Star Wars 5 BBY - The Imperial Fist

IC: Liesl Bridehead
Boss Scaggs? Hangar, Issagra Station

Liesl ran back into Scaggs? hangar and found that the droid had made a good start in getting rid of the exterior blaster burns from the Murrian Transport. As she got closer, she could heard the droid beeping unhappily. If it?d been an organic being, the droid probably would have been grumbling.

?Keep up the good work,? Liesl said in passing as she rushed back up the ramp of the ship, not taking any heed of the series of hostile electronic noises sent in her direction. ?Culain!? Liesl called out once she was back on board the ship, ?I?m back!? She assumed that he hadn?t left since the ship had been wide open. Without waiting for a reply she went to the engine room and began the work of pulling out the old grav housing, the new one still in its shiny shrink wrapping.

It was truly amazing what a hydrospanner cold do. Plenty of beings she knew swore that it was the only tool you really needed to fix a ship. Liesl would begrudgingly admit that in a pinch you could get by with just a hydrospanner because it was indeed versatile. However, many of its tasks could be performed better with other tools. However, when it came to unscrewing something bolted down tight in a small space, Liesl would take that hydrospanner every single time.

As far as she could tell, this was looking like it was going to be a straight forward substitution. Take out the old grav housing, install the new one, check the connections, and then run a start up sequence to make sure that everything was all right. As Liesl tooled around inside the engine room, she couldn?t understand why Culain would have ever even considered junking this ship. Everything was in great condition, especially compared to some of the crafts that she?d worked on lately. Had he really been in that much of a hurry?

Liesl pushed out her right cheek with her tongue as she worked. That was the only reasonable explanation she could come up with. And if Culain was in a hurry, what would be so important that he?d just throw a ship away? For a moment Liesl wondered if taking this job had been a smart idea. After all, without prompting he?d doubled her fees. People who were just in a rush didn?t usually do that. People who were running from something?that made a little more sense.

?Well no sense getting distracted by that now,? Liesl mumbled to herself, ?You took the job so you?re in it now, whatever it is. The sooner you fix this thing, the easier it?ll be for you to have never seen this ship.?

Why had she been so stupid? She?d been entranced by the idea of making a nice pile of credits under the table, eliminating Scaggs as the middleman. He did take a hefty cut, but she wasn?t so broke that she really needed the creds. She?d gotten greedy, that was all there was to it. She shouldn?t let money go to her head like that. The stuff was useful, but it wasn?t everything. Still, this job would give her a good cushion?

Liesl shook her head. ?Focus. Focus,? she repeated to herself.

To that end, she started to sing to herself one of her favorite mechanical ditties.

?They call me Baby Driver
And once upon a pair of wheels
Hit the road and I?m gone
What?s my number
I wonder how your engine feels.
Mmmmm ba ba ba ba
Scoot down the road
What?s my number
I wonder how your engine feels??

Tag: Morkai, Lurker, if you want to wander my way for any reason at all

 

Lana Vangress - Striker
Aboard the Blue Mynok

Striker watched as a smile broke out on the young face of Romeyn Oakes as he nodded and dashed back into his ship.

Striker moved, to program a course herself. And then she quickly moved down the ship, unlocking the doors. She also scooped up Daks and tossed the feline in her room. She could introduce the two together later. Right now, she really didnt want a fight at the moment.

She made it back to the front of the ship, just as Romeyn was walking back into the Blue Mynock, Romeyn gave a polite nod to the 'Captain' and stowed his stuff in the bunk. As he headed in the back, she turned off the gun trackers. She gave a smile at Grim and a thumbs up at Grim. "Thats a step in the right direction. He's willing to PAY..just to ride along. I like him already."

With a short laugh, she jumped back into the pilot's chair, as she checked her calculations. They needed to get out of the area. As she began to pilot the ship clear, so that they could jump, she saw the other ship wink out of existence. She could feel for the man. It was hard to leave a ship that you called yours.

Just then, Romeyn made his way up to the cockpit and said over the shoulder of the Captain, "I appreciate you taking me aboard. Here's some money for your trouble, and if you need anything, you just holler, I'll be in my bunk." Striker nodded, putting the creds away.

Romeyn turned to leave and then stopped, frowning slightly. "I never did catch your name?"

Stiker gave a slight grin. "Just a sec." The ship moved, and as soon as they were clear, the ship jumped into hyperspace. Striker then stood up, and walked over towards the man. Striker then reached up, and pulled off the helmet, letting her long hair cascade over her shoulders. Green eyes looked at Romeyn.

"The name is Striker. And welcome aboard the Blue Mynok." She said with a wry grin. "And this ship is a working ship. So, if you got any skills, maybe cooking or something, then you work as well. She pointed over her shoulder. Grim, he's pulling navi and gunner duties at the moment. But, you did pay..so thats worth something."

She chuckled. "You caught us at a good time. We're on a run. Salvage. We're headed for Geonosis. I've plotted a wide route to get us there, in case there are other takers, dont want us all meeting up at the same time. Besides, give us a chance to know a bit more, before we get to work." Striker headed back for her seat. She called over her shoulder.

"By the way. Got one more crew member to meet later. Hope you two can get along, or its going to be a very long trip." she said with a slight chuckle to her voice.

"Can you make a good cup of cafa, farm boy?" she asked him.


Tag: Liam, GreyJedi

OOG: Since Sarge if off to CV, figured to stretch the flight out. Also give our characters chance to know each other a bit.

 

Kev-Mas Colcha
Imperial I-class Star Destroyer Redacted
Hyperspace

King of Terrors

Fear. It was such a powerful emotion, and a useful tool. Fear was a tool of the Emperor, a tool of the Empire, and just as much a tool of Kev-Mas?. And the young blue blood Lieutenant Holt was currently the center-point of that fear. She did her best to hide it, a testament to her strong Imperial upbringing, but Kev-Mas could sense it, he relished in it. Fear was good, it kept peons in line.

Idissan however did not react out of fear, but stubbornness and loyalty. He did however finally take his place by giving Kev-Mas a proper salute and acknowledgement. Good, the Shadow Guard thought to himself, The fool does know his place in all things after all. Giving the ISB Agent only the slightest glances of acknowledgement he turned out to the front of the bridge planting the end of his Saber-Pike onto the command walkway.

?Well then, the chain-of-command is clear. Until your wayward captain happens to show something aside from dereliction of duty I am the highest ranking individual. Therefore command of this vessel falls to me.? Had Kev-Mas been an egotistical man he might have grinned knowing what those words were likely doing to Idissan.

?I will not have this ship charge into battle unprepared.? His black gloved hand gestured outward to the bridges communications station. ?You, send out a ship-wide alert. All personnel are to report to battle stations. Stormtroopers are to be prepared for boarding actions, and all TIE units are to be on station for immediate launch upon exiting hyperspace.?

The Communications Officer stared at the crimson visor of Kev-Mas? mask for a moment before swallowing and getting to work. Satisfied the Shadow Guard turned and faced Lieutenant Holt. ?Ms. Holt I am placing command of the bridge in your hands for now. There is a Jedi to be captured this day. It would be best for me to prepare my men.?

With no other words Kev-Mas lifted the end of his pike from the deck and marched past Holt and Idissan his black cape shifting in the circulating air of the bridge as he entered the turbolift for the Shadow Messenger?s berth.

---

[b][i]Hangar Bay[/b]
Outside the[/i] Shadow Messenger

At moments like this the sight of Kev-Mas might call forth images of classic paintings. Of ancient martial leaders addressing men before a battle, as he stood, pike straight in the air standing before a squad of black clad stormtroopers. His personal Shadow Stormtroopers, the 53rd Shadow Stormtrooper Squad.

?The Emperor has given us a great fortune today.? Kev-Mas? voice boomed louder than normal, a built in com-link in his suit projecting his voice for psychological reasons. ?Today we get to hunt a Jedi.? He let that sink in for a moment. His men made no physical reactions to the words, but he could feel a swelling mix of excitement, fear, and hatred growing in them. [i]Good[/i].

?We will be deploying onto a station known as CT-01, a deep space production facility that was supposed to be one of the Empires utmost secrets. Rebel forces of unknown origin have attacked and boarded the station, we have since lost communication. What we managed to learn before hand is that they are being led by a Jedi Master, a Miralukan named Miriana Shaul.?

?This means that we, as the most experienced group when it comes to confronting Jedi will be deployed to apprehend, or destroy our blind friend. As I intend to deploy the moment boarding actions are reasonable you are all hereby ordered to prepare your gear, board the [i]Shadow Messenger[/i] and prepare to deploy.?

He waited a moment before continuing. ?Is all of that understood?? In unison all six troopers put their right hands to their chest in salute with a resounding ?Sir!?. Satisfied Kev-Mas lifted his pike from the deck. ?Good. You are dismissed.?[/blockquote]

[b]Tag: Jello, TDO, Imperials, Kahn[/b]

 

OOC: I?m skipping past our little interaction Solo so I?m not stuck while you?re at CV, but making it so I have to come back so we can fill in any stuff we wanted to do. Also all the info and jobs and stuff in this post was rediscussed with Sarge.

Argen Devalie
Issagra Station

Corruption

The conversation with Jett Renning had been a pleasant one. They talked a good bit about Swoop racing, gave them a good middle ground, when Argen finally got around to purchasing the parts though he learned it?d take a week for them to be shipped in, at least quietly. This wasn?t so much a problem for Argen, all he needed to do was make sure he was back on Issagra in a week.

Sitting around for that period of time wasn?t an option. Sure Argen had Credits but they were always going down, they only went up if he worked so waiting for the parts was out of the question. Instead Argen consulted the local Net?s ?bounty board? for a job he could run for a week. Only two jobs really fell into his area of expertise, well, that he was willing to use for a week.

The first was a simple munitions run. Picking up a supply of weapons from a local Hutt and transporting them to Naboo to be used by some Imperial forces on site. A nice semi-legit job that paid decent. The second was a sort of shady job. As the ?bounty board? read; Transportation of electronic hardware and other computer equipment. Coordinates will be provided upon agreement of the job.

Argen had nothing against doing shady jobs, but he was on a time table, not knowing where and when he?d be going was a problem so the first job was it. Selecting the listing with his datapad he requested information on the pickup. Moments later he got an address for a place not far deeper inside the station.

-- -- --
Lair of Gurlog the Hutt

Gurlog was not a Hutt that Argen had done business with before, at least not directly, the Zabrak was sure he?d run stuff for one or two of his lackeys in the past. Gurlog wasn?t good looking at all, even by Hutt standards, but he wasn?t your typical Hutt either. He was small enough, and willing enough, to actually move about under his own power, that in a way made him more dangerous than the average Hutt Lord.

<So>, the Hutt began. Argen had no need for a Translator droid, Huttese was a language he?d learned long ago on Nar Shaddaa. <You think you?re suitable for taking our shipment of merchandise to Naboo eh?> Argen eyed the Hutt, and then his Trandoshan bodyguards. The latter were trying to look formidable, the former was pulling the standard big bad Hutt routine.

<Of course,> Argen replied in Huttese with a smile. <My ship?s faster than anything else at sublight and she?s no slouch when it comes to lightspeed either. I can get your merchandise to Naboo faster than a swoop race lasts on Nar Shaddaa.> Argen lifted his left arm up, which caused the guards to twitch before they saw he wasn?t doing anything aggressive.

Pressing a few buttons on his wrist unit a small holographic display of his ship sprang up. <Arakyd Striker, runs four H-L Block ion drives giving her one fifteen megalights. She?ll run circles around anything, even those little Scyk fighters you often see under Hutt flags.>

<She?s got a class 1 hyperdrive so she gets anywhere in qu

 

Aubrey Daviau
Corellian Orbit, Shipyards, Aboard the Imperial DP20

Aubrey looked up from the droid to the technician who appeared in the doorway. Jemargh raised his gun to the man?s head, and pushed him into the room. Aubrey yelled up at them.

?Don?t shoot him! He?s not Imperial. He?s just a technician.?

Everyone in the cockpit looked back at Aubrey, who continued to try to reprogram the droid. Ruuj called back to Aubrey.

?He?s seen our faces. I will not be put to death for your honor.?

Aubrey left her datapad next to the droid and stood up. She gestured at Ralil to complete the memory wipe. Aubrey walked into the cockpit, followed by Tia and Lersia. The droid stayed back to assist Ralil. Aubrey walked forward until she only a few feet from Ruuj. She leaned towards him and Damian stepped forward.

?This man has done nothing to stop us. Do not shoot him. We can drop him off on the way.?

Aubrey snapped her fingers at Jemargh, who slowly lowered his gun, staring at Ruuj. Ruuj snorted, but stepped back and away, going to cover the other side of the ship. Aubrey pulled out her own gun now, and pointed it at the technician?s knee.

?I may have saved your life, but you can survive without a kneecap. Does this vessel have any tracking devices? Anything that will prevent our safe departure? Think carefully where your allegiances lie, before you answer.?

With a near-crisis averted, Tia jumped into action. She began prepping the engines to leave. The droid who had been helping Ralil came at Tia?s call and helped her. Lersia was already calculating the fastest route to Merson.

Tag: Sarge

 

IC: Romeyn Oakes
The Blue Mynock

"Just a sec." Romeyn heard the 'Captain' say before the ship lurched into the blue vortex of hyperspace casting an eerie light throughout the cabin. Once that small task was completed, Romeyn observed the 'Captain' pull off the helmet that fit snugly on the being's head to reveal the long hair and smooth features of a woman. A look of mild amusement crossed Romeyn's face as he stared into the green eyes of his rescuer.

Green eyes that suggested they might have taken life at some point. Wonder how many lustful males have found those charming eyes the last thing they ever saw? She's got the look. The look of a hunter Romeyn thought as he stepped back away from the cockpit to allow more room for the woman.

"The name is Striker. And welcome aboard the Blue Mynok."

So she had a name to go with those green eyes and long hair. That was a start. That was progress. Perhaps the beginning of a business relationship. That relationship was outlined a minute later.

"And this ship is a working ship. So, if you got any skills, maybe cooking or something, then you work as well. She pointed over her shoulder. Grim, he's pulling navi and gunner duties at the moment. But, you did pay..so thats worth something."

Romeyn looked over his shoulder at the man called Grim. Guy looked like he had been through hell. Maybe he had. Haven't we all in this galaxy dominated by the Empire? Oakes thought as he gave a polite nod to the figure before returning his attention to Striker.

"Yeah, I can cook. Cook anything you want. Grew up on the range back home on Roon so spent many lonely nights preparing some simple meals that may not look like much but they'll fill your stomach, guarantee you that. I have no problem pitching in, either, Striker. Only one thing you need to know about me. What you see is what you get. I'm just thankful that you stopped by and helped me out, really appreciate the generosity. Such manners are running out in this galaxy as the Empire closes in," Romeyn said.

Striker chuckled. "You caught us at a good time. We're on a run. Salvage. We're headed for Geonosis. I've plotted a wide route to get us there, in case there are other takers, dont want us all meeting up at the same time. Besides, give us a chance to know a bit more, before we get to work."

"Geonosis," Oakes repeated aloud. Though he had never been there he had heard plenty of stories as a child about the conflicts fought on that miserable planet in the Clone Wars. Kind of place that still had the presence of death and destruction. War relics from an age not so long ago. An age when there had been Jedi. An age when there had been justice. An age when his family could prosper.

Damn the Empire Romeyn raged inside his mind, his face tightening as he thought of better times. Times he had known only as a child but they were precious memories to be cherished.

His thoughts were interrupted by the motion of Striker returning to her seat, further shattered by her comment, "By the way. Got one more crew member to meet later. Hope you two can get along, or its going to be a very long trip."

Romeyn laughed, first time he had done so in quite awhile. Since leaving home. "Haven't met a creature in this galaxy that I cannot get along with, Striker. Though, I will admit, people aren't my favorite but I sure love the animals."

"Can you make a good cup of cafa, farm boy?" Striker asked.

"One of the best in the galaxy, ma'am. At least, by the standards of a rancher of Roon," Oakes replied with a wink heading to the tiny galley to do just that. It didn't take long, finding the necessary ingredients for such a drink in various cupboards and panels that were designed to conserve as much space as possible. After all, a Skipray Blastboat wasn't the biggest craft in the galaxy. Cramped, but well designed.

Romeyn made three cups of cafa and proceeded to return to the cockpit, passing one to the man known as Grim as he did so. Just hoped the man enjoyed a nice beverage. Looked

 

IC: Grim
Aboard the Blue Mynok

Simply listening and staying out of sight, Grim bid his time until Striker finally introduced him to the new crewman on board, Romeyn Oakes.

He had to admit, Striker had a very clever sense of humor, irony and timing. This was going to be quite an enjoyable adventure.

As he was introduced, Grim gave the farmer a nod and a knowing smile. He saluted him with two fingers and gave him solid once-over-glance. "Welcome aboard..." he repeated in a welcoming tone, then chuckled at Oakes expression at seeing him. To the man's credit, Oakes remained polite and non-judgmental, which was punctuated by his nod.

Outwardly, Grim knew he looked like someone who had probably been in a swoop bike accident. His dark hair and general appearance was unkempt. He didn't have much choice in the matter, given his circumstances, but perhaps that would change soon. It certainly seemed like their collective luck was improving for the better.

"I prefer being gunner..." Grim put in quickly as he pantomimed being in a gun turret and made some shooting noises. "*SHOOM, SHOOM, SHOOM!...know what I mean?"

He gave a man a playful wink and a smile, and became silent for a short while. In reality, he was in awe of Striker and how maturely she'd handled herself. For someone younger, she was unknowingly schooling him. The whole trust and revelation dynamic was....something he would have to deal with sooner or later.

"By the way. Got one more crew member to meet later. Hope you two can get along, or its going to be a very long trip."

Grim chuckled at that, knowing exactly who Striker was speaking of.

Romeyn laughed, "Haven't met a creature in this galaxy that I cannot get along with, Striker. Though, I will admit, people aren't my favorite, but I sure love the animals."

"Can you make a good cup of cafa, farm boy?" Striker asked.

"One of the best in the galaxy, ma'am. At least, by the standards of a rancher of Roon," Oakes replied with a wink heading to the tiny galley to do just that, and it didn't take long.

Soon, the farmer was back with three cups of cafa. Grim smiled as he took a whiff of the tantalizing aroma. "Thanks..." He said, as he accepted a cup from Romyn, who smoothly moved on and took a seat in the cockpit next to Striker and handed her a cup.

Raising his cup, Romeyn said, "To the crew of the Blue Mynock and our adventures on Geonosis. May we have success and come back to our respective homes safe and sound."

Home.

Grim sighed mentally and forced himself to stay in the moment.

"Aye. Aye..."

Almost at once, they all took a long and satisfying sip. Grim found himself licking his lips in culinary pleasure. Though not his drink of choice, he had to admit, this had to be the BEST cup of cafa he'd ever tasted.

"So, what brought you out to Merson?" Romeyn asked as he was the first to speak up.

"I came looking for decent work...." Grim put in, and left his sentence trail for a moment. Merson was not known for its overabundance of 'decent' work. "I haven't been able to scrounge up sufficient credits to move on to a better location." he concluded, not being able to help the shadowy look that passed over his differently coloured eyes. The darkening gaze did not last long however, as he did not allow himself to dwell on unspoken things, but instead, forced them out of his mind and livened up a bit, intrigued now by the possibility of learning a bit more about his new found companions.

"What about you?" he asked both Striker and Romyn.

Tag: Ktala, Liam

OOC: FYI, I'll only be able to post during (late) evening hrs.

 

Striker
Aboard the Blue Mynok

Striker smiled as she saw the look of mild amusement crossed Romeyn's face. Well, perhaps coming to Merson wasnt a bad thing after all. She gave the man a nod.

"And this ship is a working ship. So, if you got any skills, maybe cooking or something, then you work as well. She pointed over her shoulder. Grim, he's pulling navi and gunner duties at the moment. But, you did pay..so thats worth something."

Romeyn looked over his shoulder at the man called Grim. Grim gave him a two fingered salute. "I prefer being gunner..." Grim put in quickly as he pantomimed being in a gun turret and made some shooting noises. "*SHOOM, SHOOM, SHOOM!...know what I mean?"

Oakes thought as he gave a polite nod to the figure before returning his attention to Striker, even as Striker laughed softly.

"Yeah, I can cook. Cook anything you want. Grew up on the range back home on Roon so spent many lonely nights preparing some simple meals that may not look like much but they'll fill your stomach, guarantee you that. I have no problem pitching in, either, Striker. Only one thing you need to know about me. What you see is what you get. I'm just thankful that you stopped by and helped me out, really appreciate the generosity. Such manners are running out in this galaxy as the Empire closes in," Romeyn said.

Striker nodded, as she told Oakes that their destination was Geonosis.

"Geonosis," Oakes repeated aloud. "By the way. Got one more crew member to meet later. Hope you two can get along, or its going to be a very long trip."

Romeyn laughed, as Grim chuckled. Striker gave Grim a wink.

"Haven't met a creature in this galaxy that I cannot get along with, Striker. Though, I will admit, people aren't my favorite but I sure love the animals." Striker game Oakes a smile. "Good to hear it." She then asked him, "Can you make a good cup of cafa, farm boy?"

"One of the best in the galaxy, ma'am. At least, by the standards of a rancher of Roon," Oakes replied with a wink heading to the galley. "Thank goodness!" Striker said softly. She sucked at making cafa. It was drinkable, but...well, it was drinkable. Female or not, standing in a galley was NOT something she did well. If it wasnt for Daks, she would probably live off rations. Well.. not really, but she hated cooking.

Romeyn returned with three cups of cafa and proceeded to return to the cockpit, passing one to the man known as Grim as he did so. "Thanks..." Grim replied as Oakes took a seat in the cockpit next to Striker and handed her a cup.

Raising his cup, Romeyn said, "To the crew of the Blue Mynock and our adventures on Geonosis. May we have success and come back to our respective homes safe and sound."

Home? Striker simply nodded. She noted that Grim didnt sound to enthused about the word either. She said nothing, but simply took a deep drink of the cafa.

"So, what brought you out to Merson?" Oakes asked them.

"I came looking for decent work...." Grim chimed in, and left his sentence trail for a moment. After a pause he added, "What about you?" he asked both Striker and Romyn.

Striker gave a soft laugh. "Well, believe it or not, I came working for work as well. Might not be the best stuff around, but its guaranteed to not have any Imperial strings with it." Stiker snorted. "I was a guide. Tracker. Best in the business. Took out rich hunter wanna-be types. But then they stopped coming. Soon, too many stang people, trying to become bag-a-bounties kept bothering me. I wasnt interested. Some folks dont take the word NO to kindly. I just want to earn fair pay."

Striker took another deep sip of the cafa. "This is great cafa." she told Oakes. She was about to make another comment, when she heard a small crash come from her room.

"DAKS!" she growled. She sit down the cup, and leaped over her seat, as she moved, heading for her cabin.

"Heads up." she called out, as she headed for the door.



Tag: Greyjedi, Liam

OOC: Tis all good, Grey. Just post when

 

Bbaru, Issagra Station and elsewhere

Bbaru had barely taken four steps away from his ship when the first sense of danger flooded his senses. He knelt, his large compound eyes snapping shut to look inward, as the visions came in fast. A triplet of armed silhouettes, a heavy blaster pistol tearing a hole through his left shoulder, ships painted a deep bloody red converging inexorably on a MorningStar-B, a set of coordinates flashing by in blue lettering, a Rendili Light Corvette filling the space just behind him with a volley of turbolaser fire, the sneering face of an Imperial officer...

The ominous echo of six boots on durasteel dragging him back to the present, the Gand turned somberly towards the hangar entrance as a triplet of armed silhouettes came slowly into view. The Human in the center was revealed first when he stepped into the light, now merely twenty feet from the starfighter and Bbaru himself, a rifle of some sort in his hands. Flanking the stocky dark-haired merc were a huge axe-wielding Gamorrean (typical) and a snarling, unusually tall Rodian wielding a DH-17 blaster pistol, to Bbaru's pleasant surprise. Of course, it wasn't set to Stun at the moment, but the fact that the DH-17 could be at all was a plus.

"Gand," the human sneered as the trio moved in, blasters pointed unerringly at Bbaru's face, "Krash isn't pleased with you. You're gonna come with us, got it? Any funny moves and we'll turn your head to slag." His non-human partners grunted in agreement. And there seemed to be few problems with them carrying out their threat, due to the utter emptiness of the hangar; that was why Bbaru had chosen this one, after all, as people generally came into Issagra Station from the aft and port sides rather than from planetside.

There'd be few problems beyond one obvious issue, anyway. Bbaru didn't bother holding back his non-Basic laughter, which came out as something like "Kruu kruu kruu kruuuuuu!"; he'd long ago programmed the vocoder to refrain from translating anything more obnoxious than a soft chuckle. "Are you all that he sent?" the robed findsman asked with a practiced politeness that could only sound mocking in such a situation. "Bbaru hopes you are aware that Bbaru's bodyguarding skill is not specialized towards starfighter combat. It is...rather more 'up close and personal' than that."

Politeness dictated that he give Krash's woefully unprepared goons three seconds to process his words before making his move. Not feeling magnanimous at the moment, the Gand allowed them just one. Then the whirl of dark robes hid his motion until three chitinous fingers had wrenched the Rodian's gun barrel away from himself and towards the middle opponent in under a fifth of a standard second, his free hand slapping the lever to Stun just as the thug fired instinctively. Azure paralysis beams washed over the human, rendering him a twitching, unconscious mess within moments. Nearly retracing its previous movement, Bbaru's right hand flicked through the air briefly once more, this time cleanly slicing the pistol's barrel in half before smashing into the Rodian's solar plexus. While the humanoid slid unconscious across the hangar, he'd already turned his attention to the Gamorrean, who had, most impressively for one of his species, begun to react despite less than half a second having passed thus far. The vibroaxe immediately began its slow descent...and was halted just as swiftly when Bbaru blurred past its wielder, left elbow striking the burly creature square in the forehead, then extending in the same motion to place a knifehand strike at the center of his back. He, too, fell unconscious towards the cold durasteel floor, eyes wide but unfocused.

One second after he'd begun moving, with the Gamorrean and Human still in the process of collapsing, Bbaru whirled and sprinted past them, back towards his ship. He highly doubted Krash would stop at one failed attempt to apprehend or kill him, and the latter of the two options was looking more and more likely. In fact, there was probably another group

 

IC: Liesl Bridehead
Boss Scaggs' Hangar, Issagra Station

It wasn't a race, but that didn't keep Liesl from noting her time on the chrono. After all, she'd promised that she get her repairs done in five hours. Two hours ago the droid had finished his exterior work and gone back to his position and turned himself off to recharge for his regular work. At that point Liesl had been just getting the grav housing into place. Now she had all the connections in place, which meant that after a few quick adjustments her repairs were complete.

Four hours, thirty seven minutes, and sixteen seconds. Liesl smiled. Not bad at all, not bad at all... Liesl thought to herself.

She pulled herself up off the floor and went up to the cockpit to find Culain.

"Culain! See about starting up!" Liesl called as she approached the cockpit.

Tag: Morkai

OOC: Sorry about the super short post, but it's been a long day and I wanted to get Morkai on his way.

 

IC: Kol Arantis
Aboard ICS Impinger, Orbiting Naboo

Kol stood upright and attentive throughout the duration of the admiral?s orders. Once or twice he had glanced over at Senn to ensure he and the midshipmen on duty were seamlessly transferring the data contents of the sent packets into the ship?s banks and nav computers. Most important in the transfer were technical readouts of CT-01 itself along with a detailed hyperspace route plan provided by command.

"Hopefully, barring any delays, you will be able to arrive before we mopped up the invading forces so that your trip won't be a total waste. Fleet, out."

Wouldn?t want to be late for the party, Arantis half smirked to himself before ensuring the comms station?s connections were cut and links were powered down. He looked out at Naboo, its mass large enough to entirely eclipse the starboard half of the bridge viewports. His eyes unintentionally locking on a small circular cloud cluster in the upper atmosphere, Kol?s eyes unfocused as he stared into it. The way it moved symmetrically and inexorably drew him in and he zoned out completely, his fatigue getting the better of him. The lieutenant needed sleep.

He made his way back past Senn and the bridge crew who were busy inputting coordinates and filling out data sheets to be sent off to Customs Headquarters on Coruscant. As a result of the capture operation of the CR90 a few days ago, they had been temporarily attached to the Customs section operating out of the Chommell Sector. However, the fleet operation at CT-01 superseded their previous orders, and changes in the documentation needed to be sent out prior to the redeployment. Those aboard Impinger were especially conditioned for that sort of data amendment, considering the frequency with which the ship and complement were dispatched to far-flung theaters.

?Ensign, you?ve got our orders. Input fleet command?s coords for the two jumps and get us rolling. The admiral was right. Given that our engines have a little more punch than the older model corvettes, we?ll probably get there right when things are heating up. Bridge is yours.?

Arantis completed his exit, entering the turbolift and heading straight for his cabin.

Once inside he undid his tunic. Draping it over the back of his desk chair, he seated himself in a controlled crash and activated his private terminal. A few keystrokes brought up a course map projected from the ship?s navigation computer data. Setting it to alert him with a beeping tone when the Impinger was nearing the first stop on the multi-jump route to CT-01, Kol stood slowly and proceeded to his bed. Eager to get some needed rest, he forwent an extra shot of liquor and collapsed. He was so drained that he didn?t even feel the vessel?s powerful lurch as it rocketed past realspace.

---

[link=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aFfOacxTVmg&feature=related]The court.[/link]

??Agent, according to your report, you captured the communications headquarters on Gerrenthum at 0900 local time. Explain to the panel how.? The voice belonged to the snobby Imperial Military Attorney standing before him, a naval captain by the name Dejiss.

Arantis swallowed and cleared his throat, glancing over at the other officers from various ranks of the military who were receiving his testimony. "We were blacked out across the planet. My reasoning was that by taking the comms center we could reestablish our link with the holonet transciever at the edge of the system, and send a distress signal to the military base on Gerrenthum 3.? He allowed a pause, looking down at his superbly polished boots before continuing. ?To that end, I effected the recapture with a mixed unit of off-duty naval officers and enlisted men, stormtroopers, local security, some of my own agents, and others."

Dejiss turned his head in mock confusion. ?[i]Others[/i]?? He allowed a snide laugh, ?Would you elaborate to the panel on just who these ?others? actually were??

?Yes I agree, tell us,? A member of the attending audience called out with a

 

IC: Romeyn Oakes
The Blue Mynock-Hyperspace to Geonosis

Romeyn laughed at the imitation of a laser turret in action directed by Grim. The man seemed to have a sense of humor that further distracted ones attention from his eyes. Eyes that were not the same color. Eyes that seemed to hide secrets. Secrets that Romeyn, at the present moment, wasn't interested in discovering. That would be revealed in time, he was sure, as trust was built between the crew of the Blue Mynock.

"So, what brought you out to Merson?" Oakes asked them.

"I came looking for decent work...." Grim chimed in, and left his sentence trail for a moment. After a pause he added, "What about you?" he asked both Striker and Romyn.

Romeyn was about to open his mouth when Striker offered her own take on her reasons for being on Merson.

Striker gave a soft laugh. "Well, believe it or not, I came working for work as well. Might not be the best stuff around, but its guaranteed to not have any Imperial strings with it." Stiker snorted. "I was a guide. Tracker. Best in the business. Took out rich hunter wanna-be types. But then they stopped coming. Soon, too many stang people, trying to become bag-a-bounties kept bothering me. I wasnt interested. Some folks dont take the word NO to kindly. I just want to earn fair pay."

"Tracking sounds like a difficult business, Striker. Especially avoiding those Imperial attachments and entanglements. I understand about a business drying up. My family back on Roon is experiencing economic hardships as the nerf industry fades into the distant past, at least, on the small farm scale. That's what led me off Roon. Had to sell a herd on Alderaan, one of the few places that still respects a good crop of the animals. And as for how I ended up at Merson? I say somebody on Alderaan didn't like me, why, well, I won't ever know. Computer malfunction. Can't stand the damn things, these technological enhancements make life far more difficult. On Roon we still have traditional methods out on the prairie but I'm concerned how long our ways will last. In the capital on Nime, well there is an Imperial presence as the governor of Roon is firmly under the thumb of the Imperial bureaucracy. Governor Koong is his name and he is a right piece of work. Raising tariffs on exports and harming the agricultural foundation of the planet. Plundering my world for our precious Roonstones. Wouldn't mind putting a few holes in him just to liberate the planet of his presence," Romeyn finished, bitterness and anger in his voice.

Romeyn hadn't meant to divulge so much information to people he had only met a short time ago but he felt a common kinship with his shipmates. A common goal that the Empire was not the greatest government to grace the stars. Everyone was affected by its monolithic presence. The minions of the Empire left few stones unturned. For a rancher from Roon to be complaining about Imperial edicts and puppet rulers, well, it went to show that even in the furthest corners of the galaxy, their presence could be felt and hated.

Striker gently broke that train of thought by commenting on the cafa much to the relief of Oakes.

Striker took another deep sip of the cafa. "This is great cafa." she told Oakes. She was about to make another comment, when she heard a small crash come from her room.

"Glad you like it. Seems you two have been deprived of a decent cook for some time. Least I can do for the two of you," Romeyn replied with a wink, eager to please. Perhaps it was his country upbringing, but polite manners were never a problem for him unless someone really got on his bad side. Then they'd regret they ever crossed him.

A noise from the back of the Blue Mynock caught his attention. He strained to look down the narrow confines of the ship in the direction of his bunk in the extreme rear of the vessel. The sounds were unlike anything he had ever experienced before.

"DAKS!" she growled. She sit down the cup, and leaped over her seat, as she moved, heading for her cabin.

"Heads up." she

 

Bbaru, Right in the Middle of Nowhere

Other than jumping into a black hole cluster or Imperial territory, Bbaru's jump had been the worst possible. He was low on hyperdrive fuel, thus limiting his maximum jump distance, and the course he'd chosen passed right next to several large gravity wells (including, dangerously, black hole clusters), thus limiting his minimum jump distance because stopping at the wells would be extraordinarily dangerous; his damaged sublight engines might not break him free. All in all, this precise distance limitation meant that a careful calculation of his jump trajectory was equivalent to determining his destination. What a terrible Force vision.

Thus, muttering darkly, Bbaru immediately punched in a second set of coordinates as he snapped back into realspace and warning klaxons sounded. He was hoping not to stick around for long between jumps -- wait, alarms? Confused, the Gand glanced at his scanners. Then, his huge compound eyes widening even further in horror, he turned to the starboard viewport and gazed, stunned, at the approaching Rendili Light Corvette.

That was the worst fragging Force vision ever.

Instinct took over, but in the case of Bbaru piloting a starfighter that wasn't much help. He lamely threw the tri-winged ship into a barrel roll, evading the capital ship's nonexistent fire. "Impy scum," he growled fiercely, diverting power from his battered shields to the heavy laser cannons as he banked towards his target. "Let's see what I can do to you with a wounded --"

?Unidentified MorningStar, this is Lieutenant Arantis of the Imperial Customs Ship Impinger." His comm crackled far too loudly as the Imperials keyed into the public channel he was using. "Looks like you?re banged up a little bit. If you require assistance we will provide, over.?

"....."

Having only just entered his suicidal anti-Imperial rage, Bbaru called upon Findsman and Jedi meditative training to calm himself as he considered the situation. Of course there could be Imperial officers who didn't consider themselves above the law, who genuinely cared about the ideals of the original Republic and its citizens. Just because they were in the overwhelming minority didn't mean he should make assumptions about this Arantis. Well, at least he shouldn't act on them just yet.

He could certainly take this lieutenant up on his seemingly generous offer. He could allow the corvette to engage these fighters, then slip away during the skirmish.

Or...he could trust the vision that had taken him here, trust that it had done so for a better reason than to save him from a few starfighters, and stick with this officer.

"Ye...yes, Impinger," he managed after a delay that he hoped wouldn't seem suspicious. "Gand is being pursued by five smugglers in G-59s, one Z-95, and one BTL-A4. Gand is a law-abiding citizen who knows too much about their operations and would appreciate assistance." Immediately, he peeled off from what would've been an attack run and engaged the space from which the smugglers would enter.

As the first of them popped out of hyperspace and almost immediately began to retreat at the sight of the corvette, Bbaru, the Force already telling him where the fighter would materialize, pumped lasers into the BTL-A4's cockpit. The lethargic craft's delayed attempt at a turn wasn't nearly enough to save it. Its viewport bubbled inward, then gave way; the pilot was vaporized in seconds.

But then the rest of the ships arrived almost simultaneously. A Z-95 rolled tightly as it spiraled towards the corvette's guns, firing madly and juking all the while. Coming out of hyperspace just behind him were the three G-59s, two flanking the Headhunter on its attack run, the last forced to break off as the Gand engaged it. Trusting the corvette to take out the other three fighters, Bbaru tailed one Cannibalizer closely, trigger finger pulsing. Its weaving evaded the heavy laser cannons as it corkscrewed downwards and suddenly pulled away into an unbanked hard right, but a spray of the

 

Striker
The Blue Mynock-Hyperspace to Geonosis

"DAKS!"

Striker moved over to her room, and with an irritated growl, slapped the controls that opened the door. The door quickly closed behind her as she stepped in. There was silence for a few moments.

Near the front part of the ship, Grim had a bit of a smirk on his face, knowing full well what was probably happening. Romeyn could only guess.

**Crash**

"DAKS! Will you calm ... *crunch*... "Will you STOP iT! I said.." *BASH*... "DAKS!"

"MEEEEEEOOOOOWWWWWWW!"

The last part sounded more like a very ticked off Cathar in her room. The growl definitely sounded angry.

"I'm going to skin you, you miserably furball!"

Her door slid open, and a solid black angry mass of fur comes streaking from her room. It first slams against Grims room, but seeing that the door does not open, it quickly moves forward for the galley.

Striker came out seconds behind her, holding a collar, and the look as if Daks wasnt a friend, she would have probably shot it.

"DAKS!"

Romeyn saw the black streak curve and head into a tiny room, possibly the 'freshner. The door shut behind the streak.

Striker reached the door, and keyed in a few quick keys on the doorpad. She then gave a satisfied grin, as several angry howls came from the room.

Striker looked over at the pair, with a wide grin. Several bits of her uniform looked decidedly chewed on. "I just set the room to the cleaning cycle. Serves her right."

After a few long minutes, and angry howls later, a much more contrite 'meow' came from the room. Striker smiled.

"Oakes. Meet Daks. Daks...be good."

Striker slapped the controls.

A much more controlled and normal black feline, with large green eyes strolled from the room. Daks looks decidedly 'poofy' from the last time Grim had seen her. Her black fur stood out all over, and green eyes looked over at Striker. She was rather large cat, but a cat none the less.

"Meow!"

Striker held back a laugh, as she looked away. "Well, that was YOUR fault. Even after I got you fresh fish!"

Daks gave a soft purr, and was about to rub against Striker until she noticed Oakes standing there.

"Mrrrr?" That meow sounded like a question to Oakes. Slolwy, the feline made its way over towards him.

"I would suggest you dont move." Striker told him, as she followed Daks.

Daks gave the man the once over, sniffing. She then backed away a bit, and started sneezing. Sneezing?

With a huff, Daks looked at the man. "MeeeOOOW!" she proclaimed, before turning away, and heading back towards the galley. "Arent you forgetting something?" she asked Daks, holding up the collar.

Daks turned, and sat, allowing Striker to put the collar on her. Daks then continued into the galley. Striker gave a gentle sigh, looking at Oakes.

"Well, she didnt take your face off. Guess that makes you official crew then." she said with a laugh. Striker eased her way back into the pilots seat. "Oh...before i forget. That room, is MY room. Off limits, unless told otherwise."

Striker leaned back. "Could I get another cup of Cafa? I could use a good nap now..ugh."

Striker leaned back against the pilot seat, her eyes checking over the instruments. She closed her eyes, rubbing them. She had been having a real strange sensation lately. She coudlnt put a finger on it, but it was just so... errie feeling. But it wasnt the people she had just picked up. No, she didnt get any warning bells from either folks. But still.. Maybe it was about their destination.

"So. Do any of you know anything about where we are going?" she asked them, opening her eyes just a bit.



Tag: Liam, GreyJedi

 

IC: Romeyn Oakes
The Blue Mynock

"Oakes. Meet Daks. Daks...be good."

"Hello, Daks," Oakes announced, leaning over to examine the black feline more closely.

Daks gave a soft purr, and was about to rub against Striker until she noticed Oakes standing there.

"Mrrrr?" That meow sounded like a question to Oakes. Slolwy, the feline made its way over towards him.

Romeyn stared at the black feline and laughed. "So this was the creature making all the ruckus? My, you are a feisty one," Oakes observed.

"I would suggest you dont move." Striker told him, as she followed Daks.

Romeyn took her warning to heart. Small creatures could pack quite a punch.

Daks gave the man the once over, sniffing. She then backed away a bit, and started sneezing. Sneezing?

With a huff, Daks looked at the man. "MeeeOOOW!" she proclaimed, before turning away, and heading back towards the galley. "Arent you forgetting something?" she asked Daks, holding up the collar.

Daks turned, and sat, allowing Striker to put the collar on her. Daks then continued into the galley. Striker gave a gentle sigh, looking at Oakes.

"Well, she didnt take your face off. Guess that makes you official crew then." she said with a laugh. Striker eased her way back into the pilots seat. "Oh...before i forget. That room, is MY room. Off limits, unless told otherwise."

"Glad to see I meet her seal of approval. Wouldn't want to see her angry. As for your quarters, I never wouldn't even dream of it. Learned that one from an ex girlfriend I had once. Let's just say I'm still smarting from that lesson," Oakes replied.

Striker leaned back. "Could I get another cup of Cafa? I could use a good nap now..ugh."

"Another cup of Cafa, on the way," Oakes announced, whipping off to the galley to do just that. He returned moments later and handed both Grim and Striker another cup.

"So. Do any of you know anything about where we are going?" she asked them, opening her eyes just a bit.

"Geonosis? Hell of a planet. Many stories made their way to Roon when I was growing up. Stories of war, love, loss, and maybe some treasure. Honestly, I don't know why you'd take a job to that miserable planet. Makes Tatooine look like a vacation resort and the locals aren't that friendly either, from what I hear. Plenty of old droid factories left over from the Clone Wars, lots of places for people to hide who do not want to be found. I suppose that's where you come in, Striker," Oakes announced.

"Correction," He paused, casting a glance in Grim's direction, "that's where we come in."

Tag: Ktala, GreyJedi

OOC: Sorry if I butchered your post in responding, kind of had an issue with the copy and paste so hope this works.

 

IC: Grim
Aboard the Blue Mynok, Hyperspace, En route to Geonosis

For the most part, Grim listened and watched the interaction between Striker and Oats. The man may be an easy going farmer, but he was filled with an admirable sense of what was right and wrong, which was made evident as he spoke of life on his home planet of Roon and the effects brought on by an ever oppressive Empire.

Grim tried to keep himself from showing too much disgust as Oaks describes a few details of the conditions Imperial rule had brought to his planet. Overtaxation, the exploitation of resources and puppet leaders, that was a tell-tale sign of things to come. The first steps before complete planetary domination.

Striker was kind enough to break the train of thought by commenting on Oaks culinary skills. Grim nodded in total agreement.

"Glad you like it. Seems you two have been deprived of a decent cook for some time. Least I can do for the two of you." Romeyn commented with a wink. Grim smiled and gave the man a respectful nod. If he'd only known how right he was, at least where Grim was concerned. Staying alive had been a constant challenge for him for over a decade as he felt himself continually slipping into a darker place, little by little, day after day. He knew no comforts, luxuries or vices. His desire for revenge against the Empire was his only fuel for living. The only thing that kept him from giving up everything in the face of perceived futility.

Suddenly, a noise from the back of the ship caught everyone's attention.

"DAKS!" Striker growled and immediately headed in the direction of the noise. Grim tried his best to withhold a grin of amusement.

Oakes shot a glance at Grim, who only smiled and shrugged his shoulders. It was almost impossible for him to feign innocence, so he didn't even try. He obviously knew something, but whatever it was, he did not immediately share. He was too busy enjoying the look in Oakes face.

There was much ado and blustering as Daks made her grand entrance. Grim was content with making himself a spectator through the whole affair. Needless to say, he was happy that Oakes managed to keep his 'face' as Striker liked to remind them. It would appear that Daks was the perfect screener. Should one fail her test...

Grim chuckled at the thought and was simply glad that both he and Oakes had passed the felines test. In addition, Grim curiosity was peaked once again when Strike declared (for Oakes' benefit) that her room was off-limits once again. He wondered what their young and spunky captain could be hiding there, but that was a passing curiosity. He very much disliked anyone that trespassed on his private belongings, so he wouldn't dream of visiting such an insult on someone who'd showed him much kindness.

Oakes response to Striker's warning was especially humorous. He could almost envision it.

Leaning back on her pilot's chair, Striker requested another cup of Cafa, which Oakes provided in short order. Grim smiled, enjoying the building camaraderie growing between them. It would take time for it to solidify, but this was a good beginning. It'd been a long time since he'd travelled in the company of others, especially since he did not trust most folks, but there was something happening here, something he couldn't see quite clearly at the moment.

And once again, it was Striker who broke his reverie.

"So, do any of you know anything about where we are going?" she asked them, opening her eyes just a bit.

Oakes was the first to respond.

"Geonosis? Hell of a planet. Many stories made their way to Roon when I was growing up. Stories of war, love, loss, and maybe some treasure. Honestly, I don't know why you'd take a job to that miserable planet. Makes Tatooine look like a vacation resort and the locals aren't that friendly either, from what I hear."

Grim chuckled at the Tatooine comment, but otherwise did not interrupt the farmer as he spoke.

"Plenty of old droid factories left over from the Clone Wars, lots of places

 

Idissan Tzek

He stood and listened to this.. repulsive idea of a loyal servant of the New Order until he left the bridge.
Handing over the vessel to a mutant was not something that made Idissan Tzek a happy man. But there was little he could do at the moment. But he would be there when the abomination made a mistake and he would make damn sure that he was the one who eradicated the galaxy of such a monstrosity as the man known as Kev-Mas was.

And then he placed the command with a.. with a Lieutenant? Outrageous!
Idissan glared at Holt.

"I trust you to not make any junior mistakes. The mutant clearly trusts you, why I do not know. Perhaps the pair of you indeed are a lovers in crime and you are nothing but a good actress. Time will tell [/i]Lieutenant Holt[/i]" he said with distaste.

"Your loyalty will be monitored".

The mutant had not left any orders for Idissan himself, thus leaving him free to his own devices. Where the cloaked plague infested rebellion scum in disguise had left he had no idea. But Idissan had to make sure that the former Jedi did not get a chance to meet up with his contact.
This whole ordeal was probably a plan for them to join forces and take control of both the star destroyer and the factory.

"Lieutenant Holt, whatever you do. Do not trust that Kev-Mas, he is a former jedi, a loyal servant of the republic. It is only a question of time before he turns back to his old heretic ways"

Idissan Tzek motioned at his droid to follow him and they both left the ship in Lieutenant Holts hands. His loyalty burned within his eyes, lights flashed by as the turbo lift descended into the belly of the ship lighting up his thin figure.
But his figure said nothing in comparison to what his actions does.

It would be one bad day for a rogue Jedi and his traitor friends on the space station, a very bad day.

TAG: Jello, Kev-Mas, Sarge

 

Lana Vangress - Striker
Aboard the Blue Mynok, Hyperspace, En route to Geonosis

"Good caffa." Striker told Oakes as she got the second cup of coffee. "Glad you like it. Seems you two have been deprived of a decent cook for some time. Least I can do for the two of you." Romeyn commented with a wink. Grim smiled. Striker chuckled. She leaned back in her seat.

"So, do any of you know anything about where we are going?" she asked them, opening her eyes just a bit.

Oakes was the first to respond.

"Geonosis? Hell of a planet. Many stories made their way to Roon when I was growing up. Stories of war, love, loss, and maybe some treasure. Honestly, I don't know why you'd take a job to that miserable planet. Makes Tatooine look like a vacation resort and the locals aren't that friendly either, from what I hear."

Grim chuckled. Striker grinned.

"Plenty of old droid factories left over from the Clone Wars, lots of places for people to hide who do not want to be found. I suppose that's where you come in, Striker," Oakes declared. "Correction," He paused, casting a glance in Grim's direction, "that's where we come in."

Grim gave a smile and a nod. "Right you are..." he stated. "I'm not too shabby when it comes to 'sniffing out' trouble..." Grim asserted, "...and dealing with it." He said with a measure of factual assurance.

"For the most part, I think Geonosis is a good destination for the very same reasons you mentioned, my friend. It's unlikely that such a planet would be the first stop on the 'average' salvager's list. Anyone going there would have to be willing to take a fair share of risks, just like we are..."

At that, Grim grinned at both his crew mates.

"Besides, we have Daks. I already feel sorry for any hapless traveler that crosses her path. Or any of us for that matter." Grim gave a solid nod and continued. "Either way, I'm pretty sure we'll be able to find some useful salvage. We should at least break even, but I'm betting that we might make a decent enough profit. Dunno, it's just a hunch."

Striker opened her eyes once more, nodding. "I agree. "Ive heard a few stories about the place as well. And if half of them are true, then I doubt the Empire is simply letting the planet lay low." She said, looking at a screen. "I plan to drop us out of hyperspace some distance from the planet, to make sure nothing is floating around that lump of dirt. Run a few scans, and try to pick up a spot not visited by the tourists." Striker leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes.

She gave a soft grunt, when Daks leaped up out of nowhere into her lap. Soon, loud purring was heard throughout the cabin. "Here's to finding something worthwhile out there. You do the work, then you're an partner." Striker grinned. "Who knows, maybe we get lucky, and find something special out there. Now that would be something."

Striker grinned happily, imaginating what treasures they might find.



Tag: Liam, grey

 

Argen Devalie
Issagra Station
Docking Bay 138

Sloppiness Loses Lives

Arden had spent forty five minutes and thirty credits at a near by Biscuit Baron stocking up on a couple Jolly Meal?s while he waited for the Hutt?s cargo to arrive. Now he stood and watched as two Twi?lek workers loaded two large cargo containers on to his small cargo mover all the while sipping on a large Soda of some random variety currently sponsored by the Tagge Restaurant Association.

Just as he was about to take another sip one of the Twi?leks lost his grip and the duraplast container scrapped against the surface of the mover. The resulting scraping noise caused the Zabrak to wince. ?Oy! Don?t scratch the mover. Thing costs more than you get paid in a year!? It may or may not have been true but the Twi?lek had the box secured in quick fashion soon as he said it.

The two workers stood up and stretched their backs before looking at Argen with a look that told him they wanted a tip. Argen shook his head, ?Hey, you don?t get bonuses for scratching the paint job alright? Just be glad I don?t complain to yer boss about it or something.? The two rolled their eyes and walked away as Argen inspected their work.

?Damn sloppy.? He said as he pulled one of the restraints tighter to keep the boxes from moving. ?Damn things wold have busted open before I even hit lightspeed.? Checking the other restraints he found them all loose, once he fixed that he pushed the mover onto the lift that descended down from the belly of the Reaper. A button press later and the section of hull was back in place and sealed tighter than the vault on Cato Nemoidia.

Patting the hull with a hand he stepped onto the airlock lift, with a slight jar the lift raised up and a few moments later Argen was standing in what he called his ?foyer?, a small room that separated the cockpit from the main cabin. Pressing the keypad on one of the doors Argen stepped into the cockpit and took a seat.

?Alright,? he sat his drink in his chairs cup holder and rubbed his hands together as he spun the chair around. ?Lets get this party started.? Pulling a comlink head piece from the overhead compartment he carefully put it on, taking care to avoid his horns. Flipping a few switches he heard the soft hum of the ships ion drives starting their up-spin.

A few more switches later and the ships other systems were slowly starting to warm up. Pressing a hand to his ear he opened a comm-channel. ?Issagra Flight Control this is Silent Reaper, registry ASLI-875-993-AD requesting flight clearance. Over.?

After a moment the comm cackled with static, ?Silent Reaper this is Issagra Flight you are not a registered embarkation please file a flight plan and state your business and intention for the record. Over.?

Argen pulled the datapad the Hutt?s bodyguard had given him and placed it in a databus to his left and pressed the transmit button. ?Issagra Flight I am transmitting the scheduled flight plan, transport commission and cargo manifest to you now. Business and intentions are to transport cargo as listed from Issagra to Imperial Garrison on Naboo by way of courier. Over.?

There was a long pause as whoever was on the other side mulled over the data being sent. ?Silent Reaper,? the comm burst finally between short

 

OOC: Welp, I'm back folks! *cracks knuckles* Time to get this show on the road!




Geonosis Orbit
TL-1200 Transport Duraless

Click. Click. Click.

After the final slug had rested in place, Mij Noray spun the cylinder of his weapon, watching it wheel around in front of his eyes before, with a sudden jerk of his wrist, it snaps shut. Mentally, Mij started a count and upon getting to the number five, he popped the cylinder back open, pointed his weapon up, and allowed the slugs to drop back into the palm of his free hand. Pointing his weapon back down, he started the process of loading his weapon all over again.

Click. Click. Click. Click.

In the age of blasters and lasers, the slugthrower that Mij fussed over was long since considered as an obsolete weapon. However, it hadn't stopped the human from keeping it tucked in the holster at his side and using it when it was required. It was a revolver-type slugthrower, possessing a spinning cylinder usually able to carry six shots. This one, however, was different, possessing a five-round cylinder in order to carry some of the larger, heavier shells that Mij constantly loaded into his weapon. Other then blaster packs allowing more shots and not needing to be customized in order to fit the weapon, there was the simple fact that modern-day armor could deflect your standard slugs.

Mij grunted in amusement at the word standard as he loaded in the fifth slug. Again he twirled the cylinder and snapped it back in place. Pointing the weapon upwards, he again started his count to repeat the process. Three. Four. Fi-

"Captain, we have contact."

Glancing over at his sensor operator with his brown eyes, Mij spun the revolver on his finger before sliding it within the leather holster. Sliding a hand through his straight, black hair, the captain slowly made his one to one of the viewports, looking out into space from where his ship was currently situated in orbit over Geonosis.

"We finally get some muscle for this information."

"Unknown," spoke another voice, his Cerean communications and navigations officer. "Shall I open a channel?"

"Could be an Imperial ship," his sensor operator warned, turning her head towards Mij, the human's blue eyes wary. "Might be here to investigate."

"The disappearances?" questioned Mij, his hands folding behind his back. "Unlikely. You would think the Imperials would send a bigger ship then a Blastboat. More men considering the reports. Besides, I don't think the Imperials would respond this quickly to one of their Outer Rim worlds. Who would want to come to this dust ball anyway?"

"Hail them?" the Cerean questioned again.

Mij nodded. "Do it."

TAG: Ktala, greyjedi, Liam




Corellian Orbit
Shipyards, DP20 Frigate

The technician had been staring at the group with wide eyes, moving from who he could only perceive as a ruthless executioner to the woman that currently seemed to be the savior of his life. His knees were shaking, obviously not used to the kind of threats to his life that he was now experiencing. How could he? He was just an innocent technician, his job being to help in the construction of starships. The current DP20 wasn't even meant for Corellia; it was being built in order to satisfy the quota that was demanded by the Galactic Empire.

"I didn't see anything!" the technician immediately cried out, despite the fact that, other then the barrel of the blaster at his head, he had been staring right at his captors' faces. He was even looking at Aubrey right in the face upon the declaration. The slow realization came to him a second later and he immediately threw up his hands to cover his eyes. "I won't tell! I'm just doing my job! Don't kill me!"

His covered eyes didn't allow him to see the blaster being pulled away from his face and it was only when Aubrey spoke again with a threat that he allowed his eyes to peek through inbetween his fingers. Looking down at the blaster that was now pointed at his knee, he hardly put up any kind of fight as he im

 

OOC: Welcome back Sarge!! Hope ya had fun!

Lana Vangress - Striker
Aboard the Blue Mynok, In orbit - Geonosis


Striker caught a bit of a rest, as the rest of them did whatever during the trip to Genosis. She had her ship set, so that it would come out of hyperspace a few clicks away from Geonosis orbit, so she could have a chance to scan the area first. She didnt want to pop in on anyone suddenly. She didnt like surprises.

Soon, the ships controls began to beep, letting her know that they had reached their destination.

"Heads up, Geonosis coming into view." She called out, setting up in her seat. Daks leaped out, and headed for her quarters.

"Grim! Grab navi, and keep an eye out." she called out, as the ship blinked back into real space, the lines of light turning into tiny points of light once more. The dry world was a distance away, but they could see it. As they headed for the planet, Striker scanned the immediate area. Nothing looked out of place. That was a good thing. This planet gave her the creeps. No real reason why. Just did.

As they began their approach, the ships comlink crackled to life.

Striker swore.

"Dont tell me someone else got to this dump heap first!" she growled, as she began to look for a source of the signal. She finally spotted a TL-1200 Transport. Hmmmm. Didnt make her think Imperial. Another salvage runner?

Her comlink crackled to life once more. They were being hailed. Striker put on her goggles, and fixed something next to her throat. Then she flicked on her comlink switch. She hoped she wouldnt have their job nixed before it even started.

"TL Transport. Hail received. What can we do for you?" striker spoke, her voice much lower, like it was the first time Grim and Oakes had met her. Voice only, for now. Until she figure out what these folks wanted, and why they were parked in orbit.

She tried her best to 'fly casual' until she found out what these jocks wanted.



TAG: Sarge, greyjedi, Liam

 

OOC: hey guys sorry for the unexplained absence, army decided i needed to be elsewhere at increadibly short notice, looking forward to getting back into it and will post ASAP

 

IC: Culain Machael

Issagra Station

Culain was busy studying his navcomp, looking for a new destination after Issagra when he heard Liesl call out she couldnt be finished already yet when he tried the engines they burned into life, a small smile creased his face the force works in mysterious ways he thought with suprised joy. He left the cockpit and walked down the access ramp to the station, crossing the grease stained metal floor to where the suprisingly talented mechanic stood consulting a data chart. Errant gusts of wind caught at the tattered ends of his frayed robes as he made his way to her, he let another rare smile touch his lips as he bowed slightly. "I hadn't thought it possible but you are very talented, you have saved me valuable time...time i otherwise would not have" he said as he dug into a belt pouch, he pulled out the credits agreed on plus 100 extra "here is your fee, plus some extra, you more than earned it" he said pushing it into her hands. Looking around the workyard he said in a lower voice "it would be dangerous for you if people found out i had been here, keep it close to your chest", he turned to leave but stopped and looked over his shoulder "May the force be with you Leisl" he finished as he began to walk back to his ship.

TAG: Trieste

 

IC: Grim
Aboard the Blue Mynok, In orbit - Geonosis

The company and the cafa were both good, and Grim felt a sudden sense of camaraderie that he had not since....

He quickly cleared his throat to derail himself from going down that path in his memory, and seeing Striker close her eyes to rest only encouraged him to do something similar.

"Please excuse me..." he said with a respectful nod towards Oakes as he turned to go to his room. As he went, Grim let his hands graze several random items, almost absentmindedly. It was as if he was trying to make sure he wasn't dreaming. He chuckled lightly and mentally chided himself for being foolish. There was no reason why he should be weary of a good turn of events. Heck, it was about time something 'good' happened after all these years of aimless wandering and randomly attacking Imperial posts when the opportunity presented itself. Alone, he couldn't do any significant damage, which was a pity. Generally speaking, such stints were cathartic. But if he'd ever got caught, no one else would have to suffer for his actions but himself. Now, things were not so simple. He couldn't risk the lives of others in his secret war. He still wanted revenge...but this, this changed things.

Sparing only a glance, he passed the Captain's room before reaching his own. He punched in the combination Striker had given him, and was rewarded with a soft hiss as the door opened. Grim entered the small room and smiled at it briefly. It was sparsely furnished, clean and tidy. A lot more than what he felt he deserved, but was exceedingly grateful to have at the moment. It was a refreshing break from all the grime he's had to endure in all his years.

After securing the door behind him, he sat down on the floor in lotus position and placed his hands, palms up ( forefinger touching his thumb) over his knees, before closing his eyes and beginning a meditative breathing exercise. After a moment, his hidden weapon slowly emerged from its concealed place within his coat. The silver cylinder was fully functional, though it could use some polish. It hung before him, held aloft by an invisible force, before it began to spin lazily on a horizontal plain. After gathering some momentum, the spinning cylinder began to slowly float around him in a parabolic orbit. This time, the orbit was smaller than usual due to the size of his immediate surroundings.

Soon, Grim began to see images, but they seemed a bit fuzzy. His brow furrowed a little in response to his increase in concentration. In all honesty, Grim was reluctant to go too deep, for fear of images from his past, but this time, none seemed to be surfacing. He had a momentary flash of Striker's face, and felt himself smiling with her. There was also a large field he did not recognize,then another face appeared. It was Oakes. So, were they on Roon? He could not be certain. In this place, time seemed to hold no real sway. After a brief pause, another image tried to come into focus, but it was dark and foreboding. For a second, Grim thought it was an image from his past, but somehow it felt different, but no less menacing.

Before he could see anything else, a sense of shifting and transition came over him as he became suddenly aware of the Blue Mynok's exit from hyperspace and dropping into real space. Grim's eyes opened slowly as the cylinder fell gracefully into an open and waiting hand, before it disappeared once again somewhere inside the folds of his trench coat. Getting up in one smooth motion, Grim exited his room and made his way back to the front of the ship.

He came into the cockpit area just in time.

"Heads up, Geonosis coming into view." Striker called out, sitting up in her seat. Daks leaped out, and headed for her quarters.

"Grim! Grab navi, and keep an eye out." Striker commanded.

"On it, Captain." was his response, as he was almost seated himself. A quick check revealed that they were right on course.

On the viewport, the dry world was a distance away, but they could see it. A red-orang