Star Wars Intervention: Echoes in Eternity (An Original Trilogy Game; Always taking new players!!!)

IC: Hutt Caravel, Engineering Room
Location: sub-orbit over Craci Prime

Not much new happened for Sunri.

Off the four remaining buttons with their golden Sharu script, Button 3's script turned into pulsing dark red Basic, reading Spaceport Uninhabitable.

Sunri could now try his luck with Buttons 4, 5, and 6.

Tag: Skywalker_T-65

---

Imperial Garrison - fortified ante-hall to medical facility
Location: Craci Prime

There was a square white-walled room on the other side of the main entrance to the medical bay, same width as the med-bay, though obviously not as packed.

A shielded E-web heavy repeating blaster tripod faced away from the sealed entrance to the opening where any intruders or attackers would come.

A second E-web tripod blaster was in front of it, close enough to the rectangular opening for its shield, powered via a nearby cuboid Eksoan power generator, to seal the entrance against any hostiles in the corridors outside, and it would remain powered until the 'all clear' signal was received.

There were a dozen troopers of various types around the room, prepared to lay down their lives to prevent any incursions to this last defense point, while listening intently to communications from other parts of the garrison as stormtroopers sought to clear out the final remnants of the "for the Colonel" terrorists.

Tag: greyjedi125, Mitth_Fisto, Bravo

 

IC: Natalie Cunnings
Imperial Governor's Palace / Garrison Base, Craci Prime, Craci System


Nodding with a small shrug the four eyed mask blinked before looking at the nurse. "Sorry to cut this short, but if you cannot pull yourself together you will have to be our prisoner. Although if you don't mind." he finished as he held up the treatment container with the kolto and tubing as his other hand exposed the charred armor.

Natalie stared at the alien for a long moment in silent rage. She wanted to hurt him, injure him with so much pain and grief that he---

She didn't know why she wanted to hurt him. Maybe he was the outlet for her emotions, for the innocent man that she had just killed to save their skin. If these new Mercs with Winterkill had done a better job, this wouldn't of happened. None of this would of happened. She wouldn't have had to sacrifice a innocent man's life---now forever remembered and framed as a man who tried to kill innocents in a medical bay---to save their skin.

She looked over at the dead body, grabbed her blaster pistol from the floor, and holstered the blaster as she stood up, staring the man down, "I'll pull myself together," she said with bold determination as she grabbed the offered medical supplies and started to fix the alien up, "But don't expect me to forgive you for this. This alien died for your mistake in getting caught here," she finished the short medical procedure, "I just hope his death meant something more then us dying outside those doors for nothing."


TAG Mitth_Fisto, greyjedi125

 

IC: Havah Jeth & Tiaca
Medbay, Governor's Palace / Imperial Garrison, Craci Prime, Craci System

Looking at Winterkill and Tiaca Havah nodded. All was well then. Albeit the response of Nurse Cunnings was somewhat unexpected, she seemed to be lashing out. It was something he supposed was something he shouldn't be surprised by, she may be a murderer, but as a nurse she was trained to save without taking. Now she had taken without saving, a moral coping of passing blame and responsibility should be expected, after all. . .she was only human, and as such could not be held to Arkaniaan standards.

"If you could. Nurse Cunnings. We will leave afterwards." he simply restated to her outburst as he held out the medical supplies. She probably would see a small peak of his white skin, but if it went well she might realize who he was. As for laying things out, this was not the place or time to have a tribunal of fault. Looking at Winterkill he began signaling for him to 'Put on the helmet and remember to listen in on the enemy. Use resources. And prep for blasting out.'

"Body guard. Prepare for us to go turn ourselves in for this accident. People stay where you are and keep calm, we will turn our selves in in a moment." Actually they were about to repeat the process. . .and he was still sober. Sometimes there were just days like this.

TAG: Bravo, greyjedi125, Sith-I-5, Intervention

 

OOG: Setting up the last bits of storylinbe pieces as we prepare to close up the Craci Prime storyline...yes, Echoes storyline is bigger then just Craci Prime!


IC: Captain Jason Lasso
Underground Tunnels, Near the CSA Governmental Complex, Craci Prime




"Cozy," Lasso said as what remained of the group walked into the place, "So this is your 'safe house'?" The captain raised an eye-brow.

"Old train section," replied Airen Cracken, "Ends, or at least part of it does, at these old tunnels. I wouldn't be surprised if it is all but forgotten."

One of the Rebel soldiers closed the door behind everyone and remained at the door as a sentry.

Lasso sniffed the air, "Smells old, too," the mercenary captain found a place to sit down and take a load off as it were and said, "Okay, General, the floor is yours."

Cracken looked over to Comms, who gave the general a nod as she leaned up against one of the walls. It was her way, Lasso assumed, of giving the General "approval". Here and there, Mercs and Rebels attended to their own business, some talking in hushed voices while others looked over their equipment. Lasso, Cracken, Skywalker, and Comms seemed to be the only ones involved in this business meeting, but Lasso was sure others were listening.

"Your nurse, she asked about the Greater Javin," Cracken started; Jason nodded as his blaster rifle lay across his thighs, "Taller's assassin was set up by Mon Mothma."

Jason wanted to punch the man and punch him hard, but the one thing leadership had taught the Corellian mercenary captain, it was having the "poker face" and being patient to hear all the facts, however gut wrenching they were, before you started shooting.

Cracken continued, "It was a swap for say. The Empire had captured a few of our spies, we had captured a few of theirs. It was a prisoner exchange. But the person conducting the exchange wanted something more and had something that could hurt the Rebellion, in fact, possibly end it."

"Hilick Soal," Lasso responded.

Cracken nodded, "Correct. Under the disguise of the Imperial Security Bureau, Soal conducted the formal exchange. Normally a function for Imperial Intelligence, but it was 'that something more' that kept us listening. Soal gave us information that the Imperial Navy was getting very close to discovering our Dankayo Base and our base on Refnar already had an Imperial Task Force headed towards it. He said that he had people in the Imperial Fleet that he could persuade to delay in finding our Dankayo base."

"And Taller and the Mercs were the ticket to that information?" Lasso said.

Cracken nodded, "Yes. Mon wasn't there in person, a course, but I was. Soal and I met, alone, with no guards or assistants. I had Mon with me, for say, via a hand-held Imagecaster that I had our tech boys modify with a link to the HoloNet and a built-in scrambler that prevented any trace of the holograpic Mon Mothma."

"But why the betrayal? Operation Intervention? Was Taller right all along when Mon Mothma abandoned him and his unit to an Imperial counter-attack against Taller's forces helping Mon Mothma kill Palpatine right after Order 66? Should we of never trusted the Rebels?"

"We could afford to loose Refnar. But Dankayo, that base was the logistical hub for three sectors of operation."

"So your logistical hub was more important then loyalty?" Jason fired back, visibly upset now.

"We're talking hundreds of lives here!" Cracken pleaded.

"That's right," Jason said louder as he stood up, "We're just mercenaries! We're expendable!"

"There's no need for this," Luke Skywalker interjected, "Look, we're not telling you this so we can start an argument with you guys."

"It's a little too late for that farm boy," Lasso said, "Blaster bolts are about to go flying here real soon!"

"Listen to Skywalker!" Cracken pleaded, "We're telling you this because Mon Mothma sold you out to the Empire because she knew you could make it, could get out of there alive! No one else could do that, but the Mercs! We had to play the Empire's hands, because we knew you could make it out alive!"

"And the KOJ's Authority paid the price for a under the table deal between the Alliance and the Empire!" Jason argued in response.

"This is war!" Cracken replied, "It was hundreds of lives and the information of countless other Rebel bases and safe houses and Rebel assets in three sectors---all stored on Dankayo---verses the lives of a few mercenaries!"

"We trusted you!" Lasso said.

"Someone had to die!" Cracken shot back, "And I wasn't about to sacrifice all of those lives for a few unproven, two-bit mercenaries that Mon Mothma was foolish enough to believe in! We have a war to win, not some idealistic dream la---"

Cracken found himself sprawled out on the floor after the butt of Lasso's rifle came across his jaw. Jason very quickly had Comms' blaster rifle pressed up against the side of his head and Skywalker's humming lightsaber blade several inches from his face.

"Do it kid," Lasso said to Skywalker as he dropped his blaster rifle to the ground, "Drive that lightsaber into my face. Do it! And then you'll realize what the true cost of war is. It's not some idealistic dream land of bad guys verses good guys like the good general said. War is about these moments, when the sides are blurry, the lines are blurry, and the only loyalty one has isn't their flag or their government, but to each other. So go ahead, Skywalker, kill me. But mark my words, once you do, the Rebel Alliance will loose this war. Any moral footing it had against the Empire will now be gone and the Alliance will be no better then the Empire whom they are fighting."

Cracken rubbed his jaw, standing up; everyone was pointing another weapon at someone else. Unlike last time, all of the Rebels were on one side and the Mercs all on the other, "I told you Captain Lasso that Taller knew more then you think. Rick Taller knew Mon Mothma would 'betray' him because it was the only way to make the Empire believe that the Rebel Alliance and the Mercs were no longer working together! We had to take a gamble, take a leap of faith, that the ploy would work. And it did!"

"At the lives of the Authority. With honor, they defended us, believing we were their people's prophecy come true. And in the end, they died for that belief, but all along they really died for some sick game between the Rebel Alliance and the Galactic Empire. I guess it was just good business, right?"

Lasso looked between Cracken and Skywalker, "You can rest assure, when I find Taller, I'll give him a piece of my mind too. Until then, its all about business, right? Well, I reckon it'll be good business then that we avoid each other completely. I don't care about any deal you and Taller had or any business venture you want us on. We're Mercs, not puppets. Maybe Taller sold out to galactic politics...but I, and the people serving the Mercs now, haven't."

"General," Comms suddenly said as she inclined her head towards the ear comm bud in her ear, "We have a problem."

Cracken's face grew tight, "What problem?"

Comms looked puzzled, "Someone is singing Surfin' USA into my comlink."

"Singing?" Cracken repeated.

"Yes, General. And," Comms looked at a data-pad on a wrist strap on her forearm, "Sir, its not a communications code from Alliance Command. Someone has hacked our communications encryption for this operation."

"It would take the Empire days to figure out the encryption code and by then, we'd be long gone! Who in the galaxy could hack us so quickly?!" Cracken complained.

"Me," Commander Chris Streets said as he finished up a few last words to his song as he walked out from the darkness further down from the tunnels; a black commando stealth suit hung tight to his body, as black paint crossed his blue Chiss face; his red eyes shown like daggers of death to all he surveyed. A sniper rifle lay in his grip, while two blaster pistols hung to either outside thigh, and an equipment belt was around his waist with a small black field backpack on his back and a comlink bud with small black wire going from his right ear to disappearing under his clothing; two tactical fingerless black gloves covered his hands.

"Your late," Lasso said.

"Traffic," Streets replied.

"And who the hell are you?" Cracken said.

"I've been the most wanted man by three governments in the last twenty-one years and one very upset Jedi assassin known as "He,"" Streets replied, "I am wanted by the Chiss Ascendancy for faking my death on a deep undercover mission and hence treason against the Ascendancy and joined Rick Taller's non-clone brigade during the Clone Wars to fight for the Republic. I am wanted by the Galactic Empire and in particular Emperor Palpatine personally for the secrets I hold from the mission the Chiss Ascendancy sent me on over twenty years ago during the Clone Wars."

"You said three governments," Cracken said.

"And I'm wanted by the Rebel Alliance," Streets said as suddenly darts flew out of the darkness behind him and impaled themselves into the necks of the Rebel special operation's soldiers, the lot of them dropping dead by a fast-acting toxin, and only left Cracken and Skywalker standing from the Rebels, "For the death of the SAPT members protecting both General Aiern Cracken and Hero of Yavin, Luke Skywalker."

Skywalker had been distracted, which would of be been expected of the young kid. So Lasso had taken advantage of it and the kid's eyes grew big with fear as he turned his head back around to see Lasso's S-5 Heavy Blaster Pistol pointed at him, "Drop it hero. No need to die today," Jason said; the young farm boy turned war hero deactivated the lightsaber and dropped it on the floor, "General Cracken, your weapon?" Jason asked; the General drew his pistol and dropped it on the ground.

"You just killed honorable men and women of the Rebellion!" Cracken protested to Streets.

Streets shrugged, "Honorable is a point of view, General. After all, we're just mercenaries---expendable for the greater good of hundreds more Rebels---right?"



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


A few minutes later, outside the "safe room" and back in the tunnels



"Do I even want to know?" Lasso asked as Atin followed the group out, closing the door behind him on Cracken and Skyalker who were gagged and chained to one of the poles.

"Probably not," Streets said matter-of-factly as all the Mercs had seemed to resupply, reload, and some even reequip with the Rebels' equipment and weapons and were doing last minute adjustments outside in the tunnel now, "Galactic politics, especially dealing with trading of spies, can get messy. Although Taller had a good guess Mon Mothma would betray us, he never knew it would be in the Greater Javin. You can trust me on that one."

"Any reason to trust the Rebels again? That's twice now we've been betrayed."

"You never listened to Cracken's business proposal," Streets said as he finished putting away his data-pad, "But I don't know if I would of even accepted it."

The group collectively started walking towards the CSA Complex again, "Dak and the meeting?" Lasso asked.

"Oh yea, Dak knew this meeting would happen. Like several days before it happened. Taller contacted the droid to let 'em know."

"So Taller really ain't retired, is he?" Jason asked jokingly.

"He's working part-time," Chris joked back, adding, "In any event, Cracken and the Rebels wanted to strike a deal with the Mercs. There's something going on in the Unknown Regions. And it has everyone in the Intelligence communities jumpy, both Imperial and Rebel alike. Point being, remember Rusty "Two Thumbs" McWilliams?"

"The droid?" Lasso said, "How couldn't I forget, he tried to kill me over that blasted briefcase over Bespin."

"Right," Streets said, adding, "Dak?"

"Captain, Ler gave me that old arrest book after Port Haven. I ended up doing some research on it. And I found something."

"I don't like it when someone ends a conversation with, I found something, but doesn't finish it," Lasso commented.

"That book, Captain, is why the Rebels wanted our help," Streets clarified.

"Then how in blue blazes did Taller get involved?" Jason blurted, "He wasn't even with us at Bespin!"

"Because Taller knows a little something about that book. And so do I," Streets finished.

"I'm only looking at that book on two conditions," Lasso replied, "First, no entanglement into galactic politics."

"And second?" Dak asked.

"We get paid by Mr. Vortex and I get some pizza. I'm hungry."

"We have a million day payday and you want pizza?" Streets asked.

"I'm a man of simple pleasures," Lasso replied, then jumped on his wrist comm, "Safety, status report?"


TAG Tunnel Group

 

IC: Sunri Lasca
Hutt Caravel, Engine Room

Well, that did a whole lot of nothing, Sunri thought, not noticing any change in the Caravel after he pressed the most recent button.

Then again, at least he hadn't blown himself up, so at least that was something. But it still wasn't a particularly good thing either. He had plenty of air, presuming a piece of debris didn't puncture the hull, but the Mando didn't. And while he was annoyed with Taab for the kick down the hatch, he didn't want to be the one responsible for the man's death either. Not to mention Masha was still locked in, and Force only knew what was going on up there.

Turning back to the console, Sunri pondered his options. He had already pressed three buttons. One had restored power, one apparently fired the weapons, and one seemed to do nothing. That left three buttons left, tentatively labeled 4, 5, and 6. Now the question became, which of those would get the engines going?

Sighing again, Sunri pressed what he had mentally decided was button five.

Now to hope that's the engines...and that we don't go shooting off in some random direction.

TAG: Sith-I-5

 

IC: Hangar Security Deb Dullflush, Dep S hangar, etc.
Location: Orbit over Craci Prime


Deb thought she was ready, but the missile that shot up from the arriving salon pod caught her by surprise, firing up to wards the ceiling then veering sharply toards the other recessed walkway.

They were not amatuers, and had not bolted vulnerable catwalks to the hangar walls that could be brought down easily, but the missile still did it's work, blowing a sizable hole into the walkway and the lower part of the wall.

She could see chunks of one guard, and another thrown flat by the blast, adding himself to the others that were already laying still from whatever had befallen the ship earlier.

The alarm blared in response to the explosion.

Deb ran as best she could to the three glased hatches set into the wall of her walkway. The small square one, behind which was an alarm button, was not needed now.

The second, for a fire-vibroaxe, wasn't what she wanted either.

She wanted the taller cabinet, for the shoulder-launched ion cannon.

They had ways to deal with armed threats.

A series of four loud clicks sounded from the back of the bay. One each on the two walkways, and two, on either side of the bay at "ground" level.

Hatches slid aside and droideka wheeled out, the ones on ground level stopping just outside their storage areas, to aim their twin blasters down the side towards the front of the bay, extending their blue-tinged shield spheres.

The ones on the walkway, accelerated towards the front of the bay, to catch whatever the threat was, in a crossfire. Or at least, that was the plan.

The one on Deb's walkway blurred up to and past her, forcing her to hug the wall as it sped past her, its passage finishing off her unconscious colleagues laying across its path.

On the other, damaged walkway, the fourth droideka clattered noisily through the hole blasted by Taab, down into whatever was on the other side of that wall, the muffled sound of a dropped plate clattering to silence through the bulkhead.

* * * *
Bridge

Captain MacFarland, despite not being roused by the earlier alarms, responded to this one, blinking awake on the deck of the command room, painfully pulling himself up the side of one of the fixed chairs.

That two tone alert was related to the hangar deck! What was happening down there?

Tag: Heavy Isotope, Bardan_Jusik

 

IC: Atin Taab
Underground Tunnels, Near the CSA Governmental Complex, Craci Prime

Atin took point as instructed, along with one of the rebels and the blind man. He still wasn't sure just all what was going on, but in the presence of orders from his commanding officer understanding wasn't required. Oh he was sure buir (father) would have a clue, and also an opinion of current circumstances, but he wasn't here right now. That thought bother the young Mandalorian immensely, he still had no idea where his buir could be, but he did his best to push it from his mind. He had a mission to run.

The rag tag group moved out into the darkened tunnels and Atin switched on the night vision systems of his HUD. It dawned on him rather suddenly why the Captain had put him out front, with his buy'ce he could see in the dark and could warn those that followed about potential dangers to their footing as well as other dangers, like traps or IEDs (improvised explosive devices) along their route. Behind him he could hear that a conversation was going on, but he ignored it. He could have amplified the audio gain on his bucket to overhear what was going on, and to be honest it was probably something his father would do, but spying on the Skipper didn't seem right. If it was something that Atin had to know, than Lasso or one of the others would let him in on it. he did however take care to use the 360 degree view afforded by his bucket's sensors to look back and check in on the Skipper every dozen or so meters. Just because Atin was on point didn't mean he could be lax in his protection of the captain.

Of course part of what he was looking back at was also the Rebels who were accompanying them. From what he understood there were a sizable number of fairly senior officers here. Atin's mind once again wandered to what his father would do. These people all had considerable bounties on their heads, bringing them in to the Empire would bring any bounty hunter a substantial reward, as well as
notoriety. He knew his father would be deeply tempted by that, especially as it seemed there was some sort of bad blood between the Captain and the Rebels. Atin paused, looking over a piece of loose masonry before determining that it was natural wear and tear and nothing sinister. Still even with that bad blood Atin gave no thought to capturing and turning these Rebels over. They were the good guys, the ones fighting for justice in a galaxy gone mad. For not the first time Atin considered if he would join up with the Rebels when his training was done....

A bright flash behind him caught his attention and almost had Atin diving for cover before he realized what it was. The Elf had illuminated the way ahead of them. Naturally. Atin switched his NV gear to standby and used the light provided as he continued leading on the way...

---

Not long thereafter they arrived at their destination. "Cozy," came from the Skipper "So this is your 'safe house'?" The rebel called Cracken explained further as Atin listened on, mentally making a count of everyone as they settled into the safe house. Things had gotten squirrelly before, and Atin knew that the situation could rapidly deteriorate again. He kept one hand very near his Westar-35 in its holster as the discussion continued. As he listened in, a frown began to form on his face, unseen behind his faceplate. These rebels seemed no different than the Empire he had grown to hate. There was no sense of justice from them, no sense of honor. They just wanted victory, and it didn't seem as if they cared about anyone who got in the way of their goal.

Atin was crestfallen, his buir had warned him of all this before. He had told him to not believe the propaganda, to see with his own T-Visor what happened around him and make up his own mind. It was now that Atin truly understood what that meant, and that all he could really fight for was his own vode (brother/sisters), the men and women who fought beside him. Just as that thought crossed his mind things once again turned. Atin drew his blaster and pointed it at Comms, the one with the blaster rifle pointed at the Skipper's head. He also quickly raised his other arm, the one with the flame projector primed and ready, towards Skywalker. The rebel hero seemed not too much older than himself, but he held his lightsaber, alive and humming, only centimeters from the Skipper. His fancy weapon might be able to block a blaster bolt, at least according to stories his buir had told him, but it would have a tougher time with a jet of flame.

Still Atin dare not fire. He had no order to yet, and the Skipper seemed content to hold for now, and that was when Streets arrived.

---

"Do I even want to know?" Atin ignored the question that was directed at Streets. Instead he closed the door behind them, giving Skywalker and Cracken one final once over. Satsified that they were secure for now, he hefted his newly acquired A-280 adjusting the sling for the 3rd time already. It was a good rifle, though a tad long. His father he knew preferred carbines, and Atin normally toted a verpine shattergun when times called for a long gun. But he had embarked without such on this op. Now that oversight had been rectified and he had added yet another weapon to his arsenal. Holdng the rifle at the low ready he once again took point as the group moved off, back in the direction of the CSA Complex.

"Safety, status report?" Atin desperately hoped that report contained some news of his father.

TAG: Tunnel rats.

 

IC: Commander Yavscout, Tech Herferd (B.A.), Nurse Ulrike, sewer tunnels
Location: Under Craci Prime


The Mercs walked along in silence, punctuated by bursts of quiet conversation as thoughts or ideas occurred.

The circular crumbling brickwork of the sewers gave way to cleaner, angular, corridors painted in Espo brown, not as much debris over the ground.

Yav was increasingly unconvinced that this met the criteria of the standard holo spy thriller action movie, in the sense that the CSA didn't know about them.

His eyebrows furrowed and he glanced back at Herdford the tech. "So, B.A., you were using your computer to monitor things from the table upstairs."

"Y-yes, I kn-know, I was there." Herdford showed a bit of bite in his stammered response.

"So I'm thinking-"

"Th-this should be good."

Yav turned to face the tech, and was walking backwards as he formulated his thoughts "You would not have to physically be inside the CSA complex to slice into their systems."

"No, I suppose not. Though if we want anything more than local classified info, we'd probably have to physically be on Orron III for the data centres there." The Toong stopped in his tracks, his datapad slipping from his hand to crack onto the ferrocrete at his feet. "Oh s-stang, be-behind you."

"What?"

Yav's heel hit something soft, unbalancing him into a pile of...he looked about himself as he tried to push himself, regain his balance, the familiar feeling of flesh beneath him!

"Ee-ah!" The elf shot up and danced away, his back hitting thr wall to the right of the Toong, the both of them staring at the...the...pile of bodies. "Sweet feth, what the frag is this?"

No life bars. Definitely deceased.

Gradually recovering from the shock, Yavscout started to take in details. Males, mostly caucasian, not a heck of a lot of clothes, in fact, brown singlets and undershorts.

He moved closer, dropping to one knee, and gingerly stretching a hand towards a chain and dig-tags that he could see around the neck of one of the victims.

"Blaster shots to the head, it looks like." Herdford offered, still unmoved.

Yav concurred silently. Blaster wounds to heads, and throats cut. Kill methods that avoided the armour.

Professional, stealth hits.

The elf got a couple of fingers under a neck chain and pulled on it sharply, tugging it free to where he could examine the laminated photo and ID chip, which he held against his wristlink, pressing a sequence of buttons.

A floating yellow holograph sprang into life above the wristlink, showing the abbreviated file held within the data chip.

"Tike Stanton. Corporal. Security Police. Number 5502313. Frag." Yav dropped the dog-tag, and looked up, spying a large circular shaft in the ceiling, that he had not noticed before.
At the top, holes of the sort you would get in manhole covers, let in angled shafts of light.

Clearly these poor bodies (DBs) had been dropped carelessly down here to get them out of the way.

Yavscout drew his E-11 and aimed it up the shaft, more as a precaution than for any other reason. He had an idea that the shaft opened up into the grounds of the complex. They would have to continue further down the tunnel to get under one of the buildings.

Herdferd emitted a screech of fright as Lasso's voice came out of the wristlink:
"Safety, status report?"

Yav rose, sidled out of sight of anyone who could potentially see down the shaft, holstered the carbine and extinguished the Espo's ID profile.

"Quagmire, Safety. We have Icecapades, I repeat, we have Icecapades." He could see Herdford waving at him, and cupped a hand over the wrist device. "Yes?"

"Is-is he g-going to know what you m-mean?"

Yavscout considered. "Probably not." He returned to the comlink. "Boss? We're still in the tunnels, and I think we're inside the compound, but not yet under any buildings. There are fresh bodies, twenty to thirty, just dumped into the tunnels, and at least one has Espo dog-tags. It is my belief that Imp' spec-ops have control of the facility. Over."

* * * *
Alliance safe room

Ulrike had had designs on cracking Comms across the jaw when things had calmed down, but she was still shocked at her sudden death along with the rest of the Asset Protection team.

She didn't know if the Captain had expected this, though if he did, she could see why he had sent the elf on separately.

Mercs didn't really go for that "Uncle Yav" guano, but they all had their idiosyncracies to be overlooked in order to be able to work together.

The Commander probably would not have taken Rookie's murder with the same business-as-usual attitude as everyone here.

She wouldn't have minded taking Comms' stealth suit, but she wasn't stealing the clothing from a corpse, no matter how recent, so that left Skywalker and Cracken.

"Skywalker, you are more my size, but as you had no knowledge of the hit on our captain, I will leave you alone."

She turned her attention to the seated General, the officer kicking at her as she knelt next to him, and pressed a sedative pressor to the man's neck, cradling his head and lowering him to the dirt-covered floor. "There, there, sleep now."

A few moments later, pulling and tugging on parts of the dark blue Mimetic Suit to make it more comfortable, Ulrike checked the shadows from where Chris Streets had emerged, to see what had fired those darts, and upon not finding anything, shrugged and followed Atin through the doors back into the corridor.

Tag: Bravo, Bardan_Jusik, greyjedi125, Vehn, Master Selkath

 

IC: Mahaben
Into the Tunnels, Craci Prime

Slowly, but certainly, the blind miraluka realized one thing. He was having a hard time believing the things Sodalis told him about the mercenary captain. But confronting the implications of going back on his promise, he did consider that perhaps he was being exposed to the ‘bad’ before he experienced the ‘good’.

It’s not like he didn’t know how the world of mercenaries worked, no, that wasn’t it.

It was becoming clearer and clearer that the Mercs were deep in dealings with dark forces. Death, lies, deception, greed, the list went on. So what exactly were the Mercs ‘fighting for’? For the greater ‘good’? Who’s exactly?

The captain had at least kept his promise and did not harm the alleged son of the chosen one. But death was an active force in their wake, which bolstered the grip of the darkside within the ranks. The captain was exceedingly quick to anger and all too willing to act upon that emotion. S much so, that Mahaben resorted to mentally reciting a warding mantra to stave off the darkside ripples in the force.

The ex-jedi listened and witnessed the cycle begin anew. Anger blossomed into violence which yielded death.

Another presence emerged, one they called Chris Streets. A dispenser of death. And from the words spoken, such tragedies were ‘justifiable’. How different was that from the Imperial method, then?

Sodalis…what have you gotten me into…..

There was no way he could instruct anyone with such anger issues in the ways of the Force. That would be folly. Granted, things were never quite what they seemed on the surface. He needed to know more before making a final decision…at least he owed her that much.

“Their prophecy, not ours…”

That statement, would become the crux of the blind ex-jedi decision.

What was also becoming clear in all that was being revealed, was the malevolent and far reaching effects of galactic politics. Wasn’t the ‘Clone Wars’ lesson enough?
No, apparently not. The thirst for power was absolute and absolutely insatiable. It dominated all who ventured down that terrible path, be it Imperial, Rebel, Alliance, Mercenary, Jedi….anyone. And the prize cost far more than one ever bargained for.

So, the blind miraluka would play the ‘blind’ part. He had no right to interfere in business that he knew nothing about. But he would make it his business to learn more. Much depended on this.

“Safety, status report?” Captain Lasso inquired.

Tag: Tunnel Rats

********************************************************
IC: Winterkill( as Ezzio Creed )
Governor’s Palace, Garrison Base, Craci Prime

The nagai had choice words for the nurse, but decided against uttering them. This was the galaxy of the quick and the dead. If she didn’t figure it out, then so be it.

Mother Egg’s began to give instructions, and Winterkill almost did not believed what the arkanian had just signed to him.

Appartly Havah Jeth wanted him to put on that big ole target of a stormtrooper helmet on his head; though he had to admit, his reasoning was quite sound.

'Put on the helmet and remember to listen in on the enemy. Use resources. And prep for blasting out.’

Dark eyes darted from the helmet to the disguised arkanian then back to the helmet.

Use resources. right.

Without hesitating, Winterkill donned the helmet the trooper he’d just neutralized had been wearing. Thankfully, it was still operational. As he picked up the troopers rifle to better arm himself, he listened in to whatever info was being shared through the newly acquired helm. As he heard something about an E-web in front of the med-bay, he also heard Havah mentioned something about ‘turn ourselves in’.

What….?

This was no time for that sort of jest.

TAG: Double-O trouble (OOG: Very tired, just wanted to post and not fall behind. Sorry if its a bit disjointed.)

 

IC: Commodore William Anderson
Executive Officer; First Watch; Darkest Night, high orbit above Craci Prime, Corporate Sector


It was battle conditions. The General Preeminent had resigned himself to "duties of the State," which William had always seen as political affairs that a military officer should have no such business in. Rear Admiral Tod Dab had thus taken over the overall command of the situation and was "in session" with the top Army and Stormtrooper Commanders in the War Room, overseeing the subjection of Craci Prime to Imperial Rule. So, with very specific instructions, William Anderson was left in command of the Darkest Night and any immediate actions not needing a Admiral's approval. Such a role was second nature to Anderson, who had both Victory II-class and Imperial-class Star Destroyers in the past; his favorite posting was his last, however, when he captained a Secutor-class Star Destroyer in his last posting.

At 39 years of age, the Commodore was clearly one of the more experienced officers in the Navy, despite what the higher ups said. Dab and Soal saw him as such, so gave him a second chance.

17 years ago, at 22 years of age---still wet behind the ears, fresh out of the academy---the then Second Lieutenant (aka junior staff) had his first posting aboard the Imperial II-class Frigate Star Chaser for six months; that first tour of duty---that first posting always stuck with him and he smiled at the sweet memory---he was soon granted a Third-in-Command posting and promotion to First Lieutenant aboard a Gladiator-class Star Destroyer. That was a nine month tour, where his Commanding Officer and Executive Officer---a Captain and a Commander---had both been killed in a three day time span (the Captain by an exploding console, the Commander by a hull breach) through a five day battle in which the remnants of CIS hold-out forces had assaulted their heavily protected convoy of fuel, ammunition, supplies and parts, and food stuffs (compiling roughly twelve cargo vessels) to several Imperial bases along the old Outer Rim Sieges during the Clone Wars. The five day battle was full of hit and run attacks by the CIS hold-outs and newly formed anti-Imperial rebellion groups wanting to see the new galactic government collapse upon itself. There were moments of extreme terror in combat spread out in between long hours of waiting and worrying; long shifts and watches, false alarms, and tired crew members. Half way through the third day of battle, Anderson had taken over for his killed Commander. As a First Lieutenant, he lead his tired and beaten crew through two more full days of terrifying, sleep-deprived combat, where at times the only thing holding the Gladiator together was wire and bubble gum. The Imperials had been out-numbered, out-gunned, and had no support.

But they made it to the last base where, finally, three Imperial Victory-class Star Destroyers met them and drove off the last remnants of the CIS and rebellion forces at the last base. All twelve cargo ships had survived---with all their cargo---and every Imperial base had got their supplies and had provided temporary relief and protection to the convoy; but each time, Anderson and his forces would have to move on from the Imperial out-posts with none of the bases' local naval assets following them for extra firepower and each time, just when they were out of the Imperial out-posts effective strike range, Anderson's forces would get hit.

Five days of it, three Imperial bases to resupply. Their Imperial escort fleet of one Venator-class Star Destroyer and three Gladiator-class Star Destroyers had been reduced to a barely functional Venator and Anderson's sole remaining Gladiator, held together by wire, bubble gum, and super glue; over half of Anderson's crew was dead, the vast majority of the remaining crew had injuries, and none of them had more then an hour of sleep each night on skeleton rotating shifts. His Gladiator's shields had been knocked out by the third day of battle and his hull looked more like the impact craters of an unlucky moon towards asteroids, but even with half of the ship's systems failing, hyperdrive off line, communications reduced to static in most areas, and most of her weapons and starfighters either destroyed or barely working, Anderson and his crew had survived. Anderson had used the handful of AT-TEs and AT-APs---which had replaced about half of the troops aboard the Destroyer---as improvised mobile gun emplacements along the hull of the Gladiator when the ship's weapon systems were being taken out of service quicker then they could be repaired. He gave several of his troops space-suits and gave them rocket launchers and heavy blaster cannons to assist in the defense of the ship; depressurized or badly damaged gun emplacements on the ship were repaired best they could and crewed by crew members wearing space suits, as they were exposed to hard vacuum in most cases with the turrets' armor having body-sized holes all through it. He even had the engineering staff and bomb-trained soldiers utilize discarded containers and debris from battle damage from the Gladiator as improvised mine fields, releasing them during an attack and detonating them remotely against the enemy forces. Anything and everything had been used; even the droids among the crew, the engineering staff had modified their operating systems and gave them weapons, putting them out along the hull to help in the defense of the ship.

When he got back to his home port, after a rotation on home time and a chest full of military medals for his bravery and his crew's bravery, he had been promoted to Commander and given Second-in-Command of a Dreadnaught-class Heavy Cruiser for six months; he would soon be promoted to Captain when his CO was promoted and transferred to another posting. He would captain the cruiser, Outer Reaches, for two years. After a short stint with a Victory II-class Star Destroyer for three months as the CO, Anderson was given his first "big" command in a Imperial-class Star Destroyer. He served as the Second-in-Command there for several months as his CO was planning on retiring and showed hm the ropes. Three months into his new posting and their first deep space stop at a command space station, his CO retired and handed him the keys for say. He served aboard the Star Destroyer Dragon Strike for the next seven years, reaching the rank of Commodore, with honor and gallantry, both he and his crew receiving several awards and medals for gallant action in combat and peace keeping missions alike. Anderson and the Dragon Strike became a big name in the Mid and Outer Rims.

Then came the big times; a promotion up to Rear Admiral and Anderson found himself at the command of the Secutor-class Star Destroyer Sovereignty at age 35 Given a mission-specific Battle Squadron of sixty warships, the Sovereignty, six Imperial-class Star Destroyers, three Victory II-class Star Destroyers, three Gladiator-class Star Destroyers, 4 Vindicator-class Heavy Cruisers, 4 Dreadnaught-class Heavy Cruisers, 6 Carrack-class Light Cruisers, 10 Corellian Gunships, 10 EF76 Nebulon-B Escort Frigates, 10 Vigil-class Corvettes, and 3 Immobilizer 418 Cruisers were in charge of keeping pirates, smugglers, and mercenaries clear of important Imperial economical, commercial, and military interests in the Outer Rim. Their squadron, Revenging Fire Tactical Naval Squadron, was so gallant in their pursuit of illegal dealings and armed enemy forces in the Mid Rim that, just two years later, one of the Imperial New Order's highest business elites came out to visit the success and progress Anderson's squadron was doing for the New Order's expansion of ideas and business into the Mid Rim.

Anderson's career was on the verge of success, rumors of a promotion to one of the deep core fleets was already going around. Then it all fell apart in fiery debris. A terrorist attack---by one of the rebellion groups---blew up the businessman's shuttle under escort of several of Anderson's own TIEs and in the midst of his squadron of warships. The explosion had been planted on the shuttle before launch from the private space yacht of the businessman, but someone had to be the fall guy. Someone had to take blame. As a good soldier---as the overall commanding officer of the squadron----Anderson took the blame, expecting the evidence to speak for itself. The evidence did and Anderson was cleared of all charges, but his career never recovered. Several demotions, a transfer off of the Sovereignty and to some Force-forsaken Baas-class Space Station in deep space in the Mid Rim. For almost two years his career rotted away in that hellhole of a posting and so did his life. He lost his marriage, his career was on the verge of complete collapse, and his out-look on life was looking more and more like the bottom of the liquor glass he drank from everyday.

Then someone---and in more specific Hilick Soal---did their homework, promoted Anderson back to Commodore from Station Commander and gave him his career back as the Second-in-Command of the Darkest Night. Anderson had no small doubt that Rear Admiral Tod Dab was involved in the resurrection of his career, since Dab and Anderson had served in the Revenging Fire Tactical Naval Squadron together for a brief time when the Dab's ImpStar Terminator had been transferred to Anderson's squadron for a particularly hairy and dangerous operation in which found Imperial victory.

So, when the reports came in from Craci Prime for hospital ships, Anderson---when the rest of Acklay Squadron arrived Craci System---smartly and quickly started ordering the requested hospital ships and personnel to the surface of Craci prime. The rest of Acklay Squadron started taking up residence with-in the system, slowly pushing the rest of the CSA Picket fleet to the very fridges of the Craci System.

"Commodore," said the Sensors Chief himself quietly as he came up to the Commodore on the bridge, "We may have a problem."

Anderson turned to the officer, "A problem?"

"Yes, sir. We have a Light Corvette that just exited hyperspace from the Cadomai System. Imperial markings and all security codes check out. Communications are badly damaged, sir, from what appears to be a recent battle with unknown aggressors and she's lost control of her engines while in hyperspace from that battle damage and exited too close to the planet; she is broadcasting a distress signal. Tractor beam control said if we try to tractor onto her, we'll rip her apart at these speeds in space. So Tractor Control is recommending we at least try to slow her down and try to redirect her course to either an ocean or a canyon area; if we don't do something, at those speeds, she'll crash into the planet with the force of a nuclear explosion. It could kill thousands, if not millions, on Craci Prime. At least an ocean or canyon would somewhat contain the worst case."

"Agreed," Anderson said, "Get to it right away Chief. I want results, not excuses."

"Yes, Commodore, right away!"


TBC (Tag Sith-I-5 if needed)

 

IC: Beskaryc Taab
Dep S hangar bay, in orbit over Craci Prime

Taab peered carefully around the rounded "nose" of the salon pod. It had come to rest towards the back of the bay, and while it was useful as cover for now Taab knew he had to get out of the kill box he found himself and up to higher ground. The walkway behind him was cleared, but not a good candidate for such, damaged as it was. The walkway in front of (and above) him was however, That's where the Rodian was though, and Taab would have to clear her out of the way first. He whipped his carbine around trying to get a bead on her as she ran but the angle wasn't right so he held fire. It was him against manda knew how many, he would conserve his ammo. Still using the pod as cover from her he moved back towards the backside of the pod. If he could blast a hole in the plexiglass "siding" of the walkway it would give him an entry point to the walkway. Dispatching the Rodian from there should be easy enough. He checked his jetpack's systems. They were now ready to go (as was his flame projector), bringing the carbine up to his shoulder he prepared to fire when a familiar sound echoed through the bay, a sound he had heard countless times during the Clone war. Battle droids.

The clanging rolling sound that reverberated through the bay denoted that these weren't the simple "BONE"s that had made up the bulk of the droid armies (and some of which "served" back on the Johnny Boy as a part of the ship's security force). Those would have posed no risk. These weren't even B-2 Super Battle droids, which while presenting a slightly more capable opponent would have been easily dealt with. No, that rolling/clanging sound was distinct to the droideka, and those posed a bit of a problem, especially in such a confined space. Their shields made them...resistant to blaster fire, and their own rapid fire blasters made them difficult to approach. Still Taab had dealt with them (and fought alongside them) on numerous occasions, and so he knew their weaknesses as well as their strengths.

Hunkering down he heard two rolling closer towards him, one along either walkway. Behind him one crashed through the hole he had blasted in the walkway there, effectively putting it out of the fight and demonstrating one of the droideka's weaknesses. They weren't too bright. OK, one down, time to exploit another weakness.

Along the other walkway the droideka rolled quickly along, still following its programming and trying to complete the kill box around Taab. The Mandalorian had other ideas though, he brought up his carbine and setting it to fully automatic fire blasted away at it through the plexiglass siding of the walkway. The siding shattered, and the crimson blaster bolts tore into the droid "ball" exploding it and sending shrapnel flying. The droideka was a tough opponent when its sheilds were up, but it wasn't very mobile. Folding in on itself and rolling from place to place certainly increased their mobility (indeed it made them quite formidable when deployed as a Quick Reaction Force), but it also made them vulnerable as they couldn't raise their shield, nor shoot back. Their paths also tended to be predictable, a fact made worse by the constrictive nature of the walkway. Two down, and now Taab was in no danger of being flanked from behind and above. Time to go with brute strength.

Slinging his carbine, Taab pushed back from the pod slightly to give him a better angle at the droideka on "his" side of the bay. Aligning his wrist rocket launcher on target he fired, at the same moment that the droideka let loose with its blasters at him. The wrist rocket Taab fired was a short range, non-guided weapon, but it packed a larger punch than most and was actually designed for anti-vehicle applications. It shot straight and true, impacting the droideka's shields and exploded, overwhelming not only them, but destroying the droid inside. Sadly Taab didn't see any of this as a pair of blaster bolts struck him in the left chest plate. They didn't penetrate, but the sudden hammering to his chest forced Taab back and he fell to the ground with a loud *THUD*.

"Ow," Taab groaned, that was going to leave a mark. He knew he would be bruised pretty badly where he had been hit, but the beskar had done its job. He would live, and he could still fight. Taab shook his head side to side somewhat, trying to clear the dizziness from his mind. Performing his own combat roll to the left brought him back under the pod's protective cover. Looking out to where the droid that hit him now burned, Taab reached into his ammo pouch and replaced the used wrist rocket with another. Three down, and one more to go he thought to himself as he snapped the rocket into place, wondering what else the bad guys had in store for him.

TAG: Sith-I-5, Heavy Isotope

 

IC: Crewperson Mary Formal, Luck's Gamble cockpit
Location: Skies over Craci


Formal had left the city far behind. Not in aero terms, but it would be a heck of a walk if she had to ditch in the rolling Ebla fields below.

The CSA had taken their HUD back, and made no attempt to contact them, and the cease fire with Imperial forces had seemed to be holding, with none challenging her departure from the population centre.

Mary blinked, it was time to contact those missing Mercs.

She hadn't seen or heard from their pilot and charmer, Kilo Typhon, since they had landed at the spaceport, driven into town, and gone their separate ways. She decided to do him...contact him, first.

"Papa Zulu from Live Free and Die Hard. Do you copy?"

She waited a few seconds for a response, then moved onto the next one. Security Chief Taab.

"Iron Hand from Live Free and Die. Do you copy?"

She waited a few seconds, then checked on Masha.

"Edge from Live Free. Do you copy?"

Sunri Lasca was next, though she did not have a callsign for him. "Sunri from Live. Do you copy?" The Arcateenian considered a moment, and thought, What the hell. "Sunri's starfighter from Luck's Gamble, do you copy, over?"

Mary hadn't heard from the Nagai warrior, Winterkill; or squadron leader Havah Jeth, either. In for a penny, in for a pound.

"Specter from Live Free and Die Hard. Do you copy?"

"Spook from Live Free. Do you copy?"

She sat back and waited for responses. After a moment, she reached out and took a long draught from the glass of fruit juice that she had taken from the craft's fridge.

Tag: Mitth_Fisto, Heavy Isotope, Bardan_Jusik, Skywalker_T-65, greyjedi125,

 

IC: R3-S6 'Sleek'
Skies over Craci

Sleek had been flying the Long Strider over the surface of Craci for some time now, firing 'her' lasers at any pieces of debris still coming down, that were small enough for the blasters to destroy. There was little else she could do, considering that Sunri was in space now. At least, that was the case until another message came over the comm systems. Turning her attention to the message, Sleek listened.

"Sunri from Live. Do you copy?"

Sleek received the message by default, as Sunri had set up 'her' comm systems to receive any messages once he was past a certain range from the source. And low orbit counted in this case. She would have replied to that message, but another came through after a short pause.

"Sunri's starfighter from Luck's Gamble, do you copy, over?"

That was rather easier to answer, since it was directed directly at her.

"This is R3-S6 on Sunri's fighter, I read you," Sleek replied, using the same voice-over method she had used for the last message.

TAG: Sith-I-5


(OOC: I decided Sunri has enough on his plate at the moment )

 

IC: Captain Jason Lasso
Underground Tunnels, Near the CSA Governmental Complex, Craci Prime


"Quagmire, Safety. We have Icecapades, I repeat, we have Icecapades."

"Sith," Lasso breathed quietly away from the comlink; 'Iceapades' was Yav's last request at coining Imperial SpecOps. The mercenary captain had thought the Elf was making light of the situation in the condo...guess not. "Boss? We're still in the tunnels, and I think we're inside the compound, but not yet under any buildings. There are fresh bodies, twenty to thirty, just dumped into the tunnels, and at least one has Espo dog-tags. It is my belief that Imp' spec-ops have control of the facility. Over."

"Copy Safety," Lasso finally replied, "Continue on mission. But..." Lasso looked over at Atin, then focused back to his comlink, "I'm going to add a little distraction. Quagmire out."

Lasso waved the group to him, Atin falling in line last as he was on point, "We have a situation. And it looks like whoever it is, they're good. I'm going to be asking a lot of you, all of you. Atin, that rocket-pack of yours is going to be our saving grace. And Mahaban; you, Boras, and Ulrike are going have to be very clever and keep our techs' heads down," Lasso nodded to the two remaining hospital computer wizards, "Here's the plan. Atin, I need you to find a place once we're clear of this tunnel system and get to a high point. Take Chris Streets with you. This is a five building complex, with our target building being the highest point. Get to the roof and if your rocket-pack can handle it, take Chris Streets with you; if not, Chris, you have a long haul to the top," Lasso smiled a bit, "You two will be our cover. Atin, if you have any anti-armor ammunition, now will be the time to use them. Or find some to use. You two take anything out once the shooting starts that looks like it's going to endanger our mission. Also, keep the roof clear, because it may be our only escape route. Now get going; keep it quiet and don't engage until ordered. Be creative in how you stop any tangos. Good luck."

Atin and Streets left, now Lasso turned to his remaining mercenaries, "Okay, Ulrike, Boras, and Mahaban, your on baby-sitting duty with a license to kill. Get our two techs," Dak was nice enough to have a floating hologram waiting in a mini-projector of the primary target building; the hologram showed the security station for the building, possibly one of the best defended areas of the base, roughly square in the middle of the towering building, "To the security station. They can hack into the systems from there, take over the building's passive and active security measures, and provide us with an advantage. You must get there quickly and before the shooting starts. Hurry up and connect with the Commander and Sydney, they'll have a good way in and you can branch off from there on your own mission. Me and Dak will handle Mr. Vortex personally. Now get going."

The second group left, leaving now just Lasso and Dak. "Well Captain?" Dak asked.

Lasso smiled thinly, "Leadership has it's costs."

"To the end, Captain. With you to the end," Dak said firmly.

"Good," Lasso said, checking his blaster rifle and thanking those Rebel soldiers for all of that extra ammo for a weapon type a few of them shared with him, "You said there was another way in then what the Commander appears to be using?"

The droid nodded, "Yes, sir. If I know our Elf Commander, sir, I know which way he will take---or I assume, logically, he would take. We'll take the other way. As long as the blueprint hasn't changed in the last ten years, that is. It wasn't easy to catch and if we take the wrong tunnel at the Y, we'll end up in the middle of downtown where Streets inserted himself---as did his modified ASN courier droids with the toxin darts had gone."

"I was wondering what fired those darts," Lasso commented, not remembering see who or what fired those toxic darts.

"The droids left through a ventilation shaft before anyone could see them," Dak clarified, "Us droids, we see those things. Back to the point, if we go the right way in the tunnel, assuming it's still passable, we should end up near a old service turbolift that I hope is still operational, considering it's the back escape route from where Mr. Vortex is secured at."

"I thought you confirmed that the safe room was a one way in and out?" Lasso asked.

"It is, Captain, or at least I thought it was. And as far I know, Mr. Vortex has no knowledge of the old way out. Only one blueprint had the turbolift listed---the earliest drafts of the building----the others did not. So I am taking a wild guess here that the final drafts had the turbolift as well, but someone didn't want anyone to know."

Next stop: Mr. Vortex.


TAG Tunnel Group

 

OOC: thank you to Star Wars wiki for the Huttese words.

IC: Mr Niall, crashed hoverbus, irradiated spaceport
Location: Craci Prime


Mr Niall could hear someone on the move, within the bus, from somewhere behind him. He didn’t recognise the voice, but his bodyguard might recognise it as the twi’lek family man who had asked about his documents earlier.

“Excuse me, excuse me, sorry about that. Oops.” The voice, faint at first, was coming closer, but due to the people laying on him, he could not even crane his neck around to see. “Coming through. Ow”

“Ms Oshi?” He called ahead to his bodyguard, “Kannari?”

Kannari Oshi’s employer, had been a, shall we say, naughty boy, so he wasn’t totally surprised, as he lay among the dead, dying, and severely inconvenienced, on his right side in a bed of broken polarised black glase, to feel was he assumed to be the business end of a blaster poked unceremoniously into his spine.

“Hey!” he complained, just in case he was being paranoid.

“Hagwa doopee (Don’t move).” The same voice now instructed in guttural Huttese.

Niall was sandwiched between an unconscious male Ishi Tib who could do to lose some weight, and the bed of glase. “That will not be a problem.”

“Escarpa da Hutt kul rul yay pul-yaya ulwan spastika kushunkoo oponowa tweepi. (Escarpa the Hutt has no time for smugglers who drop their shipment at the first sign of an Imperial cruiser.)”

“Upset, was he?”

“Song harl tish ding! Dopo mee gusha, peedunkey? (He flipped his ****! Do you feel lucky, punk?)”

Niall rolled his eyes. “Well, les’see. Out of all the spaceports in all the galaxy, I had to land at one that gets hit by a missile, and now I am laying in a crashed bus, buried under a collapsed building, with a bounty hunter’s blaster in my back. Take a wild shot in the…no wait, that’s a figure of speech!”

Tag: Jedi_padawan_leigh

 

IC: Charlie Watertin
Light Corvette (imagine), entering Craci Prime's atmosphere


The reversion back into the atmosphere was joined by two things: first, the massive sonic boom reentry; second, Wa Yay's annoying voice.

"Do you have the thrust breakers on?" She pretested.

Charlie rolled his eyes from the pilot seat, his crash webbing holding him in tight as clouds started giving way to brown and green land masses below with more clouds between the Mercs and the ground still. "Will you let me do the flying!"

"I'm tying!" Wa protested as she strained from the co-pilot's seat, "But I'm finding little faith in it right now. We're less then five hundred miles from the ground now!"

"Don't remind me!" Charlie grunted as the control yoke shudder in response to his control and the ship's descent.

"Imperial tractor beams are pushing us!" Wa said, "Sensors are---CRAP! Sensors are out! We just lost the forward sensor array!"

"I see that," Charlie observed as the sensor dish's remains slid off of the front viewport in fiery display.

"What's your brilliant idea?" Wa asked, "You know they'll send a rescue party after us! And we'll all be captured!"

"That's the plan," Charlie said as he finally started to level the Corvette out several miles above the ocean waters, two Lambda-class T-4a shuttles coming alongside to either port or starboard of the bridge with a half squadron of TIE Advanced x1s in a escort box formation, "Well, at least you to be captured."

"What!" Wa yAY screamed.

"What?" Charles asked, "Why do you think I'm wearing the Imperial Officer's uniform? You think the Imps will believe an alien? No," Charlie said matter-of-factly, "So that's why us humans are going to suit up as Imperials. While the rest of you are going to be our prisoners from a failed pirate raid. The destroyed droid parts we brought along of B1 and B2s are going to be scattered about the ship, while our droids hide in one of the cargo holds. Once the Empire confirms that this ship was part of a nasty pirate attack, as no doubt that Imperial dreadnaught has already alerted all near-by Imperial commands to, we'll get a free lift and repair."

"And then what? When they back crossed our files and found out we're imposters?"

"Simple," Charles replied, "We simply switch ships; any detention center will be near other spaceships you know for easy access, probably the spaceport or something along those lines. Then, with this captured bad boy off of us, we take another ship of equal of greater value and get the Mercs off this rock. We'll be clear of this captured Imperial ship and no trace to track us down."

"Right..." Wa said, shaking her head, "This is no plan at all. This is the last time I'm ever putting you in charge of a mission."

One of the male human Mercs walked onto the bridge, adjusting the captured Stormtrooper helmet into place, "Sirs, we're ready."

Wa looked back to the human and dug her face into a hand, "We're so dead. You had Bill be a Stormtrooper?" She asked through spread fingers covering her face as she looked at Charlie.

"What?" Charlie asked, "He doesn't have to talk. Only I do as the Imperial officer," the comm board started beeping, "Okay, time for my Imperial officer voice again."

"We're so dead," Wa said as Charles opened the comm board.


TBC

 

IC: Deputy the Astromech bridge of the captured Light Corvette
Location: entering Craci Prime atmosphere


The black-plated and domed R2 unit sat at the back of the bridge, using all three legs to withstand the buffeting that the ship was going through as Charlie Watertin fought the controls, trying to keep them in one piece while visually convincing the Imperial observers that they were in some kind of trouble.

Chief Petty Officer Wa Yay had not exactly been keen to have the droid along, but as he'd told her when she'd discovered him on the last vessel after it had left the Johnny Boy, he had a pilot - Yav - down there, and they were not doing this frakking sith without him!

He felt he should be surprised that Captain Lasso's own astromech, Dude, wasn't here too, but he was more a sit at home, pining, sort of droid, whilst Deputy rolled his metaphorical sleeves up and did something about it.

Right now, while the Petty Officer was second-guessing Watertin's plan, Deputy was third-guessing it, listening in as the organics bickered.

"What's your brilliant idea?" Wa asked, "You know they'll send a rescue party after us! And we'll all be captured!"

"That's the plan," Charlie said as he finally started to level the Corvette out several miles above the ocean waters,

[And this did not raise a red flag for anyone?] The droid queried to himself. He had insufficient data to even begin formulating a Plan B, but at least this pair of yah-hoos had gotten them to the planet.

"Well, at least you to be captured."

"What!" Wa yAY screamed.

"What?" Charles asked, "Why do you think I'm wearing the Imperial Officer's uniform? You think the Imps will believe an alien? No," Charlie said matter-of-factly, "So that's why us humans are going to suit up as Imperials."

Well, the man was certainly in uniform. So, [Check.]

"While the rest of you are going to be our prisoners from a failed pirate raid."

[Check.]

"The destroyed droid parts we brought along of B1 and B2s are going to be scattered about the ship,"

Deputy had done some of that. [Sorted. Check.]

"while our droids hide in one of the cargo holds."

[Wait...what?]

Realising he was out of position, the droid wheeled round to the doorway leading off the bridge, only for it to slide open, and one of their stormtrooper-disguised Mercs to step through. "Sirs, we're ready."

[Not quite,] the droid blooped, nudging through the space between the man's left leg and the door frame, [Gangway.]

Behind him, the droid Wa Yay complain. "We're so dead. You had Bill be a Stormtrooper?"

Tag: Intervention (only if necessary)

 

IC: Havah Jeth / Tiaca
Medlab Governor's Palace / Imperial Garrison, Craci Prime, Craci system

After Nurse Cunnings had finished addressing his minor but highly irritating wound with a kolto irrigation. The upside of which was that his smell of cheep ale inside his mask now had to compete with the smell of some type of sea plant that was just beginning to rot. Maybe not the best compromise but it would have to do. As Winterkill had given no signs that there was any alerts to their presence or actions the team soon found themselves just one corner away from where they had entered the medbay. Hopefully the three of them with weapons training would make quick work of things.

"Take right," he said pointing at Tiaca, "take left," he added pointing at Winterkill, "Center." he pointed to himself, "Hang back two tics." he gestured at the Nurse Cunnings.

With palms up he waited for any last second words before they breached from the rear with them coming from behind and to their enemies position orientations left side of the door way. If there was nothing they would proceed and see how they fared at breaking out of here.

TAG: Bravo, greyjedi125, Sith-I-5

OOG: Make up thy own results if you like

 

IC: Hutt Caravel
Location: orbit over Craci Prime


Sunri press of the button was true this time, the engines flaring into life to slowly push the leisure yacht through the debris field.

The earlier burst of fire from the outboard laser cannon, had pushed the craft ever so slightly of course, so that it would miss the open hangar doors of the larger Bulwark-class cruiser.

Tag: Sunri

---

IC: Communications Officer Buddie Cool, Deb Dullflush (Hangar Security), Captain MacFarland, Bulwark-class cruiser, Dep S
Location: orbit over Craci Prime


The rodian Comms Officer was touring the prison level below the hangar, peering into the barred wooden doors on either side of the several metre-wide walkway, at the twenty-eight femmes and two males that they had already captured on this trip.

None of the listless detainees appeared to have been harmed, not that he was going to open any of the doors to treat anyone.

The ship shuddered, and he snapped his head round to the nearest speakers at the sound of the hangar alarm.

They had different alarms for different parts of the ship, to remove that delay of finding out where a problem was.

"Now what the heck is that?" He wondered aloud

"Something wrong?" Asked a plain-looking brunette human on the other side of the nearest cell, seated against the far wall with in her metal bikini.

"Nchtha zno ta. Fnrt pwusko vtulla pa. (I'm not sure. I'm getting a bad feeling)" Buddie turned to glance through the vertical metal bars at her, vaguely recalling that she was an Espo, captured whilst retracing her sister's footsteps who had disappeared whilst visiting from somewhere deeper in the Corporate Sector.

Buddie smiled at that. Now they had the full set. Assuming she didn't have any other pretty siblings.

* * * *
Hangar

Deb, up on the catwalk, shielded her face as a blase of blaster fire shattered the plexiglaxe safety barrier, a dozen meters to her left, and hit the still rolling droideka in its vulnerable state, dark grey shrapnel biting into the ceiling, ricocheting of her armour, and billowing smoke and flame over onto the caravel below.

She reached the taller of the glassed cabinets in the wall, and unwilling to turn her back on the threat down below, did a high backward kick to shatter the glaze with the heel of her combat boot, spilling shards over the already ruined carpetting.

She coughed as the smoke from the two explosions reached her, and she silently cursed the makers of her suit for not catering to her kind with the breath masks.

Deb hugged the wall while looking down, suckered fingers trying to grab hold of the Sorosuub Equaliser weapon in the wall brackets, whilst also keeping eyes out for the threat from below.

She could see the droideka on the far side tap-tapping forward, in an attempt to sight the assailant.

* * * *
Bridge

MacFarland had had two OOM B1 pilot battle droid variants, with the blue-painted shoulders, join him on the bridge to take over the controls, taking places in front of his command chair, while he moved to the console that gave him views into the hangar.

"Alarm." Called one of the droids, turning its snouted head to observe the array of readouts. "Imperial ships flooding into the star system, and approaching the planet."

"Captain, Caravel Three is on the move." Called the other. "Orders?"

MacFarland looked over at the second speaker, ignoring the rest of his bridge crew as the couple that were trying to recover, helped each other into seats. "Any life signs on the caravel?"

"Affirmative. One."

"Use tractors to guide it into the hangar, and seal the bow."

"Roger roger." The second droid turned back to its task, spindly digits stabbing at the controls.

"Plot a course out of orbit that avoids the major Imperial ships. Basically, anything the same size or bigger than us."

"Roger roger."

MacFarland could not see much using the security holocams to indicate what was causing all that smoke and action within his bay, even as a droideka exploded over the edge of the port side catwalk.

He entered a special code that allowed him to see through the photoreceptors of the droideka, cycling through the lined, staticky vision being fed through the droids' globular shield.

Ah-ha, he could now see someone crouching in Mandalorian style armour, "Get him, get him!"

Though the droideka could not hear him, it opened fire upon the Mando' just as he sent a mini-rocket towards the droid's POV.

The Mando was bowled over, but the transmission disappeared into white noise, which frustrated the captain no end.
But on the other hand, he had seen the man go down.

There should still be one more droideka in there, to finish him off.

Tag: Skywalker_T-65, Heavy Isotope, Bardan_Jusik
OOC: Rodian words from the SW Wiki.

 

IC: Crewperson Mary Formal, the Luck's Gamble
Location: skies over Craci Prime


Mary didn't know if she should be worried. She had sent transmissions out to, like, seven Mercs, and the only response to come back, was from one of the starfighter.

"This is R3-S6 on Sunri's fighter, I read you."

It hadn't exactly proved its usefulness back in the city when they had asked it to track that lartie, but what the heck, she pressed the button to respond, then hesitated, what the hell do you say to a self-aware spaceship?

How's it hanging?

Though hold on? Mary considered. The thing had said 'R3-S6'. That was an astromech ident, a tad easier to identify with, since several of them formed part of the Johnny Boy's crew, and some of the little buggers had relatable personalities.
She pressed 'transmit', and decided to wing it. "R3, hello. How's it going?What is Sunri's location, please?"

Tag: Skywalker_T-65 (the starfighter)

 

IC: Beskaryc Taab
Dep S hangar bay, in orbit over Craci Prime

Taab had just finished attaching another rocket to his wrist launcher when he hard the tap tap tapping of the last droideka inching its way closer to him. Every now and then it let loose with a brace of blaster fire from its twin cannons, an attempt to keep him pinned down. It certainly had the advantage over him right now, any attempt to clear past his cover and get a bead on the approaching droid would earn him a belly full of blaster bolts, and he might not be lucky enough to catch them him his armor plates this time. Still, he had an idea...

"Iron Hand from Live Free and Die. Do you copy?" Came blasting through the earpiece in his buy'ce. It was about shabla time someone came looking for them. He paused before responding. He knew he should return the signal and let the rest of the Mercs in on their situation before he re-engaged the droideka, that way they would know where to find the others should the worst happen. But he was confident that they could at least get partially out of this on their own, though they might need a pick up. Besides, if he waited too long his plan wouldn't work. He continued on with the droid first.

Listening to the droid's approach, and watching the incoming blaster bolts Taab judged where he figured the droideka must be. Dropping back down to the floor he got as low as he could, he knew the droid would keep blasting at where it approximated it's targets midsection would be until it had reason to adjust its own targeting. He inched forward himself, allowing just the range finder located on the left side of his bucket to extend beyond the edge of the pod he was using as cover. Through it he caught a quick glimpse of the droid, confirming his earlier suspicions, and pulled back before it could adjust fire on him. "Close enough," he mumbled to himself as he pulled a thermal detonator from his pouch and slowly rolled it around the edge of the pod, towards the droid.

The explosive rolled slowly towards the oncoming threat. If Taab had done it right (and he was sure he had, he had done this enough times before) then the slow rolling device would be able to pass right through the shield protecting the droideka and explode within it. All he had to do was wait for a few moments. Unseen now by Taab as he hunkered behind the pod the thermal detonator rolled on, slowly, softly, a whisper of the same sound that the droideka itself would make when rolling about in transport mode. As its fuse "burned down" it got closer and closer to the advancing droid until it unfortunately was stopped by a small piece of debris, one of many that now littered the hard deck plating of the Dep S's hanger bay.

Fortunately though the oncoming droid walked right over the debris, and the detonator allowing both inside its protective shield just as it let loose another barrage at Taab's position. A moment later the thermal detonator exploded, taking the droid with it. The explosion and sudden cessation of suppressive fire caused Taab to poke his head around the salon pod where he saw the burning wreckage of the droid. "I knew it would work" he whispered to himself before responding to Live Free's communication.

"Live Free, Iron Hand." he called back, identifying who he was contacting as well as himself. "Edge myself and...Sunny are aboard a Bulwark crusier in orbit. They are trapped at the moment and I am attempting rescue. We could use a lift." That call made, and with the droids out of the way it was time to get his crew out of the pod. He hefted his blaster carbine and looked up to the walkway where he figured there would be some sort of controls to get the pod open. Checking to make sure his jetpack was primed he prepared himself to end this fight and get the Mercs home.

Tossing a riot gas grenade up through the hole he had shot out earlier he activated his jetpack and followed it through...

TAG: Sith-I-5, Heavy Isotope, Skywalker_T-65

OOC: Tactic used against the droideka first described in the 5th season (I think) of TCW animated show.

---

IC: Atin Taab
Underground Tunnels, Near the CSA Governmental Complex, Craci Prime

Atin continued on, leading the group through the tunnels under Craci Prime when the Captain halted the group and motioned them over for an order's group.

"We have a situation. And it looks like whoever it is, they're good. I'm going to be asking a lot of you, all of you." He looked right at Atin's T-Visor. "Atin, that rocket-pack of yours is going to be our saving grace. And Mahaban; you, Boras, and Ulrike are going have to be very clever and keep our techs' heads down," Atin didn't have the heart to tell his CO that it was a jetpack, not a rocketpack. At least not right now. "Here's the plan. Atin, I need you to find a place once we're clear of this tunnel system and get to a high point. Take Chris Streets with you." Atin looked over to the Chiss and nodded once. They had worked together before, and well, that familiarity would be a bonus here.

"This is a five building complex, with our target building being the highest point. Get to the roof and if your rocket-pack can handle it, take Chris Streets with you; if not, Chris, you have a long haul to the top," Lasso smiled a bit, but Atin frowned behind his faceplate. His jetpack was designed to carry only one individual. Sure it could handle two for a short period of time, but usually on the descent, not ascending tall buildings. "You two will be our cover. Atin, if you have any anti-armor ammunition, now will be the time to use them. Or find some to use. You two take anything out once the shooting starts that looks like it's going to endanger our mission." That caused Atin's frown to disappear. Like his father Atin was a veritable walking tank. He ran through the impressive amount of anti-armor inventory he had on hand through his HUD as his smile grew wider.

"Also, keep the roof clear, because it may be our only escape route. Now get going; keep it quiet and don't engage until ordered. Be creative in how you stop any tangos. Good luck."

"Roger that," Atin replied before heading off with Streets. He addressed the Chiss. "My jetpack won't be able to get us both up there. I hope you have another way for yourself."

TAG: Tunnel Group, specifically Chris Streets.

 

IC: Chris Streets
Underground Tunnels, Near the CSA Governmental Complex, Craci Prime, Craci System

"That all you got?" he replied with a smile and two fingered salute before heading off with Atin.

Already he was tapping at his wrist link a few simple commands as he was progressing with Atin, the kid quickly informed him that he was going to have to make his own way. "Abandoned in my time of need. Whatever shall I do?" he softly muttered before resuming looking where they were going.

"Just get us near it and I'll float up next to you. Cover me while we ascend, can't do everything at once you know." he said with a wink. Meanwhile one of the messenger drones he had converted to shoot the toxic darts was being diverted to meet them at their exit point. It would be terribly exposed, but he would be able to rise up with Atin. Although the maneuverability and responsiveness of the droid would be like riding a rising brick.

TAG: Tunnel Group, Bardan_Jusik

 

IC: Mahaben
Underground Tunels, Craci Prime

There was so much going on, and so much recent ‘history’ the ex-jedi was unfamiliar with. His time in self imposed exile had kept him alive…and ignorant to the developments within the galaxy at large. And now, he found himself in the middle of conflict once again.

Mahaben forced himself to stay focused, which was something he was finding increasingly hard to do, seeing how the Captain and his Mercs in action. Seeing how the alleged son of Skywalker was being treated by someone who was obviously blind to what and who stood before him.

The blind miralika grit his teeth as the temptation to interfere swelled inside in him, but he felt that doing so would likely spell disaster. He needed to be patient and trust in the Force.

Despite his feelings and his personal and unspoken disagreement with some of the decisions made ( he knew he had no power or say to change these events per se ), a new focus was issued, a mission. Words and history lessons would have to wait until later.

Along with Boras and Nurse Ulrike, Mahaben had been ordered by captain Lasso to escort two techs ( apparently recently recruited Mercs ) to security station.

“…baby-sitting with license to kill.” The captain quipped.

“You must get there quickly and before the shooting starts.”

Mahaben nodded. Someone was going to have to clear a path, neutralize enemy combatants. Who better to carry out such a task?

“Understood Captain.” The former jedi said evenly. His gaze fell on Lasso for a moment, but no words were issued before he simply turned, to follow the nurse, Boras and their two charges.

Mahaben opened up himself to the Force, using his visual advantage and his senses to triangulate danger. Expedience was of the essence, he understood as much. But he also understood that Bogan was being subtle in a renewed attempt to erode his resolve and his commitment to Ashla.

Focus only on safety and security, expediency and economy of time.

It would be far too easy to lash out at those who had nothing to do with his displeasure, simply because they were convenient targets.

Tag: @Sith-I-5, @Master Selkath

**************************************************
IC: Winterkill (as Ezzio Creed)
Imperial Garrison, Craci Prime

Dying time was here.

Mother Egg gave instructions regarding their formation. Winterkill did as ordered then checked the helmet data and relayed what info he perceived.

{“eyes on us”} he signed, confirmed that they were being watched and were in effect, on camera. {“death outside doors- big gun and soldiers”}

An idea came to the nagai.

{“wall on innocents”} He signed, indicating the current occupants of the medlab.

Would the Imperials mow down the whole lot just to get to them? It would be interesting to see. Winterkill envisioned two walls of innocents moving along with them as they made their way to an escape vehicle. The technical military term escaped him at the moment, but he conveyed the idea to Havah Jeth.

He then shrugged.

They could always have fun with the soldiers and the big gun if things didn’t work out.

After all, the only fair thing in the universe was death itself. No one could escape it. Not even the jedi.

Tag: @Mitth_Fisto, @Sith-I-5, @Bravo

(Gotta post and run, sorry for any typos )

 

IC: R3-S6 'Sleek'
Craci Prime

"R3, hello. How's it going?What is Sunri's location, please?"

Sleek wasn't sure how to answer that question at first. How did a droid with no body (or the body of a starfighter at any rate) answer 'how's it going'? Then the second part came through, and she had to use the Aurek's sensor net to try and track down the exact location of Sunri's comlink transponder. She knew he was in orbit, but beyond that things got a bit...fuzzy. The debris in orbit messed with communications to a certain extent, unless one had strong enough sensors to punch through the interference. The Aurek did, but it took some time nonetheless to track down the signal.

It would seem that her 'master' was still in the Caravel, surrounded by debris. Though it seemed to be moving towards a Bulwark cruiser...okay, that could be a problem...

"Sunri is aboard a Caravel in orbit near to, and heading towards, a Bulwark cruiser," the droid answered.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

IC: Sunri Lasca
Hutt Caravel

It seemed Sunri's push of a button had actually gone correct this time. The Caravel was moving, he could feel it in the deck plates as the engines came to life. But it was slow, probably because the powerplant wasn't operating at full capacity. There was also the...not so small issue of where it was going. In theory it should be traveling the same direction it had previously been going, but he had no way of knowing that from down here.

"Okay, time to find this hunk of junk's bridge," the pilot muttered to himself, moving back into the hallways, thankfully better lit now that power had been restored.

TAG: Sith-I-5 (indirectly Bardan_Jusik and Heavy Isotope )

 

IC: Masha Tinovorsh
Hutt Caravel, Saloon Pod

Masha heard more commotion from the outside, growing restless until she felt a small buzz in her jacket's inner pocket. Slightly startled from it, she reached into her jacket and took out her data pad, a message indicator flashed. Pressing the screen she opened the comm channel, the first transmission was recorded and played back to her, "Edge from Live Free. Do you copy?"

Finally.... she thought, though kicking herself for not thinking to use it earlier. "Edge to Live Free, lima charlie. Think you'd be able to trace my signal?" As Masha waited for her to respond she nervously held the hilt of her knife, wondering if the hatch would ever open and if it did, who would be on the other side. A small part of her was still hoping it would be kriff-face... Come to think of it, she sighed and thought to herself, which of the Mercs was Live Free.

TAGS: Sith-I-5, Bardan_Jusik, Skywalker_T-65