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

Masha Tinovorsh
Deck Four, Delicate Delinquent

They came around the still bespoiled Atgar, yet another piece of technology for Atin to fawn over, but they didn't have the time. They arrived in the hanger bay a moment later and Atin pointed to their ship. "OK, there's the shuttle. Guess it's time to kick the tires and light the fires."

Masha looked over, "Right then," she slung her small duffel bag holding her pilot gear across her body, "I rather be in my fighter... " she said quietly before they boarded the shuttle. Wondering what will come next.... Remembering the many many times she simply sat and waited during training.

Tags: Bardan_Jusik, whomever else is boarding/operating the shuttle with us.

OOC: The internal dialogue isn't a slight against the GMs or other players, please don't interpret it that way.

 

Havah Jeth, Major Jeth
Deck in transit eighth to four

Waiting for the grunt was trying his patience, if he actually had any of the stuff left. To be honest he was just about ready to lean against the wall and lazily point a blaster down the hall just to pass the time when the guy finally showed up and pushed the button. Not that helped matters as the lift took its time in arriving.

Luckily the cannon fodder didn't try to make idle conversation. That was enough to pass a white wash on the situation, after all the guy may not even survive the upcoming mission if it went as sideways as some of this past years planned and unplanned missions had gone, especially the unplanned. . .which he was adding this to the category of as they were practically going in blind.

Well at least he was, until the ner'vod went and stepped into the shute with the two new comers. With a world, or ship, weary sigh he stepped into the slightly filled lift. Feeling for all the world like he should hug an internal wall to avoid a blaster spray when the doors opened on his idiots array inside. Actually if the Corellians did that he was not entirely sure if he wouldn't thank them so long as himself and Dak survived. "Don't forget to grab something for close quarters when the blaster runs out of tibana. Electrified if possible, vibro at a minimum." if the grunt couldn't understand that advice he would he would definitely have regrets of not having grabbed and squeezed a little earlier.

TAG: Bravo, Sith-I-5

 

IC: Long-range Sensor Operator Cath'in'Boots (Cathar), Director Peligro Raton (human), Level A1 (top of central module), Far Reach Orbital Station
Location: Florn System

"Multiple Star Destroyers de-cloaking at extreme range!"

Director Raton looked back sharply at the Cathar who had yelped out the startling update, across the control room. "Are you sure?" The director could feel the beginnings of a chest pain, and hoped it was the food.

"Yes, sir. Signals are clean. Nine vessels analogous to Imperial-class. They have us surrounded."

"Aaannddd, were you white before?" Raton stared at the alien operator, trying to remember how his subordinate normally looked.

"Am I now?"

"I'll take that as a 'No'." Raton returned his attention back to the wall of screens. "Step up to Alerto Roja."

Immediately, the control room lighting switched to a crimson tint, and alarms could be heard echoing outside in other corridors and on other levels.

"Director, we have several squadrons of TIE fighters and an unknown class of starfighter closing fast."

"Raise multi-phasic shielding, full strength."

"Yes, Director."

"Comms, patch me through to that big Jod ship, the Rush Hour."

Ana, the pony-tailed Corellian femme working at Communications, confirmed that she had an acknowledgment from the Vigourous-class cruiser.

"How is it going out there, Captain Jons?"

"My fighters have taken out one of the Death Spheres, and are going after one of the others. They report that the other three have been released by their Destroyers, and are enroute to you. It is vital that you do not let them make contact with your hull."

Given that they were being attacked with them, he had no intention of letting those globes get near, but that was on general principle. But he had to ask:
"What do they do?"

"The Spheres are holding Beast forces. On contact with your hull plates, they will immediately start to burn through, and upon penetration, Beast forces will invade your station. The Death Spheres are far from being your most serious threat, but neutralising them will help buy time for reinforcements to arrive."

"Okay, understood. Far Reach station, out." Raton gave the instruction to deploy their three Corellian Gunships, but with orders to stay close to the station.

Tag: Intervention

 

IC: Bridge Officer Bob, Kevin Shellwood, Corporal Dragan Stormane, Bridge, deck CT-6 and turbolift, respectively, Delicate Delinquent
Location: Florn star system


Bob was shaking the older "admiral's" hand, when the visitor asked, "Official Bob, what is the reason for my call to the bridge? I was initially sold on Team B to land on the space station, I believe that everyone is getting ready this time due to our approach the target. Is there any particular recommendation?"

Bob released the hand and raised a curious eyebrow, "Nobody told you? Your fleet experience has come to light, Sir. And despite that you were working for 'the other side', Commander Yavscout felt that your experience would be more useful on the Bridge, at least for our arrival into the Florn System. Are you okay with that?"

Behind him, a crewperson received an internal call that all gunnery stations were manned, ready, and locked down. The crewer acknowledged the report.

Another grey-haired individual, wearing a thick white jumper, and sitting at one of the stations much closer to the bridge windows from where Manteroni and Bob were standing, griped aloud that he wished someone had organised a rescue of this magnitude when he had been blockaded on Flitter, adding, "Damned Imperials."

There were murmurs of sympathy from others on the bridge, whilst Bob glanced momentarily at the speaker, then shook his head and gave Uriel his attention again.

* * * *
Turbolift

Dragan glanced uncomfortably at the mountain of blankets being carried by the protocol droid, and wondered how it saw to navigate, but he knew that it could, somehow, for it had navigated its way down the hallway without clouting the sides, which was more than he could have done with the same load.

There was so much in the droid's arms that he could not see the pale Merc who had left the imprint on Stormane's jawline, but he could sure hear him!

"Don't forget to grab something for close quarters when the blaster runs out of tibanna. Electrified if possible, vibro at a minimum."

Dragan rolled his eyes, knowing the soldier could not see him with the cloth-hill between them. Why was the abo giving him advice now, now that the lift was going down.

"The Armourer was handing out Class 4 grenades that look like little metal stylus. I grabbed a pocketful."

The droid interjected, its vocoder slightly muffled, by being pressed up against you-know-what, "That's, 'The Armourer was handing out Class 4 grenades that look like little metal stylus, Sir'. Spook is a Major."

"A Major?" The Corporal echoed, just as the lift stopped and the doors slid aside to show a slim blonde femme in an incongruous mix of silk gold outfit and a black anti-blast vest, waiting to the side. He nodded to her as he stepped out, "Miss."

He turned left and marched down the long corridor to the Hangar entrance, assuming the "Major" to be not far behind him
"What the hell happened to the Atgar?" He complained aloud upon seeing the violated laser cannon, it's entire side facing the hangar entrance covered in an uneven white shell like someone had come aboard with a surfeit of cake icing and thought that to should not go to waste. "Fragging vandals some people."

Tutting and shaking his head, he cradled the long-barrelled M-40 light repeater against his torso as he turned into the hangar, spying a knot of people standing beside an small shuttle.

There were three men in armour, a Mandalorian, one in white stormtrooper plates; and one in slightly-mismatched dark blue; a very young-looking female with shoulder-length black hair, and wearing a similar blast-vest to the femme by the lifts. She looked loaded for Beast, visibly packing E-5 and DC-15 blasters.

There was also the ship's resident Jedi Knight, standing slightly apart from the group.

"Green Team, I presume?" He called, striding confidently across the polished black decking towards them, in his Go Team blues, the gold armour points catching the light from the overhead lumis. "I am Corporal Dragan Stormane. Your new heavy weapon operator, even though we don't actually have any heavy weapons on board." He hefted the M-40, giving them a quick look. "This will have to do."

Tag: Mitth_Fisto, Uriel Manteroni, Laine_Snowtrekker, Bardan_Jusik, Tim Battershell, JFettG

 

IC: Uriel Manteroni
Bridge, Deck CT-6, Delicate Delinquent.
Thought, Speech, Action, NPC, PC
Music: http://www.vagalume.com.br/foo-fighters/best-of-you.html

Bob said:

Uriel froze inside !! He never expected this outcome. He was pale, almost in shock, his mouth open and eyes flashing. Only stammered: "y ... yea ... yeah it is okay ..." Uriel could not focus his thoughts, it was a lot of emotion! It was over 20 years since he had entered through on a bridge with status of Admiral!

Then Uriel was taken from his state of unconsciousness by the phrase of one of the officers:

Uriel shook his head and a rapid succession of images came into his mind: he flying a starfighter, he entering for the first time on a bridge as tactical officer of the fighters, YOUR first crew in a small cruiser and his promotion to admiral , the maximum commander of Dracul Fleet, with Flag Ship Dracul a Executor-class Star Dreadnought.

A transformation took place in Uriel, it as if by magic, back to their old ways of Admiral: serious, clear, efficient, pragmatic and reliable. A true high-ranking officer.

Uriel straightened yourself, puffed out his chest, look in the upper sight. Uriel took out his Corellian Jacket an old currency, an old badge, older than the Empire itself. A badge of Admiral of the Galactic Republic! Uriel put the badge on his chest toward the heart.

Transformation into Uriel was visible, her eyes shining, her skin flushed, his posture erect and dignified betrayed who he was, even with the old clothes he was wearing, Uriel inspired respect.

Uriel said: "Official Bob. Please make an operating status report of this warship." Uriel's voice was full of authority, Uriel continued: "Please, I want details of the mission: strategic and tactical plan of rescue. And the last report of intelligence about estimated potential of enemies."

Uriel looked at the men and women of the bridge and he continued: "Please I also want a small report about function, training and experience of all crew members with allocation on the bridge."

Uriel's look was pure fire! He felt again in his place and operational for combat!

TAG: Sith-I-5

 

IC: Aidan Dodd
Hangar Bay, Deck 4, Interdictor 418 Cruiser 'Delicate Delinquent'.

The Sullustan disappears into the shuttle after giving me a cheeky answer. Apparently he's our pilot. Just as well I'm trying to reform and get away from 'offing' every being that gets in my way, or he would have got something to remember me by! But if he makes the same mistake again, there'll be a creative 'accident' headed his way.

Only about half the elimination jobs I've done required evidence of assassination, the rest were classed as 'tragic and inexplicable events'. Such as 'shaken, not stirred', a safety-devices-disabled turbolift on max speed heading up and down as many floors as possible with no artificial gravity in the car; liberally repeated!. The subject slamming alternately into ceiling and floor while the ride lasts. It's a nice little variation on 'Turbo-pancake'! That one requires about two hundred floors for a certain kill.

A 'man-mountain' in blue and gold armour visually identical to Commander Yavscout's outfit approaches the group, a Light Repeating Blaster looking like a toy in his hands.

"Green Team, I presume?.... I am Corporal Dragan Stormane. Your new heavy weapon operator, even though we don't actually have any heavy weapons on board.". He presents an M-40 for our - primarily my - inspection. "This will have to do."

"Pleased to meet you, Corporal,"; I say; "I'm Snake, Green Team Leader. Actually, Green Team is you, me and Corporal Loretta, who's picked 'Lor Maker' as her callsign. Pick something snappy and easy to remember for yourself, please. If up to me, I'd be inclined to go for 'Dragon', but you get a free choice!

Job is to close-escort the evac' of one or more shipments of equipment. Civvies to be kept well away. Hopefully"; I cast an eye up and down his impressive height-above-deck; "your size will be enough of an extra deterrent, but look as fierce as possible, please. I'd prefer not to have to burn any Civvies down, but they don't need to know that!"


TAG: Sith-I-5, Laine_Snowtrekker, Bardan_Jusik, JFettG, Mitth_Fisto.

 

IC: Swifts
Hangar, Delicate Delinquent

Neb apparently wasn't having any of Snake's intimidating talk, just snarked back and stalked onto the shuttle. Everybody has different ways of dealing with other people's personalities.

Across the hangar, Swifts spotted Scorch and his group of . . . (could she call them friends?) friends enter the hangar. Scorch pointed at the shuttle and the group crossed the hangar. It was good to finally see someone who was on her team--or, well, the team she was on, it wasn't her team, per se--but that relief was quickly washed away by a sudden wave of 'what if I screw up and someone dies? what if I die?'. Then again, if the latter thing happened, she probably wouldn't have to worry about it. But that wasn't an option. It couldn't be an option. She wouldn't let it be an option.

Another person--a Jod, this time--joined the group. "Green Team, I presume? I am Corporal Dragan Stormane. Your new heavy weapon operator, even though we don't actually have any heavy weapons on board." He hefted a weapon that Swifts hadn't seen before, and glanced at them. "This will have to do."

"Pleased to meet you, Corporal," Aidan said. "I'm Snake, Green Team Leader. Actually, Green Team is you, me and Corporal Loretta, who's picked 'Lor Maker' as her callsign. Pick something snappy and easy to remember for yourself, please. If up to me, I'd be inclined to go for 'Dragon', but you get a free choice! Job is to close-escort the evac' of one or more shipments of equipment. Civvies to be kept well away. Hopefully" Aidan's helmeted head bobbed up and down as he surveyed the newcomer, "your size will be enough of an extra deterrent, but look as fierce as possible, please. I'd prefer not to have to burn any Civvies down, but they don't need to know that!"

Swifts was glad that someone had spoken to the newcomer; she'd guessed it would be Snake, and she'd been right. Besides, she wasn't necessarily feeling entirely charitable toward the Jod, what with the lack of intel and the clear doubt about her abilities that she could see practically emanating from them. Granted, that could be her own self-doubt creeping through but she was sure that was not the entire story.

She couldn't remember the color for her team, though. All she remembered was that Atin and the Major were her teammates and they were supposed to escort people back to the shuttle. Unfortunately, it probably wasn't going to be that easy. She couldn't necessarily put words to the feeling but as she thought that the words came to her:

I have a bad feeling about this.

Swifts wasn't sure where the feeling came from, but it was the same sickly feeling that came before certain swoop races--like the one that ended up with Lael's death. It wasn't just nervousness, though that was mixed into it. It was the kind of feeling that Jasan's uncle had told her to listen to, though, so she kept the feeling in the back of her mind rather than merely dismissing it.

She edged over toward Scorch. She wasn't sure exactly where to stand, or if she should board the shuttle, but she figured she'd be near her teammates and do what they did. Obviously she had a lot to learn and a lot to prove (and not only to herself).

TAG: Sith-I-5, Tim Battershell, Bardan_Jusik, etc

 

IC: Bridge Officer Bob, Pilot Officer Sal Brookes, Bridge, Deck CT-6; and Deck Four, respectively
Location: Toola


As liaison officer between the Kingdom of Jod and the outer galaxies, Bob was able to recognise a large number of insignia, and with barely a second's hesitation, he recognised the Republic Navy badge that Uriel slapped to his own chest, his stature seeming to grow with the action.

Uriel said: "Official Bob. Please make an operating status report of this warship." Uriel's voice was full of authority, Uriel continued: "Please, I want details of the mission: strategic and tactical plan of rescue. And the last report of intelligence about estimated potential of enemies."

Uriel looked at the men and women of the bridge and he continued: "Please I also want a small report about function, training and experience of all crew members with allocation on the bridge."

Bob chose his words carefully, not wanting to give offense. "Admiral, with respect, we are not placing you in charge of this operation. That still falls to Commander Yavscout, and then myself. Though we accept your title, you are here as a consultant and observer only, at this time." He hoped to convey that the situation might change. "I can give you the operating status, but first, the Organisation have given us no better a briefing than they have given you. They know they will be attacked and over-run, but cannot or won't say by whom, or how the assault will manifest itself. The Commander wants us to jump to the edge of the Florn system, take a look see, then go from there. And that is where your knowledge might be of assistance."

Bob paused. "If you follow me to my command chair, we can look at the ship' status hologram together."

He turned and moved back to the high-backed seat in the centre of the deck, climbing backwards up one step and sitting on the black synthleather.

His left hand started hitting buttons and toggles on the left armrest to bring up the ship stats.

* * * *
Deck Four, by the lifts

Sal Brookes' exit from the lifts was stalled momentarily by the encumbered Dak stopping just outside the doors for some reason, and the pilot had to squeeze between the droid and the gap that the doors had retracted into, pulling his handheld helmet after him.

He sighed aloud, but did not question the most senior droid within the Mercs, and trotted off down the corridor to the Main Hangar, passing a couple of the DD crew on the way, and finding an R2 unit with lime and pink panels in his path.

Sal stepped to the right, and it adjusted its course slightly to match his move. The pair repeated the dance before it dawned on the pilot.

"Oh right, your with me, huh?"

The thing blooped an affirmative.

"Okay, I will name you 'Fancy'." He stepped past it to continue on his way, the astromech spinning on the spot to roll into place beside him, keeping up.

It whistled an interrogative.

"Oh, after Fornax Fancies, a type of small iced cake, pack of six. They come in different colours, including your two, pink and light green."

He turned in to the hangar, and eyed the two X-Wing starfighters waiting for him and...

Mm, wonder where that Cradmoon girl is? And if I am not flying with her, who?


Tag: Uriel Manteroni

 

IC: Atin Taab
Hanger bay, deck four, Delicate Delinquent

"I rather be in my fighter... " Atin grinned and nodded along to Masha's statement. He didn't mind the grunt work, fact was he rather enjoyed it, but he could certainly see where she was coming from. She wasn't even assigned a "fun" job on this op, she was here for her slicing skills, so it wasn't like she could look forward to the excitement of impending combat. he shrugged, he supposed he really shouldn't either, this was supposed to be a simple grab and extract type mission, but his buir (father) said those blue milk runs were the missions that usually turned out to be the most exciting. From his own rather limited experience Atin couldn't dispute that belief.

Some others arrived now, beings that Atin didn't know but who soon introduced themselves. The new "heavy weapon's operator" looked like someone who would be good in a fight, but he had been assigned to the other team. The assignment made Atin even more uneasy about the coming op. Non-specific orders, not enough (and probably bad) intel, new members being assigned at the last moment. How were they supposed to plan anything if they didn't know anything, and the little they did know kept getting changed? He sighed inwardly. His father would tell him it didn't matter, that the plan never lasted passed contact with the enemy anyway. He had to learn to improvise, adapt and overcome. It was proving to be the hardest lesson for the young Mandalorian to learn.

Atin felt Swifts edging in closer to him a little, this was her first real op, she was probably feeling even more nervous about it than he was. He glanced over at her and borrowed yet another of his father's many lines spoken to him over the years. "You ready?" He asked before adding. "You look ready."

TAG: Sith-I-5, Laine_Snowtrekker, Heavy Isotope, Mitth_Fisto, Tim Battershell, JFettG, anyone else i might have missed.

OOC: The "you look ready" bit borrowed from the movie Dredd

 

IC: Uriel Manteroni
Bridge, Deck CT-6, Delicate Delinquent.
Thought, Speech, Action, NPC, PC

Uriel nodded and said seriously: "I understand. I hope I can help." Something changed in Uriel, something deep in his soul. He felt yourself an admiral again. And an admiral does not have to prove anything to anyone, he just is.

Bob:

Uriel looked deeply to Bob: "I understand. A shot in the dark. Well ... if it comforts you boy, I've participated in many actions like this."

Uriel: "Yes Thanks."

Bob sat in his command chair in the center of the deck and activated systems. Uriel stood beside the officer, assessing the warship, asking about systems, level of charges, powers, shields, defensive and offensive weapons.

In end of briefing Uriel said: "Tell me one thing official Bob. The gravity well projectors ... 'Uriel made a pause ... "The famous and ancient Centerpoint Station of the Celestials ... are also colossal projectors of artificial gravity well, do you knew ...? " Uriel looked deeply into Bob's eyes. Does this kid know what I mean? Uriel took his Corellian Jacket your datapad, he was going to show something really interesting to Bob.

TAG: @Sith-I-5

 

IC: Swifts
Near shuttle ramp, Hangar, Delicate Delinquent

"You ready?" Scorch asked.

No, no, she wasn't. At least, Swifts didn't feel as if she were ready. She certainly felt a bit out of place with all these armored beings who carried weapons as if they were extensions of themselves. She wasn't to that point, not yet anyway, and only time--or luck, Jasan would say--would tell if she'd get to reach that point.

But Swifts wasn't sure if she could ever be truly ready, especially without knowing what could be ahead of them. With no experience to bolster or back up her feelings, she was at a loss as to how to answer her teammate. And even if she did know what was ahead--how she would react, what could happen, what could go wrong--she knew she'd still be nervous. Even if she were as ferocious as Mary or as trained as Atin or as casually lethal as Aidan.

What was she? And what did the future hold? She didn't know the answer to either question, but she wanted to find out. She also wanted to reach her nameday, which was, by her reckoning, only a few weeks off. So, one thing at a time.

Then Scorch added, "You look ready."

Swifts smiled, just a little. Even if it were a bald-faced lie meant to encourage (which she didn't know if it were or not, maybe she did look ready), his words did their job readily. "You think so?" Swifts asked. "I'm glad they were able to be get me this Deece--" She knew that he'd probably spotted the weapon already, but she still gestured at it. "But Snake advised me to keep the E-5 just in case. Besides, I have to return it to the security chief when we get back, it would be irresponsible to toss away hardware."

If we get back, her mind whispered.

"Do anything interesting while we were traveling?" she asked, wondering if they had to wait for the major to get onboard, if there was a particular place they were supposed to sit, and if there was any way she would have been able to know all these things before finding herself in the midst of them. Yes, she'd been thrown in the metaphorical deep end, and she was paddling furiously to keep afloat, but she'd never been in any kind of military unit before. How was she supposed to know how they functioned?

TAG: Bardan_Jusik, others

 

Masha Tinovorsh
Hangar, Deck four, Delicate Delinquent

"You look ready."

Masha drifted from her thoughts at Atin's words. She looked over slightly before sitting on the ramp and facing the group that gathered; making sure her carbine was pointed away from anyone on deck, "You think so?" Swifts, the other new girl, asked. Oh, I know how you feel, Masha thought. Swifts talked a bit more, Masha only half listened as she reached into her jacket for her new vice, a somewhat rare item called a phantom cigar; attempting to ditch tabacc and get more control over her compulsions. Taking a drag, her attention came back to the conversation.

"Do anything interesting while we were traveling?"

Masha guessed the question was directed at Atin, as she herself wasn't paying close attention, or talking... And seeing as how her mind had been elsewhere since the Craci mission, the few crewmates she was close to would be well aware of her absence. Here she was, just going through the motions once again as the smokey vapor dissipated above her head, clouding her face slightly. She looked around the hangar and let out a heavy but quiet sigh, she didn't even notice how many other new Mercs there were besides her, until now.

"Not a whole lot we can do being stuck on a ship, but we manage," she said finally, keeping her flat tone and straight face. "At least we aren't getting shakedowns from the command every week," she gave a quick and subtle smirk to Atin, he of all people would know what she meant by that, maybe...

Before Swifts was likely to notice, she went back to her straight face, despite her being still quite new to the outfit, Masha had changed quite a bit. Still not saying much, but not sounding so nervous and official when she did decide to talk.

Tags: Bardan_Jusik, Laine_Snowtrekker

OOC: So because I don't want to seem like I'm promoting tobacco use in the game anymore, I'm just going to spin off the idea of the phantom cigars from MGS V, seems like it would be less of a nuisance to other actual characters but still be somewhat dramatic as seen there.

Also, Laine, for your reference here's my character sheet. I took a look at yours so I'm not getting the wrong picture of Swifts. Masha's just in her regular clothing, as pictured in the CS, no combat armor or flightsuit.

 

OOC: As well as character sheets, you can check pages 59-60 to see if anyone dressed differently for this mission.

 

IC: Nurse Cunnings, Dak, Mary Formal, Deck Four, forward compartment, Delicate Delinquent
Location: Toola


The nurse placed her blankets, and as she stood back to observe with her hands on her hips, noted that her companion was finishing up his collection.

“Yes ‘mam, part of my training with my…” his voice trailed off, for such a long time that she thought he was not going to say anything else. “squad at the Academy.” He continued on his work letting silence take over the conversation. After a bit he enquired, “What about you ‘mam, you have skills beyond nursing?”

"Me? I'm just a nurse. I joined a shooting course run by Commander Streets, once, as all the Mercs need to be able to defend themselves and the ship; plus the Security Chief put everyone through a refresher course, but in the main my skills are only in the medical field. Anyway-" She paused and looked round as the blast door behind them hummed open, Dak came through, though she had no idea how he was able to navigate around the huge hill of blankets in his arms.

He got several metres closer, then dumped the whole lolt onto the deck with a woomp.

"Whoa, great job, Dak." She said, pleased. She would not be surprised if the load that the droid had brought, meant thaat they had the thirty places that they had decided to go with.

"Thank you." The droid acknowledged, turning stiffly back to the doorway, where she could see the Merc' pilot, Mary, standing. "Ooh, my gyros are going to feel that in the morning." He walked back to the entrance. "Alright, hand over the data chip, and I will take it to the Commander."

"Okay, as I was saying," She turned to Owen and pointed beyond the towering http://i1004.photobucket.com/albums/af162/yavin1pics/ddshieldgen_zps8e454dd5.jpg]shield[/url] generators. "Those spaces over there, lead up to little-used entrances to upper decks. I'm likely to be busy, but I would like you to try to keep an eye out and make sure none of our patients try to sneak off."

* * * *
Main Hangar

Mary walked alone into the hangar to find a knot of Mercs standing by the shuttle's flanks, and hoped they weren't waiting for her.

There was a long-haired guy in blue-and-gold standing alongside Snake, and oh yes, another guy in an archaic-looking blue armour.

She arrived before them, twisted her bag over her shoulder to drop it onto the deck before her, then straightened and put her arms out and leaned back with the enormity of her update. "Okay guys, I'm not sure if this is a word here," As opposed to back on Cifre. "but newsflash...., Agent Alpha is a fragging cyborg!"

Tag: Laine Snowtrekker, Heavy Isotope, Tim Battershell, Bardan_Jusik, galactic-vagabond422

 

IC: Aidan Dodd
Hangar Bay, Deck 4, Interdictor 418 Cruiser 'Delicate Delinquent'.

'Slit-dress lady' joins our group by the shuttle and drops a bag to the deck. "Okay guys, I'm not sure if this is a word here.... but newsflash...., Agent Alpha is a fragging cyborg!", she declaims with a theatrical flourish.

"Lot of that going around,"; I reply; "Especially after the Clone Wars. There are even Droids, so I'm told, that can't readily be distinguished from organic beings. Then we've got cultures that have a thing for enhancing themselves with various kinds of implants. Question is, where does one draw the line?"

The other question is, how does 'Slit-dress lady' not know those things? She must have led a very sheltered existence. Or is she just prejudiced against part-mechanicals, no matter how they became so?


TAG: Sith-I-5, Laine_Snowtrekker, Bardan_Jusik, JFettG, Mitth_Fisto, Heavy Isotope.

 

IC: Elias Task
Hangar 4, Delicate Delinquent

Task wasn't in the hangar for more than 30 seconds before he heard a voice.

"Hey there, Elias Task is it?" Johmer rested a finger on his own tan-coloured jedi tunic. "Knight Johmer Evanson, temporary deck officer. You are assigned to the nearer of the two X-Wings over there." He pointed to the long-nosed snubship parked nearer to the invisible magnetic containment shield. "Do you need an astromech?"

Elias surveyed the man. It wasn't everyday that he came face to face with a jedi. Even in his smuggling days he very rarely saw any, and even then he couldn't be certain that they were indeed jedi and not some nutjob that decided to throw on some swords and act like they have mystical powers. Task extended his hand.

"Yes, sir. Elias Task reporting for duty." The jedi shook Task's hand in return. "I'll take you up on that offer for an astromech. I was unable to bring my own. Long story short, smuggling jobs are an easy way to go through a handful of astromechs. X-Wing, huh? Never flown one before, always wanted to. Who says dreams don't come true?"

Elias could see a faint smile come across the jedi's face after the remark. I'm fairly certain that the Delicate Delinquent holds the record in the entire galaxy for the most jedis in one spot. Lucky that Emperor and good old bucket head Vader are already preoccupied, otherwise this place would be wiped off the map by a fleet of Star Destroyers.

As the two men walked towards the X-Wing that had been assigned to Task, the former smuggler couldn't help himself from picking the brain of a jedi. "So tell me, Mr. Evanson, how is it that you remain so calm even though your kind is hunted, considering they were all supposed to be wiped out after the initiation of Order 66? I don't mean to sound crude or inconsiderate here, I have no issues with the Jedi being here, I'm just curious why you continue to go around in the normal garb as well. Surely it would be easier to dress in less auspicious clothing and still remain a part of the Jedi?"

Task knew his questions might be out of line, but he didn't care. He had been on this rig for weeks now and he had barely been spoken to. This was one of the most eclectic group of mercenaries he had ever encountered and if he was able to get some answers as to how they came about, he sure as hell was going to get it. When he was smuggling, Task had a crew of three, sometimes four, which included himself, a navigation droid, and deckmate that doubled as a co-pilot. Small crews made it easier to get out of trouble, it provided him with less worrying when a job went sideways, and even more brutal it made it easier that nobody grew attached to one another when tragedy inevitably struck. The job is he most important thing. Always focus on the mission. Memorize all the details. Connect with it. In this business there are no friends just co-scoundrels. That mantra was a saying Elias used to tell his crew members. He made sure it was driven into their minds and that they never forgot it. It was not only a mantra for his crew, but an excuse for him not to get close to anyone. It had worked for a number of years until a younger deckmate came aboard, much like Elias did in his teenage years, and was killed only a few feet away from the smuggling captain. Just hold on kid, we're getting out of this.

Tag: @Sith-I-5

 

IC: Swifts
Hangar, Delicate Delinquent

"Not a whole lot we can do being stuck on a ship, but we manage," another Merc, with shaggy red hair and some type of device that was pretending to be a cigar, a Merc that Swifts didn't know, replied to her question, keeping her tone and face blank. Swifts wasn't sure if she was being honest, wry, or merely sarcastic--she didn't know her, after all. And what if something almost exciting had happened to Scorch and the others while they played with pins and had shooting practice and watched Owen have a meltdown. She hoped it wasn't another sentient chair, though.. "At least we aren't getting shakedowns from the command every week."

What was a shakedown? Whatever it was, it didn't sound pleasant. Swifts was going to ask for an explanation when Mary--the lady who'd shot the afore-remembered chair--joined the group and dropped her bag on the floor. "Okay guys, I'm not sure if this is a word here.... but newsflash...., Agent Alpha is a fragging cyborg!"

A cyborg? Like, in the holos? But those cyborgs in those stories were usually those ruthlessly taken out by the Jedi. For example, the story of the valiant military leader assassinated by a leading member of the Jedi Council. That scenario had filled at least half a dozen holos that she was aware of. Swifts didn't know if the holos had any truth to them; the Empire wasn't trustworthy enough to depend what it said about what came before. All Evalynne had known was the Empire; born a few years after Empire Day, she'd grown up in a mostly Imperial environment. Anything she'd learned about the Republic, or the Jedi, had come from whispered stories and rumors and Imperially sanctioned textbooks. It would be wonderful to learn the truths for herself.

But, still, a cyborg. Didn't that mean that he'd be nearly unstoppable if he decided to turn against them? Was he a cyborg by choice? Necessity? Coercion? Swifts didn't know the answer to that. She hoped she wouldn't find out the answer to that.

"Lot of that going around," Snake said. "Especially after the Clone Wars. There are even Droids, so I'm told, that can't readily be distinguished from organic beings. Then we've got cultures that have a thing for enhancing themselves with various kinds of implants. Question is, where does one draw the line?"

Swifts pondered this. Prosthetics were one thing; she knew an old man who'd lost a leg in the Clone Wars and had had it replaced. It had certainly been an enhancements to his life, and no one thought that was wrong. Swifts didn't think it was wrong. Supplementing one's weakness with a strength certainly wasn't wrong. Getting help to function in daily life wasn't a weakness, either.

But couldn't there be a time where enhancements became detriments? A time when someone or a group of someones decided that all that they were were merely weaknesses? And what if that group of someones decided that their enhancements were necessary to impose onto others, and decided to stomp-march their way across the Galaxy, supposedly upgrading the beings they encountered? Well, it would be quite terrible, wouldn't it?

And wasn't that was the Empire did? Said you had to conform, said you had to be a certain way or else you're in the way? Maybe the Emperor thought he was some sort of superior, enhanced being, but all he had done and all he had been doing was stomp-marching his way across the Galaxy.

"If somebody's more machine than organic being," Swifts offered. "If they forget who they were in the midst of who they've become, and that doesn't bother them. If they look down on others for not having the same sort of 'enhancements', or want to force everyone to be just like them. Beyond that, I suppose their actions would tell if they'd crossed the line. Still, that holds true for organic beings and droids, too."

TAG: Tim Battershell, Heavy Isotope, Sith-I-5, Bardan_Jusik
OOC: Yes, I did just compare the Empire to Cybermen.

 

IC: Uriel Manteroni
Bridge, Deck CT-6, Delicate Delinquent.
Thought, Speech, Action, NPC, PC

Uriel turn on your datapad and says: "Well, Official Bob I was a deep amateur archaeologist, devoting myself tirelessly to artifacts Rakatas and Celestials. And I spent all my free time studying relics and ruins in the Unknown Regions, when I was struggling with the Chiss."

Uriel continues: "Well, in this context, I collected a lot of texts and knowledge and one of them relates the Celestials's CenterPoint Stations (CPS), which are several things but also huge, very huge gravity well projectors !! "

Uriel showed a design plan of CPS in your datapad for Bob.

Uriel: "The gravity well projector has the operating base a quantum inverter high-capacity generating gravitons, the gravitons are subatomic quantum that interacting with the Higgs Boson for shape our mass and that our gravity, this quantum inverter to generate gravitons and send them vectorially generate the effect of a gravitational barrier simulating a planet, this gravitational barrier forces the reversal of hyperspace due to incompatibility of interdimensional bending spacetime."

Uriel makes a break to watch Bob: "Well ... the current gravity well projector use the normal matter (electromagnetic energy conversion gravitons). The CenterPoint Station, I found that do not use conversion of normal matter ... they use dark matter, the fact is that dark matter (which is largely responsible for the interesting properties of the Unknown Regions), it has a power generating massive gravitons . To give you an idea: one standard gravity well, with normal matter, with power of a Star Destroyer, can generate a gravitational barrier the size of a planet (12,000 km in diameter), one CenterPoint Station ... can generate a size barrier the size of a GALAXY !! (100,000 light years !!!!!!!)."

Uriel concludes: "Anyway ... if you agree, I could show some algorithm for you who along with a few structural changes, would transform one of the gravity well projectors of DD in a system that uses dark matter !!!"

Uriel laughing tells for Bob: "What is the advantage of this?" Well ... considering that, maybe, we suddenly find an enemy fleet, this could help in the sense that a huge big gravitational barrier will generate a dimensional vortex in the direction we want, and this vortex will release those many warships enemies far ... at least for a time..."


Tag: @Sith-I-5

 

IC: Mary Formal, Bridge Officer Bob, Yav's voice over comlink, Main Hangar, and Bridge, Delicate Delinquent
Location: Toola


Mary did not know what reaction her news would raise, but the first one was a lot more pedestrian than she could have imagined.

"Lot of that going around," Snake responded.

"Really?"

"Especially after the Clone Wars. There are even Droids, so I'm told, that can't readily be distinguished from organic beings. Then we've got cultures that have a thing for enhancing themselves with various kinds of implants. Question is, where does one draw the line?"

"If it's that common, strange that I have not seen any." Mary murmured. She had only been in this galaxy for what she reckoned was approaching two years, but she had fitted in four worlds in that time; you'd have thought that if it was that common, she'd have noticed something.

One of the group split off with the jedi, and headed for one of the starfighters.

After a short pause, the least likely member of the group that she would have expected to, Evalynne, chimed in: "If somebody's more machine than organic being," he offered. "If they forget who they were in the midst of who they've become, and that doesn't bother them. If they look down on others for not having the same sort of 'enhancements', or want to force everyone to be just like them. Beyond that, I suppose their actions would tell if they'd crossed the line. Still, that holds true for organic beings and droids, too."

"Well, he matches the first two of what you said. He says he is 'more machine than man', and that he cannot remember much of his former life; although I reckon he used to be a cop." Mary grimaced, "He wants to call you by your first name, like those guys always want to do in interview rooms. But he is bothered by the fact that he cannot remember."

She looked hard at Swifts, as her thing about forcing people to be like them, sounded spookily like the Cybermen, or their fictional television equivalent, The Borg. All that from the imagination of a callow twelve-year-old.

She looked at Atin. "Scorch, Agent Alpha gave me a data chip which he said contained everything we would need to know for the mission ahead. I passed it to Dak."

* * * *
Bridge

Bob sat uncomfortable in the command chair while the Admiral tried to explain the purpose of the big structure on the datapad screen that he was showing him.

He had heard of dark matter of course, and had had to gain a high level in physics just to gain an officer's position within the Kings Navy, but the Admiral quickly steered away from any branch of science that the Jod officer was familiar with.

"-can generate a gravitational barrier the size of a planet (12,000 km in diameter), one CenterPoint Station ... can generate a size barrier the size of a GALAXY !! (100,000 light years !!!!!!!). Anyway ... if you agree, I could show some algorithm for you who along with a few structural changes, would transform one of the gravity well projectors of DD in a system that uses dark matter !!!" Uriel started laughing, which if heads were not already turned to face him, would have done so then: "What is the advantage of this? Well ... considering that, maybe, we suddenly find an enemy fleet, this could help in the sense that a huge big gravitational barrier will generate a dimensional vortex in the direction we want, and this vortex will release those many warships enemies far ... at least for a time..."

"Uh..." Bob managed. He flicked the comlink toggle on the armrest. "Commander, have you been following this?"

"Affirmative. I don't know what he's talking abut either."

That made Bob feel a little bit better.

The elf's voice continued, "Mister Manteroni. I did pick out the word 'vortex' in what what you were saying; what's the difference between that and a wormhole?"

Tag: Laine_Snowtrekker, Heavy Isotope, Tim Battershell, Bardan_Jusik, Uriel Manteroni

 

IC: Uriel Manteroni
Bridge, Deck CT-6, Delicate Delinquent.
Thought, Speech, Action, NPC, PC

Uriel explained: "They are completely different phenomena. I apologize for using the term vortex without explanation: this vortex is a vortex of gravitons! And gravitons vortex has a sense of counter-rotating and reaction opposite at action to a vortex of a wormhole (which is actually a fracture in the space-time warp, literally a hole that sucks), in this case a vortex of gravitons will repel anything! Not suck anything!"

Uriel continues: "Consider an analogy, a planet has mass, much mass, then it attract other masses, by the universal law of gravitation, for it to do this, gravitons are not actually drawn, they are expelled from the planet and generate the reaction of attracting other masses"

Uriel said: "Well, one gravitons vortex will repel any mass, because in fact they (gravitons) are being sucked, and by analogy as gravitons of a planet attract when they are expelled, gravitons of a vortex repel when they are sucked ..."

Uriel looked at Bob, waiting for a reaction type: Ahhh !! Now I understand!!! As the reaction delay, Uriel concluded:

"So!!! If we create a gravitational barrier really great, we vectorially direct the vortex to the center of the space station, and so we will repel all enemies, with the exception of those who are the event horizon (the space station and we) because when is on the horizon, the vectors of gravitons cancel, and so they has no effect."

Uriel finished the triumphant explanation !!

Uriel in another position will omit the negative side of the issue, but with the Admiral status, he could not do then says:

"But there is bad news." Uriel paused to let the growing tension: "Such a phenomenon is very ... very intense !!! And whereas a CPS is much more robust than DD, so DD systems will be roasted due to contraindications related to gravitational overload of gravity well generators with dark matter, in my calculations, based on the diagnosis that Bob did the DD, we will have only 20 minutes of time to perform the operation ..."

Uriel then heads to Yav's voice over comlink: "Will we be able to evacuate the space station in 20 minutes?"

Tag: @Sith-I-5

 

IC: Havah Jeth
Main Hanger, Delicate Delinquent

He slowed down when the man with the compensation issue had noted the stohkli sprayed piece of equipment, and eventually stopped. He looked at it, taking in the measure of what he had done. Tried to figure out a good reason beyond a Mando pup straying out of line, and being just a general pain as most Mando's were. In the end he couldn't think of one and that bothered him more than the upcoming mission. . .and that bothered him even worse.

Shaking his head he amped up the voice selection filtered hearing to pick out the conversations before he joined his own group. . .Blue? Teal? Yellow? To be honest he couldn't remember what it had been for color choice based on human vision parameters for his team, but he at least had a good excuse for that one. He was dealing with a team member that was breaking, well that and he forgot to record that little factoid for later.

So hearing the talk of cyborgs and . . .mission data passed to Dak?!? Blast that efficient droid he had just ridden down the turbolift with him and it hadn't passed off the data, even after correcting the grunt. Taking a deep breath he walked around the bend to the team and nodded to them as a group, "So long as the mind is intact it doesn't really matter about cyborgs, but then again I am biased. I am one." He let that hang along with his interruption for a moment before shifting his weight to continue, "As for our guests, unless we are trading info so we can better plan how to terminate them with extreme prejudice and not fall into shock when they keep coming after the first shot, I would suggest you all double check each others gear. Fresh eyes are better than a half charge power pack. And remember, easy missions are never called such until after the fact, because they are rarer than Zeltron wanting a committed exclusive relationship with you." With that he drew his side arm, spun it, and held it out to Atin.

TAG: Bardan_Jusik, Sith-I-5, Laine_Snowtrekker, Heavy Isotope, & @ the Green team if they so desire

 

IC: Owen Byrne
Delicate Delinquent, Deck Four

"Me?” Nurse…Natalie started. “I'm just a nurse. I joined a shooting course run by Commander Streets,” Owen’s mind floundered for a bit attempting to connect that name with a face. He came up blank must be a friend of the Mercs he hasn’t met yet, “once, as all the Mercs need to be able to defend themselves and the ship; plus the Security Chief,” That was a name Owen could put a face to, it’s older and hardened, willing to fight, a man Owen might like to be one day, if he lives that long. “put everyone through a refresher course, but in the main my skills are only in the medical field. Anyway-"

She was interrupted by the droid dropping another mound of blankets.

"Whoa, great job, Dak." She said congratulating the machine, Owen had to admit he was surprised but, he surmised that the droid was highly tinkered with, made him wonder what else it could do.

"Thank you." It acknowledged turning slowly towards the exit. "Ooh, my gyros are going to feel that in the morning." The soldier’s brow furrowed, he was unused to droid with a…personality. Many of the one’s he worked with had regular memory wipes to prevent such things. Though he’d never consider doing it to R, it was the only competent pilot between the two of them. He’d dare not risk its piloting programming just to get it to act normal.

"Okay, as I was saying," Natalie continued turning back to the armored fighter "Those spaces over there,” she gestured to the shield generators that the younger Mandalorian was admiring. “lead up to little-used entrances to upper decks. I'm likely to be busy, but I would like you to try to keep an eye out and make sure none of our patients try to sneak off."

“Yes mam’ will do,” he said before grabbing another blanket and laying it out like all the rest, spaced precisely the way Natalie had showed him. “And mam’ if you ever want a sparring partner, or someone to go to the shooting range with, just ask me.” It didn’t appear that he was going anywhere at the moment, might as well make himself useful.

In the back of his head there was a throaty chuckle,

“Trying this again soldier.” The voice was mocking him, “You tried this with that little girl…you failed, what makes you thing this nurse-maid will be any different.” Owen laid out another blanket, but it was off, too close to the one next to it. “You couldn’t train a squall much less a human.” He’d shifted the blanket over but, now it wasn’t square. “Look at her she looks even weaker then that other one,” He set it right but, now it was again too close. “You’re a failure, admit it. You’ll never be anything and you’ve thrown away the only thing you were ever any good at.” He moved it away but, now the fold wasn’t complete. He ran a gloved hand over his head, it was becoming a habit. He stood up choosing to walk away from the troubling piece of fabric rather than ball it up and throw it away from himself.

“Sorry,” he said turning back to the nurse, “That’s a terrible idea, forget I said anything.”

TAG: Sith-I-5

 

IC: Atin Taab
Hanger bay, deck four, Delicate Delinquent

Atin took the discovery of a cyborg aboard ship in stride. There were all kinds of crazy beings in the galaxy, and while he hadn't met them all (not even close), he had been taught by his buir (father)that they all had their place. Of course that place was beneath them as mando'ade if they were aruetii (foreign), but there was always hope for anyone to join their ranks. Most Mandalorians improved their own combat odds by wearing the armor along with any "enhancements" and modifications an individual made to it. It wasn't that far a stretch to see folks modifying themselves for similar, maybe even greater, advantage. Atin bit his lower lip behind his faceplate. Besides, wasn't Major Je...

"So long as the mind is intact it doesn't really matter about cyborgs, but then again I am biased. I am one." Jeth's voice cut through to the heart of the cyborg discussion. "As for our guests, unless we are trading info so we can better plan how to terminate them with extreme prejudice and not fall into shock when they keep coming after the first shot, I would suggest you all double check each others gear. Fresh eyes are better than a half charge power pack. And remember, easy missions are never called such until after the fact, because they are rarer than Zeltron wanting a committed exclusive relationship with you." With that he drew his side arm, spun it, and held it out to Atin.

Atin looked at Major Jeth, and then to the weapon. It was a Westar-34, like his own father's. Jeth hadn't cleared the weapon, but Atin took from him and while keeping it pointed down at the deck did it for him, ensuring that it was now unloaded (it had been loaded and charged when handed to him, as any self defense weapon should be) and safe for inspection. He hefted the pistol, the weight seemed off from his father's, but he knew his buir had done some extra work on his. Still it was a weapon he was quite familiar with and he was able to field strip it quickly.

The heter valve was a little worn, though still within tolerances and the gas conversion enabler seemed brand new. The weapon was obviously well maintained. He reassembled the pistol and handed it back to his team leader. "Good to go sir, " he said before unslinging the Verp shatter gun from his shoulder. He cleared that weapon now and handed it to the Arkanian cyborg for inspection.

TAG: Sith-I-5, Laine_Snowtrekker, Heavy Isotope, Mitth_Fisto, Tim Battershell, JFettG

 

IC: Masha Tinovorsh
Hangar Bay, Delicate Delinquent

After some discussion about cyborgs and robots, the group began checking their gear, Masha stowed her phantom cigar and quickly drew her knife; giving it a quick once over before sheathing it and making sure it was secured. Standing up, she unslung her blaster, which was already unloaded.

Holding it in her hands she wasn't exactly sure who she should pass it off to, so she waited patiently.

Tags: @Sith-I-5, @Laine_Snowtrekker, @Heavy Isotope, @Mitth_Fisto, @Tim Battershell, @JFettG

 

OOC: This post took some working, but may also be in error regarding an important point of Jod history. If it is, my apologies.

IC: Bridge Officer Bob, Yav's voice over comlink, Bridge, Delicate Delinquent
Location: Toola


Bridge Officer Bob smiled inwardly when the elf asked the difference between a vortex and a wormhole. Far as he knew, they were the same thing, and one thing that he remembered from before, the elf really disliked wormholes, and would likely can any idea that the Admiral had that had the DD within three astronomical units of a wormhole.

"They are completely different phenomena." Manteroni advised immediately.

Wait, they are? Bob looked sharply at the Republic-badged veteran.

"I apologize for using the term vortex without explanation: this vortex is a vortex of gravitons! And gravitons vortex has a sense of counter-rotating and reaction opposite at action to a vortex of a wormhole (which is actually a fracture in the space-time warp, literally a hole that sucks), in this case a vortex of gravitons will repel anything! Not suck anything!"

"Zipling!" Bob snapped his fingers in sudden realisation of what Uriel was talking about, and he imagined himself with the Mister Zipling Radar Systems logo appearing over his head! For almost four thousand years, that commercially infamous pictorial, synonymous with the most SPECTACULAR **** up of all time, was their equivalent of many cultures using a lightbulb to represent a sudden realisation.
The Zipling business empire had ceased to exist in 3,960 BBY, with the then King's expletive laden query that was heard around the smouldering remains of the Red Rock Kingdom: "How in the original ****, did your ground penetrating radar, not detect ******* subterranean Beast cities where we were doing ******* Red Rock drilling?! Reams of flimsi about ore-rich strata, but Sweet Fanny Adams about that big door with the 'Do Not Disturb' sign on it!"

Uriel continued as if he had not heard the outburst: ""Consider an analogy, a planet has mass, much mass, then it attract other masses, by the universal law of gravitation, for it to do this, gravitons are not actually drawn, they are expelled from the planet and generate the reaction of attracting other masses. Well, one gravitons vortex will repel any mass, because in fact they (gravitons) are being sucked, and by analogy as gravitons of a planet attract when they are expelled, gravitons of a vortex repel when they are sucked ..."

Bob found Uriel looking at him expectantly, as if eager to hear that he had been understood. He nodded encouragingly, "Yep, I get that. It's like the difference between a attracting tractor beam, and a repelling pusher beam."

"So!!! If we create a gravitational barrier really great, we vectorially direct the vortex to the center of the space station, and so we will repel all enemies, with the exception of those who are the event horizon (the space station and we) because when is on the horizon, the vectors of gravitons cancel, and so they has no effect."

Bob was nodding along as Uriel finished the triumphant explanation!!

"But there is bad news."

"Wouldn't be a Merc' mission without some o' that." Yav retorted.

Uriel paused, presumably for effect: "Such a phenomenon is very ... very intense !!! And whereas a CPS is much more robust than DD, so DD systems will be roasted due to contraindications related to gravitational overload of gravity well generators with dark matter, in my calculations, based on the diagnosis that Bob did the DD, we will have only 20 minutes of time to perform the operation ..."

Bob raised an eyebrow at that; he didn't see the elf going for something that could roast their systems, though he himself thought he could see enough here not to dismiss the idea out of hand.

"Will we be able to evacuate the space station in 20 minutes?"

The Jod almost jumped into Uriel's arms at the sudden hysterical laughter that burst over his bridge from the speaker. Several seconds in, there was a heavy thud and further laughing that had ROFL written all over it.

"I'm no translator, Admiral, but I think that is acoustic shorthand for: No. Frag no. What are you, crazy?"

The laughter showed no signs of abating, and Bob could hear Cradmoon in the background asking what was so funny.

Tag: Uriel Manteroni

---

IC: Bridge Officer Bob, Yav's voice over comlink, Bridge, Delicate Delinquent
Location: Toola

"Yes, sir. Elias Task reporting for duty." the new crewmember responded, before Johmer walked with him towards the X-Wings, where a Merc' pilot and an astromech were striding ahead of them to the further one.

Task continued, "I'll take you up on that offer for an astromech. I was unable to bring my own. Long story short, smuggling jobs are an easy way to go through a handful of astromechs. X-Wing, huh? Never flown one before, always wanted to. Who says dreams don't come true?"

Johmer nodded along, then looked back down the hanger to a black N-1 starfighter floating on repulsorlifts, a black R2 unit, and a silver-domed astromech were sitting next to what looked like an old Z-6 Rotary Cannon.

"Deputy! You will be going out with this gentle-being." Johmer waved at the darker droid, pointed to Elias, next to him.

The droid whistled plaintively back that, [That big dude over there, told me to guard this piece-of-guano weapon that he left under here.]

"Since when did you start listening to orders?"

[Good point. **** it.] Deputy lowered his third leg and started to roll towards them, getting barely a metre before its silver-domed companion warbled an objection.

[No, you better stay. Some kid might pick that gun up.]

[What kid? In fact, I challenge a youngling to try picking that up.]

[Stay. I'll go.] Silver rolled up to the two humans, and bleeped a 'hello' as her dome moved to afford her main burgundy-glased photoreceptor a good look at first the jedi, then Task.

****

Mary Formal had been noting the Arkanian's approach, when he contributed to the matter, at hand: "So long as the mind is intact it doesn't really matter about cyborgs, but then again I am biased. I am one."

Her mouth dropped open, as she stared up at him.

"As for our guests, unless we are trading info so we can better plan how to terminate them with extreme prejudice and not fall into shock when they keep coming after the first shot, I would suggest you all double check each others gear. Fresh eyes are better than a half charge power pack. And remember, easy missions are never called such until after the fact, because they are rarer than Zeltron wanting a committed exclusive relationship with you."

None of that penetrated what she would later recall as her internal Blue Screen of Death, so when she emerged from her fugue enough to notice Masha holding out her blaster to her, she was at a loss as to the reason.

Formal took it from her, radiating uncertainty as she looked from it, up into the red-haired pilot's face. "Thanks?"

Tag: JFettG, Heavy Isotope