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

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

Discussion in 'Role Playing Forum' started by Bravo, Nov 16, 2013.

  1. Sith-I-5

    Sith-I-5 Force Ghost star 6

    Registered:
    Aug 14, 2002
    IC: Bridge Officer Bob, Corporal Dragan Stormane "Dragon", Pilot Officer Havoc Neb, different places aboard the Delicate Delinquent.
    Location: Florn


    An expanding blue-black circle at the end of the red tunnel rushed up to meet the Light-class Destroyer towing the DD, and then the bright blue-white luminescence from the planet Florn flooded into the Interdictor's bridge as they emerged into Real Space, the wormhole collapsing unseen in their wake.

    "House of Vimal Actual to Delicate Delinquent Actual, what's up?" The commander of that vessel's voice came over the DD' bridge speakers.

    "Well it's a bit late NOW!" Bridge Officer Bob retorted angrily into the comm. "We didn't want to be brought through!"

    The Tactical operator's voice called out, "Nine Star Destroyers and three intact Death Spheres to our port side, and the Far Reach station to starboard. There are other Kingdom of Jod warships in the area."

    Yav's voice came over the comm. "Well, we are here now. Deploy the shuttle, get our people onto that station."

    "Copy that, Commander." Bob turned to Flavin. "Instruct the Flight Deck to launch the TL-1800 and escort."

    * * * *
    TL-1800 shuttle


    Dragan listened as Swifts nodded. "That makes sense, sir," she said.

    The shaggy-haired Jod said nothing, just smiling encouragingly and patting her hand in response.

    Beyond her, Scorch's leg began to jig about, a sure sign the slight Mando' was nervous.

    "Are we there yet?"

    Okay, maybe not.

    Dragan looked on as she too noticed the leg and following comment, breaking out in a small smile. "My guess is we'll be there soon enough," She added.

    In the cockpit, Neb stiffened at the voice coming over his headcomm set. "Roger that, Flight Deck." He said into the voice pickup under his double-jowled chin. "We will follow Guardian 16 out. TL-1800 out. Live Free, you wanna get the shields?"

    Mary dutifully pressed the buttons to activate their defensive shielding, carefully watching a screen that showed a top-down outline of their craft, and an additional outline of light blue dots appearing around it, one by one. "Shields up."

    She looked up to see parked X-Wing in front of them, rise of the polished deck and slowly float towards the invisible magnetic shield that held the atmosphere inside the hangar.

    "Alright people," Neb called back into the main area, "we are going."

    Mary grinned and rubbed her palms together in a gesture of excitement. "Yes, lets rock out with our car out."

    Neb glanced at her with his solid black eyes as the craft rose slowly off the deck. "Y'know, I'm not flying with you if you keep saying that."

    She scowled back in disbelief, "So what, it's alright if Scorch says it, but it's suddenly a problem if I do?"

    Havoc faced front again and pushed forward on the control stick, taking them forwards and through the magnetic shield, the darkness of space opening up beneath them through the square aperture beneath the Interdictor cruiser. "Scorch has a...car...I expect. Besides, he isn't my co-pilot."

    The freighter nosed down to exit into space.

    Tag: anyone who wants to post
     
  2. Intervention

    Intervention Jedi Knight star 2

    Registered:
    Oct 1, 2012
    IC: Staff Officer Riddick L. Thompson, Commodore Timothy Stakes
    Conference Room A (Starboard Tower), Allegiance, King II-class Battleship


    "Taab," the Mandalorian answered flatly. "Chief of Security for the mercenary vessel Johnny Boy. Seems we have some thing in common here." He glanced over to Hover wondering what the Merc may have already told them. Best to just lay their cards, most of them anyway, on the table. "We were on assignment from our commander, Jason Lasso," he paused wondering if Stakes would give any reaction to the name and then continued on.

    "Yes, Captain Lasso. Rick Taller's replacement if I remember. I remember talking with the man, back when he was just a starfighter pilot and Lieutenant when Taller was in command," Stakes sighed, "Shame that this war is taking the best of us."

    "Seems he had information that a man by the name of Jim Palso might be in danger and we were to rescue him." He shifted slightly in his chair, trying to move his shoulder a bit to lessen the pain. "Come to find out that Palso is working for the Kingdom as well, that's his ship we were brought in on. So I figure we're on the same side here now." He shifted in his chair again, the previous movement had done nothing to help out.

    "Our mission went sideways and our CO, Lasso, is dead. KIA". He paused for a second to let that sink in. He didn't tell Stakes about simultaneous kill/protect order. He wasn't sure sure who to trust in terms of the Jod, something "shabby" was clearly going on there, either wheels within wheels or active traitors within their ranks. Who knew what side (if any) this Stakes was on. "Now my team is combat ineffective at the moment, but if we get a chance to rearm, resupply and heal a bit, we can go back in and get Palso."

    "There's no need," Stakes said, quickly clarifying, "I'm sure you've talked with "He" and Master Zat in the past aboard the Johnny Boy? They'll retrieve Palso as needed. With that said, this leads us into some uncomfortable territory. Territory I hope you didn't share with our mutual friend Staff Officer Thompson? Even if you did, I guess it would be too late anyways."

    Stakes looked to the officers who nodded and left, leaving Stakes alone with the bounty hunter and Hover. Grabbing some of the food, he motioned for Hover to start, the Commodore slumped back into his seat, a very uncharacteristic movement for a Naval Officer, then sighed as he chewed mindless on a small piece of nerf steak.

    "If it wasn't for the fact that Mr. Hover and I had an extensive conversation prior to this, or the fact that we have had a long working relationship with the astromech that told Hover of Palso's true identity to you, I would be killed on the spot for telling you both this. But right now, I don't know if my life is truly worth saving...if it means the galaxy is going to burn."

    Snapping out of his reluctance, Stakes sat upright and turned on the holo projector in the middle of the table, which showed a map of the known galaxy. "I don't know if I can trust you, Mr. Taab. But maybe that's why I know I can trust you. You can always trust the dishonest people to be dishonest and you have no allegiance other then money. I'm not telling you any of this so as to win you back to our side. You're a bounty hunter, a mercenary, with a longer resume then the Mercs could possible afford, even Taller's crew in their prime years ago. And I know a thing or two about the HRI, so if I'm a betting man, I'd bet you and Staff Officer Thompson have a little more in relation to each other then just conversations behind closed doors and behind my back. So lets just all assume you're being paid by the HRI....or at least were. For what? I would assume Lasso and his protection. Or, I should say, to keep an eye on him, although you were never told that. And neither was anyone else, I just so happen to put the pieces together and took a lucky guess that you were more babysitter then actual bodyguard for the HRI."

    "Why you blood-thirsty, no good, piece of Hutt licking----" Hover started, starting to get up to face Taab down, but Stakes stopped him, forcing him down.

    "Calm it down, Warrant Officer," Stakes warned, "A man who leaves the Rebels to join mercenaries is no better then a man who is a mercenary serving mercenaries. Mr. Taab did a job and did it well. So in that fact, he was loyal to the Mercs. Where his loyalty is now...only money can buy. But Mr. Taab's professional pride remains the same, I would hope so, and he won't sell you or us out. Are we clear, Warrant Officer?"

    "Crystal, Commodore," Hover said; he might of been a Merc, but still held respect to rank in any military.

    'What I'm about to show both of you is highly classified. While it's old news to HRI, Alliance Intelligence, and Imperial Intelligence, at least for us Jod, Jod Military Forces' top Loyalist military commanders were just briefed on the extent of the problem yesterday. The only reason why the Jod went into hiding in the first and the only reason why we're coming out of hiding now...is because of this problem. Mr. Taab, I'm showing you this because something is telling me you are going to become more important in the bigger picture of all of this then both you and I realize. I'm going to take a risk, essentially my life, in telling you this because I think of all the people in the galaxy, you will know what to do with this information. Anyone else...I don't know."

    "Then why are you telling me if he's the savior of the galaxy all of sudden?" asked Hover.

    "Because," Stakes said, "In case I'm killed or Mr. Taab has a change of heart, someone else has to know. As to keep the truth out there when all of this blows up in our faces and galactic governments start blaming each other instead of handling the problem at hand."

    The lights dimmed and the galactic map came to life, showing four red areas: 1) Utegetu Nebula & Murgo Choke 2) Nilgaard Sector 3) Algor 4) Rhen Var

    Then a singular starfighter appeared in front of the galaxy map, rotating around and highlighting various statistics about the craft in text boxes around the imagine including speed, armor, weapons, shields, etc.

    There was no allegiance symbol on the starfighter anywhere to be found. It showed no loyalty to anyone.

    "Warrant Officer Hover...Mr. Taab, have any of you seen this starfighter anywhere in the galaxy before?"


    TAG Bardan_Jusik
     
  3. Sith-I-5

    Sith-I-5 Force Ghost star 6

    Registered:
    Aug 14, 2002
    IC: Agent Omega, Agent Mu, Agent Alpha, Pilot Officers Havoc Neb and Mary Formal, , Deck Eight, Delicate Delinquent; and TL-1800 shuttle, respectively.
    Location: Florn


    The imposing, dark-clothed figure that was the Organisation's Agent Omega stood at the corner of the maintenance corridor on Deck Eight, the very same that had so interested Pilot Officer Manteroni earlier. He was aiming to stay out of sight of the guards at the turbolifts at the far end of the long corridor, while observing a sealed cabin door, a third of the way along the hall.

    "Byrne does not appear to be coming out. Unusual considering the ship is at Condition One." He was speaking to his two team-mates who were at the re-sliced maintenance console, with the light from the upturned screen casting a wan glow onto the slighter Agent Mu's face. "Perhaps he has warp-lag."

    Next to Mu, Agent Alpha nodded. "Go ahead, then."

    Mu's fingers quickly tapped codes and instructions into the keypad. "We have reverted at Florn. In fact, we are right up next to the station."

    "Good." Alpha pulled a comlink from inside his black calf-length coat, bringing it up to his lips. Civilian could do 200 kms easy, depending on weather conditions. Organisation ones bettered that in range and conditions.
    Providing, as his colleague had relayed, they were that close to the Far Reach station, this should do fine. "Oh-Tee-Three-Twenty-One. Code clearance: Jeffrey."

    "Security Asset Team Aurek. Have you made contact with the Mercs" A voice immediately responded.

    "Yes Sir. The Immobiliser 418 cruiser that has just arrived at your location is a Merc vessel, and will be leading your evacuation. A TL-1800 shuttle will be heading over to you." Alpha advised.

    "Oh yes, we can see it now. Looks like it has already attracted attention; it's picked up a TIE."

    Alpha frowned at his comlink. "Well, don't shoot it; the Merc cruiser is carrying TIEs. The one following the shuttle is probably one of its escorts."

    "Negative, Aurek. The invaders have TIEs of their own, and they are shielded to boot."

    "Vaping Moffs," Alpha snarled in annoyance. "alright, advise your defense gunners that in a few minutes, not all TIE fighters in their sights are going to be hostiles; some will be friendlies. And that shuttle will need letting through the shield, of course. Team Aurek out." He turned to Omega at the corner. "Inform the DD bridge that we're going to have two sets of TIEs out there."

    * * * *
    TL-1800 freighter interior


    "I think we've got company!" One of the newcomers shouted forwards as the shuttle was shaken around for a second time since they had left the safety of the Delicate Delinquent's hangar.

    "Yes, thank you." Neb groused aloud as he took the freighter into an evasive manouvre, while keeping an eye on the four rose-pink ion engines of the X-Wing ahead of them. "We don't need back seat piloting. And for the record, we have arrived in the midst of a space battle, so yes, a lot of company. Live Free?"

    On a screen between him and Formal, a radiation-obscured holocam view was showing the familiar shape of a TIE fighter bouncing around in their wake, firing twin laser blasts at them.

    Mary checked the deflector readouts. "Rear shields are holding fine. We do have an ion cannon turret that we can try, but unless it extends up a whole lot, our engines would be in the way."

    "Ion cannon, what ion cannon? These things don't have one of those!"

    The Sullustan pilot steered to the right of a pockmarked grey-brown spherical bulk a couple hundred metres in diameter, floating slowly towards their shared destination.

    He wondered what the heck it was.

    Formal decided not to argue with her superior, and activated the ion cannon. She had been briefed on the vessel by one of the engineers back at Outpost Nowhere, soon after being assigned to crew it.

    A twin-barrelled Armek SW-4 ion cannon turret had been appropriated from a Y-Wing that was too damage to repair, and its parts spread around to other uses. he pressed the relevent series of illumuninated keys, and on the dorsal hull above the passenger area, a metal panel slid aside to reveal a dark rectangular pit, and the new addition to its arsenal, rose into sight, facing the front, but immediately whirring round to target the rear, controlled by the Arcateenian inside.

    Several in the passenger area, looked up at the unexpected sound.

    "TL-1800 freighter from Far Reach station control." Sounded over the cockpit speakers.

    "TL-1800, copy." Neb reported in, speaking into the voice pickup in front of his sweaty jowls.

    "You and both your escorts, the X and Y-Wing, have permission to come inside the shield."

    "Far Reach, we do not have a Y-Wing with us."

    "You will in a moment. She will take care of your problem."

    The communications from the station were loud enough to be heard by all in the main cabin, so Formal counted the seconds till Snake chimed in with a snide comment about someone.

    Havoc lift his right hand from the controls and pointed out the forward ports towards a starfighter barrel-rolling into position ahead and to the right of them, then decelerating so that it seemed like the ponderous shuttle had put on a burst of speed, disappearing out of sight.

    "Well that was fun." Mary quipped. Flashes of blue-white light from the rear-view screen showed the pursuing TIE crackling with ionic energy, and starting to drift away from them as it lost power and shed momentum.

    "TL-1800 from Y-Wing, you're all clear now. Proceed to the opening in the shield."

    Neb was about to retort that the station shield was completely invisible to his eyes and sensors, so, what opening, when before him, the area of space between him and the station changed without warning into a frost-coloured and textured barrier that stretched as far up, down, and to the sides as he could see through the ports.

    Ahead of the leading X-Wing, a gold-rimmed black circle had appeared in the shield surface.

    "Guardian 16 from TL-1800. Head for the black circle. That will be our route through the shield. Then we follow the lights to the docking area."

    "Guardian 16 copies."

    * * * *

    Inside the shield, the space before the impossibly gargantuan structure was drastically quiet and the freighter only had to follow the trail of free-floating light globes down towards the lowest levels of a protracted cityscape of towering spires, that were on a giant circular plate that jutted out n a several mile bridge from the flanks of Far Reach Orbital Station's central torus.

    A huge square hole of darkness appeared in the light blue wall of a towering skycraper, and sensors showed that there was quite the cavern beyond.

    The X-Wing ahead, and the Y-Wing behind, peeled off to keep guard as Havoc Neb nosed the TL-1800 into the entrance, the voice from the station's master's announcing over the cockpit speakers: "You are entering Hangar Level B-One." The voice advised, continuing, "Agent Halla is will meet you in the hangar, should you need a contact on the ground. A picture should be coming through....., now."

    [​IMG]
    Organisation Security Agent Halla


    "Copy that." Neb responded into his voice-pickup, setting the freighter down to the left of two http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/GR-75_medium_transport/Legends]Gallofree[/url] Yards GR-75 transports, each 90 metre craft, it's underside crammed with blocky metal containers of all shapes and colours. "Whoever you are."

    Mary scrolled back up the screen of the datapad open on her laps, and pressed her finger to the dark green monitor. "Okay, this is where we drop Green Team and Edge."

    Neb lifted his head and called back to the Mercs and Jod behind him: "Okay, Green Team, this is where you deploy! If you know what you are doing, go to it, and call us later. If not, ask in the hangar for an Agent Halla. Opening inner airlock."

    Tag: Tim Battershell, Heavy Isotope, Laine_Snowtrekker, Mitth_Fisto, Bardan_Jusik, anyone that I have missed.


    OOC: Players departing the shuttle, you are on your own as to what you describe, until Bravo or other Staff chimes in.

    May the Force be with you.
     
  4. Bardan_Jusik

    Bardan_Jusik Former Manager star 10 VIP - Former Mod/RSA

    Registered:
    Dec 14, 2009
    IC: Beskaryc Taab
    Conference Room A (Starboard Tower), Allegiance, King II-class Battleship

    "There's no need," Taab blinked behind his T-Visor at the blunt statement from Commodore Stakes who continued on. "I'm sure you've talked with "He" and Master Zat in the past aboard the Johnny Boy?" Taab indeed knew them, though he tended to not socialize with them. Matter of fact he didn't really socialize with anyone aboard the Johnny Boy. "They'll retrieve Palso as needed. With that said, this leads us into some uncomfortable territory. Territory I hope you didn't share with our mutual friend Staff Officer Thompson?" Taab sat impassively, giving away nothing, even though he hadn't really told the spook much of anything. "Even if you did, I guess it would be too late anyways."

    Stakes looked to the officers who nodded and left, leaving Stakes alone with the bounty hunter and Hover. Grabbing some of the food, he motioned for Hover to start, the Commodore slumped back into his seat.

    "If it wasn't for the fact that Mr. Hover and I had an extensive conversation prior to this, or the fact that we have had a long working relationship with the astromech that told Hover of Palso's true identity to you, I would be killed on the spot for telling you both this. But right now, I don't know if my life is truly worth saving...if it means the galaxy is going to burn."

    Taab grunted something akin to a laugh. The galaxy was always burning, in some place or another, or sometimes all at once. It wasn't something to be lamented, it was just the way of things. Besides, it meant continued employment. Stakes activated a holo emitter now, one that showed the galaxy and Taab leaned forward to get a better look. It was briefing time.

    "I don't know if I can trust you, Mr. Taab. But maybe that's why I know I can trust you. You can always trust the dishonest people to be dishonest and you have no allegiance other then money. I'm not telling you any of this so as to win you back to our side. You're a bounty hunter, a mercenary, with a longer resume then the Mercs could possible afford," Taab shifted uncomfortably. This was all true, but he didn't like where this was headed. "...even Taller's crew in their prime years ago. And I know a thing or two about the HRI, so if I'm a betting man, I'd bet you and Staff Officer Thompson have a little more in relation to each other then just conversations behind closed doors and behind my back. So lets just all assume you're being paid by the HRI....or at least were. For what? I would assume Lasso and his protection. Or, I should say, to keep an eye on him, although you were never told that. And neither was anyone else, I just so happen to put the pieces together and took a lucky guess that you were more babysitter then actual bodyguard for the HRI." Taab was still, neither confirming or denying anything. That contract was concluded, but there was no need to go advertising what he did or did not know.

    "Why you blood-thirsty, no good, piece of Hutt licking----" Hover started, starting to get up to face Taab down. Taab turned to look at him, I'll have to put him down non lethal, he thought to himself. At least in front of the Commodore. He winked rapidly three times with his right eye. Fortunately Stakes stopped him before it reached that point.

    "Calm it down, Warrant Officer," Stakes warned, "A man who leaves the Rebels to join mercenaries is no better then a man who is a mercenary serving mercenaries. Mr. Taab did a job and did it well. So in that fact, he was loyal to the Mercs. Where his loyalty is now...only money can buy. But Mr. Taab's professional pride remains the same, I would hope so, and he won't sell you or us out. Are we clear, Warrant Officer?"

    "Crystal, Commodore." With a blink of an eye Taab reset the safety on the dart shooters attached to his kneepads. Those darts were non lethal, but would have put Hover down for a long while.

    "What I'm about to show both of you is highly classified. While it's old news to HRI, Alliance Intelligence, and Imperial Intelligence, at least for us Jod, Jod Military Forces' top Loyalist military commanders were just briefed on the extent of the problem yesterday. The only reason why the Jod went into hiding in the first and the only reason why we're coming out of hiding now...is because of this problem. Mr. Taab, I'm showing you this because something is telling me you are going to become more important in the bigger picture of all of this then both you and I realize. I'm going to take a risk, essentially my life, in telling you this because I think of all the people in the galaxy, you will know what to do with this information. Anyone else...I don't know."

    Taab sensed future employment in that, and the "more important in the bigger picture of all of this" part meant they would be paying him a premium. Especially as he had other business, personal business, to attend to now.

    "Then why are you telling me if he's the savior of the galaxy all of sudden?" asked Hover. Savior of the Galaxy? Yeah, I like the sound of that Taab thought as he mentally added another 15% to his fee.

    "Because," Stakes said, "In case I'm killed or Mr. Taab has a change of heart, someone else has to know. As to keep the truth out there when all of this blows up in our faces and galactic governments start blaming each other instead of handling the problem at hand." Taab still said nothing as the map came to life. He recognized the four areas glowing red. The Murgo choke near the Utegetu Nebula. He'd never been there, but the chokepoint created by the gravity wells of four nearby stars was fairly obvious. Also highlighted was the Nilgaard Sector, out in the Outer Rim. Taab had no idea what connection it had with the Choke, which was out in Wild Space. Also out in the Outer Rim, Algor was highlighted. Taab knew that place rather well. A den of smugglers and pirates, and worse, lawyers. It would actually make a decent recruiting stop for the Mercs, but the connection to the other highlighted locations still eluded him. Last was Rhen Var. That was the location of Outpost Nowhere, the Mercs "base" and the Johnny Boy's home port for the time being. What did that have to do with any of this...

    Then a singular starfighter appeared in front of the galaxy map, rotating around and highlighting various statistics about the craft in text boxes around the imagine including speed, armor, weapons, shields, etc. There were no identifying marks on the craft, nothing to show who it belonged to, or who it's enemies were.

    "Warrant Officer Hover...Mr. Taab," the Commodore addressed them both again. "Have any of you seen this starfighter anywhere in the galaxy before?"

    Taab continued looking at the data on the craft, recording everything in his buy'ce (helmet). That kind of information could be the difference between life and death someday. His voice echoed out flatly from behind his faceplate.

    "No Commodore, can't say that I have." There was no use in asking for more, they would be told whatever Stakes wanted to share with them, and then they would go from there.


    TAG: Bravo




    IC: Atin Taab
    TL-1800 shuttle interior, edge of Florn system

    "I think we've got company!" Someone shouted, and not for the first time as the shuttle lurched and shook again.

    "Yes, thank you." Slick shouted back to whoever it was. "We don't need back seat piloting. And for the record, we have arrived in the midst of a space battle, so yes, a lot of company...."

    The ship shuddered again as the pilot corkscrewed them around, trying to avoid fire from whatever it was shooting at them. The sudden maneuver caused Atin's head to bang against the hull, and he was glad for his bucket. He looked around the cabin, there was no use in being afraid, they would either arrive or they wouldn't, nothing Atin could do right now would affect the outcome. He balled his left hand into a fist. Oh but what he wouldn't give to be out there right now, taking part in the screaming dogfight that had to be going on around them. He desperately wanted to do something, anything, to fight back, and it irked him greatly to be so helpless.

    There was a sudden unexpected sound from above them, not a blaster hit, something mechanical followed by a series of thumps that Atin identified as weapons fire. At least they were fighting back. Atin resisted the urge to move up to the cockpit and take over fire control of the weapon. His job was clear, and the others had their own jobs. His leg started tapping again with excitement.

    The ship settled, as if putting down or docking and Slick shouted back to them again. "Okay, Green Team, this is where you deploy! If you know what you are doing, go to it, and call us later. If not, ask in the hangar for an Agent Halla. Opening inner airlock." Atin pressed himself back against the inner hull, trying to stay out of the way. He was on Red team, it wasn't time for him to deploy just yet. He gave Edge a light punch on the shoulder to grab her attention before the hatch opened. "Stay frosty out there."

    TAG: Sith-I-5, Laine_Snowtrekker, Heavy Isotope, Mitth_Fisto, Tim Battershell
     
  5. Uriel Manteroni

    Uriel Manteroni Jedi Knight star 1

    Registered:
    Sep 24, 2014
    IC: Uriel Manteroni
    Bridge, Deck CT-6, Delicate Delinquent.
    Thought, Speech, Action, NPC, PC
    Music:

    After passing red space anti-inertial systems DD returned to normal.

    Uriel who was holding Bromley, released him and said: "You owe me a favor friend."
    Uriel looked at Bob, then looked at the bridge's door that was locked and said: "Bridge Officer Bob, I believe we can release the Bromley Engineer for him to make changes in the gravity well generator. For this it is essential that the bridge's door is unlocked."

    Uriel looked out the window and saw all scene, the Star Destroyer and the shots from as far and he said for Bob: "I think maybe we really need the "20 minutes" that dark matter promises ...'

    Uriel approached the main bridge window and can see the TL-1800,
    The TL-1800 managed to overcome the barrier of fire and entered within the region protected by the shields of the space station.

    "They get inside the shields of the space station!" Uriel screamed!

    Uriel said quietly: "May the Force be with them."

    Then Uriel watched the FAR REACH! Looking at the huge structure Uriel blood ran cold !!! He had to hold on to the bridge window not to fall! Almost fainted !!

    The design that structure was known ...

    It was well known by Uriel ...

    It looked like old, distant structures of Unknown Regions ...

    It was like old-spatial Rakatas ruins ...

    TAG: Sith-I-5
     
    Sith-I-5 and Tim Battershell like this.
  6. Tim Battershell

    Tim Battershell Jedi Master star 5

    Registered:
    Sep 3, 2012
    IC: Aidan Dodd
    TL-1800 Shuttle, Florn System.

    Not the sort of deployment I prefer. Even if we've been decanted into the midst of a Hot Zone, there's surely no need to be bounced around like this. Hasn't this crate got shields? Or is the pilot saving them for his retirement? No doubt about it, Blood Moon is definitely coming along on any future occasion, permission or not. I know how tough she is - and I'd have a window-seat too!

    It is - slightly, very slightly - reassuring to hear a mechanical noise from overhead, followed by the 'thump, thump, thump' of weapons' fire. I don't have a clue what the weapon is but its certainly nice to hear someone actually doing something to discourage whatever nastiness is out there.

    Then the ride eased and the pilot shouted back "Okay, Green Team, this is where you deploy! If you know what you are doing, go to it, and call us later. If not, ask in the hangar for an Agent Halla. Opening inner airlock."

    I wait in the queue to disembark, trying to avoid stepping on anyone's favourite toes - or getting tangled up with their legs - on the way out. Ahead of me, Dragon and 'The Saurian Mummy' look to be taking equal care to extricate themselves without accidentally damaging anyone en-route.

    When I do finally get out of the shuttle, I wonder what we've been let in for.... the place is enormous - and this is supposed just to be the Hangar Bay. Probably not exactly true but it looks like it could swallow that Death Star and still have room left over.

    First things, though. Headcount - check all six of us are off the shuttle - then find this Agent Halla person.


    TAG: Sith-I-5, Heavy Isotope, indirectly - those still on the shuttle.
     
    Uriel Manteroni and Sith-I-5 like this.
  7. Laine_Snowtrekker

    Laine_Snowtrekker Jedi Grand Master star 5

    Registered:
    Jul 8, 2003
    IC: Swifts
    Shuttle

    I changed my mind, this is not fun, I'm not sure I'll ever think this is fun, Swifts thought as the shuttle lurched again, sloshing the shuttle around like those drinks people were ordering back at the Down 'N Out. But people weren't liquids. Well, that she knew of, there was always a possibility that there was some being out there in the Galaxy who was primarily liquid.

    The shuttle shuddered and Swifts leaned back to avoid smacking into the hull; it was like in a race, doing a tight turn on her swoop, she just had to lean into the turn. Not too far, of course, didn't want to fall off. Or, well, smack her head into the hull like Scorch did.

    Like a swoop race. Like a swoop race. OH.

    A mission was like a course--you could have done them a couple million times and each was still an entirely new thing. Each with its own challenges and little moments of panic and triumph. Just as deadly. Just as glorious. Just a swoop race.

    The analogy was shaky, of course. If it were actually a swoop race, then she'd be a pilot and not being rattled so thoroughly with no control over it. She bounced in her seat. By the Settler, she wanted off this shuttle.

    Of course, that was the moment the shuttle actually stopped shuddered, as if landing. What team was she on again? Red? Were they the first off the shuttle? Why did the brief briefing seem so distant at this moment?

    "Okay, Green Team, this is where you deploy! If you know what you are doing, go to it, and call us later. If not, ask in the hangar for an Agent Halla. Opening inner airlock."

    Aw, moons, she had to stay on. Swifts tried to keep out of Green Team's way as they disembarked. In all honesty, though, probably shouldn't complain; she'd be getting off soon enough, and she'd probably end up wanting to be back on the shuttle. Keep your head in the race that's happening now, not the race a month from now, Swifts. Focus on the here and now, like Uncle Royal always says.

    She took a deep breath as Scorch lightly punched Edge and said, "Stay frosty out there."

    They weren't deploying into vacuum, were they? No, that wouldn't make sense, they'd have to have that specialized gear, like they had when they'd gone to the pirate ship.

    The Red Team trooped off the shuttle, Snake among them. It would be the first time she'd be on her own without anyone who'd been on Algor, Swifts realized in a moment of clarity. Time to shine. Or burn out, as the case may be. But that was not productive race thinking. Here and now, here and now.

    "Here we go again," Swifts said, aiming for sounding nonchalant. Not sure she succeeded, though.

    TAG: Bardan_Jusik, others on shuttle
     
  8. Intervention

    Intervention Jedi Knight star 2

    Registered:
    Oct 1, 2012
    IC: Commodore Timothy Stakes, Warrant Officer Hover
    Conference Room A (Starboard Tower), Allegiance, King II-class Battleship


    "No Commodore, can't say that I have." There was no use in asking for more, they would be told whatever Stakes wanted to share with them, and then they would go from there.

    "Yes..." Hover replied distantly, the sounds of that horrific two days aboard the Red Ocean...the smells, the death, everything rushing back. He had been on the bridge that day, doing guard duty, when they came, out from that has nebula, "Yes, Commodore, I have," Hover swallowed hard, suddenly uncomfortable, "Before Taab joined the Mercs, sir. Data, myself, and Warrant...we were all aboard the Rebel Dreadnought Heavy Cruiser Red Ocean. Top secret mission gone rogue in the Expansion Regions. A course, most of the crew had no idea we were rogue from Alliance chain of command, but those that did...disappeared. So we kept our mouths shut. Anyways, we were testing a captured Red Rock Drive from a savaged King I-class Battleship. We were sent to the Expansion Region under Alliance command to conduct tests and raids against hard military targets: starfighter bases, listening posts, armed patrols. Our orders were specific: hit-and-run tactics with just the Red Ocean against hard Imperial targets, major military operations, the whole set-up. No convoy raids, no mercy missions. We were strictly a warship."

    Hover shifted uncomfortably in his chair, taking a sip of a drink on the table, the voices, the screams, the smells of those two days of hell still coming to mind, "For over one month we conducted our mission under Alliance command. Then, suddenly, we left the Expansion Region. A course we weren't told why. We were already on a top-secret mission, so we just all assumed it was part of the plan. But days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. We were hitting Imperial targets unusually hard and with unusually brutal tactics---even for Imperials---from the Outer Rim to the Expansion Region. Dropping out of Red Space, engaging Imperial targets, and disappearing and able to appear on the other side of the galaxy for another fight in seemingly just minutes. When men started to ask questions, security around the ship got tight.

    "The three of us, Data, Warrant, and myself, were all part of security. So we were tasked with keeping mouths shut. Sad thing, we even didn't know what was going on. We were just following orders. Then it happened. We were hiding out by a gas nebula---deep in dark, cold space---recharging battery cells, counting captured Imperial equipment and supplies---when those things," Hover pointed to the holo-picture starfighter, "Came out of the gas nebula. Forty-eight of them. They swarmed us, hammered us; destroyed our starfighters and took down our shields and engines. We'd seen nothing like them before. They balanced the perfect set-up: speed, agility, and firepower in a hardened hull with good shields. The fighters must of cost a fortune, let alone the pilots needed them were next to none. We'd damaged two of them, destroyed one, but they were just better in us. The technology and firepower left us in the dust. Just when we thought we'd won, they were retreating, a ghostly looking frigate---it looked more animal and organic---then it did metal and wires, came at us, deploying other more typical Uglies of two squadrons that attacked us, combined with the frigate's firepower and our lowered shields, they took us. Boarded us. Then----those, those Beasts came aboard from that frigate. We fought deck to deck, room to room. It was no use.

    "We fought for what seemed like weeks. Our distress signals went unanswered. None of us knew we were rogue and going against Alliance High Command orders and that we were being hunted by both the Alliance AND the Imperials. By the end of the first day, what was left of us, were hiding, in small bands or tribes, trying to stay alive, recapture small parts of the ship, and get survivors. The Beasts....they never left survivors. Then we met the Mercs on the second day, who did come to our rescue, escaped that hell, and are now here."

    Stakes nodded, "The HRI gave us a full report," the Commodore added, "I'm sorry for your experience."

    "Yeah," Hover said, "I'm sorry too. I lost my faith in the Rebel Alliance that day and became a mercenary with the Mercs. As I'd figured it, if Rebels were becoming turncoats for profit and selfish gain, what made us any different then the Imperials? I became a Merc, because I believed in what Taller and his crew was fighting for: to fight the Empire, not be like it."

    Stakes changed gears, "Three of these red spots on the map," Stakes said, redirecting to the map at hand, "Are places where this starfighter has appeared. Advanced in every way, even for the bottomless military spending budget of the Galactic Empire. The catch is this, these starfighters have appeared only with one other group each and every time: pirates. The question becomes, how do pirates, usually cash-strapped and holding together Uglies with bumble gum, come across highly advanced starfighters? The answer is they don't. So the bigger is....who are massed amounts of pirates working for? Pirates work alone or at best with two or three ships and a hide-away base in some Force-forsaken corner of the galaxy. Rarely do they get along and even more rarely do you see them in these numbers working together. And even more of a rare sight is the fact that you have well over a few hundred pirate vessels holding down the Utegetu Nebula in clear defiance of the Imperial war machine. There's only one way out of that Nebula and one way in. The pirates have it heavily mined and Imperial Intelligence believes several large enough planetary operations to build their presence. Once again, why are pirates sticking their necks out like this? They must either have a very wealthy employer or a shared enemy...or both. Either way, what Rebel, Imperial, and HRI operatives can all agree on is the fact that the Utegetu Nebula is just a distraction. These other hot points, Nilgaard Sector & Algor all share the same purpose: distraction. Any Imperial push up through the Murgo Choke and into the Utegetu will end the pirates' fun really quick, the only way in or out being mined is of little concern. HRI has intercepted reports of Imperial Naval Command positioning an Assault Fleet---some thousands of vessels---for a push up into that Nebula. That mine field would dismantle some of the Imperial attack, but once through, the overwhelming Imperial forces would make short work of anyone bold enough to oppose the Empire."

    Stakes changed the holographic view to a focus of the planet of Ansion, "So what has the Empire so afraid to allow an entire Assault Fleet sit at Ansion, it's intention to handle the Utegetu Nebula crisis, and instead act as we can see here from ship deployments---as a defensive force facing towards the Unknown Regions?"

    Stakes allowed the hologram to die and the lights came on; he addressed the Rebel turned Merc and the Bounty Hunter, "Because, for what happened at Rhen Var with the Mercs roughly a week ago now. There is another world---another universe---within the fabric of this one. The enemy---we cannot not see. They hide in places long forgotten by time----and more importantly, inaccessible except for the aid of a Red Rock Drive. Forsaken places that even us Jod----don't dare go. And where they come from....they have been massing their forces in the Unknown Regions. An army from hell is coming to burn this galaxy and everyone in it. An army not even the Galactic Empire can stop. The only question becomes, is it too late?"

    Stakes sighed, "And the more beautiful mess out of all of this? The Jod helped make those starfighters. And our worst fears----our worst enemy---is now using them. The Jod, however ironic as the saviors of the galaxy as some call us, are part of the galaxy's own destruction.

    Stakes sat down and hit a hidden button under the conference table, the conference room door sliding open, four Naval Guardsmen walking through to surround Taab and Hover, "No more will I speak of this for now. You'll be escorted to private quarters located in our elite VIP Rooms. You'll be free to roam the VIP area, it includes some fine luxuries, but you will be restricted to that area of the ship, at least for now. Please, take some time to reflect. We'll be out of hyperspace and to our destination shortly to hook up with Master Zat, "He," and Palso. Mr. Taab, you are free to depart where you wish once we exit hyperspace. But I urge you both to reflect on this conversation. If you care to listen to more, I will see you both in the Private Mess on the VIP Room level in six hours from now, where what you hear there...you'll be a changed man forever. You'll never look at the galaxy...or the Jod the same way again. Good day, gentlemen. Guards?"

    "This way, sirs," spoke the head Naval Guardsmen of the Unit.


    TAG Bardan_Jusik
    OOG: Jusik, you may post on your own accord to the VIP level. I'll have another post ready for you once you arrive at the VIP level and maybe relax for a little bit. Just a little surprise. :p [face_skull]
     
    Bardan_Jusik likes this.
  9. Sith-I-5

    Sith-I-5 Force Ghost star 6

    Registered:
    Aug 14, 2002
    IC: Engineer Bromley, Bridge Officer Bob, , Bridge, Delicate Delinquent
    Location: Florn


    Bromley staggered sideways towards the windows as the glow shining through the bridge windows, changed from blood crimson to a more natural whiteness, and then Manteroni released his steadying grip, announcing, "You owe me a favour friend."

    The engineer did not want to beholden himself to anyone, least of all a mercenary, but without Uriel's quick action, who knew what could have happened to him?
    With an air of reluctance, he nodded. "Agreed. Anything short of treason, and my first born."

    The blast doors at the rear of the bridge hummed open, just as the former Republic officer referred to them: "Bridge Officer Bob, I believe we can release the Bromley Engineer for him to make changes in the gravity well generator. For this is essential that the bridge's door is unlocked."

    "Agreed." Bob nodded. "Chief, do you have what you need?"

    Bromley patted the datapad clamped under his right armpit. "Yep, got it all here." He nodded at Bob and then Uriel, then exited through the doors, which sealed in his wake.

    The Bridge Officer noted Manteroni proceed to the windows and take a moment to watch the chaotic fighting that they were now witness to, starfighters of various types, chasing each other across space; powerful energy beams lancing across the dark firmament; and rising into sight from under their own tapered bow, the TL-1800 shuttle and lone X-Wing that they had launched, both passing close to a slowly rolling Death Sphere.

    The Jod knew those things off old. He had participated in more than one engagement against the Beasts.

    "Tactical." Bob called to the man who was his go-between to the weapons' operators throughout the ship. "Fire a volley of torpedoes into that Death Sphere; full spread."

    The Jod operator pushed his chair slightly back from the console, and swivelled round to face his superior. "Are you sure, Sir?"

    The temperature on the bridge dropped a few degrees and the background chatter halted as Bob glared back at the man, unable to say anything. Such insubordination was almost unknown in the King's Navy; Captain Stakes had threatened to space people for less!

    "It's just that we don't have that many torps, and do you really want to make us a primary target for those star destroyers out there?"

    "I think maybe we really need the "20 minutes" that dark matter promises ..."

    Bob jumped out of his chair, striding towards the tactical officer, waving out towards the Death Sphere. "You know what theat thing will do if the station's shields drop enough for it to make contact with the hull! Every Beast and abomination inside it will get a foothold on board. Now, give 'em tow torpedoes up the backside, and if you question me again, I will have you shot."

    "'Ere, steady on." Yavscout's disembodied voice interjected from the armrest speaker, but Bob took no notice.
    First of all, because he did not want to; and second, because Uriel chose that moment to scream from the windows!

    "They get inside the shields of the space station!"

    The Bridge Officer frowned at the back of the admiral, thinking, Well, oh, good-oh. That was the whole point, wasn't it?

    The man sagged against the curved triangular window frame, looking unsteady.

    "You alright, Sir?"

    Tag: Uriel Manteroni
     
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  10. Sith-I-5

    Sith-I-5 Force Ghost star 6

    Registered:
    Aug 14, 2002
    OOC: Okay, no GM seems to have taken over.

    IC: OSA Agent Halla, Pilot Officers Havoc Neb and Mary Formal, Hangar Level B-One, and TL-1800 interior, Far Reach Orbital Station.


    Standing in the shadow of one of the huge Gallofree Yards GR-75 transports, Agent Halla looked below the entry aperture through which the Merc vessel had come, where a pair of agents were manning the E-Web heavy repeating blaster which tracked the new craft till it settled.

    She did not think the passengers who were disembarking and lining up beside the ramp, has noticed them or her, yet.

    Like the several other OSA personnel lined up watchfully in the shadow of the transports, she was in a black business suit, her jacket concealing the LL30 blaster pistol tucked into the holster at the back of her knee-length pencil skirt.

    Her dark glasses flashed up with tiny writing as she focussed on each of the Mercs gathering outside the flat ellipsoid of their craft. When the grey reptiloid in the blue shrug emerged, and line up with the rest, towering over the non-plussed humanoids, her glasses could only give the species, and that it came from the "Um, Planet of the Noghri?"

    "Noghri, eh?" She muttered appreciatively. "Never thought I would see one of those." She was willing to bet that the junior tech that had populated the database that her glasses had searched, figured no-one else would see them either, otherwise he, she, or it, would have written "To be confirmed" or something of that ilk.


    * * * *
    TL-1800 freighter interior


    "Okay, that's Red Team deployed." Neb observed, watching the Mercs exiting the outer airlock via a holocam up that end. He turned as much as he could to face back into the passenger area. "Swifts, put on a nice smile and head out to that Agent Halla out there. Get directions for our second stop."

    "Put on a nice smile?" Formal echoed, scowling at the Sullustian. "Do you know how sexist that sounds?"

    "What? If she's going to be that nervous going into combat, we should perhaps prepare her for a more diplomatic role. You know the phrase about using a durasteel fist in a brocart glove-"

    Mary raised an eyebrow. "Where I come from, it's an iron fist in velvet glove."

    "No-one cares." Neb turned back to the youngster. "Swifts?"

    Tag: Laine_Snowtrekker, Mercs at the scene
     
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  11. Uriel Manteroni

    Uriel Manteroni Jedi Knight star 1

    Registered:
    Sep 24, 2014
    IC: Uriel Manteroni
    Bridge, Deck CT-6, Delicate Delinquent.
    Thought, Speech, Action, NPC, PC
    Music: http://www.vagalume.com.br/creed/my-own-prison.html

    Uriel almost fainted !! The last time he had seen a station with that design it was 30 years ago in the demonic depths of the Unknown Regions!

    Uriel remembered as if it were yesterday:

    </ </ <

    "Sir, do you want to send a patrol to ascertain ruin?" The Brigde Official asks for the Captain Uriel. At the time, Uriel was commander of a Star Destroyer Class Imperial.

    Uriel was in front of the main window of the bridge, he turned and looked at the officer, who incidentally was a lot like Bob.

    "Yes, prepare a patrol, I want 20 Stormtroopers, two specialists in equipment and the Astro-Archaeologist of crew."

    "Yes sir. "The official would turn around to give orders when Uriel says: "Also prepare my personal ship transport, we will go with it."

    The officer stared at Uriel: "Will you too?"

    Uriel: "Of course !!! Once we have found those ruins on the last planet that we attacked , do you think that I will miss the opportunity to know the Rakata's technology ??"

    > /> />

    Uriel awoke from his reverie, looked at Bob with horror eyes. He tried to recover, but it was inevitable reaction Uriel. Another flash back again Uriel:

    </ </ <

    "Sir, these symbols lines in this console has the same characters from the ruins, it is visibly being sent a message through the Rakata language". The Astro-Archaeologist said.

    Uriel was amazed, it was unbelievable that in a space station in ruins and so old, still had energy and a system working.

    Uriel: "Record this message on your datapad, I want to know what it says."

    The Stormtrooper responsible for communications with the Star Destroyer approaches: "Sir, the official bridge wants to talk to you."

    Uriel takes communicator of Stormtrooper: "Yes?"

    Official Bridge: "Sir, the Chiss commander in chief of this area, he ask for our support, because they are having problems with some rebels."

    Uriel: "Ohh damn it !! Now that things were getting interesting !!"

    Uriel: "Lieutenant !! Call the troops, we have to go back to the ship."

    > /> />

    Uriel looked deeply into Bob's eyes and said:

    "Bob ... do you believe in fate ... prophecies ...?"

    Uriel looked back at Far Reach ... spoke without looking at Bob:

    "Do you heard about the Rakatas, Bob?"

    Then Uriel continued: "Let's say a prophecy of thirty years ago can to be completed ... today ..."

    TAG: @Sith-I-5
     
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  12. Bardan_Jusik

    Bardan_Jusik Former Manager star 10 VIP - Former Mod/RSA

    Registered:
    Dec 14, 2009
    IC: Beskaryc Taab
    Conference Room A (Starboard Tower), Allegiance, King II-class Battleship

    "Yes..." Hover replied distantly to the question Commodore Stakes had asked of them before swallowing hard and going on further. "Yes, Commodore, I have," Taab's head swiveled over slowly towards the Merc. He was surprised, but of course it didn't show through his faceplate.

    "Before Taab joined the Mercs, sir. Data, myself, and Warrant...we were all aboard the Rebel Dreadnought Heavy Cruiser Red Ocean. Top secret mission gone rogue in the Expansion Regions. A course, most of the crew had no idea we were rogue from Alliance chain of command, but those that did...disappeared. So we kept our mouths shut. Anyways, we were testing a captured Red Rock Drive from a savaged King I-class Battleship. We were sent to the Expansion Region under Alliance command to conduct tests and raids against hard military targets: starfighter bases, listening posts, armed patrols. Our orders were specific: hit-and-run tactics with just the Red Ocean against hard Imperial targets, major military operations, the whole set-up. No convoy raids, no mercy missions. We were strictly a warship."

    Hover shifted uncomfortably in his chair and took a sip of a drink on the table. He was clearly disturbed by the memories this had brought up, but Taab couldn't fathom why. Such a "clean" operation, targeting only military targets seemed to be a soldier's dream. No messy civilian targets to muck things up, no moral dilemmas set up by being forced to murder "innocent" men, women or children. Something else must have happened out there to elicit such a response from the former Rebel.

    "For over one month we conducted our mission under Alliance command. Then, suddenly, we left the Expansion Region. A course we weren't told why. We were already on a top-secret mission, so we just all assumed it was part of the plan. But days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. We were hitting Imperial targets unusually hard and with unusually brutal tactics---even for Imperials---from the Outer Rim to the Expansion Region. Dropping out of Red Space, engaging Imperial targets, and disappearing and able to appear on the other side of the galaxy for another fight in seemingly just minutes. When men started to ask questions, security around the ship got tight."

    Brutal tactics often won battles, and kept you alive. Taab still wasn't seeing a problem with any of this. Nor did he understand yet what it had to do with the fighter Commodore Stakes had shown them.

    "The three of us, Data, Warrant, and myself, were all part of security. So we were tasked with keeping mouths shut. Sad thing, we even didn't know what was going on. We were just following orders. Then it happened. We were hiding out by a gas nebula---deep in dark, cold space---recharging battery cells, counting captured Imperial equipment and supplies---when those things," Hover pointed to the holo-picture starfighter, "Came out of the gas nebula. Forty-eight of them." Taab raised an eyebrow at that. 48 was a fair number, far more than could be explained by this being an experimental fighter with just a few stolen prototypes scattered about. This was a craft that was in production somewhere, for someone.

    "They swarmed us, hammered us; destroyed our starfighters and took down our shields and engines. We'd seen nothing like them before. They balanced the perfect set-up: speed, agility, and firepower in a hardened hull with good shields. The fighters must of cost a fortune, let alone the pilots needed them were next to none. We'd damaged two of them, destroyed one, but they were just better in us. The technology and firepower left us in the dust. Just when we thought we'd won, they were retreating, a ghostly looking frigate---it looked more animal and organic---then it did metal and wires, came at us, deploying other more typical Uglies of two squadrons that attacked us, combined with the frigate's firepower and our lowered shields, they took us. Boarded us. Then----those, those Beasts came aboard from that frigate. We fought deck to deck, room to room. It was no use."

    Ah, the beasts. Taab had heard other Mercs talking about them in hushed tones back aboard the Johnny Boy over the past several months. Then of course they had encountered them on the planet they had just left. That explained Hover's reactions.

    "We fought for what seemed like weeks. Our distress signals went unanswered. None of us knew we were rogue and going against Alliance High Command orders and that we were being hunted by both the Alliance AND the Imperials. By the end of the first day, what was left of us, were hiding, in small bands or tribes, trying to stay alive, recapture small parts of the ship, and get survivors. The Beasts....they never left survivors. Then we met the Mercs on the second day, who did come to our rescue, escaped that hell, and are now here."

    Stakes nodded, "The HRI gave us a full report," the Commodore added, "I'm sorry for your experience." Taab filed that away. Seemed the Jod knew about these beasties as well as the strange fighter. Taab wondered what else they knew that they weren't sharing just yet.

    "Yeah," Hover said, "I'm sorry too. I lost my faith in the Rebel Alliance that day and became a mercenary with the Mercs. As I'd figured it, if Rebels were becoming turncoats for profit and selfish gain, what made us any different then the Imperials? I became a Merc, because I believed in what Taller and his crew was fighting for: to fight the Empire, not be like it."

    Taab nearly laughed at that. At the end of the day the rebels, the Empire, the Mercs or pirates bands, none were any better than the other. In his experience everyone was in it for their own personal gain. They just differed on what form the gain took.

    Stakes changed gears now, it seemed he had already known about Hover's encounter with the fighters and the beasts. Taab had to wonder why he had asked a question he already knew the answer too though. "Three of these red spots on the map," Stakes said, redirecting to the map at hand, "Are places where this starfighter has appeared. Advanced in every way, even for the bottomless military spending budget of the Galactic Empire. The catch is this, these starfighters have appeared only with one other group each and every time: pirates. The question becomes, how do pirates, usually cash-strapped and holding together Uglies with bumble gum, come across highly advanced starfighters?" Steal them was Taab's simple answer, though he didn't vocalize it. It seemed there may be too many of the shabla things for that to be a realistic repsonse anyway. "The answer is they don't. So the bigger is....who are massed amounts of pirates working for? Pirates work alone or at best with two or three ships and a hide-away base in some Force-forsaken corner of the galaxy." Sounds a lot like the Mercs Taab thought to himself, reiterating his earlier thoughts. "Rarely do they get along and even more rarely do you see them in these numbers working together. And even more of a rare sight is the fact that you have well over a few hundred pirate vessels holding down the Utegetu Nebula in clear defiance of the Imperial war machine. There's only one way out of that Nebula and one way in. The pirates have it heavily mined and Imperial Intelligence believes several large enough planetary operations to build their presence. Once again, why are pirates sticking their necks out like this? They must either have a very wealthy employer..." Now Taab would like to know who that was, and if they were hiring. Shab, whoever headed the Mercs these days should be thinking the same thing. These pirates were defying the Empire and holding territory, something the Mercs hadn't really been able to accomplish in their one (or was it two?) ship war against the Empire. "...or a shared enemy...or both. Either way, what Rebel, Imperial, and HRI operatives can all agree on is the fact that the Utegetu Nebula is just a distraction. These other hot points, Nilgaard Sector & Algor all share the same purpose: distraction. Any Imperial push up through the Murgo Choke and into the Utegetu will end the pirates' fun really quick, the only way in or out being mined is of little concern. HRI has intercepted reports of Imperial Naval Command positioning an Assault Fleet---some thousands of vessels---"...now that was a fair bit concerning for those pirates, advanced fighters or not. "...for a push up into that Nebula. That mine field would dismantle some of the Imperial attack, but once through, the overwhelming Imperial forces would make short work of anyone bold enough to oppose the Empire."

    Stakes changed the holographic view to a focus of the planet of Ansion, "So what has the Empire so afraid to allow an entire Assault Fleet sit at Ansion, it's intention to handle the Utegetu Nebula crisis, and instead act as we can see here from ship deployments---as a defensive force facing towards the Unknown Regions?" Taab shrugged, and winced in pain at the movement in his shoulder, though he hid it well. This guy sure seemed to ask a lot of questions, most of which he already knew the answers to. Taab waited for him to answer this one as well.

    Stakes allowed the hologram to die and the lights came on; he addressed the Rebel turned Merc and the Bounty Hunter, "Because, for what happened at Rhen Var with the Mercs roughly a week ago now. There is another world---another universe---within the fabric of this one. The enemy---we cannot not see. They hide in places long forgotten by time----and more importantly, inaccessible except for the aid of a Red Rock Drive. Forsaken places that even us Jod----don't dare go. And where they come from....they have been massing their forces in the Unknown Regions. An army from hell is coming to burn this galaxy and everyone in it. An army not even the Galactic Empire can stop. The only question becomes, is it too late?"

    Stakes sighed, "And the more beautiful mess out of all of this? The Jod helped make those starfighters. And our worst fears----our worst enemy---is now using them. The Jod, however ironic as the saviors of the galaxy as some call us, are part of the galaxy's own destruction."

    Stakes sat down and hit a hidden button under the conference table, the conference room door sliding open, four Naval Guardsmen walking through to surround Taab and Hover, "No more will I speak of this for now. You'll be escorted to private quarters located in our elite VIP Rooms. You'll be free to roam the VIP area, it includes some fine luxuries, but you will be restricted to that area of the ship, at least for now. Please, take some time to reflect. We'll be out of hyperspace and to our destination shortly to hook up with Master Zat, "He," and Palso." Well looked like that mission was about to be accomplished after all. Taab stretched, his shoulder aching and sore.

    "Mr. Taab, you are free to depart where you wish once we exit hyperspace. But I urge you both to reflect on this conversation. If you care to listen to more, I will see you both in the Private Mess on the VIP Room level in six hours from now, where what you hear there...you'll be a changed man forever. You'll never look at the galaxy...or the Jod the same way again. Good day, gentlemen. Guards?"

    Taab stood up, glancing towards Hover who did the same. He had heard an awful lot here, and not much that really concerned him. He was a free agent now, able to take on any mission he wished, though he had some personal matters to attend to first. He still had to go get Atin and let him know as well. And Atin, he knew, would not be pleased with these recent developments.

    "This way, sirs," spoke the head Naval Guardsmen of the Unit. Taab nodded, gesturing to the man to lead them to the VIP level. Taab took the opportunity to look around as the passed through the corridors. His first visit to a Jod warship hadn't been quite so grand, as it had ended up with him as a "prisoner", all a part of the ploy to get him hired by the late Captain Lasso and the Mercs in the first place. This seemed to be going much, much better, and that set Taab even more on edge. Nothing was ever as it seemed with the Jod, and he didn't trust their motives or their "niceties." If he was to take this job, he would need more information, and from a better more reliable source than a Jod naval officer. Fortunately he had just such a source walking along side him. He looked over to Hover again as they were admitted to the VIP level of this ship.

    "Warrant Officer, you look like you could use a drink." He smiled a predatory smile behind his T-Visor. "Let's see what kind of hooch this rust bucket has to offer," and then we'll have a little chat. I am going to want to know as much as I can about these beasties if I am going to encounter them again.

    TAG: Bravo




    IC: Atin Taab
    TL-1800 shuttle interior

    From within the confines of his buy'ce (helmet) Atin glanced around nervously as the first team deployed out of the shuttle's airlock. "We're next," he muttered softly to himself, relieved and excited to finally be "on mission." It was then that Slick looked back to them. "Swifts, put on a nice smile and head out to that Agent Halla out there. Get directions for our second stop."

    Directions? Directions? Did Slick not know where they were going next? Did their pilot seriously not know where they needed to be dropped off? This op just kept getting better and better.

    "Swifts?" Slick asked again, but Atin was over anxious. "C'mon Slick, do some of that pilot osik and get us to..." he checked the mission briefing which he brought up on his HUD with the blink of an eye. "...Hanger level A-Three."

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

    Heavy Isotope Jedi Knight star 3

    Registered:
    Oct 10, 2013
    OOC: Quick post to cover the landing, sorry I'm skipping some of the shuttle events after my absence.

    Masha Tinovorsh
    TL-1800 Interior

    "Stay frosty out there."

    Masha gave Atin a firm backhand to the shoulder, bad idea, the armor hurt. Oh well, the return gesture should mean as much as his concern did. When the craft had entered whatever structure this was the calmness was unsettling, dim lighting... Blast, her bodyguards exited with Masha close behind.

    She looked at her datapad, the image of their contact appeared, where would she be... Masha sighed and looked around, the party taking defensive measures and scanning the side and rear flanks. It took her a moment to notice the others whom had followed her, three other personnel were on the ground with them.

    "You," she looked over holding up her datapad so the other Merc, Aidan, could see and gestured to the two large ships nearby, "our contact is most likely there."

    At least that's what made sense to her. She tried to sound confident as she spoke, her flat tone never really showed it either way. There were times where she was in command positions over her fellow cadets but she never cared for them.

    Tags: Sith-I-5, Bardan_Jusik, Tim Battershell, sorry if I missed anyone else on Green Team!
     
  14. Laine_Snowtrekker

    Laine_Snowtrekker Jedi Grand Master star 5

    Registered:
    Jul 8, 2003
    IC: Swifts
    Shuttle

    Neb turned and face them. "Swifts, put on a nice smile and head out to that Agent Halla out there. Get directions for our second stop."

    He didn't know where they were supposed to go next? Wasn't he supposed to be the pilot? Neb faced Formal and was talking to her

    And what was that about a smile? Swifts scowled on purpose and glared toward the back of Neb's head. No one--not even someone she saw as an experienced authority--was going to tell her to do anything with her face. Not after all the etiquette lectures wherein she'd been told that her grin was out of place with the demure thin lines barely curved up at the edges all around her. Not after the dinner parties where, upon attempting the beatific barebones smile, she'd been told to 'smile more' because she'd looked like she was grimacing. You'd be grimacing, too, if everyone told you what to do with your face and didn't like the results when you tried.

    No siree, no smiles from this gal. Not today and not right now. Today was not a day for diplomacy.

    Mostly. She dropped the glare. Today was not a day to make enemies, either, especially of her teammates. Don't argue with the designated driver, Swifts.

    Neb twisted in his seat again. "Swifts?"

    "C'mon Slick, do some of that pilot osik and get us to..." Scorch paused for the briefest of moments, as if he was checking notes during a speech. "...Hanger level A-Three."

    Saved by the Mandalorian. Thank the Smuggler.

    Did all helmets like that have computers? That was definitely a useful feature; it also partially explained how Mandalorians like Atin and his father had reputations of knowing things before they were supposed to. The other part was probably good networking. That part she was more familiar with--good networking was the politician's--and the smuggler's--bread and butter.

    "Well, I don't know what osik means," Swifts said, "but seems as if Scorch here has spared me from having to do anything clever with my face. If we could reserve that for a future diplomatic situation, it would be much appreciated."

    Swifts hoped she wouldn't come across as too defiant or sarcastic, but if Neb--sorry, apparently it was Slick during missions--needed the information and Scorch had it, she didn't need to hop out of the shuttle. And she therefore didn't need to paste on a grimace and pretend to be nice, either. Today was not a day for being nice.

    TAG: Bardan_Jusik, Sith-I-5
     
  15. Sith-I-5

    Sith-I-5 Force Ghost star 6

    Registered:
    Aug 14, 2002
    IC: Crewperson Allisettte, Pilot Officers Havoc Neb and Mary Formal, outside and inside the TL-1800 shuttle, Hangar Level B-One, Far Reach Orbital Station
    Location: Florn


    As she stepped out from the relative safety of the transport's airlock, Allisette looked up and out through the main plexiglase pane of the helmet that she had donned whilst inside.

    The pilot had made no report of whether the air was safe or not, so she had donned it as a precaution, but she was too busy regarding the inside of the unfamiliar hangar with some trepidation, to notice that the two Jod, and her Noghri pal, were not only breathing just fine, but deploying into a defensive semi-circle around Edge, Green Leader and herself, silently awaiting orders.

    Although she had adjusted to the Delicate Delinquent like a Quarren to water, the Organisation base, being a space station, was too much like the deep space Imperial prison where she had been incarcerated for far too long to think about.

    "You-" Edge seemed to protest as Allisette scraped past her in retreat, her back hitting the side of the ship, and she could feel beads of moisture on her upper lip, and hear herself inhaling and exhaling heavily within the helmet.

    She put a gloved hand on the butt of the E-11 holstered on her blue hip, and gripped it hard for reassurance.

    Masha's voice continued, "-our contact is most likely there.""

    * * * *
    TL-1800 interior

    Despite it being clear to the Sullustan that he had not built the Far Reach Orbital Station himself, or been here any longer than the rest of the Mercs; plus they all knew how useless Agent Alpha's briefing had been, Scorch chimed in, in opposition to his request to the youngling.

    "C'mon Slick, do some of that pilot osik and get us to..." The young Mandalorian paused, his buyce dipping down ever so slightly. "...Hanger level A-Three."

    "Well, I don't know what osik means" Swifts said, "but seems as if Scorch here has spared me from having to do anything clever with my face. If we could reserve that for a future diplomatic situation, it would be much appreciated."

    "Well, I do know what it means," Neb countered seriously, "and if I hear it again from either of you, I will be washing your mouths out with soap!"

    "Okay!" Mary interjected brightly before this could deteriorate any further. She was unsure if her...secret agreement with the Security Chief meant that she should stick up for Atin, or not. "We might actually know the way to Aurek-Three." Ooh, get me; She thought in a moment of pride, using Aurabesh like a native.

    Havoc glanced at her. "We might?"

    She nodded, pulling her datapad into her lap again. "Last instructions to come through, were directions to that location, but from the DD, not-" She paused as the pictures once again adorned her screen:

    [​IMG]

    Okay, she remembered wrong. The update had not featured actual directions, but what the structure that had the second hangar, looked like. "Scorch," She called, "does your boycee' computer have an exterior image of Hangar Level Aurek-Three? If so, we could do with you, up here in the cockpit." She looked across at Neb, "Take off, and back us out of the hangar, far enough that we can get a view of the cityscape. I think we are close to our destination."

    The Arcateenian felt a small thrill at the issuing of orders. She was normally a follower, not a leader, though her thoughts travelled back to a time when she had spent a few days as a military officer...

    She missed Neb caustically asking what had befallen her last slave, even as he applied power to the craft's repulsors.

    Tag: Laine_Snowtrekker, Heavy Isotope, Bardan_Jusik, Tim Battershell
     
  16. galactic-vagabond422

    galactic-vagabond422 Force Ghost star 4

    Registered:
    Jul 11, 2009
    IC: Owen Byrne
    Delicate Delinquent, Deck Eight, Owen's Bunk

    He didn't know if it had been minutes, or hours, not that it mattered, there was nothing for him to do. He was on some sort of medical hold, possibly for the headache that stabbed him in the center of his mind. He'd tried resting just letting the whole situation pass him by but, he couldn't. His mind was restless, voices played on repeat in his head, his father's especially. One eye opened nothing had changed no one had entered, and his armor still lay on the floor. It was dirty and he wanted so desperately to clean it, to make it shine like it was new.

    A wearing a dirty set of armor wouldn't do, not for what he represented. Out of combat he was a symbol of power and of dedication, uncared for armor undermined that image. A deep breath left him as he swung his legs over the side of the bunk. He had to remind himself of something, he wasn't that, not right now. He had a part to play, what exactly that was, he didn't know, it was not his place to know until the time was right. Until then he was to wear a mask.

    Slowly, carefully he put on his grimy armor. With each piece he put on he felt secure, safe, hidden behind the durasteel. Once his hard exoskeleton was fully in place, minus the helmet, he stood facing a wall.

    His heels clicked as he brought them together, drawing himself up to his full height. His right hand snapped into a salute, the kind his father taught him, the kind drilled into him at the academy, the kind you can never forget. There was no commanding officer the required such formality, nor any function that demanded this act of respect, in fact he thought none aboard this vessel were deserving of this honor.

    No, this was for him, a small gesture to remind him of who he was, of what he really was deep down. As he lowered his hand, he widened his stance and rolled his shoulders, letting them drop ever so slightly. It was a more 'comfortable' way to stand, but one that wasn't keeping with the highest standards, the standards he was trained to. He slipped his helmet on, there was no mirror, nothing to show his reflection but, he knew his expression. Eyes set in duracrete, with a gaze that looks right though you, the corners of his mouth turned down in almost but, not quite a frown, the rest of his face was slack, unmoved by anything.

    A long blink and a deep breath and he was ready, ready to do nothing. A sharp stab of pain in the middle of his brain told him that there was something he could do. Visit medical and ask for anything to help with the small animal that had taken up residence in his skull. Putting the strap of his Z-6 over his shoulder, he looked around for his pistol. It was a few moments before he remembered that it was missing. Another thing he could do, visit the armory and get a replacement, it wouldn't do to walk around with an empty holster.

    First things first, the pain was becoming annoying, he would like it gone. He exited the room and made his way to medbay. As he did his gate lengthened, taking full advantage of his long legs, his head swayed ever so slightly, the rod that seemed to replace his spine had softened just a bit, lending to a more relaxed posture as he went along his way. Entering medical he noted a nurse and a few droids along with a coupe medics.

    "Doc," he called out to no one in particular, "Got anything for a headache, feels like my blinking skull is two frelling sizes too small." As he looked around, his eyes hidden by the faceplate of his helmet, he found something, laying on a bed right near the entrance, his blaster. "Chaos take me," he said aloud, "How'd this end up here." He walked over and picked it up, in that moment he heard a voice.

    "Have you experienced or witnessed a life threatening event that caused intense fear, helplessness," it wasn't a voice he was used to, it wasn't part of the cast that inhabited his dreams and quiet moments.

    "Yes," He shook his head hearing his own voice. No, he had no fear, he would never allow himself to feel helpless. He had years of the best training and was outfitted with the best equipment in the galaxy, kept to the highest of standards, there was nothing that could hurt him that he couldn't kill with extreme prejudice. He let out a sharp breath, must have been his imagination, a trick played by the beast pounding on his brain pan.

    "Could you crinking hurry it up please, I've got other things to do." He called out again, voice growling as he slapped a blaster pack into his pistol. He kept his finger outside of the trigger guard as he quickly inspected it. After assuring himself that it was fine and quickly put it in its place, letting out a brief sigh. He felt a little better now that he had all his gear on him. He crossed his arms and rolled his shoulders back exuding annoyance, more at the strife in his head than at the perceived slow service. Right now he wanted to be anywhere else, but he needed something for this pain.

    TAG: Sith-I-5
     
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  17. Sith-I-5

    Sith-I-5 Force Ghost star 6

    Registered:
    Aug 14, 2002
    IC: Commander Yavscout, Dak, Auxilary Command, TIE Hangar, Delicate Delinquent
    Location: Florn


    Yavscout was studying the situation outside very carefully, watching several star destroyer analogues shooting turbolaser bolts into the sides of the flattened sphere of force field surrounding the Organisation space station, and not wanting any part of that for his cruiser.

    He knew that humans were guilty of limiting their space conflicts to one up-down plane, and with everyone on a level with each other, whereas some non-human races, and droids, come to that, were happy to mix up the levels a bit, so, something like the Battle of Coruscant, that had immediately preceded the Jedi Purge carried out by the Empire, had had stacked battles between capital ships, above the planet.

    Here, the invaders were paying no attention to the northern or southern poles of the force field.

    Far as he could see, as he frowned at the repeater screens, and data readouts, the best position for the Delicate Delinquent would be above or below the poles, close above, or close below the station.

    "Uh-oh." Dak, the protocol droid still seated to Yav's left, chimed in. "we've got company coming from below."

    The elf glanced at the holocam screen showing the situation below their lower hull, spying two of the unfamiliar starfighters flying up at them from a lower vector.

    "Record that footage." He ordered, then leaned back past the droid to get line-of-sight on his 'neice'. "Aurora, we have incoming. Get into position in case-"

    He stopped talking as soon as she rolled off the wall, and ducked through the dark section of corridor on the way to the illuminated end that was the Mobile Command Base' driving section, and returned to the screens.

    The enemy fighters had turned upside-down to skim along the DD's underside from stern to bow, peppering the grey hull with blaster fire from chin-mounted emplacements.

    A downward-aimed internal holocam caught both fighters blurring past the ventral hangar aperture without coming in, which was a relief, although a single bolt exploded harmlessly on the forward wal of the vertical tunnel that would have brought them up into the ship if they had that in mind.

    "We are going to have to launch the TIEs, Commander. We don't have much anti-fighter defense down there."

    A concerned Yav waved at the screen. "But they're not shielded; we won't have a defensive screen for long."

    "They don't have to sit still and wait to be shot, do they? Besides, they have trained for this."

    The elf reached for the comlink stalk. "Bridge from Auxilary Command. Launch sufficient TIEs to protect our lower part, then take the ship under the station. I want us out of the way of those star destroyers."

    "Understood." Bob acknowledged after a pause. "I will remind the gunners to watch their targets, make sure they don't fire upon our TIEs."

    "Yeah, you do that. Once the DD is in the new position, contact the station to send their first evac' shuttle over."

    Yav sat back to watch the multiple screens, piece together in his mind the big picture from the myriad views.

    An internal cam, showing a main corridor on Deck Eight, showed an armoured being loping stiffly towards Medical.

    * * * *

    The Interdictor cruiser lowered its nose down from horizontal, and flared its three main ion engines, enough to push it slowly towards the lower curves of the shield surrounding Far Reach.

    Tag: No-one
     
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  18. Bravo

    Bravo Force Ghost star 6

    Registered:
    Sep 10, 2001
    IC: Tora Senshi
    Forest Planet


    The burning debris from space were still falling to the ground from the Star Destroyer, engulfing whole areas of the rain soaked forested mountains in flames. The wet ground and light rain drizzle would turn the burning material into sizzling reminders of the cost of war, the suddenly hot material popping and bending with cooling temperatures and filling the forest with ungodly sounds.

    Tora looked up through the forested canopy, watching as flaming debris shot downwards from the still exploding Star Destroyer in low orbit now above. He watched as the fiery objects shot through the sky, their black tails of smoke following. Some pieces of debris would keep flying out of his vision, others would land among the ground in awe-striking ground impacts. Soon, life pods would be landing, and surely Tora would be captured.

    None of it mattered, however, as Tora sat there up against a tree holding Jason Lasso's lifeless corps. Kage had called Lasso The Man of Many Sorrows.

    Yes, Lasso had been a tortured man. Tortured and haunted by his past. But...words could not express Tora's totally destroyed mind. Lasso was called to be the new Chosen One...Tora had felt it. Master Zat had felt it...

    Instead, here Lasso was, dead.

    What was the Force's plan? Tora was a man of war, a man of directed action. But even now, a lone tear escaped the man's solid blue eyes and over his black mask.

    Was he crying for Lasso? Was he crying for the Force?

    Was he crying for himself?

    For the first time since he was a boy, he felt something.

    He could feel.

    And suddenly one tear lead to many and those many started to turn into sobbing.

    What was this feeling? A feeling escaped that him since childhood, since his master's death at the hands of Chiss.

    The rope that had come down from the craft above was for him. Laying Lasso's head down, knowing that a man's body was just his body and his soul was already elsewhere, Tora grabbed the man's modified A280 blaster rifle, extra ammo and equipment, and nodded as he tugged on the rope three times and held on tight. Soon, the rope pulled him through the forest and up to the ship waiting above.

    The Force had kept Tora alive from the death of the lightsaber and alive from the death of the fall. Now, as he neared the belly of the freighter through the forest, it was time to find out why he was kept alive...


    No Tag
     
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  19. Laine_Snowtrekker

    Laine_Snowtrekker Jedi Grand Master star 5

    Registered:
    Jul 8, 2003
    IC: Swifts
    Shuttle

    "Well, I do know what it means," Neb responded, "and if I hear it again from either of you, I will be washing your mouths out with soap!"

    "I'd like to see him try that," Swifts muttered, low enough that only Scorch (and maybe Jeth, who'd been standing there stoically) would hear. Neb wasn't her father and she could say whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted.

    But, good to remember that curse words were some of the first words someone usually learned in a new language. If it wasn't forbidden or anything, maybe Scorch would teach her some more. Still, probably a good idea not to use the word around Slick. Also probably good not to use it until she knew what the word meant.

    "Scorch," Mary called from the cockpit, "does your boycee' computer have an exterior image of Hangar Level Aurek-Three? If so, we could do with you, up here in the cockpit."

    Swifts could hear Mary giving orders and Neb responding sarcastically, but she could also feel the shuttle moving. Good, they weren't gonna make her go out there. It was gonna be bad enough when they arrived to escort the VIPs. They didn't even know how many VIPs there were.

    TAG: Sith-I-5, Mitth_Fisto, Bardan_Jusik
     
  20. Bardan_Jusik

    Bardan_Jusik Former Manager star 10 VIP - Former Mod/RSA

    Registered:
    Dec 14, 2009
    IC: Atin Taab
    TL-1800 shuttle interior

    "Well, I don't know what osik means," Swifts said, "but seems as if Scorch here has spared me from having to do anything clever with my face. If we could reserve that for a future diplomatic situation, it would be much appreciated." Atin let out a laugh at Swift's quick response. Seemed she didn't appreciate Slick's demeanor.

    "Well, I do know what it means," Slick wasn't amused, or maybe he just didn't like getting called out like that, "and if I hear it again from either of you, I will be washing your mouths out with soap!" Atin laughed again, this time even harder. "I'd like to see him try that," Swifts muttered just loudly enough for Atin to hear. He gave her a friendly "punch" to the shoulder. winking to her (though she couldn't see that through his faceplate) "You and me both Swifts."

    "Okay!" PO Formal interjected clearly trying to calm things down before they got out of control. Shab, Atin thought. He should have known better. There was an op on, he had to act professional here rather than take things personally. Formal continued on. "We might actually know the way to Aurek-Three...."

    "Scorch," She called back to him, "does your boycee'" shabla aruetiise (foreigners) always mispronouncing things, "computer have an exterior image of Hangar Level Aurek-Three? If so, we could do with you, up here in the cockpit." Seemed she was premature in thinking the flight crew knew where the hanger was. "On my way up," Atin replied, moving forward as he felt the craft taking back off with a lurch. The sudden movement caught him by surprise and he started to fall back into Swift's lap before catching himself, grabbing onto the bulkhead. "Sorry," he apologized briefly to her. He was embarrassed by the near fall, but figured his bucket would hide that fact from her and Spook.

    Once up in the cockpit, he took a moment to look around before calling up the information from the briefing. "Oh," he let out, concerned by what he saw, or rather didn't see. "I... I don't actually have that..." Now he was really embarrassed, though he had recorded everything, it seemed he didn't have an exterior image of the hanger stored in his bucket's memory. At least not one labeled as such. That could mean only one thing. "Looks like we were never forwarded that information, not the boarding teams anyway." He flashed through several images on his HUD. "Just general images of the station's exterior. Nothing concerning approach routes, guide marks...nothing." He knew where to go, just not how to get there. He assumed the pilots would have had that information given to them. At least now he knew better which questions he should have asked before they had left, not that it would do them any shabla good now.

    TAG: Sith-I-5, Laine_Snowtrekker, Mitth_Fisto
     
  21. Sith-I-5

    Sith-I-5 Force Ghost star 6

    Registered:
    Aug 14, 2002
    IC: Nurse Ulrike, Medical, Deck Eight, Delicate Delinquent
    Location: Florn


    Squatting to audit the medicine packs inside a floor-level cabinet, when the door to the corridor, audibly slid open, Ulrike had to stand so she could turn around, pulling down on the hem of her white short-sleeved medical frock. She was not part of the DD's regular crew, nor seen its crew manifest, so upon seeing a fully armoured and helmeted abo in scuffed Katarn III plates, she did not instantly think it was Byrne.

    "Doc," he called out without facing her, stopping before the first bed. "Got anything for a headache, feels like my blinking skull is two frelling sizes too small."

    Well, she could think of a trio of painkillers straight off, Comaren, Brainpain-Eaze and Perigen. She wryly recalled that some wags claimed that Brainpain-Eaze had in fact been the language of the little known Brainpain people.

    "So what do you normally take?" She asked, thinking that she had seen packs of Comaren in the still open cabinet. "And is there anything you are allergic to?"

    He seemed to mutter himself as he holstered a weapon, and since he still had his bucket on, she assumed he was talking to someone else via its comlink. She knew that convo' had ended when he raised his voice to growl "Could you crinking hurry it up please, I've got other things to do."

    She glanced around for the medical officer, spying him behind the plexiglase of the doctor's office, at the far end of the ward, and sighed, "Alright, fine."

    She retrieved a flimsi box of Comaren from the cupboard she had been perusing, extracted two white caplets and put them into a small dinky plastic cup, and filled a glass half-full with water, then took both over to the soldier.

    The blonde nurse looked up into a severe-looking face mask that only a metal worker could love, and sarcastically enquired, "So how do you plan to take these?"

    Tag: galactic-vagabond422
     
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  22. Intervention

    Intervention Jedi Knight star 2

    Registered:
    Oct 1, 2012
    IC: Post Security Office & Security Check Point; Warrant Officer Hover
    VIP Rooms, Allegiance, King II-class Battleship, hyperspace


    The Naval Guard Junior Crewmen looked back over his shoulder to the Post Officer standing several feet behind him inside the Post Security Office, "Sir, they've arrived."

    The Gunnery Petty Officer took a step forward and looked at the display screen showing the holocamera of the approaching bounty hunter and Merc being escorted by the Naval Guards to the Security Check Point, "So it seems," retracing his steps and turning his head to the left, the Post Officer spoke to the Naval Guard to the console to his left, "Recruit Crewmen, have a protocol droid dispatched immediately to assist our newly arrived guests."

    The Naval Guard nodded, "Yes, sir," and started depressing buttons accordingly on his console.


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

    Security Check Point, VIP Rooms


    The Security Checkpoint Officer-in-Charge's eyes widen as the sensors beeped multiple times in alarm and red warning lights flashed on the console screen to his front with multiple warnings as a certain bounty hunter named Beskaryc Taab passed through the checkpoint after Hover. A naive and foolish Naval Guard Recruit Crewmen dropped his sensor baton and put his hand on his cutlass sword, in some vain attempt to stop a man who clearly towered over him in not only size but in strength as well.

    "At ease, Recruit Crewmen," ordered the SCO, "He's VIP and has been granted his," the SCO sized the bounty hunter up and down, "Armory."

    The Recruit Crewmen nodded, relaxing and gathering his sensor baton up.

    "Oh!" played a new voice up ahead deeper into the VIP Rooms, "There you are!"

    Hover rolled his eyes and groaned, wanting nothing more then to take Taab up on his offer for a drink, and said quietly "I hate droids!"

    The shiny silver 3PO-series protocol droid came to a stop, "So glad you are both here! My name is A-3PO, Human-Cyborg relations! I was told I would be expecting some very important guests," the droid pointed a finger to the pair (their earlier Naval Guard escort from Stakes had already departed back the way they had come), "Which I am certain are you two!" the droid looked around the pair, "Well, I don't see any baggage I need to assist you with today. So, if you will follow me, I will show you around the VIP Rooms and get you to your own personal quarters. Follow me, please."

    The droid lead the pair throughout the VIP Rooms section after passing through a heavy blast door that closed to either side, showing them the immediately available row of twelve rooms (6 to each side), which housed the State & VIP Rooms to each side of the corridor as they entered. He explained how each of them would have their own private room. After the rooms, he showed them the circular lobby area with four two-seat red couches along the walls with exotic plants interwoven between them; the drpoid talked about from there where the circular lobby had four corridors leading out of it; one back to the rooms, one ahead which lead to the distance Private Mess Hall #2 and Safe Room; the corridor to port lead to the gym and Post Security Office, while the corridor to Starboard lead to the private entertainment room and wet bar, which both featured a view of outer space through viewports. The whole VIP area floor was gray carpeted with several exotic plants along the corridors with various holographic imagines of the Kingdom of Jod along the egg white corridors' walls with recessed lighting in the ceiling; a solid granite rock strip ran along the corridors on either side roughly waist high.

    Once he was done, the droid lead them back to their own VIP Rooms and showed them in.


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

    It hadn't been much later when Hover stepped out of his VIP Room, refreshed from a shower that featured real running water. He threw on his Merc Jacket outside his room and looked both ways down the corridor, nodding to two passing Naval Guards on patrol who nodded back to him, looking for Taab...


    TAG Bardan_Jusik

     
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  23. galactic-vagabond422

    galactic-vagabond422 Force Ghost star 4

    Registered:
    Jul 11, 2009
    IC: Owen Byrne
    Delicate Delinquent, Deck Eight, Med bay

    "So how do you plan to take these?" the blonde nurse asked presenting the armored being with a cup of water and meds.

    "Easy, Blondie." He started removing his helmet. He first took the cup with the two white pills and threw them into his mouth. Dropping the plastic vessel on the ground he took the water and downed it all in one gulp, washing down the medication. He also dropped this cup, letting it clatter to the floor, and replaced his helmet. "Like that." He turned on his heel and moved swiftly out of the space. His head still pounded but, he knew he had to give the meds time to work.

    Taking the turbo lift the pain in his head was temporarily replaced by dizziness, and nausea in his stomach. He pressed a hand to his right ear. He got flashes of scenes, disjoined, and out of place. A pit, voices, a bulky being lying on the ground face bloodied. Owen's ear was ringing, his left knee hurt, both hands ached with slightly broken knuckles. An eye was swollen shut and a welt was growing on his cheek. When did this happen, why? Did he do it to gain respect, or was it just for fun, watch two big guys beat the sithspit out of each other. The room spun and then the lift stopped on deck four, the hangar deck. The soldier's guts settle and the bile falls back down.

    He let out a soft grunt leaving the car his boots hit the deck of the main hanger. Not much was happening the TL-1800 was gone most likely on its mission. That left one question, what the brix was he doing here? There was no one to keep an eye on and it seemed rather peaceful. Would probably be a few hours until anyone came back. Maybe he'd be better off if he went back to his bunk.

    TAG: Sith-I-5
     
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  24. Intervention

    Intervention Jedi Knight star 2

    Registered:
    Oct 1, 2012
    IC: OSA Halla
    Hangar Level B-One, Far Reach Orbital Station


    Things had become intriguing once the Mercs had arrived. And it wasn't the fact that Halla held down, it could be argued, one of the most important hanger bays on all of the station with herself and two additional OSAs in the midst of a threat of enemy boarding action.

    No, none of that was her concern. Her concern was more universally shared in the belief that both The Organization and Mercs had walked into the perfect trap. Someone was supplying the Neoteric Navy & Starfighter Corps with information. Who that someone was, was unknown. But whoever it was, they had it out for the Mercs. While The Organization had yet to crack the encryption, a tight beamed data burst was sent to what was believed to be the flagship of this overkill of an assault. Suddenly, the Neoteric fleet, with all it's firepower, stopped.

    While one Death Sphere had been destroyed, the other one had returned to it's mother ship, as had all escorts & starfighters.

    Halla was no fool and neither was The Organization----and she hoped the Mercs were the wiser as well. Someone had told that Neoteric fleet to stop; the Star Destroyers had redeployed to a more net-like formation, intent on blockading and preventing escape. But all of this seemed counter to their original plan, where an all-out assault would of been better with their numbers.

    No, someone wanted the Mercs right where The Organization was. Then, with everyone nice and cozy aboard this death tin trap, they would attack, in mass, and take out both The Organization and the Mercs in a final hit. Halla had heard the stories of the Mercs and she could have only guessed at who they pissed off. She heard the list was growing.

    Regardless of her fears, Halla knew her job. Massacre or not, she would fulfill her mission to the letter.

    "Mercs, I presume?" she called out at the arrival of the mercenaries, "OSA Halla. Who's in command, here?"


    TAG Tim Battershell, Sith-I-5, anyone else








    IC: Squadron Commander Joaquin Eraid
    Deinonychus Leader,Deinonychus Squadron; FAIR Raptor-class Fighter / Interceptor, Neoteric Starfighter Corps


    Joaquin's starfighter dropped out of the Star Destroyer's hanger bay, again, this time refueled and rearmed. Despite the many thanks for the fuel, Joaquin could not contain his rage and disappointment as he reluctantly ordered his fellow squadron pilots into a skirmish line ahead of Alpha Group's 4 Star Destroyers, supported by three additional Neoteric TIE Fighter squadrons. Four additional squadrons of the TIE Fighters swooped in & out of Alpha Group on patrol and escort formations. The rest of the group's starfighters were held back on ready scramble in case of battle.

    Just minutes ago, Death Spheres and sarfighters alike were plunging holes through the Organization's defenses, advancing on all fronts. The battle would of been done in less then twenty minutes with the Neoteric's overwhelming firepower & numbers. Instead, just before victory was in their grasp, their advance was ordered to stop and all forces were to redeploy into a blockade like formation to prevent escape.

    Despite being among the more well-informed mercenaries working for the Neoteric Navy and before that, the Kingdom of Jod, Joaquin could not understand who would order such a delay.


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    IC: General Preeminent Hilick Soal
    Bridge, Assertor-class Star Dreadnought Darkest Night, hyperspace


    Soal glanced back to Rear Admiral Tod Dab, "ETA, Admiral?"

    Dab checked his wrist watch, "Twenty minutes, General Preeminent."

    Soal sighed, standing at the forefront of the bridge near the viewports with Ysanne Isard standing to his left, her arms crossed over her chest as she stared at the blue tunnel of hyperspace. Behind them by 5 yards was Rear Admiral Tod Dab and
    Commodore William Anderson; no one else dared to get any closer to Isard, least risk death.

    "I don't like this," Hilick Soal voiced frankly, "Taking liberties over my ship and my mission. I have power within the Imperial Court."

    Isard didn't so much turn her head his way as she spoke, "The Emperor has ordered me to find a solution to this problem plaguing us from the Unknown Regions. Your fleet was the closet to me and the Darkest Night the best combat option once Imperial Intelligence confirmed the events surrounding the Far Reach Orbital Station; it was much easier and quicker to just detach the Darkest Night from your operation then your whole fleet, so we brought just you. As the Emperor's left arm, as Vader is his right arm, you are tasked with eliminating the enemies of the Empire not associated with the Rebel Alliance, as the Rebels are Vader's concern. This enemy, whoever they are, is within your scope of operation."

    "At my desire to engage or not," Hilick reminded her frankly.

    "I am told you are well aware of the Emperor's wrath for failures," Isard replied equally as frank.

    A piecing cold shot through Hilick's body at the memory of his death at the Emperor's hands and then being brought back to life by the Emperor, "You have no idea what it's like."

    Isard finally turned her head towards him, "That I know. And I wish to keep it that way. You need me, Hilick. And I need you. If I don't resolve this problem or give the Emperor creditable progress, you know my fate. No one, not even you, will stop me from avoiding a fate such as yours."

    "And where," Hilick said, turning his head to her with a smile, "In this do I need you?"

    Isard smiled sweetly with a evil smile, "There are things even you, General Preeminent, do not know about the Imperial Court or about Lord Vader. If you are to replace Vader, you will need me and the information I can provide you."

    Hilick replied evenly, "I see."

    In his mind, Hilick was satisfied. So it appeared even the limitless resources of Imperial Intelligence hadn't caught onto his true plan yet. Everyone thought he was aiming to replace Darth Vader. No, no. Vader was too small of a goal. Hilick had much bigger plans for the Emperor's destiny then replacing Vader as his pet enforcer.


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    Sith-I-5 and Tim Battershell like this.
  25. Laine_Snowtrekker

    Laine_Snowtrekker Jedi Grand Master star 5

    Registered:
    Jul 8, 2003
    IC: Swifts
    Shuttle

    Scorch grabbed the bulkhead before he would have fallen into her lap. "Sorry," he said.

    Swifts shrugged. "No problem," she said as he made his way to the cockpit. It would have been embarrassing had he fallen onto her, or if their situations had been reversed--she may be agile but the shuttle's movements were unpredictable. However, Scorch probably wasn't embarrassed at all. Or, if he was, his helmet hid it well. Swifts was more worried that if he had fallen on her, that armor would have hurt.

    Why didn't they give us the directions we needed? she asked. Swifts didn't want to be mistrustful of the Jod or the Organization, but there was something off about that. Something...hinky, as Calla, Jasan's mom, would say. Insightful woman, she was. And Uncle Roy had told her to trust her instincts.

    Could it be a trap? Did the Organization actually want the VIPs to be rescued? If they didn't, it would explain the lack of useful intel--and shifting the blame onto the Mercs would be an easy backdoor from having to shoulder it themselves. Her impression of Alpha and the other agents was that they were like any other semi-official government intelligence agency--shifty, sketchy, and seriously untrustworthy. They'd fit in well in the shadows in Imperial circles, that was certain. Of course, that might be what they wanted the Mercs to think. And maybe they hadn't given the intel because they simply didn't have it.

    Which pointed to them being massively incompetent, another trait of semi-official government intelligence agencies. Swifts supposed that a third option existed, that the lack of intel wasn't due to incompetence, but that the Organization had been blocked from getting good intel. But that would mean that a third party had it out for either the Organization or the Mercs (or both), and that they had to know how both the Organization and the Mercs worked. That would point to a spy of some sort.

    But that would also mean that the Organization would be content with undertaking an operation with subpar intelligence, which went back to the ill intent or major incompetence question. Swifts didn't know what the answer was, either.

    Swifts also didn't know which was worse, malicious intent or massive incompetence. Either one could get her, her teammates, or the VIPs killed, and she wasn't pleased with that one bit.

    No sir, not one little bit.

    And it seemed that she wasn't the only one out of sorts with the sketchy mission parameters, either. Spook hadn't said a word and Slick was palpably tense, though that could be due to the less than favorable flying conditions.

    What were her instincts telling her?

    To be on guard.

    TAG: Sith-I-5, Bardan_Jusik, Mitth_Fisto