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

IC: Sal Brooks (Reserve Two) npc, Havoc Neb (Reserve One) npc, space near the Johnny Boy


For Sal it seemed like a blur since the Wookiee tech brothers within the hangar had sealed the X-Wing canopies, pulled the wheeled ladders from the sides of the identical snubships, and then given them a thumbs-up from a safe distance away, and then an internal tractor had picked up their ships and deposited them out of the square aperture in the hangar floor.

With his channel open, Sal overheard the Sullustian...Sullustan(?)...for a moment he couldn't remember what you called people from Sullust, then a still-flaming piece of starfighter wreckage glancing off his shields reminded the human Merc that now might not be the time for sentient identification practices.

"Combat Air Patrol from Reserve Flight," Neb's voice was transmitting, we have launched to provide assistance. "we'll take those Y-TIEs, if that's all right. Two, stay on my wing."

Brooks realised the end of the transmission was aimed at him, so hit button to respond. "Copy, One."

"Split S-foils into attack position."

A comforting whine came through the cockpit as the wings on either side split to separate out the four primary laser projectors.

With the Johnny Boy still upside-down, rtelative to the larger Munifex-class cruiser, the stars and sights arced overhead as Neb led them into a barrel roll to re-orient themselves to the pirate vessel, and took off after the TIE-finned privateer craft.

Tag: greyjedi125 (CAP command), anyone

 

Ooc- I'm traveling all over the U.S. Right now, currently in PA and working 12 hrs a day. I've not forgot, just no time for clear thoughts


Sent from my iPad using Tapatalk

 

IC: Evalynne Smith
Algor

If she'd been told six months ago that she'd end up stuck as a hostage in a bank robbery being conducted by pirates for force-knows-what reason, Evalynne wouldn't have believed the speaker.

Obviously, she would have been wrong.

She had just finished her transaction--closing the Algor account before her parents froze it and transferring it to another bank entirely--and was headed out to find a way off the planet when pirates came in through the door.

The first one grabbed her by the shoulder and shoved her to the wall. "Stay there, back to the wall, hands on your head," he snarled, his mouth tilted toward hers. Yep, definitely a pirate. His breath reeked of lum and he was altogether, well, less . . . hygienic by far than spacers she knew. Less charming, too.

Evalynne had wanted to shake his hand off her arm and show him that no one shoved her around, but she didn't want to risk the pirate using his blaster inside the bank. Especially since others--probably untrained in martial arts--were here as well. So she complied, watching the pirates guarding them carefully.

She didn't know what the Kessel they wanted and she didn't care. She just wanted to get out of this alive.

Others joined her against the wall--mothers with wide-eyed children, bankers in their fancy suits, people merely trying to do their jobs, trying to get an errand done before going home to their families. At least they had homes to go to. Still, they were scared. Evalynne was, too, could feel the fear coiled like a spring, but didn't let it release. It was like the moment before a swoop race--feel the fear, but use it to stay calm and stay smart. That's how you stayed alive in a swoop race. Maybe that would work here.

Then one of the pirates--a Devaronian--pulled one of the bank tellers to a group of pirates who'd just come through the door. The teller was the one who'd helped her. He'd introduced himself as Creksozok. He'd smiled and asked her what had led her to close her account and if the bank could do something to fix the problem before politely and efficiently handling the transaction. Apparently he'd been refusing to open the vault. Good for him. Even in their brief exchange, Evalynne could tell that he enjoyed his job, enjoyed doing the right thing.

The Devaronian shoved to the ground and challenged another person--a helmeted being whose armor looked like an altered version of the troopers standing outside--to prove themselves by shooting the teller.

"Please! Please!" the teller reasoned, "I have kids at home! A wife! Please don't do this!" as the pirates laughed.

She flinched as the being sent a bolt through the teller's skull. The mother standing next to her gasped and the child huddled beside her started to cry. The armored being knelt and ripped the teller's ID badge off. A voice emanated from underneath the helmet. “A memento of our time together,” the being said. “Now, let’s get that fraking vault open.”

This is not what she envisioned six months ago when she'd left school and talked Jasan's uncle into helping her escape. He'd tried to stop her, explained that running away didn't solve problems, only added to them, but she hadn't listened. She hadn't listened and now she was a hostage at a bank where the pirates were callously killing people.

How oh how was she going to get out of this? Preferably alive?

TAG: Intervention, galactic-vagabond422 (cause we might end up finding the Mercs together?)
OOG: I'm a bit out of practice, so I hope that did all right.

 

IC: Winterkill
Deep Space, Johnny Boy, CAP

Because of his past, Winterkill was not likely the sort of being to believe in something like ‘miracles’, much less that an R2 astro-mech droid could perform such a feat, but it seemed that ‘Ghast’ was guilty as charge, or rather, performing a close approximation.

Specter’s X-wing should have suffered a system shut-down long ago, but somehow, the R2 unit was outperforming his own programming, intercepting and even anticipating and preventing cascade failure. Winterkill did not know how long Ghast could keep this up, but he would resolved to maximize every moment before he became a standing target in space.

Edge had played her part well in luring the enemy tango away from Ace, which Scorch successfully managed to rescue, but the nagai’s X-wing still suffered from system lag and responsiveness issues. He’d chased the fleeing tango and managed to match its evasive maneuvers, but the star-fighters firing mechanisms hiccuped and spoiled his shots.

Cursing under his breath, the nagai returned to join Masha after he’d chased the lone tango to a ‘safe distance’. Now it couldn’t shoot at Ace and if it came back, it would be out numbered.

Sadly, that statistic changed drastically when he heard Ghast whistling frantically inside his cockpit.

“By the nine rings….”

Sensors identified the ship reverting to normal space far too close to the Johnny Boy as a Munifex-class light crusier, complete with its own CAP of about a dozen star-fighters.

“No rest for the wicked……”

The JB’s official CAP was comprised of only two star-fighters now that Ace was out of the picture. The Luck’s Gamble was serving multiple capacities. Standing orders for the CAP were still the same. If they weren’t fighting for their very lives before….

[Combat Air Patrol from Reserve Flight. We’ll take those Y-TIE’s if that’s all right. Two, stay on my wing.]

Winterkill looked at his sensors for confirmation and saw that Guardians 14 and 18 had joined the CAP. A thin smiled graced the nagai’s pale face briefly.

“I copy, Guardians 14 and 18. Hit them hard and cover each other. We’ll take the other six and join you asap.”

The odds were against them, 3-1…but to Winterkill, that was just combat incentive. Not to mention he already had an additional handicap with his fluctuating onboard system. It was only a matter of time before it all went dark. Best to make the most of it.

“Edge, lets hit them as hard as we can. Those Toscans have kill priority. We need to go at them at an angle they can’t fire back from.”

The enemy had a strong defensive formation, but mostly if they came at them head on.

So, were these pirates here to destroy the Mercs or something else? Seeing how they had previously fired torpedoes at the JB, ‘destroy’ was most likely their on their agenda.

[Reserves, let them make the first move. I advise we counter and exploit their weaknesses given our numbers. Copy?]

This was going be tricky.

No different from living nowadays.

Tag: @Heavy Isotope, @Intervention


Quick post. Short on time.

 

IC: Terrel Vacks
Algor


According to 'Passepartout', that ISD's squawking she's the Warrant, one of the new II-class. Probably still has the 'baby's cry' in her drives and the 'fresh paint' smell inside! No idea on who commands her, but it's now even more surprising that the Pirates attacked, whatever the potential prize; those ships bristle with weaponry! Impstar II-class design specs have been in 'Jaina's Fighting Ships' for over a year, and I'd be willing to bet that Pirates get hold of, and read, each issue as soon as it goes out! Any further thoughts yourself?"

Terrel shook his head, "Your right and it doesn't make sense. But whatever the prize, I'm not getting the feeling the Warrant is in direct play. Something, something---"

"Intelligence Flight, this is AADM Control. I am giving you a redirection at the highest levels of authority," the man's voice was no less cheerful then it had before, which made reading the man's motivates all that much more difficult, "There is a bank robbery in progress; I am sending you a data package with mission details now, as well as Stormtrooper communication channels. Civilian hostages in play, I repeat, civilian hostages in play. A Stormtrooper squad is on site, but is out-numbered and the offenders---we assume pirates---are playing chicken with the Stormtroopers. We cannot risk any civilian causalities. There are no other law enforcement or military units in the area that can assist in the bank robbery at the moment. Your mission is to redirect to the bank location immediately and assist Stormtrooper units as needed. Intelligence Flight, I am putting you in command of that operation. You have a unidentified VIP in the bank, whose current status is alive. Their identity must remain classified, but Stormtroopers are monitoring the VIP from a distance. Stop the robbery, save the civilians, and keep the VIP alive. And thank you for the sensor data, Garrison has forwarded us the information. Update with mission status in twenty minutes. AADM Control clear."


"Well," Terral said, "That explains our friend in AADM Control. He said your in control. Recon the area with a fly-by, then plan for insertion? Even with Stormtroopers, their merely holding down the pirates. If the Stormtroopers move, the pirates might start shooting the hostages. We'll need to do this quietly and probably by ourselves."


TAG Tim Battershell

---

IC: Rad (NPC pirate)
Algor, public landing pads outside the Imperial Base


“A memento of our time together,” Owen stood to his full height and looked at Rad, scowling under the helmet, “Now, let’s get that fraking vault open.”

The screaming and cries of the hostages were expected, if annoying.

"Well," Rad said, withdrawing a blaster pistol and pointing it at the back of one of his own pirates. He pulled the trigger and watched the pirate collapse face first to the floor with a blaster bolt to his back and his blaster rifle scattering along the floor, "Go take his share of the loot, guarding the hostages," Rad smiled, his teeth missing in areas and yellow and his breath smelled, "Pirate."

"Well," the Devaronian said, grabbing another bank teller, "Lets try this one!" the woman started kicking and screaming as the alien dragged her into the bank vault.

"If this teller doesn't work, I'm going to rig that vault door with every explosive we got and blow it! Those Stormtroopers aren't going to wait and look pretty all day!"

"And it'll be a waste of explosives and blow the building to bits and us in it! You idiot! Those bank vaults are build to keep people out---including explosives! You can hit one of those doors with a package of C4 and it'll put a dent in the door!"

"So, what's your brilliant idea!?" the Wookiee growled, not like being called an idiot.

Rad smiled, "You worry about keeping those Stormtroopers at bay. I'll worry about the logistics of this operation."

"You better have an idea, Rad. Because I'm not going to go down in a blaster fight with Imperials over a vault we can't even open!"


TAG galactic-vagabond422, Laine_Snowtrekker
OOG: I am assuming the pirate Rad shot was the one guarding Evalynne.

 

IC: Sal Brooks (Reserve Two), Havoc Neb (Reserve One), Commander Yavscout and Gunnery crew, X-Wings, and Johnny Boy
Location: near Draukyze


Sal made minor adjustments to his starfighter's course to keep it trailing close to the left s-foil of his flight partner, as they sped towards their selected targets.

"Shields up. Double front." Neb intoned.

Sal was there already, but responded as if he was only now obeying. "Copy."

Lieutenant Winterkill's voice came back over their shared comms: "I copy, Guardians 14 and 18. Hit them hard and cover each other. We’ll take the other six and join you asap."

Brooks frowned. At first he did not know how the Nagai knew which Guardians were flying which X-Wings, then glanced at his own boards, noticing that his flight computer had received an update. The Johnny Boy had somehow sent a general update to all friendlies on who was who.

He nodded to himself, pleased. You could miss this sort of background cooperation when you worked alone like he did.

"Copy, CAP Leader." Neb confirmed.

The instruments showed that the Johnny Boy and the enemy cruiser were closing distances on each other, although the corvette was at his back.

Quad-laser fire, clearly from the JB, struck at one of the TIE balls bearing the ion engine mounts your normally found on a Y-Wing, knocking one of them off.

The unfortunate fighter lost altitude, drawn back to the surface of the Munifex it was flying close to, making an elongated fireball as it ploughed into the larger vessel's shielded flanks.

Sal saw an opportunity, and veering away from his wing-mate to nose towards that rapidly dissipating fireball, fired two of his own torpedoes across space to strike at the hopefully weakened area of shielding.

"Reserve Two." Neb's voice sounded in his helmet, a bit slower than he had expected, "Pull in."

"Copy, One." He really should not have left his wing-mate's side, but the Sullustan was not making a deal of it yet.

The JB-provided tactical data showed Winterkill's ship rejoining them from where he had chased one of the tangos; that their EVA pilot had been picked up; and that three of the enemy starfighters had been destroyed, 3-1 to the Mercs.

"Reserves, let them make the first move. I advise we counter and exploit their weaknesses given our numbers. Copy."

Sal assumed this new instruction was Winterkill's rebuke to his move just now, so sent back, "Reserve Two copies."

"Reserve One copies. Two, slow to half, and keep your eyes open."

Sal nodded. "Copy. Complying." This was at least better than turning around and heading back to join the CAP, as that would leave their own behinds, shebs in Chief Taab's parlance, vulnerable to attack.

He could not see what had become of his two torps, and hoped they had at least struck home, and weakened the enemy's shields. It was too much to hope that they has penetrated to hit the actual hull, and that the pirates were ready to call a retreat.

He smiled at the thought, looking out the canopy for the glint of light that would show up the enemy starfighters against the blackness of space.

* * * *
Gunnery turret

Yavscout stood behind the two operators, wondering what he was doing here.

He had been about to tell them to concentrate their fire on one ship at a time, rather than their 'spray and pray' tactic across the noses of the two lead Toscans, but said Toscans were now fiery history, and his advice was stuck in his throat.

The second pair of Toscans had split to either side of the crimson death that had killed their squad-mates, though one looked like it had taken a glancing blow.

"Now look at that," Cleara, the young woman, her black hair tied back in a severe bun, said, "TIE Uglies with Y-Wing engines, and Y-Wing Uglies with TIE fins. If you have the components of each, why wouldn't you just rebuild the TIEs, and the Y-Wings."

Yav spotted an opportunity to prove why he was here. "Cut the chatter."

"Sorry sir," Mark Snow grunted as he hastily re-aimed the laser turret above them, to chase down the right-evading Toscan, stuttering red plasma fire in its wake, "that's just her process. Helps her be a better spotter."

Damn. The elf shrugged inwardly. He just could not catch a break. "Oh, alright. Chat away then."

Neither of them said anything at their minor victory.

Tag: Bravo, greyjedi125, Heavy Isotope

OOC: Unless I am mistaken, Bravo, Lasso has not yet told Yav of his role in in the plan he has explained to Dak and Beskaryc.

 

IC: Aidan Dodd
Blood Moon, Over 'Mucking Big Hole', Algor City - Cronese Mandate.

"Your right and it doesn't make sense. But whatever the prize, I'm not getting the feeling the Warrant is in direct play. Something, something---"; Terrel says with a shake of his head; then his words are cut off by an incoming Comm call;

"Intelligence Flight, this is AADM Control. I am giving you a redirection at the highest levels of authority, There is a bank robbery in progress; I am sending you a data package with mission details now, as well as Stormtrooper communication channels. Civilian hostages in play, I repeat, civilian hostages in play. A Stormtrooper squad is on site, but is out-numbered and the offenders---we assume pirates---are playing chicken with the Stormtroopers. We cannot risk any civilian causalities. There are no other law enforcement or military units in the area that can assist in the bank robbery at the moment. Your mission is to redirect to the bank location immediately and assist Stormtrooper units as needed. Intelligence Flight, I am putting you in command of that operation. You have a unidentified VIP in the bank, whose current status is alive. Their identity must remain classified, but Stormtroopers are monitoring the VIP from a distance. Stop the robbery, save the civilians, and keep the VIP alive. And thank you for the sensor data, Garrison has forwarded us the information. Update with mission status in twenty minutes. AADM Control clear."

Well, that's a turn-up for the books! The man's voice is not noticeably friendlier than before, but he's at least trash-canned the threats this time! Maybe the decision to act 'loyal Imperial' is paying off. If so, it'll be nice to have just one side actively seeking to engage us. Even if the Imperials can only be classed as neutral for now; that I can live with! I send a double-click over the Comm to indicate receipt and acknowledge the message.

"Well," Terrel says, "That explains our friend in AADM Control. He said your in control. Recon the area with a fly-by, then plan for insertion? Even with Stormtroopers, their merely holding down the pirates. If the Stormtroopers move, the pirates might start shooting the hostages. We'll need to do this quietly and probably by ourselves."

"Negative on the fly-by, Terrel, not yet, anyway. Want to keep the scumbags in the dark about our full capabilities as long as possible; we've got an 'Alsakan Army Knife' of a ship here, don't forget! If she is kept out of sight, a single blast from her main battery could easily be mistaken for misdirected fire from the overhead battle, no matter how much carnage it causes!

'Passepartout' any progress with that unlinking job?"

I don't really need to look at the screen for a translation, the mournful tone of his beep is clue enough that setting Blood Moon's main weapons to fire independently probably can't be done through reprogramming. Poor 'Passepartout'; he hates finding himself unable to carry out my wishes as much as I hate missing with a shot; starts him thinking he's turned obsolescent, and that's a terrible thought for any Droid!

"No real problem, old friend, might even help us! Check that data packet, please, match freqs and encryption with the Stormtroopers and see if schematics for the bank have been included. If so, put them up over Terrel's console."

A much happier chirp and the appearance of building plans over the other console announce that 'Passepartout' feels he's useful once more, as I decrease our altitude and set up to turn circles around Algor City's newest landmark. Time for the Comm again;

"Stormtrooper Lead, new Callsign A'den joining Net. For info, I did my 'Deuce-and-a-half' at Carida and wore the White on graduation; the Brass posted me off to other duties before I got to deploy. Full SITREP, please; own forces and hostiles. Best to use SALUTE for the assumed pirates, if split into groups. Also would appreciate Tac-visual from your 'Buckets', without painting the VIP."


TAG: Intervention (Vacks and Stormtrooper Lead)


OOC: (1): "'Alsakan Army Knife' of a ship" adapted from SeaQuest DSV - originally 'Swiss Army Knife'.

(2) SITREP = Situation Report.

(3) SALUTE = Acronym of Size, Activity, Location, Unit, Time, Equipment. Standard format for reporting enemy sightings - unknown or irrelevant parts are omitted.

 

IC: Stormtrooper CL-2-8-1-723-3 (Legion-regiment (battalion)-company-platoon-squad)
Anderson Street, across from Algor City Bank, Algor


...21:22 hours, Coruscant Standard Time
12th Sector Army, aka Cerulean Spear Command
Centares Legion, Imperial Stormtrooper 723rd Platoon
3rd Squad


The First Sergeant was looking through his Model TD2.3 electrobinoculars, situated behind sports-up hover vehicle as he crouched down behind it; the other members of his nine member squad were spread throughout the length of Anderson Street in front of the bank, using parked hover vehicles, the low waist high brick walls fronting the nice condos behind them, or like in Snipes' case, using one of the roof-tops of said condos as a vantage point on the bank. All together, his formation formed a semi-circle of shorts in front of the bank, his forces extending as far as possible to get visuals on the bank's flanks in between buildings on either side. Like any other major bank on Algor, the one story rose brick flat square shaped Algor City Bank (with a double door glass door entrance leading to a lobby before another double glass door entrance, four square street facing windows, and three side building facing windows on either side with a rear emergency exit door in the rear) was open twenty-four seven---granted with a reduced staff at night---to cater to the needs of the galactic community. The bank had a sidewalk in front of it, with two trees to either side of the main double doors. One bank security guard already lay in a pool of blood outside the bank, a nasty projectile weapon shot to the face the cause of death. Just inside the bank, after the lobby area, a security guard semi-circle disk was off to the left, another bank security guard dead behind the desk, his limp hand and part of his blue sleeve on his arm just visible beyond the edge of the desk in front of the door. A lobby area was to the right of the store's front, across from the security desk, where several chairs and tables were placed with magazines to read and a small snack area with water and coffee on a table for guests. To the left side of the front of the bank, behind the security desk, was a small kid play area built into the floor like a oval pool bed with no water, but filled with toys and a city map along it for race cars. Several chairs sat alongside the left wall for parents, with a tall plant in the left front window in the corner. In between the kid play area and banker cubicles further back was a open standing area lined with several automated teller machines.

Back from the front of the building, a open area with red roped guest lines lead to a series of bank teller stations along the right wall of the bank. Behind the teller lines was a series of banker offices and other open cubicles for other banker needs (the automated teller machines to the left and then the kids area to the front windows). The bank vault was in the far left corner of the bank on the other side of the cubicles, the bank manager's office with door and window looking out over the whole bank against the back wall to the right of the bank vault. Another bank security guard lay dead several feet in front of the bank vault, which was opened, at least the outer vault door leading to the inner vault. In the far right rear of the bank were refreshers and an employee break room. The rear emergency door was directly across from from the main front door in the rear of the bank between the bank manager's office and the refreshers / employee break room.

Hostages were lined up against the automated teller machines, their heads to the walls and their hands positioned over their heads. Three pirates armed with blaster rifles stood watch over the line of both civilians and bank tellers. In front of the bank windows, one pirate stood in each window looking out, while another pirate stood guard inside the bank lobby between the two front doors. One pirate stood guard at the back rear entrance door, while it was assumed three pirates were attempting to get the bank vault open.

CL-2-8-1-723-3 watched as a Twi'lek male was dragged in front of a new comer who had entered from the rear door with another pirate; the other pirates escorting him soon left. As the Staff Sergeant zoomed in on the muted conversation he could not hear, only watching body language, he watched as the new comer---dressed in a form of most likely black market Clone Trooper armor---pulled out a blaster pistol and shot the Twi'lek. Soon there after, the pirate who had lead the new comer in, pulled out a blaster pistol and shot one of the pirates, then said something, and the new comer went over to where the dead pirate was standing.

"Sith," the Staff Sergeant said over the squad communication channel, "One hostage dead. Bank manager. VIP still in play, along automated teller wall. No movement, briefcase still in hand."

Algor had no Stormtrooper units, so the 3rd squad from the 723rd Stormtrooper Squad was not from here. In fact, not even the Imperial Army Garrison had authority over them. Only AADM Control, a very specific ISB Officer in fact, knew of their arrival on planet. All military units were ordered to not interfere with the 723rd Stormtrooper unit. And all the better the Staff Sergeant figured, so they could get their mission out of Cerulean Spear Command.

They had been given a simple assignment, escort for a VIP who had arrived from Coruscant to Centares several days prior. No name, no rank, no record. Using a highly modified Lambda-class Shuttle, the Sergeant's squad had escorted this mysterious figure all around Cerulean Spear Command territory in his shuttle, with it's own shuttle crew who were as quiet as dead men. No questions were asked, only to obey and follow orders, from shuttle crew to Stormtroopers. So for days now, the Staff Sergeant's squad had been keeping safety tabs on this suit wearing VIP whom, in the Staff Sergeant's eyes, seemed quite capable of handling himself. But who was a Stormtrooper to question orders? The VIP had a direct comm link to the Stormtrooper squad, so if he wanted the Stormtroopers to intervene, all he would have to do was activate the distress signal and 3 squad would go in all guns blazing, civilian causlaties be sithed. All that mattered was the VIP.

And the briefcase. The VIP had only mentioned that the briefcase would have to stay in his possession, something about a direct data up-link to a Space Master Medium Transport in orbit. If the up-link was detected to be more then 20 meters from his body at any given point, a dead-man's switch would activated which would blow everything within 100 meters to atoms. Or if someone tried to open the briefcase without the proper password, the dead man's switch would be activated likewise and blow everything in 100 meters to atoms. Either way, that briefcase had come from Coruscant to Algor and for a very specific reason. Why this bank?

The Staff Sergeant didn't want those answers. It would make him sleep better at night by not knowing.

A new voice came over the Stormtrooper communications network.

"Stormtrooper Lead, new Callsign A'den joining Net. For info, I did my 'Deuce-and-a-half' at Carida and wore the White on graduation; the Brass posted me off to other duties before I got to deploy. Full SITREP, please; own forces and hostiles. Best to use SALUTE for the assumed pirates, if split into groups. Also would appreciate Tac-visual from your 'Buckets', without painting the VIP."

The new voice sounded like he knew a thing or two. Good. It would be nice working with someone knowledgeable.

"A'den, Lead CL-2-8-1-723-3. Welcome to the show. Friendly assets deployed across street, holding position and not engaging; four directly across, two to either extremes covering flanks, one on roof. Deployment length of twenty meters. Enemy tangos hold Algor City Bank with seventeen hostages held inside, including women and children. One civilian causality, bank manager; three bank guards all dead. VIP still in play. Salute; thirty tangos, hostile in target of bank vault and aware of friendly assets, but not of VIP. Twelve tangos inside bank, eighteen tangos holding rear, sides, and flank of bank; no roof-top tangos. Ten minutes on mission and counting. Tangos with small arms projectile and blaster rifles, no heavy weaponry. Bucket video feed all helmets, ni VIP, active. How copy traffic and video feed, A'den?"



TAG Tim Battershell, galactic-vagabond422 (if need be) Laine_Snowtrekker (if need be)

 

IC: Aidan Dodd
Blood Moon, Circling 'Mucking Big Hole', Algor City - Cronese Mandate.

"How copy traffic and video feed, A'den?" the brisk, professional soldier's voice finishes his transmission. Sergeant, or slightly better, I estimate. Quite probably a 'lifer', unless the fates are unkind to him. Non-Coms like him are the backbone of any Military organisation, a sensible Officer leaving day-to-day matters in the Non-Coms' capable hands - indeed; part of their job is to 'educate' ('train' is considered borderline insubordinate) just-commissioned Officers about how that branch of the Military does their job; the Officer Corps included!

Stormtrooper Lead, A'den." I reply; "Good clean copy! Good, sensible, deployment! Be advised three new assets coming into play. Modified Skipray Blastboat, two Laser Cannon, two Ion Cannon, Light Turbolaser, Tractor Beam plus Conc Missile Launcher with four. Break.... Navy Black-Ops Instructor, rank of Commander, one of the deadliest men I know; wearing Storm Commando Armour with brace of Westar Blaster Pistols in thigh holsters; sword across back. Armour bears symbol of '"Mercs'" terror group on chestplate; original owner is dead - long story! Break.... I'll be in Navy Spec-Ops Armour, belt-holstered DC-17 Blaster Pistol and probably carrying a DC-17m ICWS. Break.... If tango in old RepCom armour is the same one I saw arriving, I may be able to flip him into a fourth asset. If that is a genuine Katarn rig and not a repro knock-off, anything less than an E-Web won't touch him. Flipping him is our best option. Wait....Out, while I try." Now we stand much less chance of the Stormtrooper squad taking us for 'tangos' when we put in an on-scene appearance.

First, though, I instruct 'Passepartout' to 'ping' all the Republic Commando 'Bucket-to-Bucket' frequencies in his extensive data lists in the hope of a handshake. I've no idea how or when he acquires such data, unless it's a hobby to relieve electronic boredom while we're travelling or otherwise unoccupied. The ability to think and work at near-lightspeed would seem to have a major downside, as well as its readily appreciated advantages!

"Feel confident of taking down the Pirates, back of the bank, outside, Terrel?", I ask; "Shouldn't be that many of them guarding a mere fire-exit. Then keeping their flanking guards occupied? Take a few to think and mind the store, please, while I change into something more uncomfortable."

I quickly make my way to the bunkroom and change into my armour; a vital addition if I suspect I may have to engage in close-combat. Curse my total, and fatal, allergy to Bacta! Then I return to the cockpit.

Once more 'Passepartout' has delivered a pure sabacc! A newly assigned channel is blinking its selector-button on the Comm board.

"Skipray pilot here, young man. Saw you arrive. You don't belong with that type of slime, judging from your ship and kit. I'm very partial to the Deece, myself - the 'full house' option. The Blaster and Sniper bits of it see regular use, anti-armour at times, breaching grenade very occasionally, don't get much chance to use the PEP, unfortunately. Little call for it, doing what I do.

Seems to me we could help each other out here; and you could get some payback as a bonus. I know how that type of slime operate, keep beings in the dark until too late, pressure them to do something unforgivable to set the hook then use that hook to jerk them around for the rest of their lives.

You probably don't think it right now, but there is a way out. I'll tell you what I want upfront; a live prisoner who knows enough to let us trace these slime to their lairs and roll them, and their backers, up - a team leader, in other words - and your help in protecting the hostages. If that's a genuine Katarn rig you're wearing, you could play 'catch the bullets and bolts' until Mustafar freezes over!

No you don't know me, but my ID says 'Imperial Intelligence' so you can assume a fair amount of clout! The sort that can make things go away.

Don't do anything yet, but what say you?"


TAG: Intervention, galactic-vagabond422


OOC: (1) "Flip", "Flipping" = Intel-speak for reversing loyalties by persuasion or coercion. Process of so doing.

(2) "Handshake" = Electronic acknowledgement of 'on-line and ready-to-communicate' status requested by a 'Ping'.

 

IC: Owen Byrne
Algor City Bank

"Well," Rad said, withdrawing a blaster pistol and pointing it at the back of one of his own pirates. Owen knew what was coming next. He didn’t flinch when the inevitable shot rang out. "Go take his share of the loot, guarding the hostages," Rad paused to grin. His missing and yellowed teeth turned Owen’s stomach, almost as much as his breath when he said “Pirate.” Owen resisted his ingrained training to salute. He merely turned and marched to the spot where the now dead marauder once stood. At his post he looked left and right he was in the middle with a guard to each side of him.

He rubbed the name tag in his gloved left hand. It wasn’t engraved not that Owen could tell through the glove but, the light didn’t reflect off the small edges of the letters, most likely printed onto hard plastic. Creksozok was the name of the employee he killed. Owen mouthed it to himself burning the image of the Twi’lek’s face into his mind. He took stock of the hostages in front of him. Young woman, mother and son, the child still crying, his hands shook he was never allowed to cry as a child. ‘Sir’ would yell at him to toughen up and devise a hellish test. Owen wanted to tell the boy that it would be ok but, he couldn’t, he wouldn’t lie. More screaming, female this time, Owen watched as the Devaronian dragged another employee back to the vault. The mercenary put the ID into one of his belt pouches and gripped his Z-6 tight. If he heard another baster shot, he would act.

"Skipray pilot here, young man. Saw you arrive.” A voice said in his helmet. Owen deactivated his external speaker, flicking the switch with his teeth. The other being described his gear, in attempt to bond with Owen. “Seems to me we could help each other out here; and you could get some payback as a bonus. I know how that type of slime operate, keep beings in the dark until too late, pressure them to do something unforgivable to set the hook then use that hook to jerk them around for the rest of their lives.” Owen shifted his gaze to Creksozok’s body. “there is a way out.” He heard tuning back into the pilot’s speech. “I'll tell you what I want upfront; a live prisoner who knows enough to let us trace these slime to their lairs and roll them, and their backers, up - a team leader, in other words - and your help in protecting the hostages. If that's a genuine Katarn rig you're wearing, you could play 'catch the bullets and bolts' until Mustafar freezes over!” Owen focused in on Rad, still standing over the cooling body. “No you don't know me, but my ID says 'Imperial Intelligence' so you can assume a fair amount of clout!” Byrne’s heart skipped a beat, ‘Imperial Intelligence’, could mean two things, incompetent flexi pusher or the blackest kind of operator you could meet. Given his load out Owen opted for the latter. “The sort that can make things go away. Don't do anything yet, but what say you?" A sharp pain of guilt struck the young man. No matter who this man was nothing could remove the blood from Owen’s hands.

“I copy Skipray.” He said in hushed tones trying not to draw attention. “I have eyes on two HVTs, pirate leaders, one human, and one wookiee, location, approximately three meters from my current position. Third is a Devaronian presently in the vault antechamber with a hostage. My personal armament is a Z-6 rotary blaster, DC-17 hand blaster, and genuine Mark III Katarn armor.” He paused to note the blaster rifle at his feet. “What are your orders?”

TAG: Tim Battershell Intervention Laine_Snowtrekker

 

IC: Evalynne Smith
Algor, in the midst of a bank robbery

Oh great now they were killing each other.

That didn't bode well for their chances of surviving this.

Her arms were starting to burn from keeping them up for so long, but it wasn't a problem yet. She'd kept her arms up longer than that during dance auditions. She could see some of the other hostages' face; fear and worry were the prevalent emotions written across them. One of the well-dressed men, however, was stone-faced, as if he and the briefcase he held were impervious to the pirates' threats. Maybe he knew something the rest of them didn't. For example, she knew that her inactive blaster was safely ensconced in the backpack at her feet, but besides the surprise of having been let in the bank with it, knowing she had a blaster was useless. Easy to get to and activate, but not with her hands on her head. Besides, there was a kid in here.

Said child whimpered into his mother's skirt; he was trying to keep quiet but was scared into sniffly tears. She glanced down at him and tried to smile. There had to be a way out of this. There was no way that she left everything and everyone behind in order to end up dying in a bank on an Imperial-controlled world. And she couldn't just stand here and do nothing.

If she shifted slightly, she could see their new guard, all blurry in the plastisteel console of the automated teller machine in front of her. If he had his helmet off, she'd have a better chance of gauging whether or not she could risk speaking to him. Yes, he'd murdered Creksozok, but surely pirates had to do things they didn't enjoy, just as spacers like Jasan and his family did. They couldn't all be all bad, right?

In fact, he seemed a bit more distracted than their previous guard, his helmeted gaze shifting toward Creksozok's corpse and back again.

Well, nothing risked, nothing gained.

She took a deep breath and let it out. "Hey, mister," she said, trying to bank on the fact that many beings in the universe would still see her as a child. "What are you guys gonna do with us? We--I just want to go home."

Even if home were some non-specified location at present.

TAG: Intervention, galactic-vagabond422

 

IC: Jason Lasso
Bridge, Johnny Boy


Lasso didn't wait for Taab's response. Simply put, this was war. And you expected your crew to follow orders, even if they were soldiers of fortune, to survive and you gave orders even quicker to make sure everyone survived. The pirates' starfighters were already taking a licking, so Lasso knew logically what the next threat was and he would have to jump on before the pirate ship's superior shields and armor got in range and pounded a shiledless Johnny Boy to atoms.

Lasso hit the comm, "Major Jeth and Commander Yavscout, report to the hanger bay immediately. You have two minutes. Security Chief Taab will give you further instructions once there. Bridge out," Jason the turned to Dak, the only person---or machine---he could think of that could make the impossible possible with being in two places at once, "Make sure those H9 crews are hitting it right. They will need to be spot on for this to work."

"Yes, Captain," the droid left, first heading for the port side H9 turret.

Lasso looked out as the first lazily dropping long range weaponry fire from the pirate ship started to barely come within range of the Johnny Boy. For now, the shields and armor of the Johnny Boy could easily hold against weaponry fire that was barely hitting them due to range and, because of that range, only a handful of weapon choices could be used. Lasso looked over to the Chief Gunnery Officer, "Gunnery, return fire when appropriate."

"Yes, sir!" the officer said.


TAG Mitth_Fisto, Sith-I-5, Bardan_Jusik
OOG: Short, simply to transition characters.

 

IC: Yavscout, Johnny Boy H9 turbolaser turret
Location: near Draukyze


The elf was starting to feel like he was intruding. The two gunners knew what they were doing, and were doing a bang up job of keeping fighters and their missiles away from the ship.

Jase' voice came over the public address system.

"Major Jeth and Commander Yavscout, report to the hanger bay immediately. You have two minutes. Security Chief Taab will give you further instructions once there. Bridge out."

Yav leaned between the two gunners, a hand on both their chairs. "Guys, I've gotta run. It's been great."

"See you on the flipside." Cleara responded without looking, as the bright flash from the third Toscan that Mark's turret blasts had been chasing, exploding into a fireball.

Both crew-mates tried to high-five each other without looking, and instead messily half-slapped the sides of Yav's bucket, which he took as a further sign that he should depart.

Expression suddenly stoney, he turned from them and on the way to the steps leading down to Deck One's turbolifts, calling Deputy as he stepped into the waiting turbolift. "Deputy. Yav. Meet me in the hangar, immediately."

Of course, his astromech asked after the magic word.

"Now?" He smirked to himself at the droid's electronic harrumpff, and exitted on Deck Three, where there was, luckily, a pair of doors to the hangar directly opposite, with a B1 between them, with it's E-5 blast held across its metal brown chest.

A squeally metal-on-metal noise to the elf's left drew his gaze, to see a wheeled office-style chair speeding towards them, streaming faint grey smoke between them, and away to the right.

Yav and the security droid watched it go, careening round a corner on two wheels, and out of sight. The Commander frowned. "You saw that, right?"

"Roger roger, Commander."

He did not know where to go from there, till Deputy chimed in over his comlink that it was in the hangar already, where was he?

"Be there in a sec', Buddy." The droid must have already been on the move when it had been fishing for a 'please'.

He entered the hangar from the front, walking in under the raised catwalk where the Luck's Gamble docked before someone scraped it through the square aperture in the hangar floor.

He could see the Deputy's black torso and white dome next to their N-1 Naboo starfighter, the Tunare, whilst he himself looked around for the Mandalorian Security Chief that the Captain had said would be meeting him and Jeth.

The elf huffed in annoyance. If Taab wasn't here yet, then Yav would have had time to get to his cabin and grab his stormtrooper belt.

Actually, that was a bit premature. He had no idea yet why he was down here.

Tag: Bravo, Bardan_Jusik, Mitth_Fisto

 

IC: Beskaryc Taab
Hanger deck, Johnny Boy

His orders being pretty straightforward, Taab had no questions and made his way to the hanger deck. Once in the lift he thought over what he would have to do. Fuel pods were by their very nature designed to prevent the type of catastrophic failure that he was about to intentionally inflict upon one. Still, there wasn't a problem in the galaxy that couldn't be solves through the proper application of force. The Johnny Boy certainly had enough explosive on board to do the job that the Skipper wanted.

The lift doors opened and Taab was met by a relatively empty corridor. Most crewmembers were already at their stations. He had figured that two missile warheads should be enough to achieve the desired affect on the fuel pod, so he mentally doubled that and prepared to use the explosives from four warheads. If he had the time, he glanced warily at the chrono in his HUD. Time was ticking.

Making his way onto the hanger deck he was surprised by the lack of controlled chaos going on here. There had been numerous launches and recoveries in the past few minutes, as well as the refueling going on. By rights things should have been slightly off kilter here, but they weren't, at least not too badly. Behind his faceplate he raised an eyebrow in appreciation. That eyebrow dropped again as soon as he ran in Ler, who seemed none too pleased with the Skipper's plan.

"You must be happy about all this" the droid said simply, making its meaning clear. After all Taab was a Mandalorian, and Mandalorians liked explosions. The bigger the better. Taab ignored the quip though, now was the time for business. "I need four" he held up his right hand and displayed four fingers, "conc missiles stripped of their explosives, think the plane armorers can handles that?" He dropped his hand back to his side, resting it on his holstered Westar-34. "Quickly." Understanding that time was of the essence now, Ler moved off, issuing orders to the crew to get Taab the explosives required.

As it did so, Taab made his way to the fuel pod. Rapping it's exterior hull with his gauntlet he could "feel" the armor's thickness. The dull echo from it also demonstrated that it was still partially full. Taab began to hum slightly as explosive "strips" were brought to him. With the chrono in his HUD counting down he set to work wiring the explosives to the pod's outer hull. It was easy work, but it required the utmost in concentration. One misstep could result in setting off their new bomb aboard the Johnny Boy.

That would have been problematic, but not catastrophic for the ship (though the explosion would certainly kill Taab, which would be less than optimal). The fact of the matter was that while the fuel in the pod would create a rather spectacular looking explosion, it would be a "slow" explosion, no where near as damaging as what could occur with high yield, purpose built, explosives. Fuel generally just wasn't a good quality explosive when it came to such things. Quantity of course was a quality all of its own, and there was still a lot of fuel left. More than enough to accomplish the job the Skipper wanted done.

"That's four." Ler spoke, sliding the rest of the stripped down concussion warhead to him on a missile cart. Taab grunted and continued humming to himself. The components to wire the explosives to the pod were included in the warheads themselves, so it was smooth sailing now. There was no need for anything better than a simple fuse, one that would be set off by the Johnny Boy's guns. The explosives installed should be more than enough to not only rupture the pod, but ignite the contents inside. That resulting explosion would be able to pulverize the rest of the pod, turning it into a huge cloud of shrapnel and debris that could overwhelm the shields of the pirate ship and hopefully disable it as well.

That last part depended on how well maintained the pirate vessel was. Taab knew that some pirates kept their ship's meticulously maintained, almost a work of love. Disabling such a ship with this trick would prove difficult. But if these pirates were as ill-prepared (and maintained) as the Skipper thought them to be, then this should work beautifully. Should being the operative word in that sentence.

Taab stopped humming as his work was completed. He looked it over one last time, noting that Ler was also looking on with a critical "eye". "That should do the trick." He stood up now, and commed to the bridge. "The firecracker is ready to go Skip," he noted Yav who looked like he had just arrived and appeared to be looking for him.

Taab cut the comm channel and called out. "Over here Commander. The Skipper tell you what we're up to yet?" He paused, glancing around the hanger. "Where's the Major?"

TAG: Bravo, Sith-I-5, Mitth_Fisto

---

IC: Atin Taab
Speedy Trial

Atin was starting to get overwhelmed, he could feel it. First it was the unknown fighters, then the surprise that his buir (father) and Lasso had found aboard the wreck. Then it was a sudden search and rescue mission among not only the unknowns, but now a collection of incoming pirates as well. It was starting to be too much to handle and Atin could feel the panic rising within him.

"What do you need me to do?"

Atin clenched his fist. Totter hovering behind him wasn't helping matters. He snapped back. "Nothing, just sit down and shut up and let me get us out of this." He pushed the thorttle full forward now, dumping power from the weapons into the engines in order to pick up speed more quickly. Where was the CAP? He knew it was suposed to be out there covering him, but he saw no evidence of it. That meant he had to unshebs the area quickly. He called out to the Johnny Boy, "Home base, this is Scorch, I have the package and am inbound. Please advise."

TAG: Bravo (again), Heavy Isotope, greyjedi125

 

IC: Aidan Dodd
Blood Moon, Circling 'Mucking Big Hole', Algor City - Cronese Mandate.

"I copy Skipray....I have eyes on two HVTs, pirate leaders, one human, and one wookiee, location, approximately three meters from my current position. Third is a Devaronian presently in the vault antechamber with a hostage. My personal armament is a Z-6 rotary blaster, DC-17 hand blaster, and genuine Mark III Katarn armor....What are your orders?", comes a voice over the Comm. It sounds like that of a young adult from the timbre but it's being kept at low volume, as if he's afraid of being overheard. Back on Carida, Troopers who'd been trained by Troopers who'd actually worn the Katarn rig had gone around claiming one could have a blazing row over the Comm with another Trooper, or be listening to ear-shattering music, with no one any the wiser! Either the anecdotal tales were wrong or the lad doesn't understand the full capabilities of a Katarn rig yet. Not surprising if so, Katarn rigs stopped being used when the surviving Republic Commandos and Advanced Recon Commandos were merged into Vader's 501st Stormtrooper Legion just after the Empire was created.

Substantive, prime grade intelligence on the opposition already! Ops don't get much better than this - if they did the 'Shadow Game' wouldn't be worth the effort - but his suspected youth is troubling; the young are generally more-then-a-little idealistic and idealism can get people killed. As can mentioning to a chance-met stranger that one has something now considered to be a collectors item in one's possession - some collectors don't even stop at murder to feed their obsession; I know, I had to discreetly eliminate one of them; a full-blown Moff, no less! It usually takes a few near-misses with Death for an Operative to develop the necessary circumspection but the way he listed out his kit and asked me for 'orders' - not 'what do you want me to do' - indicates a possible Military background, maybe even Military service himself. Time will tell, but he needs to be settled down as much as possible and prepared for what may lie ahead.

"Orders will come later, friend, when we've got a plan together. Until then, do whatever you have to do to blend in and survive as best you can. If someone's killed right in front of you, do your best not to react. If you're handed a weapon and told to use it on someone, even a youngling, you're going to have to use it. Pretending to be a rotten shot with that type of weapon can help, if you haven't shown otherwise before. Guess what I'm trying to say is the information you can give the good guys will save lives in the long run. Every decision you make under circumstances like these almost always comes down to the least of all available evils; there's almost never an out-and-out 'good' option. It doesn't help with the nightmares, but it does make sure that that particular bunch of murderous scum reach the end of their careers as soon as practicably possible.".

Personally, I've never been afflicted with nightmares, or the insomnia that executioners are said to sometimes develop, but the rest of it's true enough. Except that 'the good guys' doesn't really apply to the Empire - but 'the a-little-less-evil-than-the-Pirates guys' would only confuse him!

"I've got to change channels and report we're in contact - also that you are definitely not a 'tango'. If I don't, there's a good chance you'd get shot at when what will happen does happen and I don't think either of us want that! Hang in there, I'll be back with you as soon as I possibly can. I know from experience just how it feels to be an undercover operative in the middle of a bunch of really bad guys; it helps if there's someone one can talk to covertly, without breaking cover. By the way, call me A'den for now; not my real name, just picked it for this situation, but then I'm a great believer in disposable names anyway!

I close that channel and re-open the previous one;

"Stormtrooper Lead, A'den.... Friendly contact established with RepCom-guy. Has identified three Pirate leaders inside bank, Human and Wookiee about three metres away from him, Devaronian in vault antechamber. I'm taking RepCom-guy off my 'tango' list, suggest you do too; the less firing there needs to be done around the hostages, the better. Command would probably like one or more of the Pirate leaders taken alive for interrogation, will try to get him to help with that - he's got a Z-6 Rotary Blaster, should cut any of them down to size in a hurry!

Thanks for the feeds, very useful! If the Commander agrees, I'll covertly drop him off a couple of blocks behind the back of the bank, let him make the final approach on foot. His task will be to eliminate the Pirates in that area and stop any moving into there from the flanks. Your flanking Troopers will assist in catching the flanking Pirates in a crossfire as well as stopping them replacing their casualties outside the front of the bank.

When the Commander indicates he's in position, I'll bring my ship in on a strafing run, using Turbolaser and Ion Cannons to sanitise the street and the front of the bank; idea is to skim the Turbolaser blast close enough to pop the windows and doors right out of their frames with the shock wave, as well as eliminating the street 'tangos'; the Ion Cannon should knock out the opposition's weapons, even if they don't do anything else. I then intend to perform a combat landing, during which time my ship's turret guns will be creating and/or enlarging access points in the front wall for you, the un-tasked members of your squad and myself. Enter and hit fast, hard and dirty using high-levels of precisely applied violence for maximum shock effect and confusion. Our new friend will hopefully, by then, have neutralised the two Command and Control Pirates that aren't occupied with other matters. Clear the outer area, then deal with the vault room. Flash-bangs would be helpful if any of your men are carrying them.

Comments, please, Gentlemen; normally I only have to plan for one!


TAG: Intervention, galactic-vagabond422


OOC: Plan inspired by the 1970 raid on Son Tay Prisoner of War Camp, Vietnam.

 

OOG: Hello Mates,

My character sheet was approved for Bravo. Here is it:

Name: Uriel Manteroni
Gender: Male
Age: 52
Species: Human
Home World: Coruscant
Affiliation: Independent

Personality
---Traits: sarcastic sense of humor, honorable, good-natured, fighting tactical specialist and a Ace of piloting.
---Likes: Capital Ships; starfighters, engineering, history, legends and relics.
---Dislikes: injustice
---Habits: flying for relaxation, relic hunter.

Appearance
---Skin Color: White
---Hair Color: grey
---Eye Color: Brown
---Clothing: Dark work coveralls, black work boots with durasteel toe.
---Other Attributes:
---Other Details:
---Weapons: Chiss dagger hidden in the back and two DY-225 undercover on belt.

Skills (NEW!!!)
---Primary Skill: Starfighter Piloting
---Secondary Skill: Capital Ship commander
---Life Experience:
Capital Ship Command
Martial Arts
Mechanic and engineering.

Education (NEW!!!)
---General Education:
Military academy of the Galactic Republic.
---Specialized Education:
Galactic Republic College of Command.

Flaws / Limitations (NEW!!!)
----Physical: Uriel is very sensitive to any dust. Starting sneezing nonstop.
----Mental: obsession with ancient relics.
---Emotional: Uriel ever have same dream: …
It is an immense plain … white … without boundaries … the horizon was formed for huge clouds … no mountains …
no stars … it was not day nor night …
It was not cold nor hot … the impression is that there was a state of … uncertainty.
Uriel walked did not know where he was going … then behind him:
Uriel! A ghostly voice screams!
Uriel turns and sees a huge reptilian being, with eyes of fire … had swords in hands …
Uriel remembers the legends … the stories he heard in childhood, youth, old age … was a Rakata! Bloodthirsty, murderous, evil …
Uriel runs!! The reptile runs after …
Then Uriel falls … is captured and the Rakata says:
You know too much Uriel! You Must die!
The moment one of the sword reaches the head of Uriel, then a flash
Uriel then Wake up...sweating.

---General: Because of the humiliation of having fallen from glory to illegality, Uriel has great facility to lose his rationality if your honor is reached.
---Character Critical Failure: Uriel is very much allergic to dust of Tatooine. This Tatooine's dust causes a strong allergic reaction that closes airways and it can kill him.

Starship
---Name: Vampire
---Class: Nssis-class Clawcraft with modified SFS ion engines (Rakata relic quantum accelerometers).
---Speed: 90MGLT
---Hull Rating: Upgraded
---Shields: Upgraded
---Ejection System: Escape pod equipped
---Life Support: yes
---Hyperdrive Class: 1.5
---Weapon(s): Four Sienar L-s7.2 laser cannon and various prohibited weapons and other concealed weapons.
---Crew: 1 Pilot.
---Passenger(s): 0
---Max Cargo (kg): 100 kg.
---Interior Description: Stock model.
---Other Details: Uriel had changed quite your Vampire, the main change was the replacement of the central computer system by Computer Quantum Processor (CQP). The latest technology in terms of artificial intelligence, the system was actually a quantum network nanoprocessors interconnected by graphs. These graphs had a configuration such that the processing capacity was exponentially higher than the best information systems in the galaxy. This enable transfinite deductions and calculations within the unknowable affective logic that in a way, it approached the "machine" to the biological brain of intelligent beings. In other words, almost a creative intelligence … very different reactions in comparison with common systems.

Biography
---Personal History:
v Uriel is a white man. With 1.8 meters tall and 85 kg weight. Brown hair. Athletic build and pleasing
appearance. Good face. Uriel was born in year 52 BBY.
v Had a happy childhood, with his father, a fighter pilot and his mother a weapons engineer.
v At 15 years ( 37 BBY) joined the military academy of the Galactic Republic and graduated fighter pilot at age 18.
v 20 years old ( 32 BBY) was sent to fight the enigmatic and covert battles of the Unknown Regions.
v He fought for 10 years in hell. Never before seen enemies, unknown breeds, ethereal and surreal beings, Uriel did secrets raids in Wild Space, where he had immense spiritual defeats! In these regions the real matter is not the only enemy.
v After excellent services was called back in 22 BBY for to fight in Clone War against Separatist. After end of Clone War in 19 BBY was accused of treason against the Galactic Empire because their republican ideology.
v Since then it has become an outlaw, an opportunistic mercenary ...

Release:
19 BBY:
First Officer: --Captain we are approaching the axis 321i for approach to Coruscant. What are your orders?

Uriel was in front of the bridge on the main window, watching the stars.

Uriel: - Send a message informing the main base our position and intention to continue the approach procedure for the Space Station of Maintenance. Ask permission to disarm the protection systems and ask them to send the tractor beam to dock us in the 321i axis . And give permission for the expert in berthing to take command of the Star Destroyer.

First officer:. Yes sir - First officer turns around and goes toward the control bridge.

Uriel was tired ... 13 years fighting ... yes ... it was long time. His exemplary performance outside. In full campaign rose from fighter pilot for wing commander! (many Star Destroyers!).This success led to jealousy, a very common feeling in Galactic Empire. That was the cause of the downfall of Uriel.

Uriel realizes his destroyer suffered a slight bump ... was the tractor beam of space station. Now the expert in berthing took command and begins to approach the warship for the Capital of the Galactic Empire, the gigantic space station, with its dock maintenance. Yes .. the mission of Uriel had ended.Uriel seriously thought to ask retirement, if he continued in Fleet, would certainly be promoted to General and they would send it as a prize to some peaceful region of Empire. Yes, this is certainly the fate of those who stand on the Unknown Regions. Only the best were sent to hell. But seldom they returned ... because ... they get crazy.

Uriel however not only returned, as the glory reached without going mad, now wanted to rest ... he thought about finding love, have children, maybe get instructor of pilots ... or suddenly to be a Military Academy Professor ... anyway ... dreams that would never come...

The intercom turns on the bridge and the Communications Officer talks:

- Captain Uriel! General Ishtaram want to talk to you.

Uriel: - You can open the channel Renan.

A few seconds pass and the official communication channel of the Fleet is active and one Pantorano appears. Strangely Uriel realizes it was an unofficial channel, was actually an encrypted message about another that was in the background. General Ishtaram was serious expression:

--- Greetings Uriel!. How was the trip?

Uriel instinctively realized that something very wrong was going to happen and responds: Very quiet General. Thanks for the question.

Ishtaram: Uriel! We have no time! Thanking you have saved my son! My duty to warn you. You should know!

Uriel froze! and said: Yes General! Thank you in advance for consideration! Say please!

Ishtaram: Uriel was a slander made against you! Since junior officers to generals. The head is Solun your partner! I suppose for envy, the fact is that when you land on Coruscant, they will arrest you and accuse of treason!!!

Uriel: WHAT!!!! BUT HOW??

Ishtaran : Mate! No time to explain! Just knowing that they intend to submit you at a life sentence! So warrior! Before reaching Coruscant , flee ! I read all the charges and they have irrefutable evidence! There is no defense for you. Escape! FAREWELL.

The message disappeared .

Uriel scared connects the internal communicator and calls the first officer. Uriel gives the order to prepare one Nssis-class Clawcraft fully loaded and armed. Uriel takes off and leaves the Star Destroyer as soon as out of the sphere of influence of the tractor beam, makes a turn of 150 degrees and passes skimming "their Destroyer", passes slowly wanted to see him right then accelerate to get away, configures the computer navigation for a target constellation, and connects hyperdrive, then the space-time tunnel it happen and Clawcraft jumps to infinity ... leaving behind a history of success and glory to enter the deeper world of out-of-law.

---Military History:

Uriel fought for 10 years in hell. Unknown Regions Wars (Yuuzhan Vong) before seen enemies, unknown breeds, ethereal and surreal beings, Uriel did secrets raids in Wild Space, where he had immense spiritual defeats! In these regions the real matter is not the only enemy, since Uriel have ever a symbolic weird dream:

Then Uriel sees the terrible black holes of Kessel sector (THE MAW) one of the forerunners these technologies
were actually que … including The Maw is a portal … but to where? No one knows … not even the Rakata Knew …
Imperfections of hyperspace from Unknown Regions are … nothing more than acts Them … they dark matter
dominated. ..

Rakatas … but … Also forerunners collars collars … the artifacts are not collars … but keys … keys are not
keys … but siphons … siphons are not collars but siphons and so the endless cycle never end … the fact is
unknown que Rakatas developed Their technology with rudimentary knowledge que They had from precursors
technologies, an infinitely powerful weapon … the whole galaxy succumb could …

Sill there is this weapon infinity … and is Deposited in the Rakata Relic … much coveted … everyone thought
it was only one there … but in fact were twin forces of darkness … that sucked … forged stars … stars … the
stars … but wanted the light forces to destroy it before evil win … but … there is another secret hidden … so
… that neither hidden Rakatas They Knew … unknown … myths written in forgotten worlds … in … Unknown Regions

Uriel did not know … siphons exhaust energy …

 

IC: Uriel Manteroni
Location: Algor, in street in front of main gate bank, leaning against a wall on the shadow.
Colors: Thought; speech; actions; NPC; IC.

Uriel watch on your datapad the images sent by your micro-spy droid!

Uriel sees when Devaronian kill the bank teller.

Ualll ... I do not like these horned humanoids !!

Uriel heard the conversation between Rad and his cronies, and realizes that things are getting out of control within the bank.

Yikes ... I came here just to negotiate a stellar map of THE MAW that Rad have. And now I am witnessing these crimes of this idiots pirates!
The problem is that if stormtroopers get, I lose the opportunity to buy the map, because Rad will not be alive to negotiate ... if pirates get sucess I lose the opportunity to buy the map too, because they will not go to the nearest bar to celebrate ...

Uriel is undecided, then:

Uriel touch their DY-225 and decides to join the party. Uriel gives a command to the micro-spy droid stay in standby, Uriel keeps the datapad in his corellian coat, crosses the street and enters the Bank, as if unsure of anything.

Upon entering, a pirate puts a blaster at the head of Uriel and takes him to the center of the bank hall.

Arriving Uriel shouted:
Hey Rad !!! Old friend !! Glad you find !!! I have a fabulous proposal for that star map of THE MAW !! But of course after you finish your business here !!

TAG: @galactic-vagabond422, @Tim Battershell, @Intervention, @Laine_Snowtrekker

 

IC: Havah Jeth
H-9 Turret Command, Johhny Boy

Walking into the H9 turret section the two inside glanced up at him. "Sir?" One asked quizically.

Unsnapping his helmets lower cover to breath the ships own air directly he simply nodded. "I am here to tell you to shoot." Nodding he paused for a moment.

"Shoot?" The other, spotter most likely and also a devout human of getting on years whose prosthetic eye was most likely was he was acting as spotter/ alt gunner asked.

"Oh. Yes. Shoot that enemy ship. And any others that come within range or when harrying shots might protect the CAP."

Pulling the trigger the younger blew an enemy fighter out of the sky that had come seeking cover from the other side of the ship. "Then why do we need you now?"

Shrugging as much as his cumbersome suit would allow pointed out at the enemy fighters in the distance. "Shoot!"

"Aye, aye sir!" They both shouted in unison and then laughed as they let loose more volleys of flaming death. It was not long until a comm message alerted him to report to the hanger.

"See how you shoot. Keep doing that and don't make me come back here." he added inbetween flung volleys of magnetically sealed technicolor streaks of death.

"Sure." the older one muttered, "Thanks for making it clear."

"Anytime." He muttered with a wave as he left to find that the lift had already left for the hanger. "Glad to know we have team unity." he muttered as he waited for the lift to arrive. Shortly he found himself in the hanger and made his way to swap out his life support vest for a new one with full tanks and batteries. No need to see whatever new crazy idea that Lasso had that would have him in the hanger but not in his ship nor apparently prepping to repel boarders. Once properly outfitted he found his way to the waiting ELF (Endangered Life Form) and the Mando. Who seemed to speaking about him as he came up from the side. "Here and confused. Hopefully Lasso has a better FUBAR (Fouled Up Beyond All Reason) plan than last time."

TAG: Bardan_Jusik, Sith-I-5, Bravo

 

IC: Masha Tinovorsh
CAP

"Thanks Edge, I owe you one."

Masha remained focused and silent, but he certainly did. She tried to push away her negative emotions, pushing the memory of the close call with Sal out of her head, now this. Hopefully the unknown craft was following her tail, she looked to her sensors, the plan was working! A few shots from Specter's X-wing flashed by at a distance from her, it seemed he was being careful not to hit her, which she appreciated. However, the enemy craft shortly broke pursuit and retreated, Masha made a sweeping turn while decelerating to tighten the maneuver and accelerated out after the apex; heading towards Ace and Scorch.

"Good work Spect -- " her sentence was cut short as she saw a flash of an unknown ship coming out of hyper space, the comm channels were already lighting up with traffic on the appearance of this, instead of switching to hear what was going on she awaited Winterkill's update.

"Edge, let's hit them as hard as we can. Those Toscans have kill priority. We need to go at them at an angle they can't fire back from."

"Edge copies, forming on your wing Specter, which ones are the Toscans... ?" Her inexperience always had a chance to show.... The pirates that raided Danoor were much more well equipped... Masha was always suspicious how they could be so well armed while she was in the academy and be maintain their continuous and somewhat successful attacks. The cadets were well versed with intel on how to repel and combat them in space during training, rarely were raids conducted by different ships.

Masha narrowed her eyes, clenching her jaw, and gripping the controls firmly.

TAGS: greyjedi125 (Winterkill), Bravo (Ace & Pirates), Sith-I-5 (Sal and Neb),

OOC: Thanks for bearing with me and all your well wishes, this was a fun post to write, gonna open up Masha's backstory more as we continue on. Especially during downtime aboard the JB.

 

IC: Aidan Dodd
Blood Moon, Circling 'Mucking Big Hole', Algor City - Cronese Mandate.

While there's still a little downtime, I run my bare-bones' plan through the Military acronym SMESSCS to check I haven't forgotten anything, and flag up what I still need to do;

Situation: Everyone involved now knows this - bank invasion/robbery attempt, hostages taken.

Mission: Take back bank, rescue hostages (unharmed), slot bad guys! The VIP and my wish for at least one Pirate leader to be taken alive for interrogation shouldn't complicate matters much.

Execution: I've already briefed my bare-bones plan. Added detail for the Stormtrooper Squad will come from Stormtrooper Lead, added detail for Vacks will come from him. I just have to add detail for Blood Moon's turret gunner and 'RepCom-guy' in the bank as to how I want their aspects of the mission handled. 'RepCom-guy' (I think it's a better description of him than Vacks' "Rambo" - whoever the kriff he's supposed to be; never heard of anyone called that before!) will get his final briefing at the very last minute. It's not that I think him treacherous, I don't, he seems perfectly genuine to me, just that what he doesn't know he can't accidentally reveal - plainclothes cops tend to give themselves away by continuing to stand and/or move as an armed man does: and otherwise sensible and well-trained Intelligence Officers can get so intoxicated with the fact they know things that others don't that they slip out of legend/character and draw attention to themselves. The results are better imagined than experienced - I've seen some of the corpses!

Service and Support: There's no outside support on this 'Op'; we're on our own! The only 'Service' part of it we're likely to need will come down to the Squad's Medic-trained Trooper(s).

Command: Vacks, 'RepCom-guy' and I will command ourselves. Stormtrooper Lead will command his squad, under me. Blood Moon will also be under my command. Things should happen too quickly for 'AADM Control' or anyone else to issue orders, even if they're minded to! As for commanding myself, I've already decided to take the centre-line down the bank, issuing a pair of aimed head-shot double-taps apiece (down on one knee if in the direction of the hostages, so any errant bolts will pass harmlessly, due to the firing-angle, over their 'innocent' heads and end their flight in the wall) to any armed Pirate still standing!

Signal: I instruct 'Passepartout' to act as a 'repeater' while I'm out of the ship; he'll monitor (and slightly delay) my transmissions, simultaneously sending them out for each intended recipient after the recipient list has been spoken, on the appropriate pre-established channel(s) and with the pre-established encryption (if any). I also instruct him to monitor and cache incoming messages for playing back to me, one-at-a-time, in order of urgency. Again, the action should be over too quickly for many words to be said! Suits me! It's a real pain being second-guessed by someone kilometres away from the scene! Semi-retired 'dinosaur' Officers are the worst; seemingly always wanting to replay their old Missions regardless that the times, techniques and available kit have changed since they last 'worked their sources'.

I then instruct my Turret-gunner B1 Droid that I plan to land parallel to the bank's front wall, roughly opposite the main entrance, port-side-to, from a shallow dive. He's to train the turret guns out over the port bow and eliminate the walling below each window aperture as the cannons come to bear. That should either bury any previously untouched front-window-guards in masonry, or vaporise them outright! The remaining force of the blasts should dissipate harmlessly (again due to the firing-angle) in the floor. After breaching the wall under the furthest (right-hand) window, and the ship having come to a stop, he is then to traverse left (the only time commands involving the words 'left' or 'right' are considered proper aboard ship) and fire deliberately just short of the bank's rear door and the Pirate guarding it, with the intention of knocking him off his feet (hopefully knocking him out) with the blast-effect, but without risking shooting through the rear door itself. He is then to keep that entry point under observation and eliminate any Pirates that seek to enter or exit.

I'm just 'finishing the chores' when..., What. The. Kriff?

A newcomer; Human and male, by the look of him: appears on the 'feeds, walks right up to the bank and inside! That he's promptly 'collared' by one of the guards means nothing - it could be a pre-prepared ploy. I'll keep eyes on him from now until we go in, but if he starts looking like a Pirate 'tango', and/or acting like one, he'll be treated like one and shot down on general principles!


TAG: Uriel Manteroni (welcome to the party, shouldn't be long until it 'warms up' nicely! , Intervention, galactic-vagabond422, Laine_Snowtrekker - just for information; otherwise No One.


OOC: (1) Sorry about posting frequency, a lot to describe and wanted to keep each post reasonably short.

(2): Acronym 'SMESSCS' - listed out in post - encountered in 'Clear and Present Danger' (Tom Clancy) and purported to be US Army field order format for a combat mission. Only one other reference found via Google - another military thriller in similar vein. Acronym looks/sounds legit to me. Perhaps Bardan_Jusik, or someone else with US Military experience, could confirm?

(3): 'Legend' = Intelligence-speak for Operative's cover-story/identity.

 

]IC: Priest
Location: "Base Camp," unknown planet


"Priest," Hawkins said, "These doors look shut. But..." Hawkins pointed his rifle down both corridors leading off in different directions, "Other check-points are down those two corridors, standing sentry at exit/entrance doors leading outside the temple. And neither of those check-points reported anything," Hawkins looked back the way the group had come from, "And nothing but offices and rooms we cleared earlier in the day. So, the question becomes," Hawkins turned to Priest, "Whatever attacked Andrews last night had to come through these doors or through a hidden passage way somewhere in this temple. But these doors," Hawkins turned back to them, "Something doesn't feel right and it's giving me the creeps. Does your gear have any equipment that can give us any hint or any information about these doors? Anything?"

Priest turned on his multi-spectrum analysis software and suddenly the entire area was bathed in different colors. The implant in his brain helped his cerebral cortex process the data as coherent thoughts and not just 'color-noise.'

"Lieutenant, this material is old. Really old. Impossibly old. These doors are made from a material not only inconsistent with any other mineral structure that we've come into contact so far, but the radioactive dating that I'm getting places its age as older than this particular planet 'should' be."

Priest thought for a moment. There were things that couldn't be measured or quantified. He remembered the philosophy and theology that he had studied. Just because something can't be quantified doesn't mean that it doesn't exist, or that it isn't real; merely that the observer lacks the vantage to understand what they are observing. He thought of the analogy of a fish within a fishbowl. The fishbowl represented reality as he knew it; however there was an entire universe outside of that fishbowl that the fish would never be able to interact with. In all intents and purposes, the fish's universe consisted merely of the bowl, the water, a little bit of gravel and the manna from heaven that he got once a day. But the reality was far beyond his comprehension. He turned and faced the Lieutenant.

"I don't know what is going on here. I see these doors and it makes my skin crawl. I don't know what Jedi felt when they encounter the Dark Side, but if I had my guess, this is what it is. And yet, I think we have to go in. I don't know why, but I just know that our entire purpose for being here...wherever we are, resides behind those doors. What do you think?"

tag Bravo

OOG: Thanks for your patience, I've been super busy at work. Next week I'm going to be in Colorado all week; hopefully I'll have some downtime to post.

 

IC: Evalynne Smith
Algor City Bank

Her guard hadn't yet answered her question; maybe he was deliberating whether or not to shoot her like he had Cresozok. Either way, it was like the early practices of a dance, before one's muscles gained the memory of the moves, pain in the holding pattern, stretching, aching.

And then some nerfherder comes strolling into the bank--as if there were stormtroopers outside, as if there weren't pirates inside. One of the pirates near the door put a blaster to the nerfherder's head and brought him over to where Evalynne and the rest of the hostages were.

And then the person had the audacity to shout, "Hey Rad !!! Old friend !! Glad you find !!! I have a fabulous proposal for that star map of THE MAW !! But of course after you finish your business here !!"

Seriously?

That nerfherder was going to get every one of them killed because they wanted to sell a map of the Maw. Granted, Jasan had told her stories about the Maw, the winding paths through black holes, the harrowing dangers of the Kessel Run, and how, if you were an extraordinarily good pilot, you might even be able to bend time and distance all at once. The only pilot Jasan had known about who'd done that was the infamous Han Solo, who supposedly had been one of the pilots who'd brought down the Death Star months before. He was quite the famous smuggler, apparently, and not bad on the eyes, either. Much like Jasan was to her. How she missed him.

She closed her eyes for a moment, wishing that she could be back home (or at least not stuck as a hostage in a bank), then reopened them and shifted her gaze back to her guard. If he had a conscience, maybe there could be a way for them all to get out.

Maybe.

TAG: galactic-vagabond422
OOG: I'm definitely just doing reactions at present, but at least that gives ya'll a bit of insight into my character.

 

"Hey, mister," The young woman in front of Owen said, or was she still a girl. Owen couldn’t be sure anymore. "What are you guys gonna do with us? We--I just want to go home."

“Keep quiet,” He barked after reactivating his speaker. He had given thought to striking her, nothing too hard just enough to scare her and to sell that he was still with the pirates. Then the Skipray pilot returned to his head.

"Orders will come later, friend, when we've got a plan together. Until then, do whatever you have to do to blend in and survive as best you can. If someone's killed right in front of you, do your best not to react. If you're handed a weapon and told to use it on someone, even a youngling, you're going to have to use it. Pretending to be a rotten shot with that type of weapon can help, if you haven't shown otherwise before.” Owen let out a heavy sigh, Skipray was right. He had to continue to act as bloodthirsty and cutthroat as the pirates around him to be of any use. “Guess what I'm trying to say is the information you can give the good guys will save lives in the long run. Every decision you make under circumstances like these almost always comes down to the least of all available evils; there's almost never an out-and-out 'good' option. It doesn't help with the nightmares, but it does make sure that that particular bunch of murderous scum reach the end of their careers as soon as practicably possible." The young man’s guilt lessened a bit, it seemed like whoever the other man was he knew what Owen was going through.

“Soldier” his father’s voice howled from a dark corner of his mind, “are you stupid, or a traitor. You’ve given valuable information to the enemy and for what, so that the Stormtroopers could kill these people when they take this place? You’re an idiot if you think this stranger is your friend, he has already admitted that he is Imperial Intelligence he will turn on you in an instant. He’s just using you, the second the stormies have control he will turn you over to them, or kill you right out.”

"I've got to change channels and report we're in contact - also that you are definitely not a 'tango'. If I don't, there's a good chance you'd get shot at when what will happen does happen and I don't think either of us want that!”

“Aw aint that sweet,” Owen’s father retorted “He wants you alive, most likely to torture you or put you in a cell, and you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.”

“Hang in there, I'll be back with you as soon as I possibly can. I know from experience just how it feels to be an undercover operative in the middle of a bunch of really bad guys; it helps if there's someone one can talk to covertly, without breaking cover. By the way, call me A'den for now; not my real name, just picked it for this situation, but then I'm a great believer in disposable names anyway!”

“Hear that moron. He gave you his name, not his real one but, a name nonetheless. So are you going to give him your real name or that cute nickname you use?” Owen screwed his eyes shut and looked for anything to silence ‘Sir’.

“I’ll come back,” a small voice called out, “I promise.” The voice was a reminder from ten years ago. His mind went back to that grassy hill and the falling star. A young girl was with him her long black hair getting caught in the wind and blowing into her eyes. He still remembers every moment of that glorious summer. His father was sent away for a three month training mission. Owen was left in the care of another drill instructor. His temporary guardian still expected regular physical conditioning but, was not as demanding his father. Over time he grew close to his caretaker’s daughter, Alicia, who was the same age as him. Any free moment he had he spent with her. She was kind, caring and, funny, everything little Owen wanted but, never received.

It was Owen’s last day with Alicia. They ran through the countryside, stopping on a hill that over looked the Academy. She sat down to catch her breath, he wasn’t even winded. Owen stared at the Stromtrooper Academy with a sense of duty. Part of him knew that his father was training him for that place.

“Something wrong?” She asked looking up.

“Nah, just wondering what it’ll be like when I’m there,” He answered pointing to the austere looking compound in the distance. She turned her face away from him. He knelt down. “I’m sorry, did I hurt you again?” he said sadness entering his voice. He had said many things that hurt Alicia over the summer, every time it was unintentional.

“Are you sure you want to be a Stormtrooper?” She continued to hide her face from him.

“Yeah, I mean that’s what Sir has been training me for,”

“Stromtroopers die Owen. They die and they leave people behind.” She turned to him, a single tear rolling down her cheek.

“I won’t die,” He said with childish bravado, “I’m too strong.” He flexed his twelve year old muscles. “See,” her demeanor didn’t change. He crinkled his nose trying to think of something to cheer her up. He held out his fist and extended his pinky. “When I become a Stromtrooper, I won’t leave you behind, I’ll come back.” She reluctantly locked her little finger around his, “I promise.” Owen took a deep breath his mind returning to the present. He was going to do whatever it took to survive. He had to fulfill that promise.

“Hey Rad !!!” A voice turned Owen’s head. An older human male was being escorted by another pirate “Old friend !! Glad you find !!! I have a fabulous proposal for that star map of THE MAW !! But of course after you finish your business here !!”

“A’den, you can call me Grim, have eyes on new contact, talking with pirate leader, appears friendly with them. Awaiting orders.”

TAG: Laine_Snowtrekker Tim Battershell Uriel Manteroni Intervention

 

IC: Evalynne Smith
Algor City Bank

"Keep quiet," the pirate said, his voice gruff through the helmet. His gloved hand twitched, as if its first instinct was to lash out and strike. Yet he didn't strike. That didn't mean much, but it meant something. He could still end up hitting her. She might be able to block it, but it would hurt either way.

"Oh, so Mister McShouty here can stroll in and start messing up whatever it is you're all doing, but I can't ask a question," she said, nodding. Evalynne continued to speak in a quiet tone: "I don't care about what sort of heist they're trying to pull or what your cut is supposed to be, I just wanna get out of this sithed bank. Preferably alive." And not noticed by authorities, but it's not like I'm gonna tell him that.

She gestured at the other hostages with an elbow. If her arms were hurting, the less athletic hostages were probably in more pain. "Because I don't know about the rest of us standing here, but my arms are starting to hurt, keeping them above my head like this." Some of the other hostages nodded. The bald man in a suit stayed placid. "So maybe we could get permission to at least put our arms down. If we keep our hands in sight, then we're still not a danger to your operation. I mean, there's a kid here," she said.

Her use of spacer words like heist, cut, and operation might end up tipping the pirate off to her spacer connections, but she had to risk that. Maybe he'd realize that there were more disguises than just armor. Sometimes it was an old nerfhide jacket and clean slacks and shirt. She'd dressed in her nicest outfit to fit into the bank, but maybe she was fitting in too well.

Evalynne kept her gaze steady on the pirate, though inwardly she was preparing herself to get hit. It would probably be worse than in sparring with Jasan's uncle; he'd probably mean to actually hurt her. But her days of letting things just be done to her were over; it's why she was in the blasted bank to begin with.

TAG: galactic-vagabond422

 

IC: Jason Lasso
Bridge, Johnny Boy


"Home base, this is Scorch, I have the package and am inbound. Please advise."

"Now!" Jason mumbled in frustration to himself as the Johnny Boy shook from a well targeted turbolaser blast as the pirate ship had decided to abandon its starfighter attack and engage directly as the cruiser approached boldly directly towards the JB.

Jason hit the comm button, "Johnny Boy to Scorch," the comm line was still static filled and not the best, but was getting betterish, "Approach from our port. We can cover you from there. Our starboard is taking a frontal attack. JB clear," Lasso looked out, "Status?"

"Shields are holding," a crew member said, "Thirty percent, starboard side. Another hit like that, though, Cap and your looking at ten percent."

Lasso reminded himself he needed to pick a sensors officer. Yav had given a recommended list to choose from before Craci Prime. A course, everything went to hell after Craci Prime.

Which gave Lasso a idea.

He hit the ship wide comm, "All crew and officers, this is the Captain speaking. I want to give you some encouragement to defeat this pirate scum. You just got paid, all of you, from a fresh, juicy, big, delicious contract. I, for one, don't plan on having dirty pirates taking my hard earned credits before I even have a chance to enjoy them. I'll be a dead man before I let a pirate take my credits and spend it on themselves. So, lets be clear about one thing: do you want a pirate drinking your credits away or do you want to be drinking your credits away? Bridge out."

Lasso smiled and hit a few more buttons and a song started to fill the corridors of the Johnny Boy on the ship-wide speakers:



"That should motivate them," Lasso said, grinning, then he barked, "Gunnery!" he fished a cigar out of his suit and stuck it in his mouth, lighting it, and then said with cigar in his mouth, "Give those pirates everything we got. The black flag, gentlemen," then he hit the comm, "Engineering, we need to close the distance. Give me something."

"All engines are online, Captain!" came Williams' labored voice, "No better timing, sweet loving marry! But I can only give you 40% from number three!"

"Forty percent, Chief Williams, is more then enough! Give me everything she has."

"Aye, Captain!"

The comm was cut and Jason looked out towards Helms, "Helm, full speed ahead!"



TAG Bardan_Jusik, Mitth_Fisto, Sith-I-5, Johnny Boy crew