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  1. In Memory of LAJ_FETT: Please share your remembrances and condolences HERE

SWRPF Archive Armored Fury: Collision Course

Discussion in 'Star Wars Role Playing Archive' started by PTMurphy84, Aug 31, 2008.

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  1. Sith-I-5

    Sith-I-5 Force Ghost star 6

    Registered:
    Aug 14, 2002
    IC: Lieutenant Simone Stormwind, Agent Devon Robie ?4-T-A?, Templar battlemech and battlefield.
    Location: Hoth

    The instant that her finger tightened on the trigger of her laser pistol, Stormwind knew what she had to do to save her Templar, and turning her face away from the blasted canopy, shoved her left arm through her webbing restraints, all the way up to her bicep, clenched her fist and smashed it down on the fat red ejection button set into her left armrest!

    Explosive bolts flipped the booby-trapped canopy away into the snow, and a rocket thruster under her seat launched it and her up out of the mech and into the frigid air, the seat spiralling out-of-control under a triple set of emergency chutes, while she hung on as long as she could with the one arm, eventually plummeting free into the snow beside her mech.

    Unseen, the abandoned canopy was immediately engulfed in an instant dome of intense white light with a three metre diameter, then a few seconds later, the thermal detonator?s baradium shields dissipated, leaving a smooth crater in the rock.

    * * * *

    Devon had seen the doll-like silhouette spiralling out of the sky on with the ejection seat, but it was the actions of the Imperial dark trooper, that convinced him that the girl was ?friendly?.

    Airborne on the power of his thruster pack, the distant Imperial was determined to finish the mercenary girl off, sniping the ground around her. Clearly, the flying didn?t lend itself to personal accuracy.

    The rodian rolled the Plex off his shoulder and stood, pushing back his hood to bring all his senses to bear, drew his DL-44 blaster and aimed it in a double-handed grip at the floating Imp.
    With a pack of AT-AT?s still bearing down on the Alliance base, and snowspeeders being punched out of the air, this lone jet-trooper was small potatoes, but right now, he had Devon?s full attention.

    Locking in with not just his goggled eyes, but the sensor nodes atop his green scalp, Devon pulled the trigger once, the crimson energy bolt smacking the target's helmet to one side.
    The figure dropped to the ground like a marionette with its? strings maliciously snipped!

    Devon plunged through the snow, boots sinking ankle deep with each step, puffing hard as he headed for the girl.
    Dropping to his knees beside her, he did the chivalrous thing without thinking, snapping open the catches on his heavy parka and shoving the already frozen woman inside, guiding her coverall-clad arms inside the thick sleeves, and sealing it around her much more petite form. He drew the fur-lined hood over her head, and used the drawstring to draw it tight under her chin.

    By this point, the cold was starting to get to him too, and he knew that dressed as he now was, he would never make it back to the laser tower, let alone Echo Base.
    Towing Simone by an oversized sleeve, he started to trudge towards the fallen dark trooper, intending to commandeer the other?s outfit, and especially his thruster pack.

    ?Disengage. Disengage. Begin retreat action.?

    The general recall code blurted from the frost-covered comlink on what was now her sleeve, making him wonder for the briefest moment, what he had done with the heavy communicator he had used earlier.

    Devon hugged himself in an attempt to preserve his own body heat as he wondered how the frag he was going to get out of this.

    ?Echo Base to Echo Station 4-T-A.?

    Such was the debilitating cold that the message had to be repeated before he realised they were talking to him.

    ?Ec-ec-echo Station 4,4,4-T-A, c-copy.? He chattered, dropping to his knees beside the dead Imperial, and tried to use suckered fingers that didn?t want to cooperate to separate the corpse from the thruster pack.

    ?Echo Base to Echo Station 4-T-A. We?re pulling out, double time it back to base. Also a question, is your ship able to extend its bubble to a large degree? We may have special duty for your ship.?
     
  2. Supernova_I

    Supernova_I Jedi Youngling star 1

    Registered:
    Sep 7, 2008
    IC: Lt. Belor Ardit
    GR-75 transport, Hoth

    Finally, thought Belor as he sat down in the transport. It certaintly took them long enough... After checking that he still had all his weapons, he took out some food and began eating. After he finished, he settled back, trying to get some sleep

    TAG: Any

    OOC: EDIT: Great, 2 pages
     
  3. Sith-I-5

    Sith-I-5 Force Ghost star 6

    Registered:
    Aug 14, 2002
    OOC: I have a post in the works.
     
  4. Sith-I-5

    Sith-I-5 Force Ghost star 6

    Registered:
    Aug 14, 2002
    IC: Agent Devon Robie, Captain Solo(npc), onboard the Fluffy.
    Location: main hangar, Echo Base

    Devon allowed the heat to build up in the cramped barrel of the airlock, until he had stopped shaking, letting the rising heat seep through his green skin and start to warm his bones.
    His shirt steamed as ice melted then evaporated off him.
    He could start to flex, clench and unclench his fingers.

    Then, unexpectedly, he heard a chime to indicate that the interior door, the hatch with his back was resting on, was ready to open, and a draft of cold ? shipboard cold, not Hoth tundra cold ? hit his lower vertebrae as the circle of metal retracted.

    Devon tried to slow his fall, the suckers on the end of his digits sliding down the airlock interior, but ultimately, he slapped to the floor in a heap at somebody?s booted feet, his own legs up the wall.

    Groaning, the rodian found himself looking up into the smug expression of the unfriendly ?Captain Solo?, from the command centre.
    ?We thought you had run out on us.? Solo explained, looking down at him.

    Devon could feel reverberations through the deck plating like there a herd of nexu running through his ship.
    He glanced away from Solo, and saw bottom-up views of several khaki-clad technicians trotting back and forth through his ship.

    ?What?s going on?? He asked, struggling to right himself, and extricate himself from the Imperial jet pack.

    ?Need a hand??

    Devon was surprised to see the human putting a hand down to help him up, and the rodian grabbed it gratefully. ?That?d be handy; thanks.?

    Solo groaned theatrically as he pulled the lighter rodian up into a sitting position.

    ?Sorry, that just came out. So what is going on, Solo?? He didn't bother with the other's title now that he shared it.

    ?We have updated your ship?s weapons; replacing those old Norvaldex quad lasers with Golan Arms quad turbolasers. You are running with the big boys now; Command wanted you armed to cope, and thought I'd be able to oversee; I?ve done some modifications on the ?Falcon myself, you see.?

    ?Yeah I know; I heard the sirens.? Walking down the main corridor, Devon leaned into his cabin to shuck his shirt and grab the cream-coloured duvet off the bunk, sweeping it round his shoulders like a padded poncho.
    He continued to head for the cockpit, which unlike the enclosed pod on the side of Solo?s freighter, was an open plan area finished in black metal, that the main corridor opened into.
    Basically, before a wide and panoramic forward port, a central console in the middle of the deck,was the pilot?s console, lining the walls, two sets of chairs on each side served the quad-laser gunnery positions, and observers.

    Right now, Devon?s pilot?s console was an oasis of calm while techs clambered over the gunnery stations, passing control cables and power feeds down from gaps in the ceiling and bulkhead above.
    He looked back at Solo. ?Would have been nice if Command had asked first?, or was that what they were calling me about??

    Solo laughed. ?Nah, we started this the moment your scaly ass was out the door. They wanted to know if your ship could extend its bubble around another craft.?

    The SGIS agent wasn?t overly upset at the weapons upgrade, though he would have to see what draw they had on the primary power generator once he had to shoot them.
    He didn?t ask what craft, assuming they wanted him to protect one of those Gallofree Yards? GF-75 transport ships he had noticed earlier, with the chipped clamshell hulls.
    Typical cut-price, Rebel gear.
    ?So which bubble are they talking, shields or the cloaking device??

    Solo shrugged, ?Didn?t say; the shields, I guess. Hey, here?s a crazy idea, why don?t you ask them.?

    The rodian tolerated the other captain?s sarcasm. ?
     
  5. Supernova_I

    Supernova_I Jedi Youngling star 1

    Registered:
    Sep 7, 2008
    OOC: Anyone here?
     
  6. Sith-I-5

    Sith-I-5 Force Ghost star 6

    Registered:
    Aug 14, 2002
    Yep! And I PMed the GM two days ago to alert him that he had been tagged. He is still active on the boards...just not here. [face_plain]

    Anyway, how are you, Supernova? *High fives*
     
  7. Supernova_I

    Supernova_I Jedi Youngling star 1

    Registered:
    Sep 7, 2008
    I'm super, thanks for asking (guess where that's from):D .
     
  8. Sith-I-5

    Sith-I-5 Force Ghost star 6

    Registered:
    Aug 14, 2002
    And the winner, in the category for 'I Can't Believe I Remembered That ****!' goes to South Park.

    Don't ask me the character though.
     
  9. Supernova_I

    Supernova_I Jedi Youngling star 1

    Registered:
    Sep 7, 2008
    Yeah, it's South Park. Big Gay Al said it. Or sang it, more precisely.
     
  10. Sith-I-5

    Sith-I-5 Force Ghost star 6

    Registered:
    Aug 14, 2002
    IC: Transport Pilot, GF-75 transport, main hangar.
    Location: Hoth

    The pilot stood at the top of the ramp for his transport, all his senses being assaulted at once.
    The hangar was a riot of colour, orange clad pilots sliding down the sides of returned snowspeeders and running out the exit to fighters parked on the South Slope; infantry in earthy colors were doing there thing, a good number running up past him into his transport; yellow loadlifters were picking up the abandoned T-47s and slotting them into the cargo pods under the transport?s hull.

    He counted fifty troops, then shut the outer hatch, heading inside and walked forwards along the centre aisle, chatting to troopers, and slapped Lt. Belor Ardit on the shoulder.

    ?We?ll be taking off soon, Lieutenant. Command Centre is just assigning our X-Wing escorts, and I believe the ion cannon is charging to clear a path for us.?

    He paused before heading to the cockpit, in case the officer wanted to respond.

    Tag: Supernova
     
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