."

Victor let the troops and pilots talk, others starting to chime in. Somewhere deep with the Northern Stretch lay that command station, and Victor couldn't help but now wonder what lay beyond the Northern Stretch. If safe routes could be developed for a warship the size of the SOJ or better, then that meant the Jod military had a secret beyond the Northern Stretch that could help them win this civil war. You didn't make safe passage routes just big enough for a shuttle, then other ones large enough for a warship without a reason. If the Northern Stretch was truly a defensive barrier, then a safe route large enough for a warship wouldn't exist.

As they entered the ion storm, Victor and many other soldiers tried to hold their last meals in. The trip was, for a lack of a better word, choppy. And it didn't help that the random flashes of ion storms in front of the shuttle, some very close, caused many of them to think they were just moments away from be vaporized.

During all of this, Victor noticed the shielded satellites that seemed to move around from the cockpit's view; he was also able to see a part of the co-pilot's sensor screen and a changing map that the pilots followed. So it all made sense now. These satellites were designed to map and predict where the ion storms would hit and would map a safe route through the storm; all you needed was the password to access their constantly updating sensor banks and then up-link that data to your nav computer. Clever. Since no one safe route would ever be the same for any length of time during the safe---and with no doubt a cycling of random passwords for security---the passage through the Northern Stretch was safe; furthermore, you needed the passwords for every satellite along your particular route of travel, so each satellite could send data to the next station and a safe route could be mapped from satellite to satellite. If one satellite was taken out of the route of travel, then one was doomed to risk flying blind through the Northern Stretch, where survival was very low most likely.

"There she is," The pilot said as a ghostly looking space station appeared suddenly in the Northern Stretch; the last satellite mapped the last part of the safe route to the station that would close, by the satellite's estimate, in 60 seconds. Around the space station was a massive energy shield that seemed to be deflecting the ion storms off of it's protective layer.

Victor made his way up to the cockpit and listened to the two pilots.

"That's no normal military-grade energy shield," the co-pilot said, looking over to the pilot, "The readings are off the chart! I've never seen specs like this before."

"Let's just hope the energy shield doesn't keep us out as well."

"Intelligence did say that the satellites would send a access code to the station's main computer to allow us entrance."

"Yea..,and when was the last time you saw a completely AI ran station with food stuffs and life support? It's all over the sensors, granted the life support is running on minimal specs at the moment, but it's still there. And, look at the station. Only a handful of lights are on...see those view-ports? The rest of the station is blacked out. There better be good hazard pay for this mission."

"Can the life support sustain us or do we need Roamer-6 breath masks?"

"Take the breath masks just in case. But for now, there's enough life support in there to support our team."

"Good. How far out?"

"Thirty seconds."

Victor nodded as the shielded opened up to allow the shuttle in and the Captain turned to his troops, "Thirty seconds!"

The soldiers all started loading their rifled blasters and checking their gear; the lights inside the shuttle went from normal to red;

"If communications is done with the station, then how did that satellite communicate with the space station?"

"A direct data burst maybe?"

"Don't you think the geniuses at Royal Intelligence would have thought of that and tried to communicate with the station that way?"

"The ion storms may interfere with a data burst and the only way for a data burst to make it to the station is through these safe routes where the ion storms are voided temporally."

"So why send a troop shuttle and not a scout craft to do that?"

The pilot thought for a moment, "That is a good question. I don't know."

"I think that hazard pay of yours just doubled."

"I think your right. Start scanning all communication and energy devices. Anything and everything that could support communication or sensors."

"On it."

As the hanger bay doors opened to one of the many docking bays on the Baas-class Space Station, the co-pilot extended the landing struts and the pilot put her down in a relatively quiet and abounded-looking hanger bay. Lights were just starting to come up---most likely activated by the hanger bay doors opening---and all around the hanger looked normal: equipment, work vehicles, and crates were all nicely put where they belonged, per Jod military policy.

As the shuttle settled down, the red light in the shuttle bay went from red to green; as the landing ramp lowered, six King's Army soldiers of the 122nd rushed off, securing the departure site before the rest would go down.

"Clear!" Yelled a soldier down below and as Victor stood next to go, sword in hand, he waved the rest of his troops forward. With Havah and another soldier behind him, followed by the flag barrier behind them carrying a rolled-up Central Region's battle scared flag, they lead the rest of the troops down. Everyone secured different parts of the hanger to create a semi-circle around the shuttle.

Everyone stayed quiet for a long moment; nothing could be heard but the recycled air generators turning on to refresh the air and the clicking sound of various equipment turning on and off and changing operating cycles.

Victor could notice the air was stale and old. But the air recyclers were quickly refreshing it. The air was also cold, evidence of the white puffs coming out of everyone's mouths as they breathed in and out the cold air. "Todder, Banks, Vice, and Ford stay with the shuttle crew. Keep a open line of communication at times with squad leaders and me. The rest of you, let's move!"

The remaining 25 Jod soldiers and Havah fanned out, 3 soldiers, Havah, Victor, and the flag barrier reaching the main exit/entry door to this docking bay, the large number 2 above it. Next to the door on the wall was a holo diagram showing where they were in comparison to the rest of the station. "Havah, you'll stay with me. If what Captain Stakes says of you is half true, then I'll need your skill-set. We'll take the command center and security office. Should be the hardest to get to if there is anything here other then the AI. We'll take a half squad with us, plus the flag. That will leave twenty troops, split them up into 2 teams of 7, one team of 6. Holy, Zune, Mop, on me!"

The three squad leaders---other then Todder, a Staff Sergeant, who stayed with the shuttle---came up to the Captain. "Holy," the soldier's nickname for his zealous faith in God and the Lord Jesus Christ, his real name being Andrew Mines, was the first. Staff Sergeant of rank, he was the third highest ranking in the company, despite his still young boyish looks at the age of 27, light colored skin with brown eyes, brown hair, and stood 5'10. Zune, for his last name, was your average military brat who messed up one too many times in high school to be accepted into a military service school for college, so to keep with family tradition and to please his less then happy father---who was a Colonel back home---he still joined the ranks of the military. Cocky, self-centered, and a former jock football player in high school, Zune was muscular and was one of the largest on the company, standing at 6 feet, 3 inches tall, and was 24 years old, light skin color with brown eyes and military-cut brown hair. Sergeant of rank. Mop, a nickname for his party days back in college---his real name lost to the party stories of the past---was a crazy son of a Hutt, standing 5'11 with dark colored skin and blue eyes. Liking anything that goes "boom," the trained demolitions expert had a purple-colored mo hawk and his face was constantly at a 5 o'clock shadow. While out of military regulations when it comes to grooming---even not wearing his kappi so he could show off his mo hawk to "all the ladies" (as if there were numerous women on a military warship in deep space)---no one could deny the 29 year old's bravo when it came to a firefight.

"Holy, your taking the crew quarters, mess hall, and rec center. Zune, your taking the cargo bays. Mop, split your team up. Three go with you to the engine room, two hook up with Zune to help his team with the massive cargo bays. Mop, if there is power and heat to be found, I want it. This place is colder then Vader's heart. I'm taking Havah, 3 soldiers, and the flag barrier to the command center and security office. Questions?" None, "Okay, stay in communication. Check in every 5 minutes. Move!"

As the Sergeants moved their way back to their squads holding the defensive circle around the shuttle, Victor changed out his sword for his blaster pistol and opened the door. The blast doors opened quickly to a long dark corridor with only limited lighting, up ahead at the far end a bank of turbolifts at one end with two passage ways splitting off further left and right. Each corridor had a sign with a arrow pointing to that direction: Engineering, Cargo Hold. The turbolifts went straight for the command module up-top and the crew quarters, mess hall, and rec center.

"Care to take point, Mr. Jeth?" Victor asked from the hanger bay as they stood in the blast door entrance/exit way.


Tag Mitth

 

IC: Wolf
Delicate Delinquent hangar bay

"For the moment, Lieutenant Zotoman aboard the Authority put me in charge of them." She pointed out the shifty-looking crowd on the other side of the Aurek, against the far wall. "After I have them settled though, for sure, I can do security; investigation and infiltration, trouble-shooting; I was a Republic security agent, after all; before going private. I can pilot a medium-sized starship, though of course, I am several years out of practice."

Wolf looked up with a frown and eyed the other as he glanced across the main hangar bay. Then turned his attention back to Sounil. “That’s quite the resume. Sounds like you have your orders, though I’m still a little iffy on where to put everyone. As soon as we go to hyperspace we plan on getting everyone assigned his or her quarters. The Authority was destroyed ten minutes ago. I could use some help in security if don’t mind working with an old war horse.”

Tag Sith

 

IC: Zieleb-Xan Macja
Bridge, Delinquent

"We don't have time to put you back into a fighter, though we sorely need some kind of support to keep those TIE's of our back quarter."

Mac knew this, as a matter of fact he knew it before this time. Even if he had run all the way back to the hanger, fired up the Arrow, and somehow got her out of the overcrowded bay, he still would not have got out in time to be any good. He guessed that he might have had enough time to get there and jump to safety himself, but then he would have been leaving behind the rest of the MERCs that were stranded on the Delinquent.

But that was about the extent of his usefulness on a capital ship and when the Chief made the snarky comment about having him twirl around to show off his uniform, Mac wanted to tell him to go and suck hard vacuum. However he was instantly reminded of an ancient proverb:

A fool shows his annoyance at once,
but a prudent man overlooks an insult.*

So he took a cleansing pacifying breath and looked down at Navi.“Send a layout of the ship to my datapad and mark the closest turbolaser battery, that can cover our aft, that is unmanned.”

Without saying anything to anyone else Mac turned around and ran full tilt with FORCE SPEED to the battery Navi marked for him. He put on the headset that was available and set the frequency for the bridge, “So tell me Chief, did I get here fast enough for you?” With that he started engaging the closest TIE that he could.

TAG: Sith-I-5

*Proverbs 12:16 (NIV)

 

IC: Kasumi
Sword of Justice mess hall

“I miss working with him too. He didn't even care I lied to him about my background. Sensing objects and a path through the Force?”Fress frowned. “And open communication?”

Kasumi smiled and looked over at her master. Aayla just smiled and nodded and nodded to Fress.

"The challenge has been laid before you Fress. Ask and you shall receive." With that Aayla left the table.

Kasumi looked over at Fress.

"Sensing a path through the Force is easy and challenging as each situation is different. For this test we have been given the challenge is to get from point A to each of the stations within an unknown area. That being said, we will start with something similar. While this is not ideal, it will have to do. Find your way from the mess hallto the hangar bay."

With that Kasumi stood up and went behind Fress. She carefully covered Fress' eyes with a strip of cloth that had been doubled over so that there was some light, but no discernible figures or landmarks could be seen. "Lesson 1 and request 1, sensing objects and a path through the Force has begun."

With that Kasumi stayed quiet as she took one last sip of her tea and went through the doors into the hallway, and patiently waited.

Tag: Fress

 

IC: Fress Colias
Sword of Justice Mess hall

"Sensing a path through the Force is easy and challenging as each situation is different. For this test we have been given the challenge is to get from point A to each of the stations within an unknown area. That being said, we will start with something similar. While this is not ideal, it will have to do. Find your way from the mess hallto the hangar bay."

With that Kasumi stood up and went behind Fress. She carefully covered Fress' eyes with a strip of cloth that had been doubled over so that there was some light, but no discernible figures or landmarks could be seen. "Lesson 1 and request 1, sensing objects and a path through the Force has begun."

Fress watched as Ahsoka disappeared with a slight grin. //You can do it, sis,//. She watched as Kasumi stood up and walked behind her as she folded a strip of cloth in half as she placed it over her eyes and tied it behind her head. She didn’t say a word as she sensed Kaumi taking a sip of her tea then walked out of the mess hall. I hope I don’t bump into anything, she thought with a frown as she closed her eyes and focused her mind.

Fress felt her senses come alive around her as she sensed everyone in the mess hall, she could smell different odours. Focus better in on conversations as she felt the table in front of her. It was almost like the air around her changed allowing her to sense how close she was to an object. The table felt like a dead spot in the Force to her. She stretched out her sphere of responsibility searching for a droid. She knew she would have to search for more then just something dead in the Force. That would do her no good, what she needed to sense was size and shape.

With that in mind she located Saber easily as Fress stood up and walked towards the mess hall entrance. Vague images appeared before her eyes and she could see the tables and people moving. She made her way towards the entrance as she kept her hands slightly out in case she accidentally ran into something. But the air around her didn’t change allowing her to know she wasn’t in danger of running into anything.

As she neared the door she could sense she was getting close to it as she felt the air compress in front of her. She smiled as she reached out and pushed the door open pushing her hand down.

Fress could sense Kasumi standing in front of her as she relied on memory to head towards the hanger bay. The Force whispered direction to her as she continued to head towards the hangar bay.

Tag Coffee.

 

IC: Herc
Delicate Delinqent Quad Laser cannon turret

Begin music

Samantha was tracking the Imperial fighter's movement, calling, "Herc, one from above! You want to show him the error of his ways?"

Herc smiled at the question and took aim making sure to take his sweet time taking shots at the Imperial fighter.

The Imperial Fighter pilot felt the shock of each hit. He tried to gain bearings to find out where the hit was coming from, but each time he thought he had a lock, it would vanish with another hit. His systems were being taken out one at a time. Deep down he knew that this was a battle he would not win, but he did not want to admit defeat by retreating, so he kept his course.

Herc took a few more shots to slow it down and then with one final dead center shot, he watched at the fighter exploded. While he felt bad for the man that was behind that fighter, knowing that that man was nothing more than a pawn in the Emperors game, he knew that that same darkness that consumed that pilot was the one that caused the Jedi to be destroyed...and for all darkness to descend upon all galaxies. It was that darkness that imprisoned him and his brothers and several others. He let out a loud war yell as the fighter exploded.

"That should answer your question. And they have a lot of errors to answer for."

Herc set his sights back out into the darkness of space.

"Come on....you devils. There's more where that came from!"

Tag: Sith

 

IC: Kasumi
Corridors of the Sword of Justice

Begin Music

Kasumi watched as Fress walked past her. She just stayed quiet and followed at a distance. She knew that Fress' teachings would come back, and quicker than her friend realized. So much of what was taught at the temple was something that was repeated, but was also something that applied not just to the Force, but to life. Sure, the Force helped heighten the senses, but if there is one taken away then the others still have to compensate for it. Going into a blind mission like they were, their site was essentially going to be stripped from them, so they had to rely on the Force and their other senses through this. As Kasumi walked a bit behind Fress she felt her Master walking with her. There were days that she felt so alone, and then there were others when she felt as if her master had never been slain. She hoped that she would be able to master that which Yoda taught her, which was taught to him by Qui-Gon. Kasumi waited for Fress to get a bit ahead of her before she took off using Force speed to get to the hangar bay before Fress. As Kasumi stepped into the bay, she saw Buddy already there getting her X-Wing ready. She thought about climbing up into the cock pit, bit decided against it.

That's when her eyes rested on the catwalk. She climbed the ladder to the center of the catwalk and just looked at the ships that were docked there. Each one had a purpose, each pilot had their fate, and Kasumi and Fress were about to challenge the fates face to face with this mission. Kasumi reached into her belt, and pulled out the one thing that helped her focus, and began to play the wood flute. As always the song came from her heart and soul. As she played she closed her eyes and felt the Force move, she felt the urgency of the mission, and she felt the need to be more focused and the need to stay calm. As she played her master appeared by her side. She listened to the music and waited silently with her old padawan. Even though Aayla couldn't say it in words that would match what she was feeling, she was proud of her former student. She had hoped to be the one to help her finish her training, but that was not the will of the Force. She had watched at Kasumi had grown in understanding and abilities under Yoda, and couldn't have been more happy.

Tag: Fress

 

IC: SG (npc Saber Guard), Chief Engineer Tim Williams, Samantha Irisa, Lieutenant Pembleton, Captain Rick Taller, Doctor Russell Cooke, the SD Lansdowne, Delicate Delinquent, and the Johnny Boy, respectively.
Location: The Greater Javin


Seated in his cabin aboard the Star Destroyer Lansdowne, on his way to a posting on some base or other, the Saber Guard, SG sat with his chrome helmet on the small desk beside his bunk, watching a holo-vid playing, with a paid of white ear-buds in his ears, so he didn’t have to listen to the sounds of a busy starship.

If he had too faults, it would be that he was a Darksider, and that he watched Bad Boys 2 way too many times.

The sound in his ears crackled and dissolved into white noise, and then the power went, plunging his cabin into darkness.

“Well, Emperor’s Sake, I was enjoying that!” Allowing the anger to course through him, SG used the Force to slide open his door, where flickering red emergency lighting provided enough illumination for him to find his helmet, modelled on those of the Imperial Royal Guard, and put it on. “And, someone died. Lots of someones.”
His head was enclosed in the polished chrome, and there was an illuminated gash for his eyes to see out of.

Making sure he had his lightsabres, SG strode out into the empty corridor, looking left, then right, then left again, then quickly did a double-take to his right, eyes widening as they focussing on the end of the corridor. A blister force-field crackled with blue energy, and beyond it, could be seen space, and shortlived fireballs from other parts of the ship.
“What in the Original Frag happened here?” He asked the world in general, voice high with surprise before he caught himself, “I mean, uh, WHO DARES?!”

No-one answered.

Standing in the middle of the scarlet-bathed corridor, only a blister shield between him and certain death, the Saber Guard closed his eyes, and used the Force to check the area.
Unlike some Force users in the galaxy, who shall remain nameless, he did not need to muscle his way onto a vessel’s bridge in order to see what was going on outside.

The Kingdom of Jod battleship was no longer in a fit state to register as a potential assailant, and the only sizable-looking vessel that did not have the familiar Force signatures of Imperial stormtroopers running through it, was that heavy cruiser-looking thing slowly backing away from the huge Venator.

Plus there were TIE fighters attacking it.

“How would you like a TIE fighter in the face?”

Eyes closed as he stood, statue-still, in the centre of the shattered corridor, he felt through the ether, focussing on one of those TIEs, getting into the head of the pilot.

Crash your ambulance-


“I’m not flying an ambulance.”

SG poked the tip of his tongue under his bottom lip in exasperated self-censure. This lack of focus was why he wasn’t a Sith Acolyte, his master would have said.
Oh well, in for a milli-cred, in for a credit.

Increasing his concentration, beads of perspiration pricking his forehead, SG tried again.

Crash your ambulance into the bridge of that cruiser.

“Uh, you know, Mike, I’d love to help. I got that administrative thing on my jacket, y’know? How about if I just run the sirens?”

Crash your ambulance into that cruiser, or so help me-

“Okay, but-”

The Saber Guard shut out the other’s thoughts, and stepped sideways to sag against the dented wall. C’Boath on a bike; he could see why saber guards were concentrated on the lightsabre stuff. The mind trick looked easy on flimsi, but it blooming wasn’t.

****

ISD Lansdowne - Bridge

The operator in the crew pits listening to the TIE squadron frequency pursed his lips in annoyance, hitting TRANSMIT to remind, “Besh-Two-Zero, maintain communication silence.”

“No no no no,” The pit lieutenant bounced over, placing a hand on the other’s shoulder, “When your pilot thinks he is flying an ambulance, you want to hear what he is saying.”

****

The Johnny Boy - Medical

Captain Taller looked closely at the repeater screens that had been brought down for him, giving him a view of the Delicate Delinquent. he wanted somewhere secure enough to latch their tractor beams onto, that would not leave them stranded in hyperspace, holding a strip of the Imperial ship’s hull.

That’d require a rescue even harder than going after Jeth’s sister.

All friendly vessels had now jumped to the rendezvous point, leaving just them and the interdictor, along with the compromised Javin Bucket and a fire-streaming bow-less Star Destroyer that should have thrown in the towel five minutes ago.

Movement in his peripheral vision made him aware of one TIE’s intentions!

“He’s going to ram the command tower! Oh no you don’t.”

On the Johnny Boy’s surface, a turbolaser moved round to target an area of space a couple dozen metres in front of the larger vessel’s bridge level.

Taller licked a forefinger and held it up, while the other hand settled over the fire controls.

Russell Cooke narrowed his eyes at the Merc leader. “You know there’s no wind in here, right?”

“Never tell me there’s no wind.”

****

Delicate Delinquent - Main Hangar

Sounil had changed her position since the first hit had tossed her on her choobie, and now stood facing Wolf, toes on one foot facing him, with her other back a little bit, and sideways, so that she was standing in a T. Her knees were bent at the knee too, to cope with the all but the strongest knocks.

Wolf updated her on matters onboard and elsewhere. “That’s quite the resume. Sounds like you have your orders, though I’m still a little iffy on where to put everyone. As soon as we go to hyperspace we plan on getting everyone assigned his or her quarters. The Authority was destroyed ten minutes ago. I could use some help in security if don’t mind working with an old war horse.”

Her mouth dropped open. "The Authority...gone?" She echoed.

She straightened up at the shock. She had seen plently of loss of life as a security agent, but for all the brutality of an Imperial prison, she had largely gotten used to the stability.

That huge hangar, chock full of vehicles, craft, mechanics. Extrapolate how many could work comfortably on the Jod vessel, and the amount of dead was mind-numbing.
She looked across at her shuttle, which had not lifted off as planned. Maybe that was why.

Then, almost as if it had been waiting for her, the cruiser took a third hit, throwing her down again!



****

Delicate Delinquent - Bridge

"Rear shields down to 34%!" Flavin yelled, as the Chief reeled from the third hit to their engine area.

"So tell me Chief, did I get here fast enough for you?"

Chief Williams was un-impressed to hear the youth’s voice coming from the Communications’ Station.

“Oh, so you can throw your voice now, can you? And just how does that help-” he turned towards Mac, “-in the current emerg-” He stalled, the young pilot nowhere to be seen.
He walked towards the doors, to see if he was hiding just beyond them.

Samantha turned from her console. “Sir, I think he is actually transmitting from one of our weapons' turrets.”

“But he was just here.”

“And now he's there. What the?” She looked up, her attention attracted by bright flashes of light splashing outside the forward windows.

"I'm reading a TIE coming in hot."

“Uh, don't worry; those droids manning the top guns shoukld take it. Except...”

Everyone on the bridge looked forward as the TIE fighter grew rapidly in size as it flew over the triangular dorsal hull between themselves and the front of the ship, flying between and above the first of the gravity well domes.

“He's never going to pull up in time!” Samantha shrieked, throwing up an arms so she did not have to watch, the interior of the bridge flashing a verdant green to reflect the turbolaser blast that slammed into the fighter from the side like a solid hit, hexagonal solar fin collapsing round the shot before the the disintegrating fireball flashed out of sifght to the left!

There was a slight nudge below them, significantly more gentle than the three concussion missile hits at their engines, then Taller's voice was coming over the speaker.

“'Delinquent from Johnny Boy; we've locked tractors onto you. Go! Go! Go!”

Williams breathed in relief and looked at the Jod technician. “What did one hawkbat say to the other hawkbat?”

"Ornithology puns? Now?"

“Get us the flock out of here.”

Flavin stared blankly, but only for a fraction of a second. "Oh, right!"

Stars turned to lines as the cruiser accelerated to lightspeed.

Tag: anyone on board

 

IC: Atin Taab
Lounge, The Crusader, enroute to Ord Pardron

"SouthCont? Was that this Ranklinge's ship? Sit down, Kid. Allow us to broaden your horizons."

Atin ignored the question from the trooper called Professor as he watched Simone head aft towards the barracks area. It was just four bunks inset into the bulkhead and not very comfortable for most people. Then again she was a stormtrooper, she had probably slept in worse. He turned back towards the other troopers. "Ok, lets play, deal me in."

For the next several hours the group of them relaxed and laughed as they played too many hands of Sabaac for Atin to count. The first few they had played without any wagers, to give him a chance to learn the game. After that it got cut throat and the stakes grew. Atin lost far more often than he won, but he considered his lost cash as paying for a life lesson. Besides, it wasn't like stormtroopers were a well paid lot, Atin figured he probably had more in his personal account than the entire squad of stormies put together. Still, despite the laughter Atin couldn't shake the feelings that the Professor's question had brought back to the surface within him. And though he had ignored the question at the time he couldn't help but to remember...

Atin was shaken from his reverie as Taab emerged from the corridor to the cockpit. "We will be coming out of hyperspace in a moment" he said to the stormtroopers. "Get your squad ready." Atin tried to hide it, but a strange little smile cropped up on his youthful face. Buir had stood there, in that exact spot, about five years ago when he uttered the words that would truely change Atin's life forever. "ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad" (I know your name as my child). Atin hadn't known what it had meant at the time, didn't know that this was the Mandalorian adoption ceremony and it made Atin the equal to any biological children that Taab had. But even then he had understood that was the moment when Marcus had ceased to exist and Atin Taab had been born.

TAG Sith

 

IC: Zieleb-Xan Macja
Starboard quad laser emplacement, Delinquent

Once Mac arrived at the location that Navi had marked for him he immediately realized that it was not a XX-9 heavy turbolaser that he had come accustomed to seeing on Imperial Star Destroyers, but a GX-7 medium quad laser cannon.

Kriffin’ Navi, you could have told me that there weren’t any turbolasers.

It’s configuration was similar to the AG-2G quads that he learned to operate in his time on the Chrono Thief. He hopped into the gunner’s seat, grabbed the twin firing-grips, and depressed each of the directional control pedals in turn. As he did he noticed one of the things that was different from the AG-2G and the GX-7. Instead of just his seat moving in sync with the laser, the entire pod moved from side to side. He tested the emplacement’s range of motion and found the second thing that Navi did not fulfill from his request.

And I can’t even see the rear from here, let alone defend it. Thanks again Navi.

But Mac decided to soldier on in spite of these obvious short comings. He threw on the intra-ship communicator headset and fired off his smart-aleck remark to the acting Captain of the stolen Imperial cruiser. As he quickly got a feeling for the quad-pod’s responsiveness he noticed the Johnny Boy, which was slowly making its way aft, along with the crippled Bucket, which they were pulling away from.

Suddenly a group of four TIEs turned to make a strafing run against his side of the ship. As they began to close in, Mac saw a flash out of the corner of his eye as the emplacement to his right sprung to life. The fighters were still outside of the effective range, he could only assume that his fellow gunner was trying to give the pilots something to think about. As the range indicator quickly ticked down closer and closer he closed his eyes to center himself on the Force.

He thought back to what his ‘father’ use to tell him, Remember, concentrate on the moment. Feel, don't think. Trust your instincts. So without even opening his eyes he moved the turret to the right slightly, depressed the triggers, and in rapid succession the quad cannons fired in their predetermined single shot configuration.

Mac opened his eyes as the last energy bolt left his fourth cannon. He watched as the first shot grazed the portside solar array, followed by the second that burned a hole through the same array and grazed the support strut that connected it to the cockpit ball, the third severed the solar array off sending the fighter into an abbreviated spin, and due to the spin the fourth shot impacted the high-pressure radioactive gas-fuel tank turning the “eyeball” into a flaming mess of shrapnel.

The sheer awe of the display he had just witnessed caused Mac to pause, but he was quickly snapped back to reality when green energy bolts splashed against the cruiser’s hull not too far from his position. He immediately squeezed off three more shots, none of them finding their mark, to cause his aggressor to change his vector, which he did.

Mac frantically looked about trying to see where the remaining TIEs were. On his sensor display it indicated that there were only two left, his fellow partner in crime must have taken one down himself. He watched as the remaining two circled around their position. The trajectory of their arc indicated the TIEs were trying to skirt past their position in order to make a run at the bridge. Mac opened fire, hoping to take at least one more down, only managing to score wounding shots on one. Luckily the other gunner was able to finish him off leaving just one lone Imp that was unfortunately out of the range of the two turrets.

I’m sure the forward turrets can handle him. Mac thought as he continued to visually scan for more inbound enemies. None came. All he felt was a slight jostle, which was different from the impacts they had been experiencing before, and then the stars outside of his viewport turned into lines as they made the jump to hyperspace.

Knowing that there was nothing more for him to do at the moment, Mac heaved a heavy sigh of relief. He reached for his datapad and sent a quick message for Navi to meet up with him in the hanger bay. He pulled the uncomfortable headset off, tossing it aside, then unstrapped himself from the turret and headed down for his newly scheduled appointment. Needing to calm his nerves, Mac took his flask off his utility belt, took a quick sip, and returned it to its designated place. He then grabbed his Hush-98 comlink and set it to Aurora’s frequency.

“Hey Moon, I’m on my way down to the hanger bay, care to meet up with me? We need to talk some things out.”

TAG: Sith-I-5


Sent from a Galaxy far away via R2-N6

 

Editing. Per Youtube copyright.