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

IC: Scout Sgt. Orlisan Cade, OS-702, bridge of the ISD Gaurantor
Locations: Florn system edge

The bridge of the Guarantor was busy. The crew minding their tasks with a crisp urgency. No one wanted to be the man to make a mistake and arouse the wrath of the Captain, or the Saber Guard on board. The Empire didn't take kindly to mistakes, and they sure as hell didn't tolerate weakness. Even the bottom feeders, the smart ones anyway, learned alternative ways to ensure their survival. Snitching out fellow troopers was never the first choice for an Imperial cog but when you were put against the execution wall, you had to think fast. Watching your back was as necessary a skill as being a marksman, and Cade knew how to cover his tracks well.

"Bring that ship into our bay." the captain called out.

"Opportunity knocks." thought to himself. Restlessness had set in since being assigned to the Guarantor, even his workouts below decks weren't able to quiet his busy mind.

"Special One?" the captain called out in a placating tone.

Cade could see the Saber Guard respond as his stance unfurled into a proud posture and began conversing with MacKellar. The Scout could feel the anticipation building inside him. Already sure the captain would need a strike team, the trooper acted upon his intuition and radioed ahead.

"Recon Sgt. OS-143 to Hanger Control.."

His assigned number rolled off his tongue like a stamp. He had used his designation so much he sometimes forgot his name.

"Go ahead 143."

"Ready a boarding vessel, the Captain is sending a strike team to clean up the trash."

"Copy that Sgt, proceed to Docking Bay 279. Out."

SG-12 bowed before the captain, then turned and briskly walked towards the bridge entry where Cade stood.

"Corporal, Sergeant, whatever, prepare your men. And call ahead for a TIE Boarding Craft. We have a ship to capture."

"Roger that." he kept his enthusiasm hidden within his tone and without another word, followed SG-12 through the bridge doors. On his way out he forwarded the rally command to his corporal with the corresponding docking bay he was given. He would give his squad the brief before boarding.

At this point, Cade could sense he was on the precipice of something, something he couldn't put a finger on. The name of Oscar Chills still sat in the back of his mind like an out-of-place painting. The turbolift was already waiting for he and SG-12 as they entered and began their descent.

TAG: Sith-I-5

 

IC: FARP Agent Basset, lobby area, just outside of Hangar Three-A, Far Reach Orbital Station
Locations: Florn


Standing by the gold-plated sides of the escalator's lowest point, Basset looked warily around the carpeted and finely appointed lobby, waiting for the group to proceed up after Agent Barnes.

Basset had no fear of the Empire just yet, unwittingly drawing comfort from not knowing the big picture.

The Empire did not know the Organisation were here, so they must have just happened upon them. And after the Rebel Alliance took out that Death Star, the largest mobile platform the Imperial Navy had was their Imperial-class Star Destroyer, far as he knew anyway.

An ImpStar couldn't take this place, so he had to figure they had plenty of time to evac' before the Imps became a problem.

"They'll start to worry," Lazaerinian muttered loud enough for the agent to overhear. "When do we start to worry?"

Basset's expanding smile froze under his face hood, the hairs on the back of his neck rising at....something. He narrowed his eyes, trying to determine what was causing the reaction.
Was on of those shadows, something more?

"When green horn starts worrying about her pay for this gig." One of the Merc's said behind him. "Nothing to do but get the weight out and hit the after burners." There was a pause, then he followed with, "Come on lets move it!"
The last instruction sounded like it was coming from the trooper's right, an elevated right. At least one of these mynocks was moving.

He felt terribly exposed here, and slid the palm of his black fingerless gloves over the downward-pointing E-11 carbine's stock to finger the power activation stud.

The agent's eyes crossed at the sight of his grey breath just in front of his nose! What?

A hundred metres away, within half-a-metre of the white-panelled reception counter, the air was shimmering, distorted, a definite two-metre high portal had formed, and, Oh brix, a black, long-fingered hand and arm was coming through!

"Uh....hide!" he whispered harshly, spinning and dropping into a squat on the polished escalator lowest step, discovering he really was the last one, the others at least halfway up the moving walkway.

He could even hear the girl up there, asking how many VIPs there were.

Tag: Laine_Snowtrekker, Bardan_Jusik, Mitth_Fisto

 

IC: Atin Taab/ Lazerinian "Laz" Ibarra (NPC)
Escalator from the lobby, Far Reach Station, Florn System.

Following Agent Barnes, Major Jeth pushed past Atin, invading his personal space. The Mandalorian had been on point, but it seemed like the Major wanted to be out in front now. Atin fumed, but stopped himself from saying anything. It wouldn't be professional. At least he didn't think it would be. Would it? He pursed his lips behind his faceplate, wondering what his buir (father) would think, what he would do. Stay professional, they were on a job. If the CO wanted to be on point, let him take point. So what should I do? Take up the rear guard position, he liked Swifts, but he didn't trust her yet back there. Better to have the accomplished soldiers on the team in both the point and tail end charlie positions.

He slowed his pace and stopped, allowing the others to pass him on the moving stairway, though naturally he kept moving upwards with the escalator. He found himself just out in front of Lazerinian, the large creature was simply too big to skirt passed Atin. "I've never met one of your kind before," he spoke to the large being conversationally. Up ahead a few steps Swifts was asking how many VIPs there were to extract. Good question, I should have thought of that he berated himself as Laz answered.

"Figures you wouldn't, I'm a Lasat." The species didn't register for Atin though he said nothing as Laz continued. "Not many of us left after the Empire got through with our world."

Ah, so that explained his fear of the Empire, attempted genocide. Just another mark against the Imperials, and another reason for the loathing he harbored for the Empire. He knew his father didn't share those same feelings. He was a mercenary through and through, working for the highest bidder without care for their politics. If his employer acted unprofessionally, or didn't pay on time or otherwise offended the elder Mandalorian's personal (and Atin thought, hard to decipher) personal code, the cranky Mandalorian would end a contract unilaterally, and violently, but he didn't care about their morals.

Atin wasn't like that, he wanted to fight for justice and the Lasat's words just hardened his resolve. Once he had passed the verd'goten (Mandalorian right of passage) he would join the Rebel Alliance, and be damned whatever his father thought of that. To Laz, Atin simply looked up and replied. "The Empire let my old home die too." He thought back to the time before his father and found him, before he had been reborn as a Mandalorian. Those memories seemed like another being, another life, but they were what made Atin the warrior he was.

Shifting the view in his HUD, Atin took a moment to look behind them. He was tail end charlie now, it was his job to cover their six. He didn't expect anything except to see anything past Laz except empty escalator but it was good to start the habit of occasional looks back now. What he saw though wasn't just empty escalator.

Agent Barnes seemed to know his business and had left one of his men behind, down in the lobby, to act as a rear guard. That man was now squatting down on the lowest step of the moving staircase, mouthing something up to the rest of them though Atin couldn't make it out. "Major," Atin called out to Jeth, "we got a problem back here." From his angle, Atin couldn't see what had spooked the agent, but it was clearly...something, and the boss had to know.

TAG: Sith-I-5, Laine_Snowtrekker, Mitth_Fisto

 

IC: Owen Byrne
Vidhaftande, Boarding Ramp

"Good to hear." Chief Cervantes said from behind Owen. "Breathmasks won't protect the rest of us; we need vacsuits."

"It's better than nothing," He said to himself, another mark in the mistake column. Though to be honest she did ask him to look for breathmasks or Spacesuits, he just happened to find the masks first. Now it seemed they were looking at least one Vac-suit. An eerie green light moved closer Owen's hand inched nearer to his blaster as he looked to the source, the old man wielding some sword?, advanced glow rod? Owen couldn't place it but, something about it felt off.

"Aboard my ship, the Fluffy, we keep the emergency vacsuits in the living quarters." He said shadows dancing along the hull of the ship.

Cervantes snapped her fingers with realization drawing the soldier's attention. "Of course! Can you go check?"

The helpfulness of the old man apparently didn't reach to the point of knowing where the bunks where on this ship. Owen rolled his shoulders, that would make it too easy.

"Alright, follow me." the Chief said in the armor clad man's direction. By reflex he straightened nodding his head. "I think you should stay onboard till we can go as a group, but if you do go on ahead, we will follow you as quickly as we can."

"I'm staying with you mam' as per your orders." He replied simply, had she not intended the 'Follow Me' to apply to him, well it was too late to take it back.

"Keep your comm open. Do you have a name, or callsign that you use?" She continued,

"Yes mam' I'm called Grim when on mission." He answered with a nod of his head. "It's a small ship mam' the three of us should be able to find the suits no problem." He continued following behind her sweeping his lamp back and forth trying to give the party a little more light, a bit of penance for his egregious lapse in judgement that could have killed them all.

"Is this not easier," his father's voice rumbled in the back of his mind, "You get orders and you follow them. It's better isn't it. None of this thinking, or pretending, just listen and follow." Begrudgingly the soldier agreed for now at least, things were easier, simpler. Time would tell if they stayed that way.

TAG: Sith-I-5

 

IC: Oscar Chills
Exiting hyperspace near outskirts of Florn; Neutron Star-class Bulk Cruiser Father & Son


There was the Interceptor and Starrunner alone, trying desperately to stay in the rear shadow of the Star Destroyer. For the Starrunner, that seemed less and less likely, as the Imperials seemed intent on capturing her. The Interceptor---seeing little profit in staying in a losing fight---now took its opportunity to leave its comrades and try for open space as they started turning opposite the Star Destroyer's rear wake.

"Captain?" asked Tak as the Interceptor broke off her attack, "Which target? We can't let the Empire capture the Starrunner! She'll betray us."

"That's what I'm planning on," Oscar replied.

The bridge crew turned around to the Captain with a series of muffled comments echoing confusion or disbelief at what the good captain had just said.

"Oh shove it!" Oscar barked to the bridge, "I'd be the Captain! Carry on you heartless dirt bags! I know what I'm doing! Turn to engage the Interceptor; recall our TIEs and Blastboats! When in range, all weapons fire! Its time for our revenge!"

While the Interceptor had the range in distance ahead of the Bulk Cruiser, it lacked the angel of pursuit which Oscar favored a inside approach. Using his ship's superior firepower, Oscar didn't hold back---he even used his precious reserve of proton and concussion missiles, focusing his attack on the rear section between the aft engines and the main body of the Interceptor.

"She's preparing for hyperspace!" barked the sensors officer, "Sensors see a power increase to engines copying that of a hyperdrive launch!"

The small frigate already lacked shields due to earlier problems and her hull was taking a peppering from the Father & Son's assault.

"Captain," Tak said, "The Interceptor's hull is failing. I can see debris leaking from her decks! If they try to jump to hyperspace with that kind of damage---the hyperspace jump could tear the ship apart!"

"Aye," Oscar said, watching as a concussion missile seemed to hit the sweet spot and started to detonate ammo inside the ship, "All guns, seize fire!" Oscar turned to Tak, "I don't think they'd need be worrying about floating in hyperspace, lost forever," Oscar walked down from his captain's chair and excused the helm's officer and took over the controls. He looked up at the communication officer's bark

"By the Force!" barked the communications officer, "They're crazy!"

"No," Oscar said as the whole bridge crew watched in silence as the Interceptor attempted to jump to hyperspace---and did---only to have the engine section overpower the weakened front section of the ship and break apart, driving through the middle and bow sections of the ship; the fiery tangled mess of part ship and part engines disappeared into the blue tunnel of hyperspace, "That be desperate men, gentlemen. And the lot that traitors choose."

"There be no worse death," commented damage control, "Then to be alive---and adrift in hyperspace with no way out and no way to be rescued. A slow and lonely death."

"There be things worse in this galaxy then that," Oscar said as he started to turn the Bulk Cruiser back around and towards the distantly approaching bow section of a Star Destroyer.

"The Empire," breathed the damage control officer.

"No," Oscar said, "There are horrors in this galaxy far worse then that of the Galactic Empire. Communications, announce our peaceful intentions. If the Empire decides to board us, all stations are to stand down and be prepared to be boarded. No hostile actions."

"We're surrendering to the Empire, Captain?" Tak asked, walking up behind the man.

"No," Oscar said, "We're living to fight another day. And there will be another day. I have a plan."


TAG Sith-I-5, The Vanguard
OOG: Sith, I'll let you assume the fate of the Starrunner.

 

IC: Jedi Knight Johmer Evanson, Chief Cervantez, Cheryl the Astromech, Corellian freighter, Vidhaftande; Main Hangar of the Damaged ISD Hammer
Locations: Florn system edge


The Corellian former jedi was pleased that the woman was not phased by his lack of knowledge as to where the living quarters wqere, and was aware of her snapped fingers and instructions to follow, but then he paused in the green-lit corridor as she and the armoured mercenary headed round a curve in the hallway, the left and right sweep of the latter's lamp a lingering trace of their presence.

He could sense something. Feel something. He closed his eyes, sending out metal feelers, courtesy of the Force, then pulled them back sharpish, eyes snapping open then closed again as the lightsabre glow caught them by surprise.
"I hope I'm not endangering the mission."

He lowered the blade to the floor so that he could open his eyes again.

* * * *

Cervantez was relieved to have the Merc's imposing presence still on the ship.

"Yes mam' I'm called Grim when on mission." He answered with a nod of his head.

"Grim." She tried. "Apt name. My callsign is 'CeeCee', short for 'Chief Cervantez'." I would have told you my name in the process of paying you, but you backed away from that, didn't you. Hold on."

She paused to pluck a pair of dark glasses from the breast pocket of her jacket, finger them open, and put them on. The HUD (Heads Up Display) menu immediately presented itself on the inside of the polarised lense after sensors verified her DNA from the skin behind her ears. She blinked to bring up a light-blue wireframe blueprint of the freighter from a top-down angle. She knew she was near the ramp-

"Grim? If you are staying onboard, re-seal the ramp please. The magcon won't keep hostiles out if there any out there in the hangar."

* * * *

The pink astromech had already exposed a power cable in the wall that led down under the floor plates, and sliced through it with her little rotary saw, and had pinched the end of the sparking, sizzling cable between the three metal fingers of one of her claspers.

The wire dislodged padded coverings up the wall and along the ceiling as she backtracked towards the junction box that she had detected a metre or two behind her.

Tag: galactic-vagabond422

---

IC: SG-12 "Twelve", Captain Dan MacKellar, turbolift and Bridge of the ISD Gaurantor, respectively
Locations: Florn system edge


It would have been news to the Saber Guard that there were at least 279 docking bays aboard the Star Destroyer, so he had already selected the deck that served the TIE Hangar.

The metal-lined cylinder descended into the cruiser's depths.

Oscar Chills

Twelve half-turned to the shorter trooper, "Yes, Osc-" He stopped himself, realising all of a sudden that no-one had spoken that name aloud!
He must have picked it up from the non-com's mind!

He narrowed his gaze behind the smooth faceplate. The name had some meaning to Cade. But what?

Hoping that he had not given the game away, he faced forward again, then felt a...a telepathic contact brush at his own thoughts!

"Well, hello there." He murmured aloud, only to feel the presence withdraw in a hurry, and slam their own mental shields down. "Interesting, someone like me, close by somewhere."

The 'lift stopped and the curved door slid aside, showing a pale officer type standing to the left. In dark trousers and cap, but the tan military-style tunic of an Imperial Security Bureau official.

"Not after me, are you?" SG-12 regarded the man as he stepped into the wide hallway. "Cos I'm not in the drokking mood."

"No Sir. I am just waiting for the turbolift." The shifty-looking official glanced and nodded at Twelve's cohort like he could tell whom he was behind that polarised visor and face shield. "Sergeant Cade." Oh, apparently he could. "How is the good lady wife?"

* * * *
The Bridge

MacKellar waved at his Tactical Officer, ready to tell him to destroy anything that threatened his precious Starruner, but out of this peripheral vision, and then his normal vision, as he turned back to the windows, he could see the TIEs and Blastboats withdraw back to that bulk cruiser.

The same bulk cruiser really seemed to have it in for the Interceptor-class frigate, which had easily manoeuvred around the conical escape pod thrust into its path bay his tractor operators.

It was having a considerably harder time avoiding the scarlet and blue streaks of light as torpedoes of various payloads crossed the space between the ship identified as the Father & Son and the Interceptor's rear.

"Interceptor is trying to make a break for it, sir!"

"I'm not drokking surprised." MacKellar asserted, frowning through the window at the ugly-looking vessel now just off his ship's port (left-hand) bow. "That Neutron Star is damned vindictive for a rescue ship."

"I'm reading a power rise consistent with a hyperdrive activation."

The Captain's eyes widened at the news. "Strengthen the shields on that side!" He ordered. "Sound Collision Alarm! Brace for impact!"



The Interceptor attempted to jump to hyperspace---and did---only to have the engine section overpower the weakened front section of the ship and break apart, driving through the middle and bow sections of the ship; the fiery tangled mess of part ship and part engines disappeared into the blue tunnel of hyperspace.

Accelerated in the slipstream of the jump, breakaway parts of the Interceptor's flanks sprang in different directions, one tumbling towards the mass of waiting Imperial TIE fighters, and three digging into the Gaurantor's flanks, flaring yellow as they impacted the doubled shields, vibrations shaking the huge destroyer, pitching the captain into his window, and driving the Tactical Officer to his knees within his alcove.

"Captain!" ComScan called up from the pits. "The Father & Son is signalling its peaceful intentions!"

"Probably run out of torpedoes," the Tactical Officer sniped painfully as he climbed to his feet, one hand to his chest.

The Captain glanced sympathetically in his direction. "Medical Team to the bridge. Kill that alarm. ComScan, advise the Father & Son stand down all weapons, and to cut their engines. Any hostile action against the Starrunner, and we will destroy them. Relay that."

"Aye aye, Sir."

Tag: The Vanguard, Bravo

 

IC: OSA Halla
Hangar Level B-One, Far Reach Orbital Station


"What do you mean faster!" grumbled the old scientist's voice over Halla's comm ear piece; his annoying voice was bitter and sharp that she had to take the ear bud out for a moment and shake her ear out before putting it back in, "What part of we could create a back hole in Spacetime doesn't any of you fancy suits understands!"

"Are you done flirting with old men?" Lor Maker barked as she ducked back down behind several disturbed crates after firing off several blaster bolts---that once forced a defensive line---just as one of the last few remaining FARPs was impaled by a sword and then (the soldier was screaming in pain from being impaled), as the sword was withdrawn, slashed in half. His halved body fell crumpled mere feet from her. She held down throw up she knew was trying to come up. Glancing around, she saw only 6 such FARPs remaining on the hanger level (she couldn't she the catwalk and how many survived up there)---and all in various defensive positions around the hanger---but she knew a lost cause when she saw one. Right now, she couldn't find the words for a witty reply to what she just saw.

"I wasn't flirting---" Halla started to shoot back, but stopped when she saw Lor Maker crouching behind the creates, holding a hand over her face and a slow trickle of tears down her face; Halla glanced around and summed up the situation in the hanger and bent down to her comrade, putting a hand on her shoulder, "The Director has ordered us to speed up evacuations," Halla glanced at her watch, "Seven minutes left."

"I don't think we'll last seven minutes or get off this space station any faster," Lor said, wiping the tears from her face.

Two FARPs were thrown like rag dolls up against the crates that the two women were using as cover, the two soldiers' bodies going up and over the crates and sliding to the floor by the two women, their bodies bruised and cut in multiple areas; one of them clearly had a broken neck from the impact, the other one had his head cut off cleanly by a sword.

The word RETREAT was echoed from somewhere above the two women---most likely the catwalk where Snake was held up with several FARPs---and Halla was about to say something when the two women heard heavy footsteps coming closer.

Lor couldn't see what was going on, but she had a guess as to what was happening even before she saw Halla stand up in haste and start to discharge blaster fire in rapid fashion with a cringed look on her face. In a moment, Halla was standing there blasting away, the next there was a flash and the Cimmerian Hell Rider stood there in front of her, a sword through her midsection and coming out the back side.

Lor screamed as she watched blood trickle down a still alive and breathing Halla's face---she raised her blaster pistol to fire, but all she heard was clicks as she pulled the trigger on a empty energy mag; just then something brushed up against Lor's foot---it was a thermal detonator that had come loose form one of the soldiers' dead bodies and rolled her way! She quietly picked it up as the Hell Rider seemed to SPEAK to Halla as he leaned in closer to her paling face; Halla seemed to see what Lor had picked up, although the Hell Rider had not.

The Hell Rider's voice was dark and bold and oozed of evil, as if from hell itself; it echoed of not one voice, but as if hundreds of hushed voices were all talking at once in the background, yet this once voice spoke a bit louder then the rest of them.

"I REMEMBER YOU!" spoke the Hell Rider, "AGENT HALLA. NOW, YOU BECOME ONE OF US! THE DAMNED!"

Everything else had failed to kill these hellish monsters, Lor noted as she armed the thermal detonator and prepared to throw in the moments leading up to the Hell Rider's sword being slashed through Halla and her body falling to the floor in two different directions.

Except one.

The Hell Rider started to vanish---and in the moment before that moment as the thermal detonator threw from Lor's hand and through the air towards the Hell Rider---and as it's last remnants disappeared in those mere moments, barely several seconds, the thermal detonator vanished in with the Hell Rider.

It was as if slow motion was occurring; Lor could see the elements of the Hell Rider's body start to disappear through the black hole; but then she saw as the Hell Rider saw the thermal detonator get sucked in with it and he snapped his full attention and eyes towards her. Then it---the Hell Rider---screamed as if hundreds of voices in horrific pain and suffering screamed with it.

It would be a sound Lor would never forget, to her dying days.

The thermal detonator exploded in those slowed moments of life, the fiery ball exploding and seemingly tearing bits of the Hell Rider apart. Then, just as the black hole was about to close in those moments, it erupted outwards, throwing super heated fiery explosion and bits and pieces of Cimmerian Hell Rider with it out into the hanger.

Lor had her face covered to the ground when it all happened; when she lifted her head, super heated pieces of Hell Rider littered the hanger floor and had left a sizeable blackened dent in the blast doors leading deeper into the space station.

Lor breathed a sigh of relief as she keyed her comm to the rest of the OSA and Mercs listening to her comm traffic, "This is Merc Lor Maker. Cimmerian Hell Rider eliminated at the Computerized Stabilization Gate Way Station. Hanger secured. Requesting backup. I'm the only one left alive. Maker clear."

Lor lay on the hanger's floor, her hands over her face, as she started to cry quietly.

Above her, on the catwalk, she could hear Snake and the remaining FARPs from earlier scramble back to the catwalk from a maintenance access corridor. She didn't care to look, but she could hear Snake's voice shout down from above, "Lor! We're coming!"


TAG Sith-I-5

 

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


Soal looked at his watch.

Two minutes.

He sighed. So the Mercs wanted to die----so be it.

"Admiral," Soal said, "Prioritize your targets accordingly. We must prevent the Mercs from escaping."

The one eyed Admiral nodded, "Yes, General Preeminent," he turned to the Captain, "Continue on mission as planned. Half speed ahead, battle stations. Cut through the pirate fleet, then draw those enemy Star Destroyers towards us and the station."

"As ordered, Admiral," the Captain said, adding, "Long range sensors did detect a disabled Imperial Star Destroyer and a active Star Destroyer on the out-skirts of the system. A small battle is appearing to take place between severl vessels intelligence believes are pirates related to this fleet we are about to encounter."

"Establish communications with them," Tod ordered, "I want to know their intentions."

"As ordered, Admiral."

As the military officers went about their duties, Soal glanced over at Ysanne Isard, "Why do I get the feeling that Star Destroyer on the outskirts has something to do with you?"

"Because General Preeminent Soal," Isard replied in kind, "You'll soon find out that everything has to do with me."

Soal smiled. Or so she thought.

Up ahead, the pirate fleet started to reform into a loose attack group as they came at the Darkest Night; the mighty Dreadnought's weaponry started unleashing holy hell into the pirate fleet as Imperial TIEs cut away at the edges of their formations. The pure firepower of the Dreadnought was on fully display---it would be unlikely that the enemy Star Destroyers could reach their assistance in time---or even if they cared to.


TAG Sith-I-5

 

IC: Pilot Officers Havoc Neb and Mary Formal, Long-range Sensor Operator Cath'in'Boots (Cathar nrc), Director Raton, TL-1800 shuttle; FRO Station Control, respectively.
Locations: Florn


Havoc and Mary were silent in the cockpit of the Merc' shuttle when Lor's transmission came through:

"This is Merc Lor Maker. Cimmerian Hell Rider eliminated at the Computerized Stabilization Gate Way Station. Hanger secured. Requesting backup. I'm the only one left alive. Maker clear."

The Sullustan answered. "Copy that, Lor Maker. Slick here. We will make sure Station Control sends someone."

Formal looked across to him. "Shouldn't we notify the DD to send over the extraction team? She said she's the only survivor."

"She didn't request extraction; she called for backup."

"Semantics!"

"No!" Neb's right hand chopped the air between them in emphasis. "Two completely different meanings. Look, go outside; if you can round up any of those troops to come with us, we will go check on her ourselves."

Formal unstrapped her seat restraints and eased herself up out of her chair's grip on her hips. "Try to comm Edge for me, please."

* * * *
FROS Control Room (Level A1)

"Director! Imperial dreadnaught has engaged that pirate fleet that jumped in." The Cathar reported.

Peligro nodded gravely, talking into the encrypted channel he now shared with the command elements of his allies. "You hear that, Commander Yavscout?"

"We still had three minutes left!" The Merc's voice exclaimed. "Proof that the Empire cannot be trusted."

Despite the direness of the situation, the Organisation' man's lips twitch into a smirk. "Yeah, that's the proof. Hold on, Commander, getting another communication."

"Station Control from the Mercs. Slick here. One of our team members, Lor Maker, has reported an encounter with a Cimmerian Death Rider at some computerised way station. She is the sole survivor, and is requesting backup."

"We heard it. A team has been despatched."

"If we can use some of the troops waiting at the VIP transport, we might be able to get there quicker."

"As long as the Agent-in-Charge thinks it is quiet there, you have my permission."

"Thank you, Control. Slick out."

Tag: Bravo

 

IC: Scout Sgt. Orlisan Cade, OS-702, bridge of the ISD Gaurantor
Locations: Florn system edge

The ride down the lift was loud with silence. Cade liked the quiet, but not while standing next to the loose canon that SG-12 was.
The Saber Guard abruptly spoke out, "Yes, Osc-" then quickly went silent again..
Cade kept quiet, looking in the direction of the Saber Guard - unsure of what was stirring within the chrome-clad warrior.

The 'lift stopped and the curved door slid aside, showing a pale office type standing to the left. In dark trousers and cap, but the tan military-style tunic of an Imperial Security Bureau official.

"Not after me, are you?" SG-12 regarded the man as he stepped into the wide hallway. "Cos I'm not in the drokking mood."

"No Sir. I am just waiting for the turbolift."
Orlisan looked at the man, recognizing him to be one of the SecBur reps.

"Sergeant Cade."
Cade froze, his gaze fixed upon the slightly smirking security official.
"How is the good lady wife?"
The Scout Trooper had a strong urge to drop the man where he stood, but the Cade kept his bearing.

"She's well sir, I will see her once I'm planetside again." he replied with a short tone.

TAG: Sith-I-5

 

IC: Commodore Timothy Stakes
VIP Rooms, Allegiance, King II-class Battleship


Stakes sat down across from Mr. Taab. Stakes checked his watch---they didn't have much time before they exited hyperspace. Stakes sure hoped his guess was right about all of this cloak and dagger. If he was right----if he read the tell-tale signs right---then he would have a Jod Fleet available to him when he exited hyperspace to fight the Imperial trap. If he was wrong, then Stakes hoped he had a trick or two left up his sleeve.

"You're time here with us here is short, Mr. Taab. We'll be exiting hyperspace and soon, you'll be a free man from our services. I have no illusions about you staying in service of the Jod---or of anyone or anything remotely related to the Mercs, except maybe for their shuttle for a short time to get off of our ship. And I have no intention of trying to sway your thoughts. However, I do have a thought I want to pass onto you.

"I have no ill feelings to you and no reason to doubt your convictions as to your profession you choose---as such," Stakes dug into a sleeve pocket on his uniform and withdrew a card and slid it along the table to the mercenary, "You may consider me and my ship a safe haven to you. Lets just avoid a paper trail if you do need our services. We do have intelligence gathering resources on this vessel that could prove useful, if used without our direct involvement. All I ask in return is, if you would find something of value that you think could aid the Jod, that you let us know. Especially considering the nature of this recent galactic chaos that has seemed to have gripped us all.

"Is there anything, Mr. Taab, that you would like to say or bring to light before we part ways?"

Stakes' watch beeped. Two minutes before reversion.


TAG Bardan_Jusik

 

IC: Swifts/Evalynne Smith
At the top of the escalator

Something was wrong. Evalynne didn't know why or how she knew that, or even what was wrong, but something was wrong.

It definitely wasn't that no one had answered her question of how many VIPs they had to evacuate, though that didn't help. A large number would complicate things, yes, but not too much, she guessed. No, something was wrong. And behind, not ahead, of them, too.

Once, before a race, an opponent had sabotaged her swoop. Then, like now, Evalynne had felt sickeningly off, a feeling akin to the physical pain of a sprained ankle or a dislocated toe. A creeping, crawling sensation in her stomach, as if she'd swallowed insects and was now nauseous. She took a deep breath and readjusted her grip on her weapon. Something was wrong.

What had changed since they'd started up the escalator?

"Major," Scorch, almost to the top, called out to Spook, "we got a problem back here."

Swifts turned to look. One of Barnes' men was crouched on the escalator, near the bottom. That had to be uncomfortable. But if he was hiding from something--what was he hiding from? He looked as if he was staring toward where the reception desk was, but she couldn't see what he was seeing.

What's going on?

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

 

Havah Jeth
Top of the escalator

The new meat was asking about the number of VIPs, something which just further showed that there was far too much vague information on this mission. First vague reasons, vague enemies, Imperials, and now. . .now was something. . . else.

His helmet was picking up something, a change in noise, in pitch of the background noise levels. What and where he couldn't pin down. That was until. . .


"Major," Atin called out to Jeth, "we got a problem back here." From his angle, Atin couldn't see what had spooked the agent, but it was clearly...something.

Jeth stopped from walking away from the top of the escalator to come back and look down. He did not have a good angle, he could see the agent at the bottom of the escalator, and then open lobby that was far too huge, and then the lower level ceiling / floor blocked his view to. . .what he did not know. He instead raised a flat palm and waved along the railing at the top of the escalator. They were going to run back just because someone was hiding from probably just another straggler in a station that likely had many.

TAG: @Sith-I-5, @Laine_Snowtrekker, Bardan_Jusik

 

IC: Owen Byrne
Vidhaftande, Boarding Ram

"Grim." The woman said repeating the codename given. "Apt name." He nodded his head again. It was a name given him long, almost a lifetime ago. Though it seemed the shadow of that time was returning. "My callsign is 'CeeCee', short for 'Chief Cervantez'. I would have told you my name in the process of paying you, but you backed away from that, didn't you." The solder resisted his urge to look down, making the lamp on the side of his helmet useless. He was done being that man, that stupid, shortsighted, selfish, being that was a waste of resources, "Hold on." 'CeeCee' pulled out a pair of glasses that seemed to glow with an eerie blue hue. "Grim?"

"Yes mam'" he responded out of instinct, "I mean 'CeeCee'"

"If you are staying onboard, re-seal the ramp please. The magcon won't keep hostiles out if there any out there in the hangar."

"Right away, CeeCee," he replied, Force this easy though a question did linger in his mind. "Are you sure you'll no longer need my lamp?" After taking a moment to think about it, she gave him the order to walk away. She knew what she was doing, she wouldn't have given that order anyway. Besides, keeping the ship safe was probably more important than seeing were one was going at this point. "Never mind mam' I'll be right back." He executed a crisp about face and returned to the boarding ramp, noticing the old man his glow rod pointed at the deck. Further in the droid was still working, fixing his mistake, more failures of the idiot.

"Have you finally accepted what you are Soldier?" His father's voice bellowed from the back of his mind.

"Yes sir," Owen said quietly as he started to raise the ramp.

TAG: Sith-I-5

 

IC: Engineer Bromley , Refectory of the Delicate Delinquent
Location: Florn system, several klicks south of Far Reach Orbital Station’s transparent shield


Bromley waited patiently as the cook and her assistants took precious food and ran it through a blender with water to “power” this device proposed by the Manteroni fellow.

A team was in one of the gravity well spheres, constructing a cat’s cradle of hollow piping around one of the SFS G7-x’s, that he would be supervising the pouring of the food blend into.

None of this jibed with his own engineering knowledge, but the figures on the data that the old Admiral had transmitted to his datapad showed that this was some ‘Next Level’ stuff, and besides, this was Bridge Officer Bob and Commander Yavscout’s orders.

He looked on as the blended fluid was poured into commandeered tea urns, which in turn sat upon a tea trolley with a wonky wheel.
There was always a wonky wheel, wasn’t there?

Tag: no-one

---

IC: Pilot Officer Masha Tinovorsh, Crewpersons Alisette and , Far Reach Orbital Station
Location: Florn system, orbit of Florn[/i].


Tinovorsh had set up home inside one of the open turbolifts, so that the metal sides protected her on three sides, and the Noghri with her light repeating blaster was outside, keeping a watchful eye.

Her own weapon holstered, Allisette was crowded into the lift with the kneeling Merc, who had a panel open with lots of coloured wires drooping out so that she could do her slicing.

Allisette glanced down as Masha put a hand over her right ear, listening to whatever was coming over the comlink. “Did you hear that?” She queried, holding onto the wall while she tried to rise on her stiff knees.

“Hear what?” Allisette enquired, the fingers of one hand probing her pockets to find something to tie her blonde tresses back with, while the other was close to her blaster.

“Lor Maker’s team has run into trouble and she is requesting backup. Says she’s the only one left alive.”

“Where is she?”

“Computerized Stabilization Gate Way Station.”

Allisette grimaced. She had found and elasticated band and had both hands up to her head, corralling her hair into a ponytail. “Where in Hapes is that?”

“No idea, but that button there-” Masha tapped a fingernail on the panel of round destination buttons. “-should take us there. Wanna get your mate in here?”

“Ke’anor, get in here. We are going for a ride.”

The Noghri’s thick tail inadvertently whacked against Allisette’s boots as she put up her LRB, and backed into the lift.

Masha tapped the button, and wondered if she was doing the right thing as the doors started to close. She tapped the earbud comlink that she had gotten from OSA Halla – guess she wouldn’t be needing it back. “Lor Maker from Edge. I am on the way up to you now. We’ll keep you company till your backup arrives. Do you read?”.

Tag: Bravo, Heavy Isotope (for reference)

---

IC: Pirate Centdink (nrc), SG-12 “Twelve”, ISB Official, Starrunner, ISD Gaurantor, respectively
Location: Florn system, orbit of Florn[/i].


Centdink wrinkled his blue nose as he arrived at the rectangular glased pane set into the bulkhead with an X scored into it, and a handwritten sign to break in an emergency.

Well, this was an emergency, and he took no hesitation in flipping his blaster pistol around, and shielding his eyes, smashing the handgrip through the pane, using the gun to clear the sharp shards out of the way before he reached in and grasped the handle that could be attached to a square hole beside every door on this ship, and turned to open or seal doors in the event of a loss of a catastrophic loss of power, or, for those with a low attention span, a loss of power.

They had been hit by the Star Destroyer’s ion cannon and all systems were out. It was too soon to know if they had been permanently fried, or could be re-booted.

The well-armed Skarti pirate marched purposefully down the centre of the well-lit corridor, heading for the torpedo room, when his pace faltered and his gaze turned curiously to the lit glowrods in the ceiling.
“Hang on,” he wondered aloud, a clawed index finger aimed up at one, “how come you are working?”

As if in answer, every light along the corridor began to flicker alarmingly.

“Oh, come on!”

The vestibule plunged into darkness.

“Ah, frag.”


* * * *
Star Destroyer Guarantor


Eager to get this mission over with so that he could go after the Mercs – many good Imperial lives had been lost at their hands, and at those of their allies – the Saber Guard dallied as the scout trooper engaged the ISB official.

"She's well sir, I will see her once I'm planetside again." Cade answered in response to the ISB man asking after his wife.

Being a cloned warrior, raised on Kamino, SG-12 did not have a fantastic grasp of humanoid male-to-female interactions, and the terminology thereof, but he had heard the Scout Trooper’s recent thoughts on the matter, that young Fiona was due a good polishing.

He smiled behind the faceplate, and looked down toward the soldiers. “I am heading to the TIE Hangar. Join me when you are free.”

He whirled and headed down the corridor, keeping pace with a mouse droid that for the moment, that weaved among the footfall of the increased traffic as they neared the TIE Hangar at the front of the ship.

White armoured troops jogged two-by-two along one side of the corridor, while lesser crew stepped politely out of their way. Some troops were already in the hangar when Twelve stepped through the slowly opening heavy blast doors, spying a twin-hulled craft with angled solar fins, that looked like a TIE Bomber, but whose secondary cylinder acted as a troop transport.

Sturdy curved legs would hit the deck first as invisible tractors lowered the TIE into position.

To the right, the entire wall was the invisible magcon energy field that kept the atmosphere in, and beyond it, he could see the larger Main Hangar, chock full of shuttles and transports, including Cade’s own.

Between the two docking areas, the captured pirate ship’s upper areas made a fairly majestic sight as they rose into view.

“The lights have just gone out!” Reported a stormtrooper with a bulky black backpack, standing just inside the magcon boundary with his hands on his belt. “Took a while to go.”

****

The ISB man with Cade nodded at the response.

“A shame that she is taking you away from service to the Empire, but I expect she has a host of jobs for you to do around the house.”

Tag: The Vanguard

 

IC: FARP Agent Barnes, FARP Agent Basset, Cimmerian Death Rider, Beasts, Lobby Area, off Hangar Three-A, Far Reach Orbital Station; interior Death Sphere, respectively.
Location: Florn orbit


Barnes proceeded at a crisp pace along the tan-carpeted, smiling as he caught sight of the black Sand Panther prowling the area ahead of him.

He dropped into a squat and tickled the thing behind its ears when it bounded up to meet him. "What, you didn't think we would have a Corellian Sand Panther here?" He smirked to the Mercs behind him. "He actually belongs to OSA Chief Cervantes, but she is off helping to evacuate refugees to your interdictor, and Command didn't want to risk Jakku here around younglings. You miss your Mistress, don't you boy?" He asked the domesticated guard cat, whose shoulders came up to his knees.

A square of tan fabric secured over its back, held several spare blaster packs or water bottles in pouches that hung down between the fore and rear legs.

"Strange." Barnes observed, furrowing his eyebrows under the lip of his helmet. "He normally growls around strangers, which was perhaps another reason..." He looked around, expecting to see the knees of at least the Arkanian, but in fact, him and Jakku were alone in the hallway. "Frag!"

Where could he have lost them?

* * * *
Escalator

Bassett recognised that he was halfway up the escalator now, with most of the others disembarked.
He just needed them to be VERY QUIET, and perhaps the Death Rider would drokk off and open its portal somewhere else on the station.

Above, he could see the black-and-red Mandalorian looking back down at him. "Major, we got a problem back here."

Yeah, well; now we do! The Corellian thought acidly.

* * * *
Death Sphere interior

The inhabitant of the night black armour and cowl, looked out at the richly-fitted lobby area, whilst behind him, the deafening chaos of a Death Sphere suffering atmospheric decompression and structural overload, well, happened.

Another sound intruded on his concentration: the concerned keens of one of the canine-headed Beasts, looking back as bits of wall were sucked out of sight by escaping winds, and a fleshy pylon tore out of the wall to crash across the hallway behind this small group of twenty Beasts.

The Rider hissed a harsh instruction, a Beast soldier turned to level his disrupter rifle against the miscreant's cheek, and pressed the trigger. They were only as weak as their weakest link.

"Major, we got a problem back here."

The Rider snapped his attention towards the gold-sided diagonal thing across the hall, not able to recognise an escalator on sight, but definitely hearing a voice.

"Sssssssss, Sssssssss, Sssssssss (Go, Go, Go)." He hissed in triumph, waving the semi-armoured Beasts past him, following them as they swarmed into the lobby, aiming their weapons in all directions to secure the area, then he stepped through himself, operating his wrist device to dissipate the portal as he stepped through to stand next to the abandoned reception desk, a shiny metal bell the first thing to catch his attention.

Rank came with priviliges, and something that would get a Beast soldier executed, a Cimmerian Death Rider could risk doing.

Hoping that this never got back to the Neoteric High Command, he creaked open his mouth, exercised his lower jaw for the rare act, slapped a taloned black hand down on the bell, and called:

"SHOP!"

Tag: Bardan_Jusik, Laine_Snowtrekker, Mitth_Fisto

 

IC: Beskaryc Taab
VIP level, Allegiance, King II-class Battleship, hyperspace

Taab watched as Commodore Stakes sat down across from him and checked a chrono. Did he have somewhere more important to be right now? Some duty to attend? if so, then what was he doing down here having a drink? Taab's eye's narrowed in suspicion..

"You're time here with us here is short, Mr. Taab." Taab's hand reached down under the table to his holstered Westar 34. That had sounded rather like a threat. Or maybe Taab was being paranoid but his weakened condition left him vulnerable though and he wasn't going to be caught napping. "We'll be exiting hyperspace and soon, you'll be a free man from our services." His hand still resting on the blaster's grip Taab cocked his head to one side, eyeing Stakes. "I have no illusions about you staying in service of the Jod---or of anyone or anything remotely related to the Mercs, except maybe for their shuttle for a short time to get off of our ship. And I have no intention of trying to sway your thoughts. However, I do have a thought I want to pass onto you."

Taab nodded one, a gesture which bade him to continue on. This was sounding more to Taab like a job opportunity than a segue to an execution, or an attempted one anyway. Taab had enough on his plate right now, but he listened further.

"I have no ill feelings to you and no reason to doubt your convictions as to your profession you choose---as such," Stakes reached into a sleeve pocket on his uniform as Taab pulled slightly on his blaster's grip under the table. But the Commodore had palmed only a business card and slid it along the table to the Taab. How quaint. "You may consider me and my ship a safe haven to you. Lets just avoid a paper trail if you do need our services. We do have intelligence gathering resources on this vessel that could prove useful, if used without our direct involvement. All I ask in return is, if you would find something of value that you think could aid the Jod, that you let us know. Especially considering the nature of this recent galactic chaos that has seemed to have gripped us all."

Taab looked stakes one last time in the eye, settling the blaster back in it's position before unclipping his buy'ce (helmet) from his belt and sliding it over his head. He grimaced as it slid over his broken nose, still it gave him a much better view of the world around him. He looked down at the card, scanning it and the contact information written on it saving that to his bucket's onboard memory before sliding the card back to Stakes. "No paper trail," he repeated the Commodore's words back to him.

"Is there anything, Mr. Taab, that you would like to say or bring to light before we part ways?"

Taab now looked at the man through his T-visor as the man's chrono beeped. He did have somewhere else to be, and it seemed as if this then would be their goodbye. Shaking his head slowly he replied. "No," he indicated the card that still sat on the table, "but I'll be in touch."

TAG: Bravo, Intervention

---

IC: Atin Taab/ Lazerinian "Laz" Ibarra (NPC)
Escalator from the lobby, Far Reach Station, Florn System.

Atin glanced back to the Major, waiting for a response. Crouching low near the top of the escalator now, Atin looked forward and could see the Jod man they had left behind was now halfway up the moving stairwell. Behind Atin Major Jeth motioned them back, eliciting an audible groan and eye roll from Laz. Atin stood higher, and started moving back down the escalator, Laz followed close behind, his Bo-Rifle unslung now. Neither could see yet what was the cause for their reversal, though the Jod lower still than them hiding gave them reason enough to ready their weapons.

A tinny bell rang out, once, twice, three times and someone, someone unknown, cried out in a loud voice, "SHOP!" just as Atin was far enough down the escalator to catch a view of...something. He didn't know what it was, but it was big, and hairy...and armed. It certainly wasn't a friendly. "Contact rear," Atin screamed to the the Mercs, before dropping to a knee and sighting his Verp shatter rifle on the target, and pressing the trigger.

TAG: Sith-I-5, Laine_Snowtrekker, Mitth_Fisto

 

IC: Scout Sgt. Orlisan Cade, OS-702, bridge of the ISD Gaurantor
Locations: Florn system edge
Eager to get this mission over with so that he could go after the Mercs – many good Imperial lives had been lost at their hands, and at those of their allies– the Saber Guard dallied as the scout trooper engaged the ISB official."She's well sir, I will see her once I'm planetside again."Cade answered in response to the ISB man asking after his wife.

Being a cloned warrior, raised on Kamino, SG-12 did not have a fantastic grasp of humanoid male-to-female interactions, and the terminology thereof, but he had heard the Scout Trooper’s recent thoughts on the matter, that young Fiona was due a good polishing.

Cade’s new assignment was on zero hour which meant his routine trance would start to kick in. The solace of mind it brought was good for avoiding the jitters. A lot of troopers had their own version of mission prep. One fellow scout he used to know would spend 2 hours disassembling and reassembling his weapon before a mission, every time. Another he served with would secretly spar in unauthorized hand-to-hand matches with junior ranked Stormtroopers. He eventually got caught but since that type of behavior was held in esteem, his only punishment was getting busted down a rank.

“I am heading to the TIE Hangar. Join me when you are free.” spouted the Saber Guard.

“Yes sir!” Cade responded as the Saber Guard whirled and whisked away towards the hangar. The ISB man with Cade nodded at the response.“A shame that she is taking you away from service to the Empire, but I expect she has a host of jobs for you to do around the house.” replied the ISB official.

The trance was interrupted as Cade’s mind began to drift homeward. He had been away from ‘real life’ for what felt like a lifetime. The numbness he was supposed to be feeling turned into a knot in his stomach. His wife was the one person he gave absolute trust. She was his bride, his companion. It’s what his superiors had always begrudged him about. 'If you could only be less…distracted, you would be Chief by now!' his old C.O. would say.
Although Cade had spent a majority of the last few years apart from her, their trust/bond remained steadfast. All the while his love for and loyalty to the Empire waned. To him, it was the perfect picture of being stuck in between a rock and a hard place.
Cade realized moments had gone by and he hadn’t said anything. He quickly shot back,“From the Empire to the ol’ ball in chain. Either way, this trooper remains in service.”

Without letting the ISB official get another word in, Cade marched on towards the hangar, his mind slipping back into ready mode.
"Excuse me sir, I must be going."

TAG: Sith-I-5

 

IC: Cheryl the Astromech, Chief Cervantes, Vidhaftande Corellian freighter. Star Destroyer Main hangar
Location: Florn system edge


All the lights within the ship that had been on before, flicked back on into full illuminosity as the pink-and-chrome panelled astromech backed away to admire its handiwork, while to it's morbid satisfaction, there were cries of surprised pain from both directions as people's eyes, wide to adjust for the lack of light, had to shut them quickly.

* * * *

Chief Cervantes, by blinking to adjust the settings on her Heads Up Display (HUD), had changed the light spots that indicated people's positions on the map, to sort of pointed pear shapes so that she could tell what directions they were facing, or walking.

She could see which one was the Merc, because it was nearing the ramp, and she made a cautious step forwards to try to sort out which one was hers.

"Argh!" She squealed as the lights went on, shutting her eyes and bringing up her hands to help, instinctively bending over at the waist too, presumably to put the back of her head between the ceiling glowrods and her eyes. "Good work, Cheryl!" She called a moment or two later.

Tag: galactic-vagabond422

---

IC: Pilot Officer Mary Formal, Cimmerian Death Rider, outside TL-1800 shuttle, X-Wing cockpit, lobby area for Hangar Three-A, Far Reach Orbital Station
Location: Florn system, orbit of Florn.


Wisely keeping her weapons stowed around these alert black armoured troops, Mary had emerged from the airlock, and asked the nearest one if she could take a portion of their number to reinforce the situation at the other hangar.

He had his hand to his ear comlink - not that she could see one under his hood and helmet, maybe he had earache - trying to raise his superior: "Agent Barnes from Agent Bel Iblis, over. Do you copy?"

The FARP trooper behind and to his left, her right, with his E-11 held with both hands across his heavily padded torso, had just offered to "charge up [her] loading ramp."

"Pardon?" She queried after a moment, frowning at the man, never having heard the phrase before.

CRUMP!!

Everyone swayed once, including Mary herself. Everyone swivelled heads to look towards the three hundred metre distant double doors through which Barnes and Red Team had gone earlier.

"Bugslut!" Exclaimed a FARP.

"What the frag was that?!" Exclaimed one of the techs, standing beside a refuelling rig.

Except for vampires, it took a lot to panic the Arcan. "If someone lit a fart," she muttered to herself, "that is a stargate whose chevrons won't be locking again."

Agent Bel Iblis recovered first. "TAKE COVER!" He dove onto his stomach, blaster rifle aimed towards the sealed doors.

* * * *

The Cimmerian Death Rider's attention was immediately taken by the wall to his right, less than a hundred metres away, that looked like it been punched by a two-metre high fist.
The concave, convex, whatever depression, was painted with Beast innards, plate-sized bits of pulverised meat or wall flaking to the floor.

"TAKE COVER!" He ordered, trying to hop the reception desk, but the toes of his ironforge boots scraped uselessly at the surface, so he was forced to run around it into the meagre protection, additionally instructing five Beasts in there with him.

Several scattered and returned fire. There had been no sound to indicate the shooter, so disrupter blasts were flying in every direction. Every direction.

Tag: Bardan_Jusik, Laine_Snowtrekker, Mitth_Fisto

 

IC: Havah Jeth
Lobby area for Hangar Three-A, Far Reach Orbital Station
Location: Florn system, orbit of Florn.


Obeying orders or following them seemed to be a point of some contention, that or else he was worse than he thought and had signaled wrong. Because he distinctly knew he was telling the Mando kid to move up the fragging escalator and establish a fire line overlooking the railing. Instead the kid went down, called out loud that they had a situation, and shot a possible enemy. Only saving grace was that the weapon was fairly quite the kid had used, and the enemy didn't know where the shot came from.

This he gleaned from the crazy return fire that amounted to spray and pray on anything not from the enemy positions backs. He did have a problem though, and that was the Empire was still a couple minutes out if they launched shuttles into the combat and happened to randomly choose the right spot to intercept them. So who was the kid shooting at? Tapping the side of his helmet he transmitted on the Merc frequency, "Scorch. Visual and sitrep." he needed to know what and how many they were facing.

For the moment he gave the shaking fist in the air, signalling all to hold tight. Since the enemy didn't know where they were to shoot them. And most of them were out of sight unless the two at the bottom of the escalator were spotted, meaning they had time to share intel. Huh. In a way a bit of good fortune, and for now he would take it.

TAG: Laine_Snowtrekker, Bardan_Jusik, Sith-I-5

 

IC: Swifts
Floor above the lobby near Hangar Three-A, Far Reach Station

Swifts watched as the major raised a flat palm and waved along the railing at the top of the escalator. Made perfect sense to her, he wanted them to spread out along the railing and try to get an eye on whatever had entered the lobby. Surely the railing was better than having nothing between themselves and whatever was in the lobby. She shifted to the side, holding one of the weapons at the ready.

Her heart pounded (was it fear or excitement?), but she took a deep breath as she looked around, in case there were other ways up to where they were standing. No Barnes. He'd disappeared, probably had been prattling about something instead of looking to see if he were being followed. He wouldn't do well as an actual tour guide or as an elementary school teacher, she decided. I hope he realizes where we are.

Then came the sound of a bell. Swifts had noticed a bell on the reception desk--had someone rung the bell? Why?

"SHOP!"

It certainly wasn't a friendly voice, though it seemed to be going for the ironic. Rusty with disuse, it creaked, made Swifts think of unpleasant things. The shivery feeling of evil only intensified in her gut. Stop it, that's not gonna help. Don't dwell on all that, let it go. Like Jasan's uncle said, release the negative and focus on the good.

"Contact rear," Scorch screamed before dropping to a knee and sighting his Verp shatter rifle on the target, and pressing the trigger. Something splattered, Swifts could tell by the sound. It sounded big. If only she could see whatever Scorch was shooting at.

"TAKE COVER!" the evil voice ordered, followed by a sort of scraping and the sound of things moving. Blaster bolts shot past, over their heads. Looked like whatever was shooting, didn't know where to shoot. That was a good thing, right? Right.

She looked back at the Major, who shook his fist in the air. Swifts guessed it meant staying still. Well, she'd have no problem complying with that.

Ten floors to go, no idea of how many VIPs there were, and now some kind of evil beings (unknowingly?) blocking their exit.

How am I gonna get paid for this? It better be a good amount.

TAG: Sith-I-5, Mitth_Fisto, Bardan_Jusik

 

IC: Atin Taab/ Lazerinian "Laz" Ibarra (NPC)
Escalator from the lobby, Far Reach Station, Florn System.

Atin wanted to let loose with a war whoop at the sight of his shot annihilating his target inside out and then leaving an impact crater in the opposite wall. That wouldn't have been professional as his buir (father) would no doubt remind him if he were here, nor was the shot a particularly good one. Better to have the projectile stopped in the creature, dumping all of it's energy there rather than turning it inside out and then continuing on downrange where it could hit who knew what. Luckily it was just the wall, and there had been no friendlies there. His rifle had been configured for long range fire though, and it had packed just a little too much power for the short ranged confines he was shooting in. He should have used the time available earlier to him to re-tune the weapon for CQB (Close Quarters Combat). Shab. Still, it seemed to have the desired effect, the creature was no more. Besides, it was still rather fun to see that level of carnage, so he contented himself with a self satisfied smile.

"Scorch. Visual and sitrep." The order from Major Jeth came in loud and clear over Atin's comm system. Atin quickly lowered the range finder on the right side of his buy'ce (helmet) and took a quick scan of the area. It had to be quick, within a few moments he couldn't see most of what was going on down there, the rising escalator blocked his view, but he managed to get a snapshot of the situation in the lobby. "Unknown number of enemy...things, down there," he reported back as enemy weapon's fire lit up the lobby below. It was panic fire, "aimed" in all directions. They had no targets, the silence of Atin's shatter gun and the lack of a visible bolt fired from it (as a blaster would have) had left for a surprised and disoriented enemy. Atin knew that wouldn't last. He forwarded the holo image he had quickly scanned to the Major, he should be able to see it on his own bucket's HUD now and see for himself what they were up against.

Staying still (but moving up the escalator) Atin risked a look back up the moving staircase, wondering why he was the only one to fire. Laz had been right there with him. He had to laugh at the sight that greeted him, Laz and the Agent that Atin had pushed past just moments earlier, tangled up on the escalator, trying to stay low and disentangle themselves from each other. "Karabast Basset", the Lasat was saying while trying to stay quiet. Atin took that to be the Agent's name. "Get off of me, there's a fight to be had!"

Farther back than that it looked like Swifts and the Major were holding position on the floor above. "If this is the only way up I think we can hold them down there," Atin reported to Jeth now. If those things had to get through here to get to the next level, they would be caught in this fatal funnel created by the escalator. It would be a simple matter for the Mercs to concentrate all their fire onto one area, effectively denying the enemy the chance to advance up the escalator. Of course getting out now would be problematic, but Atin hadn't thought that far ahead yet. Nor had he thought about holding off the enemy while still accomplishing their goal of getting the VIPs to their shuttle. Like Laz had said, there was a fight to be had and everything else simply slipped from the Mandalorian youth's mind.

TAG: Sith-I-5, Laine_Snowtrekker, Mitth_Fisto

 

IC: Commander Yavscout, Captain Dan McKellar, SG-12 "Twelve", Auxilary Command within Delicate Delinquent, Bridge of the Star Destroyer Gaurantor, TIE Hangar of same.
Florn


The elf, Yavscout, listened to the report from the six-inch-high holo-grammatic Jod figure on the desk before him, the captain of one of the Kingdom of Jod vessels out there, taking time out of his busy schedule.

"That rag-tag flotilla with the dodgy grasp of Basic-" The Jod commander was saying.

"The Pirates." Yav arguably jumped to conclusions.

"We don't know that for certain."

"So what about them?"

"They have turned to engage that big drokk-off Imperial ship."

"Reckon we should offer assistance to the Empire?"

The two laughed heartily about that while Dak looked on.

---

Bridge of the Gaurantor

Captain Dan McKellar was getting the exact same report from the junior who had come up to recplace the injured Tactical Officer: "Captain," the enthusiastic Ensign called from his alcove, "that pirate fleet has turned to engage the Assertor-class Star Dreadnaught, the Darkest Night!"

"That does not seem wise." McKellar opined, consciously opting not to upbraid the youth for the 'crime' of shouting across an SD bridge, as some commanders he had known, were wont to do. "Oh well, they had to learn some time that there is a difference between ships that are small, and those that look small, but are simply far away."

This drew a titter from the pit crews on either side of the command walkway.

Dan sensed movement among the dark shades within the pit near to the Communications Station, and glanced down as a pit lieutenant stepped smartly into view and craned his neck to look up at him. "Sir, signal from the Darkest Night. They demand to know our intentions."

"What?" The query actually put Dan back a pace, his white-and-gold armour scraping at the bulkhead between the triangular windows. "We are parked next to an SD broadcasting a distress signal; what do they think our intentions are? Take it to dinner?!" He turned and stomped to the circular, glase-walled chamber near his Ready Room. "Frag it, patch it into my holochamber."

"Yes sir!" The lieutenant scampered back to Comms.

In a couple moments, as a faint fan of holo-recording light washed over the commander, he asserted himself into the voice-pickup. "This is the Star Destroyer Gaurantor out of Thanium Sector, responding to a distress call of the Star Destroyer Hammer in drokking Pakuuni Sector, because Fleet does not seem to care what happens to ships and their crews that get into troubloe these days. Now, you would know that she was calling for help, if your Major Gal Lace wasn't hogging all the frequencies!" His voice raised as he lost his temper, despite the possibility that such a large battleship could have senior personages aboard. "Speaking of which, Major Lace, knock off the 'all frequencies' brix; you are not helping anyone!"

Tag: Bravo

---

TIE Hangar of the Gaurantor

SG-12 watched as the TIE Transporter was settled onto the deck before him and the gathered stormtroopers.

Two large rectangular panels on the sides that were either solar fins or heat radiators sandwiched a triangular collection of three several metres long grey-white cylinders that were arranged with one at the bottom, a metre off the deck, for the crew and any ordnance; and two cylinders above, with airlock hatches at either end, and could be boarded and exited either by affixing the door directly to an airlock on the craft to be boarded and either opening both airlocks, or burning through; or by ramps with flexible 'Vader' railings that sprang up from the edges of the deployed ramps.

It was said that on being shown the boarding ramps sans safety railings at the Seinar Fleet Systems demonstration day, and the salesperson claiming that stormtroopers, by virtue of their superior balance and reflexes, could just run up the ramp without falling off the sides, Lord Vader had retorted, "You must be joking."

At least that was the story according to stormtrooper boarding team leader DVE-0012 or "Dee-Vee", and SG-12 had no reason to dis-believe him.

DVE stepped up beside the saber guard now. "The men are aboard, Sir. We good to go?"

SG-12 looked round, finding that it was just himself and DeeVee in the hangar. "Has Scout Sergeant Cade boarded already?"

"OS-702? Is he coming...too?"

Twelve nodded, and glanced through the magcon field towards the captured Starrunner, now securely held by by the huge two-claw pincer hanging down from the hangar underside. "He got collared by ISB near the lifts." He paused, narrowing his gaze as he he tried to re-acquire what about the craft had grabbed his attention.

"Oh stang, one of the outer airlocks is opening."

Sure enough, a burst of mist-like atmosphere was jetting out through a widening slit in the hull as someone onboard slowly opened one of the seven foot by four foot crew airlocks on the side hull.

"Oh that is never good." SG-12 agreed, as the trooper drew his blaster.

Tag: The Vanguard

 

IC: Owen Byrne
Vidhaftande, Boarding Ram

The ramp finished closing, and Owen let out a sigh.

"What are you sighing for Soldier!" his father's voice roared. "You are doing your job, take pride in that!" Another breath, "What do you think you are Soldier! Just a wall of meat to absorb blaster bolts? Look around, these sorry excuses for sentience wouldn't last two seconds in a lightfight. Only thing that will get them through is you and your training. You hear me soldier you are these bodies only chance at surviving this suicide mission. So stand up straight, no more sighing, act like the trooper I trained."

Following his father's instructions he hardened his stance, stiffening his neck as the lights came back on. His visor automatically dimmed in reaction to the lights coming back on. It was black for a little less than a second, then came back up to full brightness. He turned off his lamp, no need for it in this place any more. At least his mistake didn't do irreparable harm.

"Argh!" a voice shouted from down the corridor. It was Cervantes, this would make the second time he'd caused her pain due to his actions.

"You alright CeeCee?" he called out moving towards her, "Any progress on those spacesuits?"

"Good work, Cheryl!" The chief yelled back. Owen hissed though his teeth, congratulating a droid for doing its job, it'd be like congratulating him for cleaning his weapon. It's something he should do every day. It requires no praise, the reward one gets is continuing to breathe. A droid has programing, no thought, no personality, no matter how much it sounded like a sentient or acted like one it wasn't it required no praise, no positive reinforcement it should just do. If it says no, wipe the memory, start fresh.

He came up alongside the chief he stood next to her a small pool shadow around his feet. Angling his head down at her waiting for a response.

TAG: Sith-I-5

 

IC: Scout Sgt. Orlisan Cade, OS-702, ISD Gaurantor hangar
Florn

Cade’s weapon rested closely against the back of his left shoulder as he took long strides to catch up with SG-12 and the boarding platoon.
Being an non-commissioned officer meant he didn’t have to play the hurry-up-and-wait game, so his pace was brisk but not rushed.
He tugged on the slack adjustment tether, loosening the sling and putting more space between the weapon and his body.

The pre-mission trance continued as he walked.

Suit seals, check.

Fore-arm plates, secure.

Heads up display, green across the board.

Sidearm functions check, good to go.

Without missing a stride he swung Fiona from behind his shoulder beneath his underarm and into his hands. The movement was so smooth it looked like a choreographed dance step; done so many times he didn’t hesitate. Weapon on safe.

While keeping her mouth pointed up, he checked the weapon and made sure she was primed.

Cooling cell placement, intact.

Compensator, ready.

Venting port, clear.

Thankfully he had zeroed in the sights two days prior so he wouldn’t need to take any extra time. He was already behind the pack thanks to that nosy ISB official. As he entered the giant hangar bay it was business as usual, the mech platoon was busy with maintenance on several TIEs. Their tools were relatively quiet so you would sometimes never know they were there.

Cade finally met up with the team near the transport. As he arrived he noticed everyone’s attention was on the starrunner.

“Sir, are we ready to board?” he inquired of the Saber Guard.

TAG: Sith-I-5