Jedi Council Forums - STAR WARS: INTERVENTION (A story-telling style OT starfighter game)---Always taking new players!

Post Reply | Active Topic Notification | Previous Active Topic | Next Active Topic

« 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 » - Previous | Next | Reload

Author	Topic: STAR WARS: INTERVENTION (A story-telling style OT starfighter game)---Always taking new players!
Bravo Registered: Sep '01	Date Posted: 7/26 8:04pm Subject: STAR WARS: INTERVENTION (A story-telling style OT starfighter game)
	IC: Jason Lasso Aces Club, Port Haven "Hi, Jason," she said, not bothering to hide the fact that she was following the two others on their way to the Octagon. Mira was shorter than Jason (and the rest of the Mercs), so she had to rise onto her toes slightly to peer past Jason at the retreating form of Havah Jeth. She looked at Hal, and back to Jason, and back over the taller man's shoulder. There was no need to say what she was doing - it was obvious. So, she slipped past Jason and quickened her pace to catch up with Jeth, who was almost out of sight. "See you later," she called over her shoulder. Her hand rested against her blaster as she glanced expectantly into every alleyway she passed. Her senses heightened, she smoothed back a stray hair and tried vainly to look oblivious. Before Jason had a chance to say anything, Mira was gone, following Havah Jeth to the match, "Have fun!" Jason called back. The Merc had no intention of going to the fight: what role model would he be giving his fellow Mercs to watch his fellow comrade, Winterkill, get the stuffing's beat out of him? Jason had been on quite the journey the last two years and although he had had more slip ups then success it seemed like, he was determined to try his best to change his ways and get back on track with his life. Plus, the mercenary thought, Someone has to watch their backs. Dernan Vask jogged past Lasso on his way out of the Aces Club to catch up with the group. All too soon however, the bar was empty, all of the mercenary pilots making their way to the Octagon. Although two other people remained: the bar tender and Hunter One. "So," Hunter One said aloud in the quiet bar, so quiet that you could have heard a pin drop as the bar tender nervously wiped a glass dry after cleaning it, "They say you're the kid with the natural hands. No real starfighter experience before this," Hunter One took a sip of his drink and stayed looking at the row of bottles on the wall behind the bar table, not turning to Jason. Jason was where the Mercs had been, finishing his water and replied as he looked at Hunter One, "That's right." "My father had hands like that too," Hunter One said, looking 'beyond' the wall into a distant past of memories, "He was a natural behind the cockpit," The man smiled fondly of something the memories brought up, "I guess he passed it on to me." For a man who's reputation was second to that of Darth Vader, Lasso found that Hunter One had a very human side to him that many didn't see. Or at least that's what the young pilot wanted to think. There were a few moments of awkward silence in the bar before the empty glass that Hunter One held in his hand came down again to the bar tender's table top and the pilot got up. When he reached Jason, he looked down at him and said, "Be careful of you're Captain, Rick Taller. He's not everything he seems to be," With that, Hunter One started his way towards the exit. "Why's that?" Jason asked, turning around in his seat to look at Hunter One. Hunter One stopped in the doorway and turned his head to the side as he spoke, "He killed his best friend. His best friend was my father." Jason just sat there as Hunter One left, unable to come up with a reply. "Do you want another water, sir?" The bar tender asked, breaking the silence. Jason shook his head as he got up and looked at the bar tender, "No thanks. Have a good one," Leaving Aces Club, Jason made his way to the Johnny Boy and down into the starship's hanger. With most of the crew on shore leave, the ship itself was pretty much empty except for a skeleton crew and the security droids, which meant the hanger was equally empty. Two techs who had drawn the short straws for shore leave ship duty were outside the office playing sabacc at a table. When Jason entered, one of the techs asked, "Can we help you with anything?" "No, just here to take a look at my ship," Jason replied and the techs went back to their sabacc game. Coming up on his yellow Naboo Royal n-1 Starfighter with a chromium front finish, he ran his fingers along her smooth hull. "Hey Sweetheart," He said softly, calling the ship by her name, "How you doing?" Jason rounded the front of the fighter, looking at her with a detailed eye for any imperfection of her hull. Dude, Lasso's white and red R2 astromech, came rolling across the hanger, whistling and beeping, Jason looked his droid's way and exclaimed, "Are you following me too today!?" The astromech came to a halt by Lasso and replied something sarcastically, which had Jason smirking and shaking his head, "Poor Ler, he can't seem to win at anything. Nick beat him earlier in a game and now you just beat him! Poor guy!" Dude inquired Jason of what he was doing and the human answered his droid back as he contuined to look over his starfighter's hull, "Just getting some time away to think Dude. It just...I don't know man, sometimes I miss them, my parents and all. They could make sense of life for me when I couldn't." Dude replied back with something and Jason nodded, "Yeah, I guess you could say that. But I can't help but give this rumor some evidence Dude, even if it is from Hunter One. I mean we're all mercenaries here, not angels. So it would make sense that some of us are carrying a shady past with us. It just sucks and all. So, is the Sweetheart ready for another battle?" Jason asked as he climbed the ladder that was by his fighter and into the cockpit, getting a feeling for the cockpit and the controls. Dude answered an affirmative and Jason nodded, "Sounds good to me. I better get started on my research. Want to help me?" The astromech droid answered with excitement and Jason smiled as he climbed down from his starfighter and made his way to his personal quarters with the astromech droid he had owned personally ever since he left on his journey of two years. If anyone knew Jason Lasso inside and out, it would have been Dude, who had been constantly at his side for the last few years and who Jason would never give a memory wipe to. Tag anyone -----signature----- Believer in Jesus Christ "All right, I'll give it a try." - Luke Skywalker, ESB "No. Try not. Do... or do not. There is no try." - Yoda, ESB "Now, be brave, and don't look back. Don't look back." - Shmi Skywalker, TPM
	Post Reply \| Quote Reply \| Active Topic Notification \| Private Message \| Post History
greyjedi125 Registered: Apr '02	Date Posted: 7/28 7:44pm Subject: STAR WARS: INTERVENTION (A story-telling style OT starfighter game)
	Chris Streets, Jason Lasso, Terrel Vacks, Havah Jeth, Mira T'saaren, Hal Crawford, Dernan Vask & Winterkill Free Trader's Alley, Port Haven, En route to the Octagon It all begins with one shot. "Put your hands in the air or I'll blow your head-off!!" Chris Streets was rather surprised how truly convincing he sounded as he lied to the sniper who was about to take a shot, presumably at Winterkill. Why else would he be here at Hocker's Hill Observatory, pointing his weapon into Free Trader's Alley. The chiss may have lied about shooting the man in the head, but not about shooting him. As a Merc, he knew that 'you never point a weapon unless you intend to use it'. But, apparently the sniper was used to having his life threatened on a daily basis, given his lack of reaction. Either that, or he was a deaf-sniper. At this point it didn't matter which. Streets saw...knew the sniper was about to squeeze one off, so he beat him to the punch and squeezed the trigger. Or so he thought. Two red flashes lit the observatory as two simultaneous shots were fired. The sniper and his weapon went down clattering on the observatory floor. Streets cursed and rushed to the man who was unconscious. The Merc checked the sniper's pulse and sighed in relief. The man was still alive, though wounded and unconscious. Fortunately for him, the sniper hadn't looked his way since he was so intent on his target. At that thought, Streets quickly got up, and even before he came to the railing, he could hear pandemonium already unfolding down below. Damn it! Now he had no idea if the sniper had hit his intended target or not. The chiss licked his lips as his mind swirled through options. The best plan of action would be to find something to bind the sniper, and perhaps take position here...just in case. Yeah, that's what he would do. Ten seconds ago..... "You! you're the one who sold me those faulty motivators!!" Winterkill accused the toydarian angrily. "What?? Me...? I don't even sell..." The toydarian vendor didn't even have a chance to finish as Winterkill snatched the sample tray, sending the toydarian's wares flying all about. "Nooooo!!!" In the same instant that Winterkill moved away to snatch the tray, a blaster bolt flashed by right next to where he was standing, effectively singeing his hood. "SHOOTER!! SHOOTER IN THE ALLEY!!" someone screamed. Needless to say, chaos and pandemonium followed as both vendors and buyers sought some kind of cover, but little was to be had. Vending wagons were not made for sheltering purposes. A stampede ensued as panicked sentients sought to escape with their lives from what was perceived as a personal threat. Winterkill quickly moved against a wall and crouched low. Even in these conditions he was able to move through the crowd better than most. Dark eyes peered through the panicked patrons fleeing the scene as he spotted one of his shadows, futilely looking for him. The other one...was nowhere to be seen for the moment. That needed to change quickly. Before he moved to 'take out' his current target, Winterkill held his position for several heartbeats and looked towards the throng bottle-necking Brigand's Bend. Why was he not surprised when he saw two figures at either end forcing their way 'into' the alley, literally going against the flow of the escaping crowd. The nagai snorted his contempt and moved off. At least those two would be slowed down and quite tied up for the moment. This one however.... His shadow was completely looking in the wrong direction when Winterkill rose next to him. The nagai already saw that the weequay was armed with a blaster pistol, which was held low so it would not be too obvious to the crowd. Since the weequay was not too responsive to the sentients bumping him as they fled the scene, Winterkill actually had to tap him on the shoulder. The weequay tried to turn, as he probably realized that he'd been had, but never got to do so, as the tray Winterkill had procured was slammed loudly and forcefully against his head. More than once. With his quick reflexes, Winterkill snatched the weequay's weapon as its unconscious form fell to the ground. Evidently, He would no longer be needing it. A small clicking sound not too far behind him caught his attention suddenly. Only then did Winterkill realize that it was he who had been had. He didn't have to look back to know that his second shadow was probably waiting for him to take out his partner, the bait, for him to expose himself. "Damn, it!" He cursed under his breath. How could he had fallen for such a basic trap. Stoopa!! All he needed now was just small window of opportunity. Just one second, that was all. "What's wrong nagai? Not feeling so clever I bet. Nice move with the crowd. Just not good enough." The second shadow said from a safe enough distance. The cloaked figure stood by a fallen over vending stand. Its weapon drawn and pointing at Winterkill's back. Havah Jeth could see Winterkill's current predicament quite clearly, and more. Notably, the arkanian could follow events ever since the blaster bolt was fired into the alley. As it was, he even knew the trajectory from where the bolt had come from, though he had no idea who had fired it. What was more, he could even pick out the two trying to make it into the alley from Brigand's Bend. Those two were obvious, and didn't seem to be having much luck. But the two crouching figures moving along either side of the buildings surrounding them...hmmm. That could present a potential issue. The good news was, no other threats seemed to be present, at least as far as he could tell, and Jeth was quite capable in the reconnaissance department. Mira, Hal, and Dernan had almost lost Havah Jeth, but thankfully he'd stopped at a vendor to purchase a robe. That gave them enough time to come to a discrete distance of their Squadron Leader. Soon after, pandemonium took hold of the alley after a blaster bolt had been fired. Things became alot less clear after that as both patrons and vendors started to run for their lives. Something was going on, that much was clear, and as skilled Mercs, there was no doubt that they could quickly assess the situation and take action accordingly. Tag: Bravo, Mitth_Fisto, oreotragus, bterrik (All Mercs involved ) ( Ran out of time. Sorry about that. Forgive typos and bad grammar ) -----signature----- "Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter."_Yoda "I find your lack of Faith disturbing."_ Darth Vader "There is always Hope."_Luke Skywalker "Make me one with everything." (Hungry Monk)_Ameteth
	Post Reply \| Quote Reply \| Active Topic Notification \| Private Message \| Post History
Mitth_Fisto Registered: Sep '05	Date Posted: 7/29 12:51am Subject: STAR WARS: INTERVENTION (A story-telling style OT starfighter game)
	IC: Havah Jeth Free Trader's Alley, Port Haven From the first shot to the moments of Winterkills relocation he noticed a few extra bodies that weren't going with the crowd. A couple were vendors trying to save their wares or themselves behind them, others were just those furtively tried to head the opposite direction of the crowd for a few moments before succumbing to the will of the many pressing bodies all around them... Six stood out from among the rest, Winterkill if he had read the last motions he had observed correctly was moving to deal with the two nearest him, that left four, the one on this side of the alley, the one opposite, and the two buffoons who couldn't defeat the crowd but stubbornly kept trying to at least not loose ground. Deciding quickly he headed to the same side as Winterkill, true the Nagai could probably take care of himself...but three against one was rougher odds. As he moved uncertain if another sniper shot would ring out ending Winterkill he knew he had to end this quickly and get him to cover once more. After all what a sniper can't see he can't shoot. Then of all things he watched as he closed in as a part of the rushing crowd Winterkill take the wrong one down first! Of all things to do, he had thought Winterkill better then that. Stepping out of the stream and to the small eddying side he brought his Stohkli spray stick up in a fluid motion to point out of his robes. The nozzle as he took a step forward was but a short distance behind the head of the man now talking to Winterkill, definitely not pro's of his calaber than but still well positioned mid-levels. Quickly he signed with his free hand in their silent ops language as quick as he could, every second was one the sniper may be using to get a better bead before killing Winterkill, Sniper-behind + 4-move into crowd on one...one! Pulling the trigger the hiss filled the air as his body performed a small wave from the recoil, the thin stream of expelled string flew by the shooters ear. The sound behind and close proximity motion to draw his attention for a second as the string flew expanding as it crackled mere meters before the end of its fast flight with raw energy wrapping and dropping the one assailant coming down this side of the ally with enough energy to take down a fighting wookie. Needless to say not getting up anytime soon. Next in a fluid motion he dropped the back of the stick by his legs, moving the two steps forward to swing and use the stun pad located on that end...that is so long as Winterkill hadn't made an end of the being or the sniper decided to shoot him instead during the interim. TAG: oreotragus, bterrik (All Mercs involved) -----signature----- Pride before the fall Humility before honor Friendship is unnecessary like philosophy like art It has ho survival value; rather it's one of those things that gives value to survival http://boards.theforce.net/fan_art/b10020/25366431/p1/?79
	Post Reply \| Quote Reply \| Active Topic Notification \| Private Message \| Post History
oreotragus Registered: Jul '09	Date Posted: 7/29 9:53pm Subject: STAR WARS: INTERVENTION (A story-telling style OT starfighter game)
	IC: Mira T’saaren Free Trader’s Alley, Port Haven (en route to the Octagon) “SHOOTER!! SHOOTER IN THE ALLEY!!" a voice screamed. Any attempt at looking casual and oblivious ceased for Mira T’saaren when the shot burst into the ground in Free Trader’s Alley, just as she had entered the wide, bustling avenue and gotten her bearings. She had just caught sight of Winterkill next to a Toydarian vendor, In an instant, the crowds had mass-panicked and were leaving the area as fast as they could, shoving and pushing to get away from the danger. Wares and shop tables were overturned in the rush as screams punctuated the somewhat dusty air. Mira had immediately drawn her blaster pistol and crouched beside the nearest wall for whatever cover she could get. The bare wall offered little protection. Keeping low, she hurried to a doorway recess in the wall ten feet away and squeezed up against the inside edge. She peered carefully around the edge, and noticed a few individuals that were not fleeing with the rest of the crowds. This obviously betrayed their intentions, and Mira wondered if it was confidence or plain stupidity that influenced this. She raised her blaster vertically beside her face, ready to snap off a shot if needed. Her gray eyes scanned the roofs of the surrounding buildings – no apparent threat. Looking out again, she watched as Winterkill and Havah Jeth took out two of the assailants. That Stohkli spray stick was certainly interesting, she noted mildly. Never seen one of those in person. It appeared as though her two fellow Mercs could handle themselves in a fight quite capably. Her own skills providing cover for them from the wide front of the alley, she tightened her finger fractionally around the trigger of her weapon as she lowered it toward the center of the action. Tag: greyjedi125, Mitth_Fisto, all Mercs involved -----signature----- There isn't a mome rath born who can outgrabe me! Watch out for the Hovering Bat-Dog and the Long-haired Wolfcat
	Post Reply \| Quote Reply \| Active Topic Notification \| Private Message \| Post History
Bravo Registered: Sep '01	Date Posted: 7/30 2:17pm Subject: STAR WARS: INTERVENTION (A story-telling style OT starfighter game)
	OOG: Here's a link to some information regarding a character used below: Hallomar IC: Jason Lasso Personal Quarters, Johnny Boy, Port Haven Jason Lasso watched as the information scrolled down before him on his console: Information Unavailable "WHAT!" Jason all but blurted out. He rushed through doing a series of searches again on the HoloNet, then tried other search methods. Still, everything he knew to search was coming up with the same title of Information Unavailable. He scratched his chin as he stared at the screen. His history side of him was in full swing as it was with a downed fighter, a dead pilot who had a red gem in his flight suit pocket, a red gem that turned out to be something more then it appeared (it was odd as it was to have a dead fighter pilot carrying a red gem anyways), and now someone had the same interest he and Nick had. The race was on...history style! But who was racing them and what did they know that Jason and Nick didn't know? And what did Jason and Nick know that they didn't know? Before Jason could go any deeper into his thoughts, Vacks pounded on his door, "Lasso, we have blaster fire in the alley way!" "CRAP!" Jason said, scrambling to his feet and on his way out, grabbing his E-11 blaster rifle on his way out. Meeting Vacks outside the door, the soldier was already in his black Storm Commando suit, his helmet at his side. Jason wore his standard ground operations clothing...it was a nice bet to always be ready at any Spacer's bar, even at Port Haven. "What do we have?" Vacks started walking down the corridor and Jason fell in step at his side. "Winterkill has got himself into some trouble. Sniper in the alley way. Streets was headed up that way, haven't heard from him since. Other Mercs are in the general location as far as we know." "Coruscant Aces?" Jason asked. Vacks shook his head, "Negative. Its too sloppy. Plus, however much Hunter One may hate Captain Taller, he won;t kill him in cold blood or attack one of our squadron members...unless a contract calls for it." "So, no contract?" "No, Aces Club rules are simple and straight forward. In order to be part of the club and share in the benefits of protection, funding, and support that Aces Club offers to its members, all of you're missions have to be public information to other Aces Club members. If you take out a contract on another mercenary squadron---which is frowned upon---and you don't report it, you're kicked out of Aces Club, no questions asked. Hunter One may be a Hutt's son, but his status in Aces Club is too important to him to risk being kicked out." "So who?" Vacks looked at Lasso, "We don't know." "Okay, so what's the plan?" Vacks and Lasso headed towards the hanger bay and the two techs were already busy getting the Tac Assault ready, with other techs flooding in from shore leave into the hanger as the two mercenaries entered, "We have special ops directly from Taller. The Captain feels that the current Mercs can handle what's going on, so we've been dispatched to a mysterious shuttle that landed outside of town just a few hours ago," As Vacks and Jason stepped up into the LAAT/i Repulsorlift Gunship, the older soldier grinned at Jason, "We're going to go say hello." Tag Anyone ************************** IC: Rick Taller Johnny Boy, Bridge Hallomar shook his head, "Look Taller, whatever is going on out there in Port Haven is involving your mercenaries. And whatever is going on, I don't like it. We haven't had any trouble here in a long time outside of bar fights. Because I respect you and you're Mercs, you can handle them. But once they're handled with, they're mine to deal with. And you better hope no other trouble happens here with the Mercs attached to it." Captain Rick Taller took the warning for what it was and nodded, "Yes, Hallomar." "And after you find out who they work for, I'm hiring you out to go teach them a lesson. We don't need any trouble that attracts Imperial attention. Got it?" A smile formed at the corner of Taller's mouth at the mention of a contract...and payback for whoever was attacking the Mercs... No Tag -----signature----- Believer in Jesus Christ "All right, I'll give it a try." - Luke Skywalker, ESB "No. Try not. Do... or do not. There is no try." - Yoda, ESB "Now, be brave, and don't look back. Don't look back." - Shmi Skywalker, TPM
	Post Reply \| Quote Reply \| Active Topic Notification \| Private Message \| Post History
Bravo Registered: Sep '01	Date Posted: 8/1 10:21am Subject: STAR WARS: INTERVENTION (A story-telling style OT starfighter game) - Date Edited: 8/1 10:24am (1 edits total) Edited By: Bravo
	OOG: Doing a GM thing. Here's some spice to the Winterkill storyline Grey. Just so everyone knows, if you want to throw in a storyline arch for you're character that affects the whole game (like Grey is doing), just ask Grey or me first. Grey broke the ice for the character storyline arch's to begin and I hope some of you follow his lead and start throwing PM's our way. Here's some links to some info found in the below post: Whendyll System Duelist vibrorapier CR90 Corellian Corvette Republic light assault cruiser IC: Captain 'One Eye' Lock Red Destroyer, CR90 Corellian Corvette, Out-skirts of the Whendyll System Captain 'One Eye' Lock really hated his last name Lock. It was so...normal. Although he was human and Corellian at that, the Pirate Captain still felt that his last name was boring. And although it cost him an eye at Rick Taller's hands three years ago, One Eye, as he was known around his peers and his enemies alike, was almost grateful to Rick Taller for taking his eye. His name was now so much more...scary. He had light-colored skin, a thick black beard and mustache, and long black hair with gold earrings in his ears and a gold chain around his neck and a black patch over his right eye, his left eye being green in color. He wore black pilot boots in which wine-red pants were tucked into them; a black blaster belt hung low around his waist with a blaster holster and DL-44 Blaster Pistol on his right hip; a Duelist vibrorapier was attached to his other side of his hip opposite of the blaster pistol, supported by its own black belt that rode slightly higher then the blaster belt. He wore a white sleeveless t-shirt under his wine-red tunic shirt with puffy wrist ends. His trench coat was a deeper blood red in color and the collar was smoothed out around his neck. As he stood on the bridge of his flag-ship the Red Destroyer, the Pirate Captain went through his orders in his head from his employers. They were quite simple and he liked simple: make sure Winterkill doesn't escape off-planet and protect his employers if they had to escape. From what One Eye could gather, his 'employer' was trying to kill this Winterkill and if they had failed planet side at Port Haven, it was his job to make sure Winterkill was dead. But in the case that his employers had to run from Winterkill, well, his orders were to stop any pursuit. And any pursuit would come in the form of the Mercs and the Mercs meant Rick Taller. And once he had Rick Taller in his sights, the two foes would find out once and for all who really had the better starfighter pilots and capital ships on an even playing field. Three years ago Taller and his Mercs were called on to protect a civilian luxury liner from One Eye and his pirates. The engagement had cost One Eye most of his fleet, pilots, and his eye in a one-on-one duel with the mercenary captain. One Eye was furious after the fight, vowing to have his revenge after what he called a 'surprise and unfair attack' by Rick Taller and his mercenaries. As his three CR90 Corellian Corvettes, each loaded with four starfighters, and his two Republic light assault cruisers moved ever closer towards Port Haven, Captain One Eye could taste the sweetness of revenge in his mouth already... No Tag -----signature----- Believer in Jesus Christ "All right, I'll give it a try." - Luke Skywalker, ESB "No. Try not. Do... or do not. There is no try." - Yoda, ESB "Now, be brave, and don't look back. Don't look back." - Shmi Skywalker, TPM
	Post Reply \| Quote Reply \| Active Topic Notification \| Private Message \| Post History
greyjedi125 Registered: Apr '02	Date Posted: 8/4 9:59pm Subject: STAR WARS: INTERVENTION (A story-telling style OT starfighter game)
	Sorry for the wait folks. Was waiting on a few others to post, but perhaps we've all waited long enough. I'll move things along then. Here goes. ******************************* Chris Streets, Jason Lasso, Terrel Vacks, Havah Jeth, Mira T'saaren, Hal Crawford, Dernan Vask & Winterkill Free Trader's Alley, Port Haven, En route to the Octagon From where he was Streets had the perfect vantage point. The chiss saw it all unfold his very eyes as he looked down on Free Trader's Alley from the observation deck high on Hocker's Hill. The shooter reacted in surprise as the thin stream of expelled string shot from Havah Jeth's Stohkli flew past his ear and sailed on to take down one of his fellow conspirators several meters beyond. THAT was all the distraction Witerkill needed to put a hot blaster bolt between his opponent's eyes. Winterkill understood that Jeth was being non-lethal, but he simply wasn't in the mood to play nice. In the same motion, the nagai swung his arm and shot several times at the target opposite from the one Jeth had taken down, with the same result, except that his target would not begetting down. More screaming ensued in the alley as patron panicked, intensifying the need for escape. Winterkill took notice of the ones bottle necked at the mouth at Brigand's Bend and rushed forward and into the crowd. As far as he was concerned, they were sitting ducks. Which was something Chris Streets was thinking at the same moment. After picking up the sniper's rifle, Streets positioned the weapon on the gyro-stabilizing tripod and targeted the two incompetent targets caught at the entrance to Brigand's Bend. His shots were merely incapacitating, so he brought them down fairly easily, except that his two shots really turned things chaotic down at the alley. Seeing from the scope how a few of the braver and more level headed vendors began pointing in his general direction, Streets decided it was time to depart. Bolting quickly for the emergency exit, Streets used his com to quickly relay what had happened up to that point to Terrel Vacks. The chiss spoke quite rapidly and clearly in what seemed to be a single breath. Once he reached the bottom of the stairs, he paused and began to put away his weapon in his duffel bag. That's when he heard voices outside. "Got company. I'll have to call you back, Commander." Streets disengaged the call and took a deep breath. The voices outside had that 'military' sound to them. Probably Port Haven militia or something. Once again, Streets mind was going into overdrive, everything he thought of seemed too complicated, when a simple idea struck him. It was so simple, it might just work. Before anyone entered from the outside of the emergency exit, Streets bolted through the door affecting the manner of a panicked drunkard. "Heeesh Upshstaairrs! shooot-or, upshstaaaairrs!!" he said in a quavering half intelligeble yell, even as he ran in a zigged-zagged from the observation tower. Streets didn't look back nor heeded the demands for him to halt. He was simply to 'drunk and frightened' to listen to anything else but instinct. Down below, Winterkill saw the two cloaked figures at the entrance to Brigand's Bend go down after being shot. They didn't appear dead, but he figured they would get trampled just the same. A sudden idea came to the nagai, which he enacted immediately. Using one of the falling enemies as a stepping stool, Winterkill trampolined off the man and lept high enough to run on the shoulders of the fleeing masses. The nagai exploited this new avenue of movement and swiftly made it through and out of Bandit's Bend. Now free of the throng, he did not slow, but kept running until he made it to the Octagon Arena. Wintrkill slowed and caught his breath as he entere the building proper. He moved gracefully through one of the many archways that lead inside and navigated himself towards the 'Match-coordinators.' He could help but noticed how crowed the Octagon Arena seemed. "I'm claiming a superior match. Red and Black. Me against one of the Coruscant Aces." Winterkill announced to the first match coordinator he saw. A devaronian from the looks of him. "Ah, yes. You're the nagai we was told to expect. Winterkill, isn't it? Yea, it's all set up, yes, yes? You' go against Killshot. Heh, good luck. You gonna need it." Winterkill's dark eyes turned to slits as he shot the devaronian a very suspicious look, but the devaronian played his part well, as he seemed not to take notice. A sudden increase of sound caught the nagai's attention. It was the crowd. They were saying something. chanting. KILLSHOT! KILLSHOT! KILLSHOT! KILLSHOT!! "Red and Black." the devaronian said with a wickedly wide grin, as he gestured towards the middle of the 'Octagon', were an octagon shapped fighting pit about 4 meters deep, 8 meters wide, with an enclosing cage about twice as high, waited for him. There were two entrances to the fighting pit, one opposite the other. Winterkill ignored the growing din as he neared the entrance closest to him, which was open and empty. Across from that location was the other entrance. A spotlight was there, illuminating the figure that stood at its center, wearing a royal blood red fighter jacket. It was Killshot. The rugged looking mercenary fighter pilot stood there, soaking up the adoring crowds accolades, basking in the moment. He raised his hands in 'pre-mature' triumph and turned slowly to regard Winterkill. A wide evil grin appeared in the man's face, and it was then that Winterkill noticed two things amongst meany others. One was that Killshot was a very big man and carried a pair of wookie Ryyk blades at his sides. The other, was that Killshot seemed to be perfectly sober and not drunk at all. Tag: All mercs involved. OOC: Won't keep you guys waiting again. I'll probably update this again on friday or sooner. Forgive typos and grammatical errors. -----signature----- "Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter."_Yoda "I find your lack of Faith disturbing."_ Darth Vader "There is always Hope."_Luke Skywalker "Make me one with everything." (Hungry Monk)_Ameteth
	Post Reply \| Quote Reply \| Active Topic Notification \| Private Message \| Post History
Bravo Registered: Sep '01	Date Posted: 8/6 4:05pm Subject: STAR WARS: INTERVENTION (A story-telling style OT starfighter game)
	OOG: Lets keep those posts up everyone! I can only imagine everyone is kind of lost right now at what is going on---this post will hopefully start to bring the picture into focus. And here's some link information for some characters below: FIII Footman droid To clear up the colored posts I do, I'm going to assign major NPC characters a personal color. This will help clear up my somewhat over colorized posts. All other characters will have whatever color any player gives them for that post. Rick Taller (Indigo) Terrel Vacks(Purple) Chris Streets (Orange-red) Dak (Royal blue) Ler (Sky blue) Flight Lieutenant Patty Sand (Sandy brown) Tac One (Burlywood) IC: Jason Lasso Tac Assault, Port Haven Jason Lasso hung on to the above hand strap for dear life as the LAAT/i Repulsorlift Gunship named Tac Assault speed through and danced around the mid-air explosions on its way towards the dirt clearing just outside of Port Haven. Black puffs of smoke exploded all around the Old Republic-era gunship, giving Jason first-hand experience of what it must had felt like to be a Clone Trooper in one of these craft during a battle in the Clone Wars. The Tac Assault was named after the four Tac-Spec Footman droids that crewed the gunship. All four droids had been upgraded with shuttle and starfighter piloting programs as well as maintenance and repair programs; this enabled the droids to fix some problems in-flight and assist the hanger crews back on the Johnny Boy when things got busy. "Man, they're pretty mad," Jason observed from the starboard side, yelling over the roar of battle, as he looked over to Terrel Vacks. The old veteran nodded from the other open side door, "That looks about right. That Lambda is trying to take off and in a hurry. They're leaving their ground support behind. Whoever it is, they don't like us and they must have failed they're mission to be leaving in such a hurry," The Storm Commando armored soldier leaned forward towards the pilot seats and shouted, "Fire some rockets into that Lambda-class Shuttle. Don't let it escape." The co-pilot droid, Tac Two nodded, "Yes, sir," He then flipped a few switches and rockets shot forth from the gunship, impacting the white shuttle, tearing holes through the then-shieldless craft and forcing the shuttle to veer off to the side of its ground soldiers and into the jungle, smoke and flame following in its wake. With the would-be escapees shuttle all but disabled and in a not so friendly jungle, Vacks nodded approvingly. "Pilot, give us covering fire and drop us off," Vacks ordered. Tac One nodded, "Right away, sir!" As the two Composite-Beam Turret gunners provided covering fire on the final approach, destroying E-Web emplacements and scattering the soldiers from their positions, as well as knocking out the two anti-aircraft laser turrets that were giving the gunship crew such a hard time, Vacks moved across the troop bay to where Jason stood on the starboard side of the gunship as it slowed down and came lower to the ground (although remained in the air); the starboard Composite-Beam Turret gunner laid down a thick covering fire of green lasers of death as Vacks looked at Lasso. "You ready?" Terrel asked as he put his Storm Commando helmet on. Jason grinned as he put his black sunglasses on over his eyes, "Ready to rock 'n roll!" Both Mercs jumped clear of the gunship, landing on the cleared dirt area as the gunship retreated behind them, the starboard Composite-Beam Turret still providing covering fire as the gunship banked away. Almost as soon as they hit the ground, the two Mercs had they're respected weapons out and unloading blaster bolts into the scattered and weakened enemy force. What had been a fairly defensible position with two E-Web turrets and two anti-aircraft laser cannons along with a half-circle of defense wall directly in front of the shuttle's landing area on which either E-Web turret had anchored each end of the half-circle had been reduced to debris, parts of the chest-high defense wall being destroyed or mangled, and a unhealthy amount of dead and wounded soldiers on the ground. The remaining enemy force was nine soldiers, but the nine soldiers were still more then the two Mercs. As Vacks went right with his two WESTAR-34 blaster pistols firing away, Jason went left with his E-11 blaster rifle with strap across his chest. Lasso rolled away from one blaster bolt that impacted the ground where he would had been moments before and as he came up, he leveled a series of blaster bolts into the attacking mercenary soldier, taking him down in a hail of blaster bolts mere meters from where he stood now. Jason found himself unable to bring any relief to his exposed position as two other mercenaries rushed in from either side at an angle to his front just a little behind their fallen comrade. With no hope of survival of where he stood now, the Merc rushed forward to crate a spear-like action into the two mercenaries' running assault. Taking the mercenary to his left, Jason squeezed off a few close-range shots as the two warriors neared each other, each exchanging poorly aimed shots at the blood-pumping range of their combat. Jason's opponent was the first one to make a move, bringing the butt of his blaster rifle up in an attempt to knock Jason out. Seeing this, Jason slowed and ducked under the assaulting rifle butt, coming up and under the mercenary but instead of tackling the soldier, Jason brought the bottom of his blaster rifle up and into the chin of the mercenary, then applying pressure with his left hand, pressed downward on the barrel and bringing the butt end of collapsed rifle butt into the left side of the soldier's face, then as the enemy soldier recoiled from the left face trauma, Lasso spun around to the rear of him, two blaster bolts from the other mercenary soldier flying just past him. As he reached the rear of the mercenary, Lasso held the soldier around the neck with his left arm as he raised his right arm and resulting E-11 blaster rifle over the soldier's right shoulder. With effectively a human shield, Jason popped three red blaster bolts into the other soldier who was reluctant to fire on his own comrade. As that soldier dropped to the ground, Jason wrestled with his human shield as he turned to the left, keeping the poor mercenary in front of him as he heard a battle cry from that side. A Rodian came at them at full speed, intent on breaking up Jason's human shield and freeing one of his mercenary friends. Seeing this move, Jason had little time to do nothing else but let go and roll out of the way, barely making it out in time before the Rodian collided with the human. It was far too late by the time the human and Rodian found out their fatal mistake and as Jason came up from his roll, he sprayed a series of blaster bolts into the two mercenaries. With all of the blood pumping through him and the various sounds of battle raging all around, Jason barely heard the heavy foot-steps of someone behind him. Turning half way around just in time to avoid a bayonet in the back, the Merc finished turning around, swinging his blaster rifle in his right hand towards the other soldier's head. This mercenary knew what he was doing and ducked, putting his shoulder into Jason and sending him to the ground. Hitting his head on the ground, Jason was dazed for a moment, and by the time his eyes leveled back on his attacker, a blaster rifle was coming up into his face. Quick to act, Jason swung out his legs, taking the enemy's legs out from under him. As the soldier fell to the ground, a blaster bolt being discharged into the air before his body hit the ground, Jason jumped up to his feet, bringing his right leg around to knock the once again raising enemy blaster rifle out of his face. But before he could fire a blaster bolt into the man, a black armored figure jumped down on one knee and delivered a punch to the man's face that was hard enough to knock him out. Jason took his finger off the trigger as Terrel Vacks came up from his kneeling position and approached him. "We have to keep one alive for questions and answers," Vacks said, holstering his Samuari-style sword back onto his back. Lasso nodded, "Yes, sir," And lowered his weapon, taking note of the battlefield with all the mercenary soldiers down. *********************************** Ten minutes later... Jason shook his head as he peered into the burning passenger area of the Lambda-class Shuttle, "I don't see how one of them could have escaped. But the evidence is there: look, one of the seats is empty among all the dead bodies in seats." Vacks had his helmet off by now and was nodding as he was in a conversation with Rick Taller on his ear-comlink; the Tac Assault was landing just in the distance on the opposite side of Lambda-class shuttle's burning wreckage, deploying a small part of the Johnny Boy's security droids to assist in clean-up and taking the two captives, "...That's correct, sir. We have one missing. According to our mercenary captives, he or she is the main boss of this mess...yes sir, I will. Vacks out." "So, what's the orders?" Jason asked, chewing on some beef jerky he got from one of his trench coat pockets and offered some to Vacks who shook his head. "The droids take our two captives to Hallomar and we report back to the Johnny Boy and wait for Winterkill to finish this match. Whoever escaped is going to need to get off planet some how and we wait and follow...quietly. We want to see if this boss leads us to someone else who might want one of us dead." "And if we do run into some more trouble, we get to blast more things, right?" Terrel smiled, remembering his youthful days of soldiering in Jason's comment, "Something like that." Tag Anyone -----signature----- Believer in Jesus Christ "All right, I'll give it a try." - Luke Skywalker, ESB "No. Try not. Do... or do not. There is no try." - Yoda, ESB "Now, be brave, and don't look back. Don't look back." - Shmi Skywalker, TPM
	Post Reply \| Quote Reply \| Active Topic Notification \| Private Message \| Post History
oreotragus Registered: Jul '09	Date Posted: 8/9 9:46pm Subject: STAR WARS: INTERVENTION (A story-telling style OT starfighter game)
	Mira T’saaren en route to the Octagon It seemed that as soon as the action had begun in the marketplace, it died down just a quick. Mira T’saaren had barely drawn her blaster pistol and sought cover in a tight doorway before her Merc companions had taken care of their attackers. A tight half-smile grew on her face as she holstered her blaster and stepped out from the doorway she was providing cover from. Her new companions certainly knew how to handle themselves. The dust was beginning to settle, and most everyone had cleared out the general area by now. A few men scattered the ground, along with vendor trays and abandoned repulsorlift tables. She watched as Winterkill had gone into the quickly retreating crowd. She guessed he was heading to his match, so she skirted the outside of the alley and followed the way he had gone out. It wasn’t hard to find her way out – she just followed the maddened throngs of humans and aliens abandoning the alley. Winterkill was out of sight by now, and the crowd had begun to dissipate as it filtered out between streets and into various buildings, some looking less than reputable. She looked around, unsure of what direction to go, when a noise of chanting voices reached her ears, just faintly. “KILLSHOT! KILLSHOT!” she barely made out from the noise. It could have been a sport match of some kind, but she followed the sound anyway down a street ahead and to the right. She walked somewhat cautiously now, with her hand resting on the butt of her pistol. She peered down side streets and alleyways suspiciously, but the growing sound of a crowd chanting drew her closer. Two scruffy men, middle-aged and in dirty, dark blue mechanic’s uniforms, walked with a Duro in a matching uniform. They strode up from behind her left and were talking amongst themselves as they passed her. “Ruo, I told you to put 50 credits on Killshot! Why’d you put it on that Nagai?” “I just got a hunch, man. And I heard he's good.” The other human shrugged. Mira quickened her pace to follow the group of three mechanics who, she gathered, were heading straight to her destination – the Octagon. She glanced behind her to see if the other Mercs were on their way as well, and checked her blaster’s power level. Tag: Mercs involved with the Octagon storyline -----signature----- There isn't a mome rath born who can outgrabe me! Watch out for the Hovering Bat-Dog and the Long-haired Wolfcat
	Post Reply \| Quote Reply \| Active Topic Notification \| Private Message \| Post History
Bravo Registered: Sep '01	Date Posted: 8/11 10:42pm Subject: STAR WARS: INTERVENTION (A story-telling style OT starfighter game) - Date Edited: 8/11 10:45pm (1 edits total) Edited By: Bravo
	IC: Nick Skysand En route to the Octagon, Port Haven He would show them! Nick Skysand thought proudly---and maybe a little block headed---as he rushed down the roads of Port Haven to the Octagon. He had come out of his personal quarters during all the noise before Jason Lasso and Terrel Vacks left on a mission. Naturally, he was ordered to stay on ship. Also naturally, he disobeyed those orders. It wasn't like the Mercs were going to leave him at Port Haven---he was their man with the news! Already upset that he had arrived after the battle was over, Nick rushed through the wondering and stunned crowd as slowly, but surely, those that had fled were coming back to look at the damage. In a bind to have his holo recorder ready in time, Nick wasn't looking when he ran sideways into Mira T’saaren. After such an impact, Nick was expecting Mira to yell at him, but instead it was a strong hand pulling him to his feet. "Hey, who do you think you are!" Nick complained as he was ruffled up to his feet and a blaster pistol's nozzle was pushed up against his cheek, "Rick is going to kill me for leaving the ship now!" A Gungan and Rodian stood before Mira, the Gungan holding Nick at bay with the blaster pistol while his partner the Rodian held a blaster rifle across his chest and stood ready at his side. "You, MERC!" The Gungan boomed at Mira, "You will hand Winterkill over to us now, or the boy gets it!" With his shuttle destroyed, the Gungan knew that him and his partner had little to lose. Hallomar would soon be after them and the least his partner and him could do was capture or kill Winterkill and try to make it off planet with their bounty. These guys were the back-up for the failed attempt to kill Winterkill. At least they showed up, better late then never... Tag Mira, Mitth EDIT: Grammar -----signature----- Believer in Jesus Christ "All right, I'll give it a try." - Luke Skywalker, ESB "No. Try not. Do... or do not. There is no try." - Yoda, ESB "Now, be brave, and don't look back. Don't look back." - Shmi Skywalker, TPM
	Post Reply \| Quote Reply \| Active Topic Notification \| Private Message \| Post History
Mitth_Fisto Registered: Sep '05	Date Posted: 8/12 6:31pm Subject: STAR WARS: INTERVENTION (A story-telling style OT starfighter game)
	IC: Havah Jeth en route to the Octagon To say that he surprised at the turn of events would be akin to saying a monk is shocked when another monk makes a joke...during the readings of course. For some of the most humor-beset have often had a background best thought of lacking. Death was dealt by so by he who's battle cry was 'No Mercy!' as if even a babe could yet forget. No mercy for the bragard with his home bare, no mercy for the seller that yet has no wares, no mercy for the tailor that is yet out of string, and by the law no mercy for mercinary lest they forget to fall. Crouching forward he advanced using his stick as merely that to keep the pushers at bay until he came upon his task, like a spider to it's web insnared he did advance and whack once yet like a bite to insure that it would not rise with any might throughout the day lit night it had been blessed. So readily he made his way with the crowd kept at bay as if ordered by the sight of one dragging another and gag as if by webbing, the prone form still had the weapon strapped against it, giving many to believe the shrouded figure had taken one of the shooters. Though if any truth be told he had merely tooken one before it could start, and one in such a position liable was to know little but yet he could not neglect what little might be added yet to tip the scales. So, he hated being in command, it ment you had to think of such things, and when others couldn't be found...you had to drag a prize by yourself. With his artificial birth and down turned face he went with the crowds through the bottle neck stepping carelessly over a prone figure that had long been trampled by the crowd. He made his way silently to the Octagon, until a small chirp from his helmet alerted him to suspicious figures by one of his flight crew. Lifting his eyes slightly, as the chanting for one called KillShot filled the air, he tugged on his load, "You remind me of compost gnats, as soon as you squash a swarm fat one's come to lay eggs while your not looking." Shaking his head slightly he moved forward toward a Rodian and a Gungan from the side, he reached for his Westar but paused his hand and rethought to grab his Stohkli-spray stick when he recognized a second face...too young for such a situation. Then again hostages rarely had age range or preference beyond being large enough. Moving he hefted the body and shoved it into a passerby's arms, "Hold my snack for a minute...hold my snack or replace it." He gritted out, the stunned Chagrian merely gapped, grabbing more by reflex then will standing there dumbstruck unknowing of the hooded figures species but certain that he wouldn't loose his charge lest he had to take it's place. "Sorry kid." He whispered as he raised his stick, quickly setting the dials for distance, strength of stun, width and height of the webbing. Once all was set during his approach he fired for the Gungans waist knowing the wrapping would topple, trap, and stun both the would be hostage taker as well as hostage. Both were annoying things to be certain, he just hoped that Mira could deal with the Rodian, or at least hold him at bay until he got closer to take care of him. TAG: Mira, Gm -----signature----- Pride before the fall Humility before honor Friendship is unnecessary like philosophy like art It has ho survival value; rather it's one of those things that gives value to survival http://boards.theforce.net/fan_art/b10020/25366431/p1/?79
	Post Reply \| Quote Reply \| Active Topic Notification \| Private Message \| Post History
Bravo Registered: Sep '01	Date Posted: 8/16 8:03pm Subject: STAR WARS: INTERVENTION (A story-telling style OT starfighter game)
	OOG: Grey is having DRL jump down his back and another of our number is having internet problems at the moment. But fear not, we're still going up the mountain! Grey will be getting his post up ASAP he told me. -----signature----- Believer in Jesus Christ "All right, I'll give it a try." - Luke Skywalker, ESB "No. Try not. Do... or do not. There is no try." - Yoda, ESB "Now, be brave, and don't look back. Don't look back." - Shmi Skywalker, TPM
	Post Reply \| Quote Reply \| Active Topic Notification \| Private Message \| Post History
greyjedi125 Registered: Apr '02	Date Posted: 8/16 10:28pm Subject: STAR WARS: INTERVENTION (A story-telling style OT starfighter game) - Date Edited: 8/16 10:41pm (1 edits total) Edited By: greyjedi125
	Havah Jeth, Mira T'saaren, Nick Skysand & Winterkill Port Haven, the Octagon Arena So, this is how it all went down, how it was from the inside. It almost felt like a controlled mob scene.The betting booths surged with all kinds of last minute patrons trying to cash in on the results of the duel while simultaneously, many more were drawn to the spectators circle because of the fervent chanting. The lights around the bleachers dimmed, and all the while, Winterkill seemed oblivious to everything but his target. The lights within the fighting pit brightened up, and the entry-gates were lifted. An announcer came on and tried to speak over the noise the crowd was creating. Winterkill's dark eyes narrowed and never ceased to target Killshot as they both entered the fighting pit. Both of them moved with deliberate movements, as they eyed each other. Winterkill reached for his Tehk'la blades in one swift and graceful motion, while Killshot drew a wookie Ryyk blade with his main hand, followed by a quick and sudden throwing motion of his off-hand. The nagai pivoted, easily dodging what was thrown, which seemed to be some kind of bola meant to ensnare him. As Winterkill turned, the sudden rise in pitch of the crowd's excitement came as a warning. Something 'else' was happening. That's when his peripheral vision caught Killshot trying to end things quickly as he came in with a vicious slash! Winterkill used the momentum of his already moving body to throw himself into an evasive cartwheel... and just in the nick of time. The nagai felt the burning sting as Killshot's maiming attack grazed the back of his arm, slicing through the fabric of his gear and leaving a thin red line in its wake. Killshot's second swipe was easily deflected by Winterkill's trailing blade as the nagai made some space between them. Winterkill landed smoothly and performed a vicious low slash as he did so, but Killshot was savvy enough not to pursue the nagai, at least not yet. His initial attack had not been a complete failure, as he drew first blood, much to the delight of the roaring crowd. "I'm going to cut you into little pieces...." Killshot promised with a wicked grin. Unimpressed, Winterkill simply spat on the floor before him to show his contempt for the human's trickery and twirled his blades in response. The crowed cheered them on, delighting in the face-off thus far. Images of the match were being shown on every single jumbo-sized monitor screen inside the Octagon as well as a direct feed transmitted directly to The Aces Club, where fellow pilots and blood sport enthusiasts could follow the match as it happened, blow for blow. Ironically, not all the Mercs could follow Winterkill's match at the moment. Havah Jeth, Nick Skysand and Mira T'saaren were busy tending to their own issues of the 'mercenary' kind. Chris Streets managed to dodge scrutiny by local security, and also managed to position himself on a high enough perch to lend support to Havah Jeth, Nick and Mira, should they need it, though he was not one to press his luck. At the moment, the red-eyed chiss wished he'd had the forsight to brandish a Stohkli-spray stick, just as Havah Jeth had done. Such a weapon would make things alot easier on them, but there was no going back now. He had to make the best of his situation with what equipment he possessed at the time, for it did seem that trouble had followed the Mercs to Port Haven all the way from Watavah. But then again, trouble is what made the Mercs shine brightest. Tag: Oreotragus, Mitth_Fisto, Bravo, anyone else that wants to be involved. Co-GM's Note: I'll try to update again before Friday, since I'll be very busy next week. -----signature----- "Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter."_Yoda "I find your lack of Faith disturbing."_ Darth Vader "There is always Hope."_Luke Skywalker "Make me one with everything." (Hungry Monk)_Ameteth
	Post Reply \| Quote Reply \| Active Topic Notification \| Private Message \| Post History
oreotragus Registered: Jul '09	Date Posted: 8/17 8:49pm Subject: STAR WARS: INTERVENTION (A story-telling style OT starfighter game) - Date Edited: 8/17 8:49pm (1 edits total) Edited By: oreotragus
	Mira T’saaren Port Haven alley The Rodian stood in front of her, his blaster rifle held across his chest. He was just slightly taller than her, but the Gungan that was holding the young Merc Nick was over a head higher than she was, Mira noted, as she sized up her opponents. They stood close, an arm’s reach away. A number of options and scenarios flashed through her mind like a multiple-choice question with only one correct answer. Screw up, and she could get Nick or herself shot. Or both. She held her hands up, away from the blaster at her side. The Rodian seemed to ease his stance just slightly. “Whoa there, now just hold on a second.” She said, immediately taking on a sweet look. “Now you boys must be mistaken… I don’t know any Winterkill and I don’t know who this boy is. You’ve got me mistaken for someone else.” Her voice practically dripped with innocence as she feigned oblivious surprise. Obviouly not expecting that response, the Gungan was visibly thrown off for a second, and the Rodian’s eye ridges contorted slightly. Good, she thought, Not exactly geniuses here. Nick’s face was simply blank with confusion. The Gungan paused snarling, and he exchanged a look with his companion. That was the slight moment of hesitation she was waiting for. Quicker than a Corellian swoop, she seized the second that they were exchanging confused glances. She hooked her left leg behind the outside leg of the Rodian and pulled hard enough to knock him completely off balance. “MOVE, Nick!” she yelled. As she pulled, she drew her blaster pistol and snapped a shot off in the direction of the Gungan’s legs, just as he released the boy and turned his blaster on her. His gurgled cry of pain punctuated the air as he dropped to the street, clutching his thigh, As he fell, Mira tossed her blaster pistol to Nick and she reached down to pluck the blaster rifle from the stunned Rodian’s hands. Luckily, he apparently hit his head hard enough when he fell to knock him out, which only made things easier for her. With two blasters turned on him, the felled Gungan leaned on one elbow and raised the other hand in the air in surrender. A smoking hole was burned into his right thigh, with the charred flesh visible through his singed pants leg. “Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!” he begged pathetically. Incompetent, she thought. The adrenaline of the moment – all of which had taken less than ten seconds – made her heart race and beads of sweat to form on her forehead. She kept the heavy blaster rifle trained on him as Nick, who looked rather nervous, did the same with her pistol. The Rodian, she checked again, was definitely out cold. “What do you want with Winterkill?” she demanded. A trio of passersby turned into the street, and as surprise registered on their faces at the two humans pointing weapons at a downed Gungan and the prone Rodian, they spun on their heels and hurried away. She had better make this quick before local security came poking around. They were probably nearby anyway, checking out the alley where the first shots had taken place. The Gungan spat at her feet. “You worthless Merc!” he snarled in heavily accented Basic. “You just wait till our boss hears about you! Then you will be hunted as well!” he let out a halting, gargling laugh, cut short by a wince as he clutched at his badly burned leg. Her anger boiled up slightly and she restrained the urge to kick him in the gut. “Listen, we better get to the Octagon and watch Winterkill's back,” she said to Nick. “There may be more of these guys around. We’ll leave these two here.” She took a small, strong gray cord out of one of her utility belt pockets and pointed the rifle at the Gungan again. “Get over next to your companion there,” she said, her voice taking on a deeper, hard-edged tone when she spoke to the Gungan. She had to make up for her lack of apparent strength and size with intimidation. The Gungan complied, inching his way over. “Sit up, and don’t move a muscle, unless you want your ‘boss’ to have to clean you off the street.” Her words hit home, and the tall alien sat up as she wrested the Rodian upright and propped him against the Gungan. She handed the rifle to Nick, and as he kept both weapons trained – with some difficulty – on their two attackers, she deftly tied their hands together behind their backs with her utility cord, and knotted it tight. The Gungan maintained his snarl, but looked utterly defeated – most likely at the fact that a small, seemingly harmless female human managed to take both he and his partner out with little apparent difficulty. The embarassment was too much alone, but he would probably answer for his failure with his own life. “Come on, Nick, let’s go.” Mira exchanged weapons with the teen and headed towards the sound of the crowd, near now. Tag: all Mercs OOC: Sorry for the late post guys, lightning took out my home PC. -----signature----- There isn't a mome rath born who can outgrabe me! Watch out for the Hovering Bat-Dog and the Long-haired Wolfcat
	Post Reply \| Quote Reply \| Active Topic Notification \| Private Message \| Post History
Kartanym Registered: May '02	Date Posted: 8/18 1:29am Subject: STAR WARS: INTERVENTION (A story-telling style OT starfighter game)
	OOC: Excuse me, I'd like to enquire about the open Hangar Tech position. If you so desire, I can provide character references. -----signature----- United Survival: A Choose Your Own Adventure RP http://boards.theforce.net/non_star_wars_role_playing/b10755/30353484/p1
	Post Reply \| Quote Reply \| Active Topic Notification \| Private Message \| Post History

« 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 » - Previous | Next | Reload