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Author	Topic: Symphony of Destruction
Radiance Registered: Sep '07	Date Posted: 5/19 1:09am Subject: RE: Symphony of Destruction
	IC: Migalia Bitalio Crew Quarters Migalia had pulled his armor out and set it out across his bunk. The T-visor helmet staring expectantly at him from the head of his bed. All of his armor was tinted black. He didn't really understand his own facination with the color black, it just.. suited him he supposed. He took a rag from the armor case and some polishing agent and began to shine his armor. It was a rare occasion that Migalia felt he needed to wear the armor, but it didn't mean that when he needed to don it... it should look as if he had been in every war since the begining of time. He had the breastplate resting on top of his crossed legs and was rubbing it so effectively that he could soon see his own reflection staring back at him. Migalia had elected to grab a rack in the corner of the quarters. It provided him the best view of the room overall. Sometimes, the warriors habit took over in times of quiet. The door to the quarters slid open and 3 men stood in the opening. The first one looked in, inquiringly. "Migalla Bitario?" The Mando looked up at the speaker and nodded them in. "For the record, it is pronounced Me-gale-ee-ah Bit-all-ee-oh, but yes that is me. Who are you three? My new squad?" The first man nodded. "That's correct Sir. The three of us will be working under you for the durration of this vessels service." "Like I said, It's Migalia, not Sir. I'm not an officer, I work for a living... I don't care what you call me as long as it isn't Sir. Understood?" The man on the right of the speaker smirked and exchanged a quick, amused glance with the one standing across from him, a severe, yet calm looking individual. Migalia motioned to the room. "Make yourselves comfortable gentleman. Might as well get aquianted while you are here. Tell me your names and what you do." The right most man casually walked to the closest bunk and slid down the side of it on his back. He propped a knee up and rested an elbow on it. The left most soldier sat on the edge of Migalia's bed and with a nod from the Mando, picked up a Beskar'gam bracer and began to polish it, using the same method as Migalia after a moment of watching. The original speaker had elected to stand, still standing at a position of parade rest in a militaristic fashion. His back was stock straight and he regarded the other two a little too coldly. Apparently displeased with their immediate lack of discipline. All of them looked to be in their mid twenties. The one sitting on the floor spoke up first. "Name's Jor'dan Reboct, fella's call me Techy. 25 years old. Weapons and computer specialist and expert slicer. You need to get into a locked door, a heavily encrypted safe, or just forgot the numeric combination to your wall locker over here to get some fresh underpants, I'm your man Chief, just say the word and it will be cracked in a nano second." Jor'dan looked to be about 5'6 and had wirey muscle lining his body. He was a thin young man that looked like he would be squashed in a fight, but probably could hold more than his own. He had let loose brown hair covering his eyes. He was a short man with a cocky attitude. Migalia hoped that that attitude wouldn't get in the way of their missions. As long as the kid followed orders, they wouldn't have any issues. Migalia nodded at him and then over at the one still standing for his information. "My name is Antaris Leedoman. 27 years old. My job title is Weapons specialist, demolitions expert, and Master Field Medic. Formerly of the Imperial navy. Graduated at the top of my class in the medical field and was sent to a Special Forces unit to provide combat support and medical assistance to squadmates who were injured. Both of my eyes are prosthetic." After a quick, uncomfortable glance at Tech, he continued a little bashfully. "For the sake of a nickname, my former squad mates called me.. Doc." A field medic eh? He will definately come in handy. But I hope we don't need his help most times. Doc was around 5'9, only slightly shorter than Migalia, fairly muscled and carried a standard sidearm with him. He had an air of precision about him. Understandably so for a Medic. Migalia could only guess as to why his eyes were mechanical. In the heat of combat they could probably zoom in to an almost microscopic level to identify bits of shrapnel or help to quickly diagnose what was wrong with the man he was working on and quickly fix said issue. Migalia assumed his hands were steady as a boulder in a river. Doc kept his hair short and trim. Brown eyes burned into Migalia with a personal pride at how he carried himself. "I take it your eyes were replaced for medical reasons?" Doc nodded. "It allows me to quickly aid the fallen by seeing in detail what they were injured by." "I suspected as much. Good to have you aboard Doc. What about you?" He glanced over at the severe man who had begun shining his armor for him. Narrow, icey green eyes met him in return. Almost so defined in color that simple the eyes, while not in any way the same, reminded Migalia of a Kaminoan. "I am Tenro Oshido, 29. People call me Wolf. I am a Blade Master, stealth expert and infiltrator. My skills are dealing death. Most of my targets pass from their existence without knowing they died. I follow my Nindo... an honor code passed down in my family for 10 generations. My loyalty is earned, not given. It is important that that is understood. By everyone." Migalia stared at the man next to him, who stared right back in a cool measured manner. Migalia got the feeling that very little scared Wolf. Intimidation would not affect this man, nor would bullying. Migalia immediately liked him, but was also extremely wary of him from the start. It was a strange bunch that had been assigned to him. Techy had walked in with his hands in his pockets, shirt untucked unkempt hair. Doc was the polar opposite, neat and precise, tucked in shirt and apparently pressed both pants and shirt to look more military. And then there was Wolf.... Wolf's cool narrow eyes.. he had seen a lot of action as far as Migalia could tell. His hair was long, at least shoulder length. But the front was kept up at a curved angle, exposing his forehead. From there it was combed straight and ended in a band that held the back up off of his shoulders and in a high top knot that was not a knot at all... but splayed out in a fashionable way. His clothing was unlike anything that Migalia had encountered. A large, open V neck white tunic and loose black trousers that were tucked into what appered to be boots but were too thin. The big toe on each foot had it's own space in the boot, while the rest were hugged together. Wolf's hands were covered in black wrapping, probably for grip on his swords and blades. The man had an aura about him... Migalia could't put his finger on it but it was as if he were pushing out a feeling of .. honor. Wolf was a man to be respected, if not feared. He had the warriors spirit, as did Migalia. Doc was the straight one, doing things by the book. And Techy was the joker of the bunch. His thoughts escaped him in the form of a weary chuckle and he nodded vigerously as he continued to shine his armor. "Alright then. I am Migalia Bitalio. Mandolorian Commando. I get the job done. Period. I will be leaning heavily on all of your skill sets as necessary. We are now a family. All of us. No one knows each other well yet but you will. You will get along with one another, I will see to that. That is all for now though, go get some rack time. I want to speak with you all in 7 hours, after we are underway." The group stood and nodded. Wolf was the last out the door. Migalia's insticts as a warrior were nagging at him and he had to oblige them. A dagger appeared in his hand from seemingly nowhere and was wizzing across the room, aimed to land in the wall beside Wolf's exiting head. He barely caught the twitch of Wolf's ear as he apparently heard the dagger in the air. The honor bound warrior spun so fast that Migalia had a problem tracking the hand movements. Before he knew what was going on, his own dagger was embedded with a twang next to his own head and wolf was on one knee, right arm crossed in front of his chest with his fingers in a knife hand position. His left arm tucked neatly behind his back. Migalia's eyes were semi wide with surprise at the mans speed and accuracy. Then he narrowed them again and smiled. "Very good Mister Wolf... Very good indeed." Tenro Oshido, simply nodded in an indulgant way, contempt burning in his eyes. He didn't understand the Mandalorian way. But he would. In time they would all know.... tag all. OOC: Sorry it was so long. I get carried away with details sometimes... -----signature----- Darth_Allana, the best girl a man could ever ask for.... Some things are worth waiting for. Always Member of the Game Designers Guild
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DarkestSith Registered: May '08	Date Posted: 5/19 6:27am Subject: RE: Symphony of Destruction
	IC: BackStab, Bridge Drake Antares Drake nodded and turned back to the controls. He glanced over the sensors, a few other ships were making their way up but nothing to be worried about. He deicded to occupy his time with a sim of the Battle of Genosis from a gunners position. TAG: Backstab...finally were leavin -----signature----- There is no peace, there is anger. There is no fear, there is power. There is no death, there is immortality. There is no weakness, there is the Dark Side. I am the Heart of Darkness. I know no fear, But rather I instill it in my enemies.
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Master_Dmentae Registered: Jun '06	Date Posted: 5/19 9:47am Subject: RE: Symphony of Destruction
	IC: Sillian - Bridge Command Chair Sillian noted the Commando in the turbolaser room "Clever human, using a text so i dont know what your typing" Sillian got a beep "Get off this liquid rock, OK" Sillian powered up the engines again after their primary warm up he had don before, and lifted off into the air. He turned the ship so that it faced the traffic hole that had been made by the Dock Control, and powered slowly away from the ground. He then switched the power up so they moved faster, now out of the way of possibly scorching anyone on the ground, he pushed the thruster harder and they soared through the gap. "Lets get Haggling" he said to himself. After they get into hyperspace capable distance, he tapped in the coordinates for Nar Shadda, and prepped to go "Abi, tell me when" Tag: Abi OOC: just say whatever ur goinna and then u can power it off and controll the docking if u want, u all post before i get on. -----signature----- Ace Combat Fan - "Dancing with the Angels!" Xbox Live User - Dmentae Oblivion Fan - "By Azura By Azura By..." Star Wars Knowledge Fan "In appearance, the Knowledge Bank doesn't look all that impressive…" Whatever else you want me to be - "Insert Quote Her
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chanbill5390 Registered: Jul '07	Date Posted: 5/19 12:31pm Subject: RE: Symphony of Destruction
	IC: Gerrik Thade Gerrik got into his fighter and activated all of the controls. Opening a channel to the bridge of the BackStab he addressed Captain Abigail. "Cue me in to the jump so I can synchronize with the jump, the last thing I want is a few light years between us." Gerrik said. "I have all of my guns, engines and shields at the ready, If we bump into anything nasty I should be able to take care of it, unless we bump into a cruiser, then it may take me a while." he added. "Thade out." He added, he then waited for a response from Abigail. TAG: Abigail -----signature----- "When 900 years you reach, look as good you will not."-Grandmaster Yoda, (Return of the Jedi) GM of When Galaxies Collide: A Major AU RPG
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BobaMatt Title: TFN EU Staff Registered: Aug '02	Date Posted: 5/19 12:48pm Subject: RE: Symphony of Destruction
	OOC: Why doesn't Gerrik land his ship in the Backstab's fighter capable hangar, instead? IC: Braks Munto The Goatgrass whined her way to full power and lifted, shooting her way out above the shipyards towards the Backstab, which was swiftly making her way to the jump point. "Hey, now, slow down, Abi!" He said into the comm, "Are you leaving me and the Jedi behind or are you gonna let us dock before you jump?" TAG: ForceForever, All -----signature----- The Clone Wars is OT quality good. Really. Emperor Fel's badassery knows no bounds. As Father and Son (An AU RP) - SEEKING MANDOS...see profile for info. http://boards.theforce.net/role_playing_forum/b10328/28357048/p1/?10
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ForceForever Registered: Apr '08	Date Posted: 5/19 2:41pm Subject: RE: Symphony of Destruction
	IC: Abigail Grim Location: On board BackStab's Bridge, In Mon Calamarian space. She opened a wide channel. The sensors had designated Thade's fighter as Saber One. "Saber One, you are cleared for a hanger landing. Goatgrass you are clear to dock on the port airlock." She waited until both ships were docked and secured, the magnetic clamps engaged on the Goatgrass with the structural integrity field engaged, and Saber One was safely inside the hanger. "Sillian You have a go." Moments later they entered hyperspace En Route to Nar Shaddaa. Tag: BobaMatt, Chanbill OOC: I'll post reaching Nar Shaddaa in a bit I have some work to finish. -----signature----- You have to organize us. We're not cowards, we'll do as you tell us, we'll fight. No. - Why not? - Soldiers deserve soldiers, Sir But one soldier, against seventeen. What are you going to do? I'm going to kill them all, Sir. BrentusofGath =
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DarkestSith Registered: May '08	Date Posted: 5/20 6:04am Subject: RE: Symphony of Destruction
	IC: Hyperspace, Backstab Drake Antares Drake grabbed the edge of his console as the Backstab shuddered into hyperspace. "A youngling could have made a smoother transition." Drake mumbled under his breath. He kept his eyes on the sensor board, watching for the telltale disturbance of an Interdictor Cruiser. TAG: Anyone or No one -----signature----- There is no peace, there is anger. There is no fear, there is power. There is no death, there is immortality. There is no weakness, there is the Dark Side. I am the Heart of Darkness. I know no fear, But rather I instill it in my enemies.
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Radiance Registered: Sep '07	Date Posted: 5/20 7:28am Subject: RE: Symphony of Destruction - Date Edited: 5/20 7:32am (1 edits total) Edited By: Radiance
	IC: Migalia Bitalio Crew Quarters Fire. Blood. Death. Migalia's home on Mandalore was being burned to the ground. His foster father laying on the ground, dying from a blaster wound. He had faught bravely. It was a warriors death. He deserved that. Migalia's right arm was in flames. Fire burned on top of his sleeve but somehow did not make it through to the skin. He had recieved a similiar blaster shot as his father. But had somehow managed to bring his hand up in front of the bolt before it burned through his chest. A hole had appeared in his hand as the bolt burned right through. The bolt carried into his chest but mostly dissipated across his shirt. The owner of the blaster that had killed his father and who had thought he had killed Migalia, began to walk away. Pristine white armor reflecting the flames against a darkened sky. The Ordo farm was nothing but cinders. The Clone troopers had attacked Mandalore... for what? Most likely to wipe out any remaining Mandolorians, the people that presented them with a real challange. Their pregenitors... The Clone trooper looked around for any survivors before starting back to join up with the rest of his squad, already walking to their transport. thunk The Clone Trooper turned slowly to see what the plunking on his helmet had been. He stopped in his tracks as he saw the young mandalorian boy, no older than 19, standing there with a hole the size of a small data disk in his left hand, cuts and bruises on his face, and his right arm engulfed in flames. Yet the kid stood there as if he felt nothing. A fearsome look in his eyes. A rock in his good hand. A chuckle escaped the soon to be storm trooper. The kid didn't have a chance. "Silly barve, you're dead." Migalia's head tipped down. A ragged voice escaped his throat. "Gar nayc Mando'ade....Gar aruetii....." (You're not mandolorian... You're an outsider) The Clone trooper flinched. He wasn't fluent in Mando'a, but he got the gist of the meaning. This kid was staring him down with a rock while he had a blaster and still, he made threats. Something about that made the trooper scared. Migalia began walking towards him, head still tilted towards the ground. "Hold it kid. I'll put you down if you come any closer!" Migalia's eyes slowly came up as he continued to walk. It was as if they pierced the clones helmet and dug into his own soul. "Gar bal akaan'ade?" (You and what army?) The blaster raised. The rock soared. The troopers world became pain as the small rock was embedded into his throat, just below where his helmet covered. He couldn't breath. The blaster fell to the ground as both hands reached for his throat to try and ease the pain and get some air flowing back. As air slowly came back to him, he noticed two boots in front of him. He looked up in terror as Migalia's dead eyes stared down at him. His hands reached down slowly and grabbed the mans helmet. The trooper tried futily to detatch his arms. A quick jerk to the left and the Trooper's hands fell lifelessly to the ground. His squad commander turned to see if he was straggling and gasped as he saw the scene finish. He barked orders and rifles came to bear. Migalia's hand was now filled with the grip of a DC-17 blaster pistol. The captain gave the order to open fire... 3 minutes later, a single, final blaster shot was heard. A transport lay in metal slag and fire, a squad of clone troopers lay dead. Migalia had a streak of blood running down his face. His eyes, unfocused and distant. Then they immediatly snapped into focus and glared at the one watching the whole scene. Migalia sat bolt upright in his bunk, silver slug thrower ripped from his hip holster and pointing around the room, hammer cocked back, searching for a target. His eyes were wide as if he had seen a ghost. Cold sweat ran down his back, and his breathing came in short gasps. The Mandolorian blinked a few times and swallowed hard. He was still alone... He placed his thumb on the hammer of his pistol and gently rode it forward. His legs swung out to the side of his bed and he placed his face into his cupped hands, pistol grip resting against his forehead. A sigh escaped him as he tried to clear his mind of the past. Mandolorians were not supposed to fear their past. He was not ashamed of what he had become. So why was this vision plaguing his dreams...? tag any, none. -----signature----- Darth_Allana, the best girl a man could ever ask for.... Some things are worth waiting for. Always Member of the Game Designers Guild
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chanbill5390 Registered: Jul '07	Date Posted: 5/20 1:15pm Subject: RE: Symphony of Destruction
	OOC: Gerrik is an Observer, plus he enjoys piloting his own fighter, not to mention he's a lot more maneuverable than a cruiser. But I guess I can stay in the hanger. IC: Gerrik Thade Gerrik docked on the right side of the hanger, if they ran into an enemy fleet he'd be the first to enter the fray. He got out and walked to the bridge. "You know its easier to 'observe' from outside. But I have my fighter prepped in case we get into any sticky business." Gerrik said as he walked up to the captain. "I hope you can stand being around me for as long as I'm on board." he added with a smirk. TAG: Abigail -----signature----- "When 900 years you reach, look as good you will not."-Grandmaster Yoda, (Return of the Jedi) GM of When Galaxies Collide: A Major AU RPG
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ForceForever Registered: Apr '08	Date Posted: 5/20 2:22pm Subject: RE: Symphony of Destruction
	IC: Abigail Grim Location: On board BackStab, Bridge, Hyperspace Thade walked up behind Abigail "You know its easier to 'observe' from outside. But I have my fighter prepped in case we get into any sticky business. I hope you can stand being around me for as long as I'm on board." "I am aware of your status, but since there is nothing between us and Nar Shaddaa except New Republic space, I doubt we will run into anything that would warrant a full scale battle." In fact it was Abigail's intentions to reenter hyperspace if they did run into any thing short of an Imperial Interdictor. She was not about to go into battle in an untested vessel. "As for standing you, maybe we got off on the wrong foot. Its not that I dislike the Jedi, in fact I wish Skywalker the best of luck to reestablish the Order, I just find Skywalker rather pushy and I wouldn't put it past him to have put you here to try to change my mind." She got up. "Well it will be a few hours until we revert to real space. Sillian let me know if anything unplanned happens." Tag: Dmentae, Chanbill5390 -----signature----- You have to organize us. We're not cowards, we'll do as you tell us, we'll fight. No. - Why not? - Soldiers deserve soldiers, Sir But one soldier, against seventeen. What are you going to do? I'm going to kill them all, Sir. BrentusofGath =
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BrentusofGath Registered: Aug '05	Date Posted: 5/20 7:04pm Subject: RE: Symphony of Destruction - Date Edited: 5/20 7:24pm (1 edits total) Edited By: BrentusofGath
	IC - Scotty officer's rec A bottle on the table before him, Scotty watched it slide gently back and forth. He remained silent, thinking about all the real repairs he'd need to do once they reached Nar Shaddaa and got some proper parts. The comm unit on the wall (Scotty never carried a personal one unless he was on a mission) went off and he wearily got up to answer. "Scott here." "Boss," the Calcim, his twilek second replied, her voice sounded a bit upset, "we've a problem in the secondary hypercoil. The energy levels have spiked - the thing's going to overheat unless we can cool it down!" Scratching his forehead, Scotty was confused. "You should know as well as I do that all you have to do is shunt everything to the main coil and shut down the secondary - let the tertiary coil do some work for a while." "We've tried that," her voice was growing more harried. "It didn't work. Something's wrong but we can't figure it out! You need to get down here, boss before we burn up." Grumbling, Scotty clicked off the comm and headed back to the engineroom. engineroom Examining the problem, Scotty knew immediately what went wrong. In his necessary jury rigging of the hypercoils, he'd had to disconnect the power capacitor and reroute it through a redundant system. Unfortunately, the redundant system had failed upon leaving spacedock. Everything was too hot to touch at the moment, but Scotty was confident. "We'll make it to Nar Shaddaa, it's not that far. We may have a rough ride, but we'll make it. Then we'll need to add a secondary power capacitor to the shopping list because this thing is already burnt out." He clicked on the comm to call the captain. "Captain Grim," he said, "if we haven't had a rough ride yet, we will. There's a problem with the secondary hypercoil, but don't worry, we'll make it and then I'll have to tear this place apart and put it back together again." Switching off the comm, he turned back to Calcim. "Just keep her together til we reach Nar Shaddaa. I'm going back to the rec area and finish that drink." Tag: FF -----signature----- In time or so I'm told, I'm just another soul for sale, oh well Feel it in my bones when you break my back, break it just to watch me bend Why'd you have to go and Let it Die? -Foo Fighters http://conscienceoftheking.blogspot.com/
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witchdoctor187 Registered: Aug '07	Date Posted: 5/20 9:41pm Subject: RE: Symphony of Destruction
	Dresden Karn/ Backstab Crew Quarters Dresden lay sleeping in his bunk, one of the few things to do while on a long trip to a world such as Nar Shadaa. “Nar Shadaa” repeated Dresden to himself, “I thought I’d never go back there, but destiny has a way of sneaking up on you don’t it?” whispered Dresden to himself before drifting off to sleep. 5 Years earlier… I man with fearful eyes ran through the streets of Nar Shadaa, his clothes drenched in sweat and from the dirty water in the back alleys of the world wide metropolis. He trips over a grate that is sticking up, causing him to fall face first onto the dirty, trash littered street. He looks behind him with a fear in his eyes, the kind of fear someone might find in an animal that knows it’s cornered and sees its own demise at the end, but still keeps going. As his eyes finally adapt to the lightless alleyway, he sees at the end of the alley he came from a man, a tall man, a stern man, a man riddled with hate, hurt, and revenge. The pursuer wears simple clothes, almost those of a citizen of the poverty ridden planet. His light sand colored robes wave lightly in the wind, and his face is hidden with a scarf that he has wrapped around his head, only revealing his eyes. This faceless stranger slowly walks towards the fallen man, a Bluebolt blaster in his hands, ready to fire The man gets up and again begins to try in a futile effort to outrun his pursuer. He only wished he had his companions here, but they were dead, they were all dead, the faceless one had killed them, he had come right into their apartment and killed them all. Only he managed to escape by jumping off the balcony, but he knew his luck was running out. He didn’t know what this man wanted, but it was obviously something to do with his profession, you see he was a merc, a gun for hire, or at least he was until tonight. He rounds a corner, the end in sight, could I actually make it? He thinks to himself as he is within mere yards of a hotel entrance, his salvation, a place to hide. But as his spirit soars, a shot rings out as the faceless stranger steps into his path, only 40 or so yards in front of him, letting loose a barrage of fire from his blaster. A bolt catches the man in the upper thigh, throwing him backwards a few feet, and sending him onto his back. Now the man’s spirit has diminished, so much for hoping. The faceless man walks near, slinging his blaster over his shoulder. People watch from their windows, doorways and balconies at the event taking place. The faceless man is now right above the cowering man, who holds his leg to stop the bleeding, whimpering, pleading for his life. He looks up at the silent figure standing over him. “Who are you!” he shouts with the fire of anger and desperation in his eyes. “A man you should have killed when you had the chance,” says the man simply “I’ve killed many men, their faces are now blended into a mass of faces, and maybe I should have killed you, if I knew who you were!” he shouts again. The stranger bends down and grabs the man by the collar of his shirt and proceeds to lift him up off his feet, raising him to eye level. The man spat in the strangers face his last act of defiance. “That was your second mistake,” says the stranger coldy. “Oh really, and what was my first?” says the man “Not killing me!” says the stranger with anger in his voice he drops the man to the ground as he rips of the scarf covering his face. “Karn!” are the only words out of the man’s mouth before a blaster’s barrel is put to his face and the trigger pulled. A bright flash is the last thing the man would see in his lifetime, just a flash. The stranger now known as Karn looks down upon the body of his slain foe with cold merciless eyes. He then turns and walks down a dark alley of the Nar Shadaa slums. Present Day… Dresden awoke in a sweat again, nearly hitting his head on the bunk above him. He slides out of bed and sits motionless on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands. He then wipes the sweat from his forehead and stands up, clutching the railing of the bunk above him. “It was just a dream, just a bad dream,” he says to himself, a way of denying the past, a method of pushing it back into the farthest reaches of his mind where it belongs. He then recovers and then slides back into the covers of his bunk, and then slowly but surely, drifts back off to sleep. Tag: None, Anyone
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Master_Dmentae Registered: Jun '06	Date Posted: 5/21 9:55am Subject: RE: Symphony of Destruction
	IC: Sillian - Bridge Sillian had not being listeneing to the captains and the Jedi's conversation, but as soon as his name was added, he instantly snapped his attention to the voices "Will do, Ab" as he sat in the bridge, contemplating what was going to happen, he checked the cameras onboard to see if anyone was doing anything...'unexpected' he still diddn't trust these people, hence being glued to this durasteel-backed chair so he couldn't be crept up on. Tag: Any, None OOC: by unexpected, what do you mean? -----signature----- Ace Combat Fan - "Dancing with the Angels!" Xbox Live User - Dmentae Oblivion Fan - "By Azura By Azura By..." Star Wars Knowledge Fan "In appearance, the Knowledge Bank doesn't look all that impressive…" Whatever else you want me to be - "Insert Quote Her
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ForceForever Registered: Apr '08	Date Posted: 5/21 1:56pm Subject: RE: Symphony of Destruction
	OOC: In the interest of furthering the game I am going to take some liberties in this post, rest assured I am not going to do anything to anyones character. IC: Abigail Grim Location: BackStab, En Route to Telos The BackStab had been on Nar Shaddaa for almost a week before Scott had given the BackStab his seal of approval. It had taken Scott and his entire crew to get her the way he wanted, and the amount of parts they had required had set Abigail's personal credit accounts back quite a ways. While Scott and his crew had worked over the BackStab, Abigail and the others had gone into Nar Shaddaa to gather what information they could. In the end they had a couple of good leads on potential targets. They had also picked up a few new crew members, Phoenix Grand was an experienced pilot and was now in charge of Two Flight. Abigail was going to command One Flight herself while Jacob Nive commanded BackStab in her absence. The other newcomer was a Mandalorian by the name of Nox Onus. She had, in that week of being dirt side, checked them both out intensely. Both of them had colored pasts, but her gut feeling said they were good men to add to her crew. She had put Nox in charge of three flight. Now with a full compliment they were on their way to Telos, were a Imperial warehouse was just waiting for them to loot it. the Garrison seemed to be light and the local fighter squadron was relatively new and unused to combat. The reason for the light security was because Telos was inside what the Empire thought of as their safe zone. They figured it was to far in for the New Republic to hit, and while a New Republic raid would have a tough time getting to it. The BackStab was small enough to go more or less unnoticed. She activated the ships intercom. "All Commanders, and Flight leaders please report to the conference room." She headed to the conference herself. Tag: Everyone. OOC: this is going to be our first mission briefing. -----signature----- You have to organize us. We're not cowards, we'll do as you tell us, we'll fight. No. - Why not? - Soldiers deserve soldiers, Sir But one soldier, against seventeen. What are you going to do? I'm going to kill them all, Sir. BrentusofGath =
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NickLitYouAFlame Registered: Feb '07	Date Posted: 5/21 3:09pm Subject: RE: Symphony of Destruction
	Of Phoenix Grand BackStab Phoenix had already been in the conference room when he heard the order. His new commander called him to the very place he was, so he steeled himself to wait. Hopefully, Abigail Grim would be the first to the room and Phoenix would get to see more of the pretty captain. He had barely been in the crew for a few hours and his commander was asking favors of him. The latest was that he return to a cockpit. Phoenix was reluctant, but instinct told him to go along. Without enough time to do so, Phoenix was stuck with out a personal ship. Doubtless, he would be making major changes to the Clutch fighter that Abigail employed. Phoenix settled back to rest against the table in the center of the room. Behind him lay a holoprojector for briefing. In the meantime, Phoenix pulled out his vibroknife and with it switched off, he cleaned under his nails. Tag: FF -----signature----- Flannel Shoes
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