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

IC: Captain Jason Lasso
Bridge, Johnny Boy


Lasso had never got the opportunity to deal with his droid's circumstances directly; rather, Dude had rolled out of the Mess Hall, beeping and squealing about how no one understood him. On his exit out, Lasso could of swore he saw a blue Cowboy due rag with the red words "Fearless" on it, attached to the droid's right roller housing. But Mr. Biggs had inserted that the good ole' captain was seeing things.

Due rag or not, Lasso knew he had a crisis on his hands. A droid with a personality crisis. Or, as Biggs had put carefully, the droid was dealing with the fact that Lasso was never here anymore.Nnot "here" meaning starting with Lasso's suicidal trench run against the bridge of the ImpStar Imperial Justice and resulting memory loss. Truth be told, if Lasso would confess his demons to himself, he struggled nightly with remembering his past, even close comrades he served with. There were times that 'Yav, his trusted Second-in-Command, was nothing more then a new face with a few months of experience with the crew to Lasso. Patch 4, the Imperial Convoy...all of those were "lost" memories, more or less fragments that he tried tirelessly to put back together. Most days Lasso faked it, hoping blindly, trusting blindly, that the Elf wouldn't stab him in the back. Winterkill, Havah Jeth, even Dak...memories, fragments, of a life he struggled to understand, struggled to know, and struggled to forget because of the pain of not knowing any of it, but somehow living through it all.

The bottle had become a good, dear friend. A good, dear enemy.

But for now, Jason pushed all those thoughts aside. The bridge had called him up here because they were nearing the final jump transition point to the final leg of their journey. And protocol, this close to "home," directed that a Senior Officer be on the bridge. That left the Commander, the Security Chief, or the Major. Lasso didn't know if 'Yav was available this early, Taab was busy doing a security sweep, and Havah...well, Havah was a good question. A question that Lasso may have to deal with sooner then later if Jason's fears were true. But also, a fear that both Havah and Jason now shared. A fear that they both acknowledged during that faithful meeting with King Alex "The Just" and the Mercs for the first time. That fear of...failure. Of death. Of being the only one left alive, when you should of been the one dead, when everyone else around you was dead.

The blue tunnel of hyperspace collapsed, snapping the Johnny Boy back into real space. Out there, nothing. An empty piece of space with nothing but distance stars all around. The transition period should only take a few minutes.

"Hyperspace exit successful," Chief Helms Officer Andrew 'Guitar' Monk, a human, announced as he checked his console board.

"Redirecting course to point two three by point O Five," the Gungan Helms Co-Pilot Jityar 'Drums' Ba'tar said as the view of darkness in space started to shift as he brought the Johnny Boy to starboard.

"Passive sensors clear," Sensors Officer and Chief Petty Officer Wa Yay, a Gossam female, reported from the starboard crew pits.

"Secondary active sensor sweep clear," her new partner, a B1 Battle Droid named T, said from the second sensor station on the starboard crew pits.

"ComScan clear," reported April, a new member and human female, from the starboard crew pits.

"Passive communications clear," DelPike, the new Communications Station's Tech, and a Troig, declared from along the starboard crew pits.; the two head alien could run both the primary and secondary communications by themselves and both as effectively as two separate people; the second "head" spoke next, "Active communications sweep clear."

"Hanger Control reports clear," directed Herdferd the Toong from his new post at the Hanger Control station along the port crew pits.

"Damage Control clear and Maintenance clear," Ronnie the Xextosaid from his new station at the Damage Control and Maintenance Station on the port aft of the bridge.

Standing in Taab's stead at the starboard aft Security Station, one of the security droid (a B1 Battle Droid), announced, "Security clear."

"All weapons report ready and clear of enemy targets," Otter the Nosaurian reported as the new Chief Gunnery Officer from the port Gunnery Station #1, replacing the old Gunnery Officer that had left at the last port. While not experienced enough to fulfill the "Chief Gunner" role, Otter was the best they had; he had served with the Corellian Defense Force aboard a DP20 Frigate as a gunner for four years of a turbolaser battery before heading out to the Corporate Sector trying to find a new life. It not being battle conditions, the other members of the gunnery bridge team were not present.

Lasso looked at the holograpic read-out in front of him, "Engineering reports ready. All systems green. Helm, you may begin with---"

Yav did a quick appearance, letting the bridge crew know what he was doing, then left just as quickly.

"---Hyperspace launch," Lasso finished.

Soon, the JB was back in hyperspace for her final leg home. Jason looked out at the blue tunnel and sighed, getting up, "Chief Petty Officer, the bridge is yours. I'll be in my study."

"Yes, Captain," Wa Yay said, quickly assuming the Commander's chair.

Lasso proceeded to his Ready Room, where the door shut behind him. Finding his chair, the Captain put his legs up on his desk, leaned back in his chair, and decided to get some shut eye before they reached home.



TAG ANYONE
OOG: Just tried to detail the bridge crew to give it shape. I will add these members to the QR as soon as I get a chance. I know the post is rough, very tired at the moment. And just as a FYI, this is the "morning crew". But for sake of game argument, this "crew" is usually the one we see in battle like in Star Trek Voyager, this is the "battle crew".

 

IC: Aidan Dodd - aboard Blood Moon, Docking Pad 97, Cloud City

By the time 'Passepartout' alerts me to someone moving towards the ship I've cleaned all the various bits of my Deece and also cleaned the big Verp. What a task that was, it couldn't have been attended to for weeks, not something one skimps on with high-quality kit, let alone kit one might have to rely on for survival. Also not carelessness that I'd associate with a proper ARC Trooper, 'Run' or otherwise.

We've also done some stage-setting. Unexpected sight of Battle Droids, even old ones, isn't conducive to a good first impression and, notwithstanding that 'Baby Verp' is now out and ready in my hot little hand (if out of view at the moment), I've done enough killing for today. I'd had no idea those two B1s were still, in the timeworn militia-recruiting phrase, 'capable of free movement' but they are. Thanks to 'Passepartout' they're now perched on the seats at the Turret-control and Sensors/Missiles stations in their folded-up, storage, configuration - the high backs and deliberately-set angles of the seats will keep them out of sight of the main hatch.

The figure moving in Blood Moon's direction is wearing some variant of Stormtrooper Armour, but not moving quite right to be one. I've been around them, spent two and a half years as a trainee before earning (make that 'sweating circulatory fluid for') the right to wear the White Armour myself, so I know.

Then he removes the 'Bucket' and I see that it's the guy I followed into the maintenance tunnel, the one with the 'killer's eyes' to match mine; for those who can read the signs. He's spruced himself up considerably since then, and proved he shines-up well, but he's still recognisable. Now nicely tooled up with assorted weaponry too!

Removal of the 'Bucket' is a good cautious move. Suggests he's been around the sectors a few times, probably been in similar situations to this before. I approve! Dealing with an apparent Pro is much safer than doing the same with some snot-nosed, wet-behind-the-ears kid or a jumpy Civvy; one never knows how either of those types will react.

I sit down in the Comms/Energy station chair, which is turned to face the main hatch and rotate the table-shelf (it slots into a pivot point at the side of the seat) into the normal position for taking a meal-break. On top of it are a protective cloth, a (finished - but he doesn't have to know that) self-heating meal pack, a Lomin-ale bottle and a glass of what looks like Lomin-ale, but is actually a non alcoholic facsimile. It should give the non-threatening appearance of peaceable engagement in 'fortifying the inner being' I desire and provide a reason for remaining seated - where 'Baby Verp' can cover him while remaining out of sight.

As the guy comes up to the ship, I tell 'Passepartout' to open the hatch long enough for him to get aboard, then close and lock it as silently as possible. If anything does start, that should prevent there being any witnesses. The only base I can't cover is a personal 'deadman' device - but I'm now virtually certain that he didn't have anything to do with that bomb (what I said to the rent-a-badge was misdirection, so doesn't count), aside from being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Those who develop 'killer's eyes' look at their subjects as they terminate them and tend to do so reasonably surgically. Bombers do not - at heart they're cowards. Also, devices can do some funny things, like leaving a subject virtually unscathed - and thereafter both warned and confirmed as not paranoid, people readily accept that someone really is out to get him!

As the hatch opens, I call out; "Hello and welcome! Please come aboard and also please excuse my not coming to greet you myself. I'm at table."

Unless his armour has been given a massive upgrade, he'll be at a major disadvantage if he tries to start anything clever (like trying to pirate the ship single-handed). Standard Stormtrooper gear looks better protection than it actually is, especially against any kind of Verp; in fact, the only armour that I'd really bet against a Verp piercing is that 'Beskar' stuff Mandos strut around in.


TAG: Intervention

 

IC: Priest, Paragon
Location: Rhen Var

"We could sure use help around here until the Mercs get back with the Johnny Boy. Heck, the DD always needs someone to man a Quad. And when theJB does get back here, they could sure use help. But, I also understand that mercenary work may not be your calling and we can always keep you on speed dial for supplies I reckon. So I guess what I'm trying to say is, if you want a job, your welcome to one. If you don't, we understand all the same. Smuggling gives you more freedom these days anyhow. I can offer you a cup of caf for your efforts with that Supplier guy and thank you for your help, then you can be on your way if you don't want a job?"

Priest pondered the offer. Honestly, he had nothing else to do; and the contract that he had with Pierce was still not complete. He had to speak to Taller, he had to give him Pierce's message. Besides, sticking with these Mercs may keep him above board while he completed his assignment. And who knows...perhaps these people would lead him to a purpose that he had sorely been lacking for the past five months. He looked at the General and affixed him with his most charming grin.

"Well now General, I think that might work out alright; I'm always available for a little profit sharing, and this establishment seems to be a fine place. Tell me, do you have benefits, a stock purchase option, disability? You can't be too careful these days."

Tag:Bravo

 

IC: Commander Yavscout, Deputy the Astromech, Johnny Boy corvette, near the bridge.
Location: Real space - hyperspace transition point


The elf had noticed that they were in Real Space when he had popped onto the elevated Bridge level, and heard Jase from up on the Command Deck level, say "---Hyperspace Launch."

Yavscout nodded to himself, understanding that they were on the final leg of the journey home, as in, their home port.

Spacers, like he now was, attached significant importance to their home port, even though his cabin and Ready Room aboard the Johnny Boy were his real home for the time being.

Joining Deputy in the corridor, he noted the astromech had his Sensorscope telecoped out of his dome, the angular top waving from side to side.

"That's a bit overkill, isn't it?" Yav nodded at the extrusion. "All you need to do, is watch out for Taab coming round the corner or stepping out of a turbolift."

[Dude is in trouble. I need to go stage an Echo.]

"Pardon?"

[Sorry, an Intervention. I need to find Dude, and stage an intervention.]

Yav nodded his assent. "Jod's Speed."

[You're fragging hilarious,] Deputy blooped in digital sarcasm, putting down his third wheel and rolling towards a handy turbolift.

"I'm here all week!" Yavscout watched his companion disappear, then did some breathing exercises while he waited in the hallway like a lemon, waiting for the security chief. His reminisced about sunbathing on the white sands of a certain beach following a mission with the Mercs. I miss Port Haven.

After a moment, he glanced down to make sure he was wearing his duty S-5 heavy blaster pistol, one of the few holdovers from his time serving with the Naboo Security Force.

Superior Officer or no, Taab would have a right go if he turned up without it.

Tag: Bardan_Jusik

---

IC: Nurse Ulrike, Johnny Boy medical bay.
Location: Hyperspace


Ulrike stood alongside the jedi with her back to the good doctor as he said his farewells and retreated to get some rest.

The man deserved it, and though she would have been nice to call in Nurse Cunnings to take over, she found she wanted to see this through.

“She’ll be perspiring a lot more from now…” Mahaben advised.

"Ger-reat. I'll need a bigger cloth." Actually, now that she thought about it, she could tuck the sheet covering Kannari closer to her body, and when it was soaked, if it got that far, whip it off to be replaced by another.

“Good news is, this is proceeding a lot smoother than I anticipated. It should not take as long as I predicted. My apologies for the miscommunication.”

Ulrike smiled at the update. "In my book, Mahaben," she said without tripping over her wording this time, "a mis-communication would be you reporting, the shields will fail in three point five seconds. Uh, should I have told you earlier?."

A few more moments passed in silence, as the jedi purged, and she wiped at the clouded beads of sweat glistening on the cathar's face and neck.

“How are you holding up?” Mahaben enquired, eventually.

"What me, or her?" The medic asked. It was a sensible question, she felt, since there was no sign that Kannari had lost consciousness again.

Tag: greyjedi125

 

IC: General Perez, Paragon
Location: Rhen Var


"Well now General, I think that might work out alright; I'm always available for a little profit sharing, and this establishment seems to be a fine place. Tell me, do you have benefits, a stock purchase option, disability? You can't be too careful these days."

Perez laughed, "Benefits? If you not six feet under, there's your benefit package," Perez started walking, "I'm not the expert on pay around here. That's something for Captain Lasso to discuss. But for around here, at least for me and my people, we work for free. It's this whole prophecy thing, kind of sucks on the paycheck. But this," Perez extended a arm and turned around in different directions, showing all of the ice cave, "Is the Repair Bay. It's home for the Johnny Boy when she comes back. But that," Perez said as he lead Priest towards a break room, "Is all I can really show you at the moment. It's all top secret until the Cap gets back with the JB. However, so you don't get brain freeze---if your interested---we're sending out a patrol in about thirty minutes. Standard recon sweep of the planet. The planet is dead, so we're expecting to find nothing as usual. But you can never be too sure about such things. While you wait for the good ole' Mercs to come back, what do you say about going out on a little recon adventure? Just be back before dark...the temperatures start dropping to dangerous freezing levels. I'll hook you up with the platoon Lieutenant and you can go from there with him."


TAG Wildwookiee

 

IC: Terrel Vacks
Docking Pad 97, Cloud City


As the hatch opens, I call out; "Hello and welcome! Please come aboard and also please excuse my not coming to greet you myself. I'm at table."

Terrel grunts at the owner not coming down the ramp, but Vacks is quite certain he could handle himself. He hadn't made it this far in life without knowing a thing or two about fighting.

Walking up the ramp, Terrel's feet barely settle on the deck when the ramp starts closing. Out of training and reaction, his hands drops to his right holstered blaster pistol, keeping a steady hand at the ready for the quick draw.

"I need transportation," Terrel said out-loud, "Open question. No ride, I leave, you never saw me. Ride, we talk details."


TAG Tim Battershell

 

IC: Aidan Dodd - aboard Blood Moon, Docking Pad 97, Cloud City

My 'friend' enters. He seems surprised by the hatch closing behind him, but only responds by moving his right arm and hand to the ready-to-draw position.

"I need transportation.... Open question. No ride, I leave, you never saw me. Ride, we talk details.", he says, matter-of-factly. Reassuringly professional!

"Transportation I can provide," I reply, "If you've got any more dunnage to collect, we'd better send a Droid for it. Facial Profiling AI has got very clever over the last few years, can build a composite from a few glimpses, then monitor the securiity-cam feeds in real-time. Don't know if they have that sort of high-tech system here yet, but I was trained to presume a 'worst case scenario' applies at all times.

Bunkroom's second-right down the utility corridor. May as well dump your hardware in there, then we'll talk - nothing happens aboard this ship without my say-so and there's a Slicer Droid with a powerful subversion capability somewhere about that keeps it that way. I can lose the Verp Shattergun that's locked-in on your ten-ring too.... sorry about that, but I'm very careful about not getting ship-jacked!"


TAG: Intervention

 

IC: Security officers Izzy and Al (NPCs)
Crew Cabins, Johnny Boy, hyperspace en route to Rhen Var

Izzy and Al were bored. No, that was understating thing, they were beyond bored. According to Chief Taab the Captain had ordered yet another security sweep of the ship. None of the previous sweeps had turned up anything suspicious (at least as far as they had been told) but there was no arguing with the Mandalorian Security Chief about that. Not unless you wanted a trip to the medbay and a long recovery from a broken jaw. That would have been even more boring (and painful) than doing the sweep. So they followed orders, paired up and grabbed a scanner. Their assignment had taken them to the crew cabins area, Al was on the scanner while Izzy double checked his results and watched his back while the scans were in progress. They had to do it that way because Al had a problem.

The dark skinned human (and slightly portly) had once been a member of CorSec, a valued and highly respected patrol officer who enjoyed serving the public and deterring crime. His career had come to an undistinguished end one late night as he responded to a burglary call. Confronted by a young Rodian, Al thought the being had held a weapon and immediately drew and fired upon the youth, killing him instantly. Further investigation showed that the "weapon" had been only a toy, one which looked all too real in the dark. Al had been inconsolable, and even though a review of his actions found no wrongdoing on his part he knew he could never draw his weapon in anger again.

So he quit CorSec and took on odd jobs here and there. But his love of law enforcement kept bringing him back to jobs like this. Sure he wasn't enforcing "the law" here, but he was providing security and that was close enough. Especially since he was pretty sure that the worst he would have to do aboard the Johnny Boy was bust some skulls every now and then. His issued weapon (a CR-2 with the fore grip removed) would stay securely in its holster while he handled the rebuilt scanning device. His partner Izzy, a green skinned twi'lek, had no such compunctions, his right hand hovered near his holstered DH-17 ready for action. Truth be told, Izzy was kind of a jerk.

The pair moved from room to room, knocking, entering, performing their scan and then leaving without incident. It was boring, mindless work. "Why can't they get the droids to do this?" Izzy wondered aloud as they came to the next cabin and knocked on the door. Al ignored Izzy as a question came echoing out from behind the closed hatch. "Who is it?"

"Security, Ma'am. We're doing a sweep through the ship."

"Another one?" Al looked to Izzy who only shrugged back in reply.

"Captain's Orders, Ma'am. Can we enter? We need to do a scan of the room."

"Just a minute!" There was a brief pause. "Is Chief Taab involved in the sweep, too?"

What was her interest in the Chief? Al wondered to himself. The cantankerous old mando scared the hell out of most people, and not just because of the armor. Rumor was on the security team that he had issues of his own. Scary issues. "Yes, Ma'am. He's probably somewhere near the bridge by now."

"Okay, give us a minute to get dressed."

Izzy's eyebrows shot up at that. "Don't be a perv." Al whispered to him, but it was to no avail. Still it was taking an awful long time for the voice behind the hatch to let them in. Izzy drew his weapon "Cover me." Al didn't like this, didn't like it one bit. Slowly, apprehensively, he took his own weapon into his hand and double checked that it was on the stun setting. Then he checked again. This was his worst nightmare.

"We're coming in, ready or not!" And the pair burst into the room, Izzy out front with Al a little behind. Upon seeing the trio of scantily clad women the security officers stopped dead in their tracks. Al blushed slightly and fumbled to get his weapon put back away. But Izzy just grinned confidently holstering his own weapon. "Well, what have we here?"

TAG: Sith-I-5

ooc: yes Al is a character blatantly ripped off from Die Hard.

---

IC: Atin Taab
Rec Room/Gym, Johnny Boy. Hyperspace en route to Rhen Var

"I wouldn't call being knocked out by some kind of gas a nap. But, sure, that sounds fun." The heavy thumping of Atin's boots slowed in intensity as he reduced speed once again. He ignored the first part of her statement, not even recognizing it for the rebuke that it was and started to reply to the second. "Oh it was gre..." but he was interrupted by her suddenly flat tone. "We offed the lot of them, I made sure of it."

She then began to run faster. If Atin hadn't have known better he would have thought something was bothering her. But what was wrong with a high body count? Killing the enemy was something you were supposed to do. Wasn't it? He tried again.

"Too bad you can't claim all those kills and paint them on the side of your X-Wing huh?"

TAG: Heavy Isotope

---

IC: Beskaryc Taab
Entering the bridge, Johnny Boy. En route to Rhen Var

The turbolift doors opened and as Taab stepped out he was nearly bowled over by the form of a rolling astromech. Glancing down at the beskar'ad (droid) Taab immediately recognized the color scheme of Yav's droid Deputy. So, the Elf was already here. Good. Ignoring the droid now, Taab saw the Commander waiting for him, armed. The Elf may have his own bag of tricks, but even he saw that having a blaster at your side was a necessary addition to security work.

He approached, saying nary a word until he reached the Commander, and even then he exchanged no pleasantries with him. He simply motioned with the scanner towards the bridge "let's get to work."

TAG: Sith again.

 

IC: Terrel Vacks
Blood Moon, Docking Pad 97, Cloud City


If he was aboard the Johnny Boy, he would of been one of the very few personnel allowed to keep his weapons. In fact, Vacks never took his armor off and rarely even took his helmet off while aboard the Marauder-class Corvette.

It was a thing he had.

And no one ever questioned him about it. Not even Taller.

But this wasn't the Johnny Boy and the man before him was over two decades too young to be Taller.

So Vacks simply nodded, stored away his gear. He was coming back out, wearing a simple gray tunic and pants with black tennies shoes---finishing putting on his chrono aroud his wrist---when he looked up at the man, "I can pay you as soon as we reach my destination. You mentioned training, what type of training?"


TAG Tim Battershell

 

IC: Aidan Dodd - aboard Blood Moon, Docking Pad 97, Cloud City

A little to my surprise, although being covered by a Verp is quite an inducement, my 'friend' gives a nod of acknowledgement and complies with the instructions without a murmur.

While he is so occupied, I enter the cockpit and deposit my own weapon in the hidden hidey-hole with the others. Fair's fair; he deserves some professional courtesy on my part and if I'm to get what I want out of this deal, I need to build some trust and goodwill with him first. That job done, I return to my seat, but don't bother to re-lock the cockpit door behind me.

"I can pay you as soon as we reach my destination. You mentioned training, what type of training?", he says when he returns. I notice he's changed out of his armour into a grey tunic, grey slacks and black gym-type shoes. I'd only intended for him to stow his weaponry, but we can both be more comfortable now!

"Long, convoluted and confusing!", I tell him, "Only began to make sense afterwards. Started by giving me a working knowledge of every Imperial Capital Ship class, then switched over to the Stormtrooper Corps, then Navy Special Ops. Guess Imperial Centre wanted someone who could become the proverbial 'invisible man' aboard ship in case Command Officers 'misbehaved'!

More recently, I've been tasked with carrying out selective eliminations outside the Navy, some obvious assassinations, some that had to look like 'tragic accidents'.

Then they made a very bad mistake, killed my parents and a lot of my childhood friends by Orbital Bombardment of my hometown on an insignificant little planet you've likely never heard of; name of Agamar. The actual place was called Tondatha. The alleged reasons were sedition and plotting against the Emperor. I know that both charges were false and all those people innocent, I grew up there and knew them very well indeed; made me think that some of my victims, perhaps all of them, could well have been innocent too.

My handlers don't know it yet but I've quit. Quit the Empire and, most particularly, that 'Adjustments' outfit that's had me running around whacking people for no good reason that I could see.

Why I followed you earlier was I thought you might know of some trustworthy low-profile people I could hook up with and who might offer me some chance of payback. Primarily I'm a Sniper, with a strong minor as a Pilot, and some cross-training in Comms, Demolitions and as a Battlefield Medic."


TAG: Intervention

 

IC, Priest, Docking Bay
Rhen Var

"Is all I can really show you at the moment. It's all top secret until the Cap gets back with the JB. However, so you don't get brain freeze---if your interested---we're sending out a patrol in about thirty minutes. Standard recon sweep of the planet. The planet is dead, so we're expecting to find nothing as usual. But you can never be too sure about such things. While you wait for the good ole' Mercs to come back, what do you say about going out on a little recon adventure? Just be back before dark...the temperatures start dropping to dangerous freezing levels. I'll hook you up with the platoon Lieutenant and you can go from there with him."

Priest weighed his options. On one hand, he had to help Coffee with the ships diagnostics, but a patrol would be telling on just how these people operated. He had never been a line troop; when he joined the Imperial Medical Force he was a Major, and by the time he jumped ship he was a Colonel. He had never had to take orders, especially from a Lieutenant. But this was a different world, and he was not banking on those skills. With bravado, Priest swung his arm out in an inviting gesture. "Since I haven't seen the entirety of this tourist trap, I would be remiss if I didn't take an opportunity to see all the joys this planet has to offer. Please, lead the way."

TAG: Bravo

 

IC: Masha Tinovorsh
Rec Room, Johnny Boy

"Too bad you can't claim all those kills and paint them on the side of your X-Wing huh?"

"I suppose," Masha replied, as much as that made her want to laugh, she was focusing on running. Almost done... She slowed down for a few moments before picking up the pace, then slowing down again to repeat the process. This was all for her endurance. "Back home it was always the meat-headed pilots that would do something like that. Our defense force was pretty desperate, so there were a lot of people under-qualified that were allowed to fly," she said slowing down for the last time and slowly going into a brisk walk, "They pulled through when it hit the fan, but we were just going against raiding parties and pirates, not an organized military."

Masha always seemed to land somewhere in the middle amongst the other pilots, there were few that were highly skilled and driven, and the others she had just described. Maybe she was above average, she learned the skills quickly and knew she was good in a dogfight but never pushed herself to be like the top pilots. The Variant Headhunter was the stepping stone to the X-wing, the Danoor Defense Force spent the money it saved not getting X-wings to make them faster and outfit them with newer armaments, though without upgrading the safety features it made them much more dangerous than the base models of the Variant and X-wing.

As her walk slowed to a stop she took one last deep breath before forcing herself to breathe evenly. Drinking the rest of her water she then looked to Atin, "You hungry?"

TAG: Bardan_Jusik

 

IC: Commander Yavscout, Johnny Boy corvette, Bridge corridor
Location: Hyperspace


Yavscout noticed, down the hallway, Taab step out of the turbolift that Deputy had called, the Mandalorian glancing momentarily down at the droid as they nearly collided.

Yav repressed an involuntary shudder upon seeing the other's T-visored boycie turning to face him, instantly reminded of his initial encounter with Boba Fett.

He had been an SGIS agent, a Surefall Paramedic, a pilot with the Naboo Security Force, and a Merc. Boba Fett should not be a problem to him, but...but, the being had nodded to him while Yav had been invis'd for frag's sake!

He forced himself not to consider that if one helmeted Mando' could see him whilst he was Camo'd, maybe Taab and Atin could too.
He forced himself not to go there, for that way, madness lay.

The elf's thoughts drifted to the origins of his phobia.

A young level 15 scout on Norrath, just feeling his way across the lands beyond where he had spent his early levels, exploring the forests and plains, hunting, passing out buffs and heals for goodwill, spreading the praise of Tunare, the Goddess of Light.

A polite level 9 gnome wizard, Winbik, light skin, bald, very lightly dressed for the environment, if memory served; had approached, and asked for a SoW.

Abbreviation for Spirit of Wolf, a buff to increase running speed.

Yavscout had Sowed him, added a couple more buffs for the heck of it, and watched, troubled, as the diminutive gnome had thanked him, and veered off to a treeline to the North that Yavscout had only been peripherally aware off, and had not visited yet.

The elf did something he had never done before, and that he would later learn was termed "riding the kill", chasing down wounded prey to make sure they died.

In this case, the elf Camo'd himself, and trailed the young gnome, blithely ignoring the other's right to privacy.

Elf trailed the gnome across the rolling prairie, and plunged into a treeline at the base of a hill, which quickly got very dense, to the point that the elf was concerned that he would both lose his quarry, and get lost himself, somewhere up in the hills.

After about ten minutes, he noticed that the other had just stopped in his tracks.

Yav likewise slowed, angling away to the side so he could see what the client was looking at, and saw, through the dense, cloying green-grey foliage, a dip in the land, a very small valley.

He saw some things very clearly. Several dozen metres down the hill, five ornately-carved structures of glowing stone, reminiscent of tombstones, being guarded by several heavyset bipedal creatures that he did not recognise.
The fifth item was most telling. There was a body down there amongst the dead leaves, close to the stones. He could see that it was the same as that of the young wizard whom he had trailed here.

Oh! This was a Corpse Run!

On Norrath, when beings died, their corpse, with all their belongings, remained at the site where they perished.
They were 'respawned', usually naked, at a Bind Point, where their souls were bound, and would have to trek back across the land to where their body was, to collect their clothes, weapons, supplies, and hope that whatever killed them the first time, wasn't still around.

So that the land wasn't littered with bodies, they disappeared after a short while, meaning a Corpse Run or CR, was a bit of a priority.

"You have witnessed Shaman Power." Yavscout must have blinked or something, for the entire fragging camp had run the hundred metres up the hill to Winbik, and mowed him down! "Just a shame that it was in battle."

Whoa, that was fast! Yav's shock was tempered with relief. Thank frag he'd thought to invis' himself.

"You have witnessed Shaman Power." An ominously deep voice baritoned, as one of the creatures came nose-to-nose with the elf, "Just a shame that it was in battle."

WTF? Yav had thought, as the gypsy camp in the West Karanas where his soul was bound, materialised around him. "No really, what the hell was that?! I WAS INVIS'D FOR FRAG'S SAKE!"

"Hello," Winbik had greeted from down by Yav's hip. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Uh...hi." The jig was clearly up. No point lying. "I was worried about you, and...I, sort of followed you. Sorry about that. Anyway, whatever killed you, took me out as well. But now that I know that a Shaman is involved, we're going in-

"Let's get to work," from Taab, tore Yavscout from his reminisce, and he looked over to see Atin's Buir (Dad) gesturing with a hand-scanner away along the corridor.

Turning to fall in beside the warrior, the helmet connected to Yav's belt, bounced against the wall to his right. "So, we're not scanning the bridge?" He asked, surprised, "Or are we doing it on the way back?"

Tag: Bardan_Jusik

 

IC: "He," Alexander Zat, Special Agent Bonds
Suterusu, HT-2200 Medium Freighter, heading towards Darknon Station in the Itani Nebula


The dreams of home and past had gone with the coming of morning. A new day of routine had progressed aboard the hyperspace bound ship. Then night came upon them. But a new dream came to "He"...a dream he had never had before...

TBC

 

IC: Taycie Vao, Mary Formal, Rachael Williams, Johnny Boy crew cabins
Location: Hyperspace


Taycie, Tayc' for short, was surprised at the turnaround regarding her situation, though she was not sure how she felt about breaking into the Security Office.

Still, there would be three of them involved, as long as none of the other two girls pulled out, so any trouble would be shared.

Alerted by the metallic scratching from the cabin door, as well as the guards warning that they were coming in, Mary dropped into a cross-legged position before her, and then the door was open, two beings, a dark-skinned human, and a green-complexioned fellow Twi'lek, burst in, only to stop dead in their tracks, holstering their weapons.

The Twi'lek, whom Tayc had seen around, mainly in the food hall while she had been on-shift, helping Mr Biggs dole some of the more sloppy fare out into people's pre-formed trays.

"Well," The latter enquired with one of those tones, "what have we here?"

While she looked up at them with a suitable expression of surprise, she was aware in her peripheral vision that Mary was playing 'eye tennis', silently asking if she was interested in the fellow Ryloth native, not that she knew if he even hailed from there.

Frankly, she wasn't even considering anyone until she could clear them of involvement in her mess.

"Morning Al, Izzy." Rachael greeted from behind her.

"We are having," Mary announced, looking up at the men now, from her place on the fluffy blanket, "a picnic. See anything you like?" She waved at the foodstuffs by her knees.

Tayc stared at her new friend, realising the human probably had no idea what she had just asked.

Tag: Bardan_Jusik

 

IC: Mahaben
Johnny Boy, Med Bay

“What me, or her?” Nurse Ulrike asked in response to Mahaben’s own question regarding her well being.

The blindfolded miraluka half-turned his head to smile at the good nurse. In the brief pause that followed, he allowed himself to enjoy the moment.

Jedi or Force Users for that matter, were not all-knowing or all-powerful, though much too often they were made out to be such. No matter how well meaning, that was a trap by the darkside. A sensuous appeal to one’s vanity. It was small moments and innocent exchanges like these that reminded him of his own ‘fallibility’ and helped him hold on to what little humility he had left.

“My question was for you. Short staffed as the ship personnel is, and given the conflict we barely managed to escape, I can only imagine how overtaxed you must be. Please do not push yourself too far.”

The ex-jedi offered the good nurse a silent nod before returning his attention to their patient.

The cathar’s fever was already subsiding, which meant the last of her purging was well underway.

Healing.

It was something the entire galaxy was in need of. Mahaben felt silent shame. He was a poor healer. Biological repair was plentiful and quite available through conventional means and more esoteric practices, but what about the unseen scars? The deep wounds not visible to the normal eye?

“It’s the least I can do…” He said aloud, but to no one in particular. With a slow exhale, the blind man re-centered and refocused himself. Part of good healing was giving the patient your undivided attention. There would be more than enough time for musings afterwards.

“Not much longer now.” He reassured the nurse.

Tag: @Sith-I-5 ( Feel free to wrap up this scene as you see fit )

---

IC: Winterkill
Aboard the Johnny Boy, Hallway

The answer he received from Havah Jeth only managed to generate more questions. So, he was not interested in the bounty on the Jedi. He could understand if the money was not an incentive, but what about the challenge itself? It was true that, had Havah Jeth posed him with the question, his ‘spoken’ answer would have been similar.

The nagai noticed a familiar shift in the area, that ubiquitous hum and almost imperceptible vibration as the ship prepared to make the jump into hyperspace.

Though Havah did nothing to open the door to his cabin in a calndestine manner, Winterkill care not for such information. Entering the arkanian’s quarters without an invitation was a death sentence, much like anyone entering his own.

No light emitted out of Havah’s room, for there were no windows and the lights remained as they were; unlit. Only the light from the hallway spilled in.

Havah entered followed by his droid, Pic, who began to help him remove his mag boot sin short order. The nagai chose to remain outside. No invitation had been issued.

“As for Taab; We have his son, if all else fails. So I don’t see an issue.”

Winterkill cocked his head to one side at this bit of information. ‘We?’ he mused for a moment. Did that mean that Captain Lasso guaranteed safe passage to the jedi? It sure sounded like it. Chief Taab was an honorable man, but he was also a Mandalorian. This was indeed an intriguing situation. As for ‘having his son’…

“I hope you’re right.” Was all the nagai said in his usual toneless delivery.

For a brief second, he thought back to the rec room where young Atin Taab was probably making advances to the elusive female pilot. It would have been interesting to test the young mandalorian, to spar him, however, the female would’ve been a distraction…but for whom?

“So, are you planning to stay in there all day?”


Tag: @Mitth_Fisto

 

IC: General Perez, Lieutenant Hawkins
Location: Mercs' Outpost Nowhere, Rhen Var


Lieutenant Hawkins was doing a last minute check-over of his gear, as was the rest of his platoon scattered about in a small gathering in between starfighters in the main isle in the Hanger Bay. It was another patrol. The patrol was almost useless, since Hawkins and everyone else for that matter knew nothing lived out there...or anywhere else on the planet for that matter. But, the Lieutenant figured, it was better then sitting here all day with your thumb up your arse.

"Lieutenant," came a commanding voice.

Hawkins looked up, seeing Perez. "General," Hawkins said, straightening to attention.

"This man," Perez said, nodding to a man to his left, "Is Priest. He recently helped us out and is willing to learn a thing or two while he waits for the JB to get back for approval to sign up."

Hawkins nodded, "Yes, sir. We'll make sure he gets back alive."

Perez nodded, "Good," then the General turned to Priest, "This is Lieutenant Hawkins. Good man, good solider. Just follow his lead."

After Perez had left, Hawkins sized the man up. The Lieutenant was one of the few non-clone / genetically engineered "super soldiers" of the new SCA. He was, instead, picked up from the old King's Army and trained in the SCA. But the LT figured this Priest fellow didn't need to know that about the LT's life. "Welcome," Hawkins finally managed as he threw his backpack on, checked his weapon, and then yelled out, "First Platoon, lock and load! Move it out!" The LT put actions to words and armed his own blaster rifle before taking up a position in the roughly forming patrol line as the platoon headed for the hanger exit and the path that lead down to the base of the mountain, "So Priest, you ever been in the military before? Any cold weather experience or survival stories?"

The Lieutenant tried to start "small talk" with the man, but it was hard. In fact, it had been hard ever since he was forced to leave his family back on the Planet of Jod and follow the Queen into exile in the Northern Stretch. He was, at one time, a joyful man. But now, he was a man who poured himself into his profession and if you weren't a soldier, he didn't talk to you. So this Priest fellow was stretching his abilities of socializing.

As the platoon headed out the hanger doors and onto the mountain road leading down, the cold frigid wind started swirling around them and Hawkins remarked out-loud, "It'll be a cold one again today."


TAG Wildwookiee
OOG: I have a plan for this sight seeing adventure, so don't worry, you won't get bored!

 

IC: Havah Jeth
Johhny Boy, Quarters

Looking up at Winterkill, politely standing outside his door he had to pause a moment. He almost wanted to ask what the man was doing over there, then remembered when he had nearly killed the present Captain when he had come in and been rude, and then promptly saved the kids life. . .actually Winterkill waiting made a lot of sense now that he paused to think about it. The Nagai still had good, dry replies. And here he thought he was the depressed one.

Still, "Why? You wanting to wrestle?" Havah replied with a raised eyebrow. Slapping his armored knees he stood up and stretched a little. Letting his feet adjust to being back in their proper armored prison. Pic merely went about putting the wooden box away now that his master was seen to.

"Alright, lets see what can be done. You hungry or want to spar a little?" he openly asked as he stepped back out of his room and let the door hiss shut behind him. He looked a little forlornly at where he now had an desk waiting for him down the hallway briefly. Looking back he shrugged at the Nagai, inviting whatever the other felt like.

TAG: greyjedi125

 

IC: Terrel Vacks
Blood Moon, Docking Pad 97, Cloud City


Empire. Spec Ops. Intelligence.

All of those words sent hairs tingling on Vacks' neck. Either this guy was a con artist hopping on the Imperial storyline or he was a really brilliant Imperial mole by saying it all up front and banking on the fact that no one would believe him and then take everyone out.

Or he was saying the truth and really wanted a out from the Empire.

Either way----con artist, Imperial Intelligence agent, or honest man---Vacks had a choice to make. In the galaxy, things were changing. The game was changing.

"Adjustments?" Vacks said, noting his few and very unpleasant run-ins with them over the years, "Tell me, what do you know of a band of mercenaries called the Mercs?"


TAG Tim Battershell

 

IC: Winterkill
Aboard the Johnny Boy

“Why? You wanting to wrestle?”

The way Havah Jeth sometimes rephrased things could make anyone change their minds about the very question they’d just asked. Winterkill simply chuckled darkly and waited. The rephrasing did prompt a memory of the arkanian’s joint locking skills and ground work. However, the nagai was an expert escape artist and almost as well versed as his arkanian counterpart in close quarter combat, that fact compounded with his natural nimbleness almost put them on equal terms.

“Alright, lets see what can be done. You hungry or want to spar a little?” Havah asked as he stepped out of his room and into the lit hallway, the door to his quarters hissing shut behind him.

‘A little’ Winterkill thought looking up at the arkanian, his black eyebrow raised for a moment. He almost felt insulted by that remark, but he knew better. Havah was at it again, already sparring on a more subtle level before things escalated to the inevitable encounter. It was a psychological attack, insinuating that he was but a ‘little challenge’.

Hmph. Winterkill was on to him though, as he knew the man was always ‘on’. That was the good thing about Havah Jeth. You always had to be on your A-game. He forced you to always be at your best.

“Mess hall sounds good.” Winterkill responded as he turned.

“I’d rather eat now, than end up in medbay and eat their food later.”

For the second time, Winterkill chuckled. To anyone else, the sound would be unnerving. But in reality, strange as it did seem, the nagai was in a good mood.

Strange things were happening in a even stranger galaxy.


Tag: @Mitth_Fisto

 

IC: Aidan Dodd - aboard Blood Moon, Docking Pad 97, Cloud City

"Adjustments?.... Tell me, what do you know of a band of mercenaries called the Mercs?", my new 'friend' asks.

"Adjustments is part of Isard's Imperial Intelligence 'shop', a blacker-than-a-black-hole part! It's tasked directly by the Ubiqtorate and supposed to be a last-ditch method of correcting critical Intel problems; not that the 'bio' information on my subjects gave much indication of that! Far as I could see, before and after, they were just regular beings. Don't know about you, but I rather dislike being lied to and/or played for a naive fool; but at the bottom end of a chain-of-command one has to rely on kill-orders making perfect sense to someone further up the chain. Someone who's looking at the 'bigger picture'. Right?

As for the 'Mercs', none of my subjects' 'Associates and Affiliations' tabs mentioned them, so all I really have is Scuttlebutt, and none too recent Scuttlebutt at that. One school of thought was that they were actually a plausibly-deniable Rebel Special-Ops unit founded and trained by 'Kraken'. Their reported effectiveness fits with his professionalism, he's the one Rebel even Isard is said to really respect; in contrast to the idealistic dreamers that seem to make up the bulk of the Rebels' ranks.

The other was they were exactly the mercenaries they purported to be and either really that good or just exceptionally kriffing lucky at pulling-off their known operations. Up to about a year and a half ago, when they seemed to just drop off the scanners, that is. Last I heard, they hadn't resurfaced. Not as far as anyone had confirmed, anyway."


TAG: Intervention

 

IC: Atin Taab
Rec Room/Gym, Johnny Boy. Hyperspace en route to Rhen Var

"Back home it was always the meat-headed pilots that would do something like that. Our defense force was pretty desperate, so there were a lot of people under-qualified that were allowed to fly."

Atin took in what she was saying, speeding his treadmill up further. He was nearly finished with his warm up now. "We Mandos are big on taking trophies from our kills. How do you think my buir (father) got all those lightsabers he has stashed away?" Atin knew there were other trophies his father had taken in the past too. Trophies from the war and his jetii (Jedi) hunting days that Atin wasn't supposed to talk about. He blinked twice rapidly, trying to forget the stories his buir had told him...

"You hungry?"

With the thoughts of "trophies" still fresh in his head Atin wasn't hungry at all. He wasn't squeamish, but even he had his limits. Limits his father apparently didn't share. Even if he had been, he had just started his workout and he wanted to finish. He stepped of the treadmill, deactivating it. "Not really." He really should finish this workout right now, but something told him that Masha didn't want to go eat by herself. "But I'll keep you company if you want."

TAG: Heavy Isotope

---

IC: Security officers Izzy and Al (NPCs)
Crew Cabins, Johnny Boy, hyperspace en route to Rhen Var

"See anything you like?" Izzy stepped forward with a lecherous sneer on his face but Al stopped him with a light backhanded slap to the chest. "C'mon. We don't have time for that." Izzy was still eyeing the twi'lek fem with a hungry look in his eyes but remained quiet. Al adddressed the women. "Sorry ladies. Just here to do a quick scan and then we'll be on our way." He shrugged. "No time for a picnic today."

He looked to his partner who still hadn't taken his eyes off the women. "Right?" There was no reply so Al rapped Izzy in the chest again. "Right." this time it was a statement and not a question. That seemed to break through to Izzy who stammered suddenly. "Oh yeah, right. Right."

Al wasn't so sure the women were off his partner's mind just yet but they had a job to do. He brought his scanner up and started his survey of the room. "This should only take a minute or two."


TAG: Sith-I-5

---

IC: Beskaryc Taab
Entering the bridge, Johnny Boy. En route to Rhen Var

"So, we're not scanning the bridge? Or are we doing it on the way back?" Taab rolled his eyes behind his face plate. He had clearly indicated that they would be scanning the bridge first. Perhaps this was another manifestation of the Commander's seeming inability to remember simple code names and phrases. That in and of itself amazed Taab. He had lived his entire life with such phraseology and picked it up and remembered it rather easily now. Maybe that was an ability he took for granted. Didn't matter now.

"No shabuir," he said turning the Elf around. "We scan the bridge first. Al'kesh's team will scan it again as their last stop and check us on our results."

The pair entered the bridge area. From her position in the captain's chair it was obvious that CPO Yay had the deck, the Skipper must have been in his ready room then. They would have to scan that area too. Taab also immediately noted the B1 at "his station", a result of him having to pull all organic security team personnel for the sweep. Not that he would have trusted all of the security folks to man that post anyway. Some didn't seem to be too far removed from the criminal scum that security would normally hunt down. But beggars couldn't be choosers and they had all sworn allegiance to the Mercs. Of course if the oaths of these aruetiise (foreigners) were worth anything they wouldn't need to perform this scan either.

The bridge crew didn't say anything to either Yav nor Taab. At least not right away. Their reason for being here was self evident by the scanner that Taab carried instead of his usual blaster carbine. Taab brought the scanner online and started adjusting it. The bridge would be a wonderful place for a "bug" or tracker to be placed. All information pertaining to ship operations flowed here, and so it was the best place for a spy to gather what he or she needed with minimal effort. One stop shopping as it were. The various stations of course let off their own EM signatures which also interfered with the ability of the scanner to detect what Taab was looking for (hence his near constant adjustment of the device). Fortunately most crew members allowed total bridge access were those that had the complete confidence of the Skipper. One of those officers would almost always be present and planting any device here would be difficult to accomplish without someone taking notice. Still, it was worth the extra effort here to make sure that nothing was amiss.

Nothing of that sort was showing up thus far though. The bridge seemed clean. Taab turned to Yav, "Let's go bug the Skipper."

TAG: Sith again. Bravo

 

IC: Captain Jason Lasso
Bridge, Johnny Boy

Door Buzzer.

Lasso snapped awake, almost falling out of his chair. Clearing his throat and wiping his blurry eyes, the tired Captain said, "Enter!"


TAG Bardan_Jusik and Sith-I-5

 

IC: Terrel Vacks
Blood Moon, Docking Pad 97, Cloud City


"...As for the 'Mercs', none of my subjects' 'Associates and Affiliations' tabs mentioned them, so all I really have is Scuttlebutt, and none too recent Scuttlebutt at that. One school of thought was that they were actually a plausibly-deniable Rebel Special-Ops unit founded and trained by 'Kraken'. Their reported effectiveness fits with his professionalism, he's the one Rebel even Isard is said to really respect; in contrast to the idealistic dreamers that seem to make up the bulk of the Rebels' ranks.
The other was they were exactly the mercenaries they purported to be and either really that good or just exceptionally kriffing lucky at pulling-off their known operations. Up to about a year and a half ago, when they seemed to just drop off the scanners, that is. Last I heard, they hadn't resurfaced. Not as far as anyone had confirmed, anyway."

Terrel nodded. He had heard plenty of rumors regarding the connection between the Mercs and the Rebel Alliance. Part of that rumor was true; back before the Kingdom of Jod entered the picture, the Mercs were handpicked by Mon Mothma to be part of Operation Intervention. The details of the operation were to be off the books for the Rebel Alliance; no written evidence, no evidence whatsoever of the Mercs and Rebel Alliance working together. The point that Taller still had beef with Mon Mothma over the botched assassination attempt of newly elected Emperor Palpatine in 19 BBY had to be maintained---and it wasn't too hard, since Taller had avoided helping Mon Mothma with as much zeal as he hated the Empire since the Alliance's formation. The operation's details were for the Mercs to work alongside a handful of Rebel Alliance Intelligence Operatives to prevent the Empire's plans with the Red Rock. The Alliance didn't have the resources to fight both the Empire on a conventional / guerrilla front and keep the Red Rock from the hands of the Empire. So Mon Mothma chose the only man with more hatred for the Empire then even her, the one man who would rather die in the line of the duty then see the Empire flourish for one second more. That man was Rick Taller and the only capable fighters crazy enough to follow him to hell and back were his Mercs. The Operation had turned sour after several of the Rebel Operatives were found to be corrupt and working for a mysterious man known as Darth Maximums. Colonel Greenwood's betrayal aboard the Rebel Alliance's top-secret prototype project for Red Rock usage, the Red Ocean, was a near-diaster for the Mercs as the corrupt Rebels almost had them trapped. An undercover Imperial agent among the Red Ocean's crew, turning out to be a Human Replica Droid, was the last straw for Taller. Seeing how bad the top ranks of the Rebel Alliance were corrupted not only by the Empire, but also by this mysterious Darth Maximums, Taller withdrew from the covert alliance with the Rebel Alliance. A handful of wishful thinking of rekindling that alliance came and went with no hope and ultimately, the Mercs and the Kingdom of Jod would team up, leaving the Rebel Alliance to fend for themselves against the Empire and their desire for the Red Rock.

As for the second half of the man's knowledge, it seemed that Darth Vader, Hilick Soal, and the Emperor were doing a good job---considering the disaster of Project Zero and the near death of the Emperor himself and the loss of thousands of Imperial personnel and warships---keeping the rest of the Empire in the dark about the Red Rock hunt and various projects connected to it. It seemed that, even for this Imperial agent, information wasn't traveling far from the source or at the very least, the information was being feed with additional false information to confuse anyone trying to pinpoint what was going on. So, it seemed, even Imperial Intelligence was in the dark. Which, Vacks knew, could be contributed to Hilick Soal's extensive ISB background and knowledge. The Emperor hadn't promoted the man to the Imperial Court for no reason. He had the connections, resources, and knowledge how to keep everything in the dark. And was doing a very good job at it.

Vacks kept his reply short and to the point, "Good. Well, to answer your question, I do know a outfit that specializes in paying the Empire back and in dramatic fashion. The problem is, they need to gain your trust. And so do I. So why don't we play a little game to see if you say what you really are and want? There is a bank on the planet of Javin. I will give you your money there for transportation, so we are square. I am sure this outfit is need of supplies. There is a Baas-class Space Station outside of the Greater Javin, outside of the star system of Polmanar to be precise. It has one-hundred Imperial Navy Commandos as security, plus station crew. Standard four TIE Fighter defense. But you'll find more there then just supplies. I've been there before, but I here things have...changed. We'll see how dedicated you are to destroying the Empire. Are you ready to leave?"


TAG Tim Battershell

 

IC: Aidan Dodd - aboard Blood Moon, Docking Pad 97, Cloud City

"Good. Well, to answer your question, I do know a outfit that specializes in paying the Empire back and in dramatic fashion." So far, so good, I thought; now what's the downside?

"The problem is, they need to gain your trust. And so do I. So why don't we play a little game to see if you say what you really are and want? There is a bank on the planet of Javin. I will give you your money there for transportation, so we are square. I am sure this outfit is need of supplies. There is a Baas-class Space Station outside of the Greater Javin, outside of the star system of Polmanar to be precise. It has one-hundred Imperial Navy Commandos as security, plus station crew. Standard four TIE Fighter defense. But you'll find more there then just supplies. I've been there before, but I here things have...changed. We'll see how dedicated you are to destroying the Empire. Are you ready to leave?"

If my 'friend' is proposing to turn me into a mass-murderer then perhaps his 'outfit' isn't for me. Unless the proposal is a disguised test to see if I'm some kill-crazy psycho. While deciding on my reply I extract my 'special' stylus and start, apparently idly, twiddling and twirling it using the fingers of my right hand. Then I speak;

"Passepartout.... wake up the Sleeping Beauties, please," meaning the two B1 Battle Droids, "and posture them for departure. Also, full lockdown on the ship, please.", Lets see how my new 'friend' reacts to the Droids activating and becoming visible! Also to the realisation that his gear is now locked away until I release it. To him I say; "Don't be alarmed, they're part of the crew, and don't have weapons.

About that space station, there are dozens of that class scattered around the Galaxy and I doubt the total loss of half their number would hurt the Empire in any way at all; Palpatine probably wouldn't even notice! So what's so special about this particular example? A hundred Navy Commandos instead of Depot Security types seems rather like overkill to me.

No need to spend your, or your boss', Credits on your Passage Fee though; call it a discount for probably sticking you into the frame for murdering the rent-a-badge that called in the alert on you, plus two of his mates that turned up almost as soon as you'd left the tunnel. The first one got a good look at my face and I didn't see any point of letting any of them live after they threatened to arrest me. Difference being, no description of me got sent out, and I used a somewhat unconventional exfiltration route that kept me out of sight. A route I sometimes use when I'm heading in to make a kill!

As for supplies, I could probably finesse a full twenty-thousand-kilo load out of any Imperial Depot; no questions asked. My 'creedos' are still current, and have a gagging order attached to them. Start working up a shopping list! I'll get the ship ready to fly!


TAG: Intervention