Star Wars Jedi Outcasts RP, v.6 [The Adventure Continues]--All Are Welcome!

IC: Zayl Kraer
Dantooine, Mon Calamari Cruiser

"I wasn't needed anymore," Zayl replied after a moment of hesitation. With a shrug he continued, "My unit specialized in going behind enemy lines and destroying and sabotaging. Once the Yuuzhan Vong were defeated there was a significant decrease in such targets. There were some holdouts that needed to be dealt with but, two years after the war ended, there's hardly any significant assignments anymore. The Galactic Alliance, the Imperial Remnant, all friendly now and focusing on reconstruction rather then war. I thought my skills could be used elsewhere to help in other ways."

That wasn't the full reason of course. Sure those reasons had something to do with it, the atrocities during the war may've been another, but what really convinced him to leave was what happened at Ylesia. He felt guilty, still did, probably always will despite how so many others had told him it wasn't his fault.

If only I got out of the way faster, he couldn't help but think, an image of the out-of-control speeder coming to mind, dropping right down towards him. Maybe killed the pilot sooner.

Maybe a break had been all he needed. He had just wanted to get away from it for a while; the Infiltrators, SpecForce, the Alliance. He just never felt right with being in the ranks after Ylesia. Maybe that was why he was trying this out. It was a way for him to continue his work but without the oppressive atmosphere that had gathered back in the barracks. Before anymore discussions could continue, Zayl turned his head to the door just as it was opening.

If it wasn't for the little one that had ran into the rooming crying "Mommy", Zayl would not have made the connection that this was one of Earwen's children as he did now. This child, a boy, did not possess her blue skin nor her red hair so the soldier wouldn't have been able to go by likeness in appearance.

Leaning back in his seat, Zayl crossed his arms over his chest as he took interest in this spectacle, a brow raised slightly and the corners of his lips curving just slightly upwards in a hint of an amused smile.

TAG: Earwen, Laine, Menelluin, Others

 

IC: Sia Kalayn

?Commander. My name is Sia Kalayn. I would like to arrange a meeting with your chancellor or whoever is responsible for recruitment and offer my services as a fighter pilot to your organization.?

It was a good start at least that they had acknowledged her opening hail, especially that they did without involving weaponry. Now the question seemed to be whether they accepted random individuals into their ranks without references. Always adapt.

TAG: NPC, and thanks

 

OOC: I?ll catch up. Eventually. Two or three more posts, and I?ll be starting the process that will begin the trip that will begin the journey of at least one of these characters to the general vicinity of the rest of the Outcasts.


IC: Fyar

Everything had been just fine, running smoothly, status quo, take your pick of adjectives. Until everything started blowing up. Fyar ran down a corridor, bathed in the glow of red emergency lights, a fire burned behind him. A sharp bang resounded through the hall, and a panel in front of him exploded. His arm instinctively rose to protect his face, and shrapnel rang on his light armor.

What the **** is going on here?

He, of course, realized that they were under attack. His best guess was that a big, ugly badguy ship was parked just inside the hanger bay, blasting the rear of the said bay. Probably dropping off lots of smaller, but no less ugly, badguys.

Scratch that he thought as he rounded a corner. The baddies are already here.

Three men, none of whom he recognized, were clustered around a body on the floor. Fyar recognized the body, Giama, a zeltron woman he had asked out last week. Blood boiling, Fyar pulled his pistol and shouted something incoherent. The first man never knew what hit him, he died the moment Fyar pulled the trigger. The second turned just in time to get shot clean in the face, and toppled. The third had managed to get her blaster rifle halfway horizontal before she went down with an indeterminate number of holes in her chest. Next thing Fyar knew, he was kneeling next to Giama, fumbling, trying to feel her neck. There was no pulse.

That was when his brain shut down.

It might have been a few seconds, or a few hours, but he suddenly found himself opening the hanger door, covered in blood that wasn?t his own. The pistol was back in its holster, he held his blaster in its stead, and his sniper rifle was slung across his back. The door slid halfway open before it ground to a halt. Fyar rolled through, and nearly found himself pasted to the wall as a barrage of bolts flew past. He had called it right, the hanger was lit with blaster fire, little shapes were crawling all over the place, and one big freighter was floating right in the middle, firing off occasional rounds. He ran, firing as he went, and ducked behind the nearest cover he could find, but he wasn?t the only one. Commander Lirian was there, as well as a Cathar that he knew by reputation only ? that of their resident combat multiplier.

?Commander!? He yelled over the din as he popped up to get a few shots off.

?Escalos!?

?What the frell is going on!?

?Bilkam betrayed us! you seen him!??

?Dunno!?

Lirian and the Cathar both came up and fired a few rounds. They must have hit something, because there was a yell of pain, and the blaster rounds flying over their heads decreased in volume.

?This is crazy!? He yelled. ?We?re not going to take all ? ?he popped up to get a good look. ?-twenty of these guys just trading fire. Cover me, I?ll try to get up to the observation center. Once I?m in position, I?ll start sniping, and you can get to our ships.? He said, pointing at the craft sitting some thirty meters, and half a galaxy away. The ships consisted of two converted light freighters, three T-wings and a TIE Defender. ?Once you?re in, you can take out that ship, and start spraying the hanger.?

?Your plans always leave something to be desired!? Lirian yelled as she felled another hostile.

?You have a better idea?!? He yelled back. He suddenly fired straight up, hitting a light, plunging the battle area into darkness.

?Cover me!? He yelled, and sprinted off into the blaster-lit dark.

 

IC as Commander Sunford:

"Permission granted. Sending coordinates for landing now. The Chancellor is located in Briefing Room A. Please feel free to use any computer to access a map for directions to the room once you have landed. Commander Sunford out."

Tag: Sia

OOC: Sure thing!

 

IC: Kal Jeti
Fondor, Oridin City's Mudpuppy Din

It was dim, as dim as Yaka's sense of humor on the first day after an implant, and he liked it. . .dim. Looking over his cards he had to grin, not that the others noticed since he had been grinning for the past two weeks on planet. Going from one seedy high rollar club to the next around this worlds globe, and the deals were greatly overripe.

He played Pazaak to fluff his purse at the start of most nights, it was an easier game of skill, decks, and the luck of the draw, half the nights he won, the other half he was lucky to break even. Later he would hit the Sabaac tables, working his way up from low stakes to high, and he finally made it. Sitting at the big boys table, in a mirrored alcove off of the main floor, with the heady smell of salt, burning tabaac, roasted wuorl, and omaton sauce masking the baked drutash grubs.

The Herglich on his left had been obviously over extending her allowence to bet most of the evening, just barely keeping her pockets from being empty, the human male was just folding his hand and bowing out of the game but just hanging about whilst smoking to see where his lost money ended up. Next was the Mrlssi, indulging in nervous snacking as the shifter tumbled again changing the few cards not in the interference field near the center of the table. Lastly, and certainly not least was the Sullustan happily dipping another drutash grub in the omaton sauce before leisurely sucking it down between it's jowel folds.

Automata, there was only one, the RH8 CardShark with its partially extended force pikes partially extended. Since the house already was assured a cut from whoever won this game and was not actually participating it was more of a harmless measure that kept all the players honest.

Looking down he glanced once more at his new cards, he had a Commander of Sabers, Ace of Flasks, and the Star for a total hand of 10, thirteen short from any sure fire bet of winning this hand with a 23. Something he was sure he would need to be able to do anything about that Sulustans smug presence. Taking one from the dealer he brought his hand up to four cards with a Nine of Flasks, and a total of 19.

Taking the plunge he put his two possitive cards, the Ace and Nine into the interference field and sat there staring at his Star and Commander cards, hoping for a miracle. The sabacc pot grew as everyone upped the anti, some with cash, others with substitutes of property or posessions once passing the limits of their nights credit markers. He had to put his ship on the line as the anti was raised for the third time, finally making the Mrllssi see reason and fold.

Down to three players now, he sat there watching as the Herglich put down his hand, a -19 the dealer bot declared. A good hand in most games. A soft hum of the tumbler systems timer was heard as the Sulustan suddenly went from calm and gloating at the sight of the other's cards to a rapid frantic attempt to save his own cards. Hoping he wouldn't make it, he could almost feel his heart quicken when he saw the faint edges start to alight to notify of a change before dimming without affect. A 22, one point shy from a pure sabacc, and the Sullustan was gladly gloating now with wide sweeping gestures. If it wasn't for a seel on the room the only other human would of probably left by now, if only to get away from what was obviously irratating him. The Herglich for some reason seemed to be taking his big loss in stride...very odd.

Nervously he looked at his hand, watching the soft glow cover the face of his cards before revealing his new hand. The Star had changed into the Three of Flasks, which would have made his previous hand a 39, an instant fail. The Commander shifted instead into an Idiot, worth absolutely nothing.

With a broad smile he laid out his cards, happily listening to the bots announcement that he had won the final hand with an Idiots Array. Having a game with a built in loop hole like that hand always made things more fun, especially

 

IC: Sia Kalayn

?Thank you Commander. Nenima out.?

Sia received the coordinates and accepted them into her ship?s computer. She then rolled her ship?s belly downward and began descent into Dantooine?s atmosphere.

The thrill of atmo entry had never been drilled out of her system, but soon enough she broke through the lowest clouds. After a minute of buzzing ground cover she got her first visual of the grounded Mon Cal. It was saddening, the sight of such a proud vessel trapped on a planet by its own weight for lack of whatever resource the Outcasts were short on. For a brief, weak moment she remembered vast resources she at one time had access to herself. Her training enabled her to squash that memory and return her mind to the present tasks, namely docking procedures.

Sia glided Nenima into the docking bay. Once inside she dropped her landing supports and brought the ship down onto the spot the computer indicated. Even before her ship was firmly on the ground, Sia was already running through the powering down procedures, lockdown procedures, and the popping of the canopy.

Already hangar techs were beginning to approach her and her ship. Sia waved them off however and said to the one who appeared to be the highest rank. ?I wish to meet with your Chancellor and have been given permission to be here. While I am gone however, please do not approach my ship.? Sia waved her hand at her ship, which sealed itself with an ominous hiss.

It was a simple matter of finding a map, memorizing the route, and making her way towards Briefing Room A as the Commander had directed. When she arrived at the door she prepared to hit the door alarm, but stopped herself when she heard voices on the other side. Not wanting her opening impression to include the disruption of a meeting, she moved next to the door and stood at ease.

TAG: meeting room if they want


IC: Aran Crypt

A single eyebrow was raised. ?You?re sending me off in that thing??

Aran and his friend stood before an old Imperial shuttle, circa 3 ABY. The ship was equipped with a hyperdrive and basic shielding, but its weapons had been ripped off and it looked like that at one point it had been used as a target for multiple calibers of weapons. All of the once-holes had been repaired, but with an obviously different metal from the original material. The whole ensemble wasn?t helped by the fact everything had been pained florescent orange.

?Can it actually run safely?? Aran

?It can fly, in space too. It?s airtight and all.? his friend answered.

?It doesn?t even look like it can land, or even take off in the first place.? Aran?s eye kept being drawn to the landing supports. Each support was shaped differently.

?Stop worrying. It will take off.?

?Can it land??

?Of course.?

?Without crashing??

His friend grinned. ?I said, stop worrying.?

?And that crashing part??

?It lands, without crashing.?

?Most of the time??

?Most of the time.?

?Even if I?m the one piloting??

?Even if you?re the one piloting it.?

Aran was out of arguments. His friend wasn?t going to budge: this was the best he could come up with. He hoisted his bag and boarded the ship. The cockpit was only a few paces from the ramp. He dropped his bag behind the pilot?s seat and sat down in front of the controls. At least the paint hadn?t made its way into the interior of the vessel.

His friend dropped into the co-pilots seat. ?Warm her up and run the few startup checks. I?ll punch in the coordinates so you won?t have to worry about that.? Aran shook his head and began running the checks. For all his nagging doubt, the ship checked out just fine until at last all that was left to do was takeoff.

?When you get there, just tell them I sent you. They didn?t know me too well, but I?m hoping well enough.?

?I know how to promote myself. And if they doubt me I have official records and friends I?ve worked with who would vouch for me.? Aran looked over at his friend and grinned. ?In fact, mentioning you could turn out t

 

IC:

Zayl's answers to why he'd left the Alliance were interesting, but those weren't the only reasons. The brief pained look he had after answering told Laine that. She didn't even need to use Jedi skills to see it, but she also knew that they'd know, perhaps, after Zayl felt comfortable with them.

Earwen's boy came tumbling in before she could say anything, and she was amused with his grin and impatient salute. As Earwen dealt with her son and Zayl kept observing everything, another person slipped into the room and stood beside the door.

Laine crossed the room again and extended a hand toward the dark-haired woman dressed all in white, and Laine figured that the young woman was looking for a place with the Outcasts. She was Force-sensitive, but seemed to have taken a different route. As she remembered, Order Jedi preferred brown. "Chancellor Laine Snowtrekker. You are?"


TAG: Sia/Blade

 

IC as Earwen:


"I wasn't needed anymore. My unit specialized in going behind enemy lines and destroying and sabotaging. Once the Yuuzhan Vong were defeated there was a significant decrease in such targets. There were some holdouts that needed to be dealt with but, two years after the war ended, there's hardly any significant assignments anymore. The Galactic Alliance, the Imperial Remnant, all friendly now and focusing on reconstruction rather then war. I thought my skills could be used elsewhere to help in other ways."

The slight hesitation before answering made Earwen wonder what the other reason was, but she accepted his answer. He gave a good reason for leaving and Earwen's worries over needing to deal with a potential deserter were set aside.

"I am grateful you are considering the Outcasts for utilizing your skills." Earwen replied moments before the door burst open.

"Mommy, mommy, guess what I..." The sight of her son running in and suddenly shifting from excited little boy to wanna be soldier while somehow managing to maintain his balance made Earwen chuckle. "Menelluin reporting. Requesting permission to speak with the Vice Chancellor."

Earwen stood and humored her son with a salute before replying, the laughter still in her voice. "Permission granted. Where is your sister?"

Tag: The Room

 

IC as Menelluin:

Giving his mother an annoyed look for her laughter Menelluin replied. "Who knows? You know how El is. Anyway, Grandpa let me modify a speeder and it ran! I was able to make it faster!"

Menelluin glanced around the room. "You're gonna have a meeting. I want to stay."

With that statement Menelluin took a chair and looked up at his Mother. His eyes challenging her to just try and tell him no.

Tag: The Room

 

IC: Maranya


Rage like she had never felt before flowed through her veins. On her way to the hanger, she had shot four hostiles, and found six people she recognized. Good people. These mercs, whoever they were, were trying to kill all of her people, for what reason she did not know.

And they were succeeding.

The only survivors she had seen so far were Fyar and Jayled. The former had run off on some poorly-thought-out plan to outflank the enemy, the latter was still with her as they continued firing. The enemy had hunkered down, same as her, and were popping up occasionally to blindly fire shots. Maranya?s return fire and Jayled?s were far more accurate, but they were still outnumbered.

?However enjoyable the fight is,? Jayled said, feline features bared in bloodthirsty content as he fired yet another burst. Maranya primed a grenade. ?This cannot end well for us, Fyar is powerful, but against so many he might not survive.?

?He?ll survive!? She shouted, and launched the grenade in an overhand throw. It bounced off a crate and disappeared behind the enemy?s cover. Panicked shouts rang out, then a BANG sounded, and pieces of rubble flew over their heads.

?Probably, but regardless, we need another solution. I do not wish to die like a small animal in a cage.? With that he stood up, and regardless of peril, of the red bolts flying around him, he traded fire with the enemy. Maranya stood with him, but had not yet fired when she realized that one hostile had managed to get in close, and was on Jayled?s blind side. Suddenly, the smell of burning fur washed over her, Jayled toppled and fell against her. Desperately trying to keep her balance, her rifle was pinned by the Cathar?s considerable mass, so when the merc who had shot Jayled jumped over a crate to move in, Maranya drew her pistol and fired it one-handed. The first shot missed, the second, third and fourth did not. When the hostile fell, Maranya let herself fall too, pushing Jayled aside so he would not fall on top of her. She frantically checked him for signs of life. There were none.

For a few moments, Maranya didn?t hear the blaster fire, could not see the splashes of red reflecting off the walls. All she could think was that she had failed. Failed everyone, she hadn?t seen any other survivors, so her mind assumed there were none. She hadn?t yet seen enemy mercs falling to Fyar?s rifle, so she assumed that he hadn?t made it. In those few moments, she decided that she wasn?t going to survive, and neither were these sithspawned cowards.

She lept over her cover, yelling a battle cry that she was not aware she possessed. She ran, did not bother with cover or tactics, she just ran for the nearest T-Wing, which just happened to be the only one still intact. And somehow, she made it. Her blaster pistol burned down the two mercs standing between her and her objective, and before she knew it, she was inside. Maranya didn?t bother buckling up, she just closed the canopy and quick started the fighter. The engines couldn?t activate from a cold start, no matter, she didn?t need them. The T-Wing made a tremendous roar, the repulsorlifts engaged, and it lifted into the air. Blaster bolts struck the hull, but didn?t penetrate.

Let?s see how you like it.

The laser cannons spat coherent fury at her enemies, they scattered, but could not evade the devastation she wreaked upon the battlefield. Then lasers shot back , one of them hit her port engine and shattered it. She had forgotten about the dropship floating in the middle of the hanger, firing its guns at her. Maranya snarled, and hit her secondary trigger. A pair of concussion missiles streaked across the hanger, followed by two more. A tremendous explosion filled the hanger, a moment later, the shockwave hit, and her T-Wing was thrown into the hanger wall.

It was a few moments before Maranya realized she wasn?t dead. Through her shattered canopy, she could see that the explosion was quickly fading, but she was watching up-side down. At that point, her senses caught up with her,

 

IC: Sia Kalayn

Sia stepped forward from the door but before she could introduce herself, another man entered the room and announced himself. For a moment she indulged in the thought of what would have happened to him if he?d done the same thing to one of her Overseers, but then spaced the thought. Such anger was petty and unnecessary. She waited in place and observed.

TAG: The Room


IC: Aran Crypt

Well, he made it. After a day or two on board the exceedingly boring shuttle ? during which he discovered that parts of the interior had indeed been painted the same florescent orange as the exterior ? he finally could look out at the planet Dantooine. Getting down was going to be another matter, but first on his priorities was making sure he wasn?t shot down during descent.

Aran looked over at the communications panel and blinked. The whole thing was a mess, and each button looked ready to come off in his hands. In fact as he fiddled with them trying to open a channel some of the controls didn?t feel like they were locking into place.

?If I get my hands on him... now where would the... hold... switch I said hold!... hold still... ow, ow ow ow... okay, is that supposed to stick like that?....?

Aran of course didn?t realize that he?d hit the correct button the first time and had been transmitting on the Outcasts? channel for a minute or so.

TAG: someone to play an NPC real quick again, pretty please?


OOC: KM! Slow up so that I can at least get my doctor set up in his new environment first!

 

IC: Kal Jeti
Fondor, Oridin City Sub-basement of Mudpuppy Din

Painfully his conscious mind came back in spurts, fitful and blurred. Being man handled by large brutish beings, most likely security of the thug variety. A brief moment of clarity of being laid upon a med table, just before the needles pierced his skin, held by the hands of a dulcet angel.

Then finally waking, upon the cooshens of cushy-formed sway back recliner. The room slowly came back into focus, the great black, brown, red, and white blurs focusing into the amenities most often associated with an office with smooth stone walls that held just enough moisture to add the scented tinge of mold to be added to the air. Though as he sat up, he realized through the pain of his headache that some of the red on the walls wasn't from the rocks, and that he essentially was in a dead end.

Albeit a very cushy one the only door in or out of the admittedly small office had a very clear LOCKED symbol on it, there also wasn't anything that could be picked up either he noticed as he stood looking around the room. The chairs, the desk, the wall corner illuminators, were all bolted and fused into place, even the small desk lamp was some how or other made inseparable from the desk.

That was when it dawned on him, this wasn't a cushy office, it was a cushy holding cell for the establishment. "Hello?" he called out with an air of uncertainty, hoping it might prod whoever was watching or listening to show themselves. But nobody answered.

Checking himself he found nothing but cloth, every weapon, every comm, every last cred, and even his shoes were missing, funny how he didn't notice that at first. Not rusty though, had to be the drugs then, those scoundrels.

"Hello, glad to see you are awake." Came a soft, self-assured voice from the intercom, "Are you ready to talk, or am I disturbing you?"

"Sure, let's talk. I was going to do my hair but it can wait." he quickly replied. Having to force himself not to act out the mannerisms of the last female that had used that line as an excuse to not go on a date.

Quickly the door rose up into the air, admitting a slightly tall, bald human to walk into the room. A Fondorian by birth and tradition most likely, which would make him one of those from the minority with a swollen ego of self intellectual superiority to fill a half dozen space barges. If it weren't for that minorities success record they probably would have been taken down a few pegs by plenty of willing individuals. "I am Saal Kydra, head of Mudpuppy Din's security and complaints department."

Moving around the man came to a seat behind the desk, "You have a very interesting situation that was created yesterday, though unfortunately not too uncommon. But it did raise suspicions. Now I am not a legal man myself, but let us see if we can come to an agreement about this whole mess."

"The amount of a hundred creds, a free game during my next visit, and a free room at one of your posh affiliates sounds about right." he replied with a smile.

"Thank you, and normally I would wholly agree, but you see actually you owe us. You see we saved your life yesterday or at least a limb, performed necessary medical tests to make sure to disprove the claims, cleared your name for any other fine establishments, and even have been performing holding duties in our personal safe of the sabacc pots contents as well as your personal items. Normally we don't have to perform these kinds of services, but I think something to the tune of fifty percent of your winnings should about cover your expenses that you have racked up with us." The smile on the mans face was enough to cause a slight wonder if the man had a concierge in a past life, with a added spittle of loan shark.

"Now wait a minute, I shouldn't have to pay anything, the person who made the false claim, nearly cost me limb, she should pay! Not me." quickly he retorted with his only source of an escape goat, half his winnings wouldn't be the end of the world since it d

 

GM Approved!

Name: Texar ?Tex? Dillett
Gender: Male
Age: 34
Species: Besalisk
Homeworld: Ojom
Affiliation: Jedi Outcasts
Personality
---Traits: Very friendly. Likes to chat your ears off if he gets the chance. Also is rather proud of his work, and likes to brag about his skill to fix and modify whenever a craft that he has worked on does something important.
---Likes: Oil, hydrospanners, conversation, starships
---Dislikes: Cafeteria food (the Meatloaf Surprise is a definite on his ?Hit List?), dull people, egotistical people (even more proud of themselves than he is), astromech droids (they?re always getting beat up one way or another, and he has to fix them).
---Habits: Tends to clean his tools every five minutes, even if they?re not dirty. He likes for his tools to look clean and professional, even if his clothes are not. Also, he pushes the meat and vegetables on food trays to opposite sides of the plate and experiments with dunking random vegetables into the meat and then eating the lumped food.
Appearance:
---Skin Color: Brown
---Hair Color: None
---Eye Color: Green
---Clothing: A dark green tech jumpsuit that is covered with oil and grease stains from tech work. He sometimes wears a blue baseball cap-like hat.
---Other Attributes: About 1.9 meters tall, Tex is a little larger than the average Besalisk. He weighs about 220 pounds, and has a slight belly due to his lack of exercise. However, he?ll try to do something about that soon; maybe when there?s a treadmill installed in the base, he?ll go and work out on it to stay in shape.
---Other Details: A small scar on the top right arm that stemmed from a run-in with an angry astromech droid that had been partially slagged during a space skirmish. It had grabbed his tool and made a cut with it as he flailed to get it back from the droid?s robotic arm. He also has mostly-healed burns on his arms from an explosion caused by some of his technological work earlier in his career as a tech.
Weapons: DC-17 blaster rifle and his box of tools. Tex is not much of a fighter, but he still carries around a rifle in his toolbox just in case something goes wrong. If his blaster disappears, he?s always handy with a tool, so enemies must look out for flying tool projectiles.
Starship: None
---Name: -
---Class:-
---Hyperdrive Class: -
---Weapon(s): -
---Shields: -
---Sublight Speed: -
---Crew: -
---Passenger(s): -
---Max Cargo (kg): -
---Interior Description: -
---Other Details: -
The Force
---Sensitivity: None
---Religion: None
---Lightsaber ? (Maybe in his dreams)
-----Crystal(s): -
-----Blade(s): -
-----Color(s): -
-----Handle Description(s): -
---Force Abilities: -
---Force Weakness: -
---Other Force Object(s): -
Biography
---Personal History: Tex Dillett was born on Ojom, as most of his fellow Besalisk are. He was always interested in fixing objects, and in his spare time decided to try and learn some skills in the repair business. Due to the nature of his species, there weren?t many opportunities for Tex to make a living as a mechanic, so he decided that he would have to get off-planet at some point and make his way to a planet which would appreciate his talent and maybe have a job for him. In the mean time, Tex continued to work on small projects, starting with small mouse droids and working his way up to larger objects, such as power droids and small recon droids that were missing the recon portions of their operating matrix. Once in a great while, Tex found himself a job working on a neighbor?s speeder. Although those were the most fun for Tex, as he could take various parts of the speeder apart and examine them before putting them back together with a few ?slight? modifications, these opportunities were very rare, and most of the time Tex felt a little lonely because he was stuck working on measly droids while there were others in the galaxy who got the chance to fix ships and speeders. Thus, his goal to get off-planet became even more intense. He could hardly get to bed some ni

 

IC: Tex Dillett
Hangar

?You know, the meat today tastes a little off. Maybe they kept it in the freezer a bit too long.? Tex Dillett took another big bite of the ?corned beef? sandwich and chewed it quickly with his big mouth. ?I mean, how can you not make a decent sandwich out of this stuff? The meat?s great, but they gotta? stop messing with it! If I were in charge of the kitchen, I would keep a good steady eye on everything. Maybe that way the sandwiches would actually taste like they?re supposed to.?

?Tex, just give it up,? said another hangar tech, rolling his eyes. ?You?ve been going on and on about the littlest things recently. We don?t have the money to buy the best grub, so just get over it.?

?Just making a little observation, that?s all,? Tex said, quieting down. The tech was right; Tex had been going a little too far lately about the quality of the sandwiches they received for lunch. However, he had had better food than this before. Heck, last week?s rations were lightyears ahead of this week?s supply of mystery-meat sandwiches. Sighing, he took another bite.

?Tex, you see that new astro droid?? asked a different tech, turning his head to stare at the lug that Tex was. ?Looks like a real shiny, that one. Must have cost quite a bit to get. It?d be a shame if it ever got slagged on a mission.?

?That?s what they pay us for, ain?t it? All it would need would be a few screws here and there, and it?d be as good as new.? Tex pointed his sandwich in the direction of the tech. ?We don?t exactly sit around and talk about sub-par sandwiches all the time, do we??

?Um, you do, actually.?

?Just a figure of speech. So, what does this droid look like, Tom? You say that it?s a shiny??

?Yeah. Must have a real gleam to it. It?ll be a shame to actually put something like that to work.?

We don?t get ones like that every day. Who?s getting it installed in their ship??

?No idea. I just learned about it this morning.?

?Figures. It?s been fun, guys, but I gotta? run. Got some things to fix up before the day is done.? With that, Tex finished his sandwich in one big bite and walked away. It was another typical day in the hangar; not much to talk about except the arrival of a new part on most days. However, a droid was rare; most of the time, the big-time people in the organization didn?t bother getting new droids. They mostly made do with existing models, unless the pilots had brought their own with them when they had joined. Tex swore that he had worked on all of the droids that had ever gone through that hangar on a mission, and tried to tell that to as many people as possible. He was extremely proud of his work; it was really all he had ever had. If he had never learned about the awesome career that was mechanics and repair work, he probably would be laboring in the few fields on his home planet to grow some food and make a little bit of cash. This result was a lot better in his mind, and he realized how fortunate he had been in getting off his backwater home planet and making it to his current gig with the Outcasts. It was certainly a great job, and he was friends with the other techs, even if they nagged him constantly about his jolly nature.

Making his way to a small bench that held his toolbox, Tex sat down on a chair and picked up a ball of scrap metal that had come in the previous day. He examined the ball closely; from the looks of it, there were some droid parts in it, and those parts were somehow fused together with what might have been a bumper for a landspeeder. Then again, that probably was a bit of a stretch; bumpers didn?t weigh that little, so he threw that possibility out. His day had been very boring, and all he could come up with to alleviate some of that boredom was to stare at a ball of metal. It seemed more interesting than staring out the hangar doors at the land surrounding the base. His concentration was snapped when a messenger approached him

 

IC as Commander Sunford:

?If I get my hands on him... now where would the... hold... switch I said hold!... hold still... ow, ow ow ow... okay, is that supposed to stick like that?....?

"Get your hands on who Sir? Do your realize you are broadcasting everything you say to the Outcasts?" Sunford had to mute the comm so that the speaker on the other end did not here her laughter.

Tag: Blade

OOC: Since you said "pretty please". Please note that anyone can play an NPC. It doesn't have to be me. I just like my sock.

 

IC: Aran Crypt

Aran jumped when he heard his control panel talk back at him, hitting his head on the ceiling in the process. The thump was very audible on the other end.

?Oh, sorry. Didn?t realize the mic was on.? He took a seat, rubbing the top of his head. ?I was venting my agitation at the man who got me this excuse of a ship. But Outcasts you say?? He flattened his palms on the control panel, careful to keep his fingers away from each button. ?I was looking for you all. Well, sent to find you is more accurate, but beside the point. My name is Doctor Aran Crypt and I am wondering: could you use a medical officer in your newly reformed organization??

TAG: Sunford

OOC: And yeah I know I can use the NPCs, but it?s been a while so I didn?t want to mess with the NPCs until I?m back in the swing of things. Thanks for NPCing for me BTW.

 

IC as Sunford:

"I'll leave the..." Sunford realized the red light indicated mute was still on and switched the control.

"I do not have the authority to say what personnel is needed or unneeded here. You do, however, have clearance to land at the coordinates I just sent you. As part of standard procedure you will be met by a security detail upon exiting your ship. Please give them your full cooperation and you will be quickly on your way to Briefing Room A, where the Chancellor is meeting with all new recruits."

Tag: Aran

OOC: Sure thing!

 

IC: Aran

?Coordinates, input... aha! Here! Thank you ma?am. Heading down.?

It took him a full minute before he located the comm button and turned it too the ?Off? position. When he was sure it was really off, he took the flight controls and began coming down. For several, agonizing minutes the whole ship shook around him, reminding him of a child and a toy rattle. The comparison was not encouraging, especially since many of the noises he was hearing now sounded like that rattle.

He couldn?t hold his breath the whole way, but when he broke through the clouds he took a deep breath, as if already inhaling the planet?s air supply. The rest of the trip was delightfully uninteresting and it came to an end as he set the shuttle down with a loud clunk and rattle.

He dropped the ramp, shouldered the large backpack with all his worldly possessions, and walked down to the floor of the hangar bay. As he touched ground, he turned and noted with disappointment that his atmospheric entry hadn't burned off the hideous orange paint. Oh well.

TAG: NPC

 

IC as Earwen:

"You'll have to tell me all about that speeder later. You can stay while the others arrive, but when it is time for the briefing you will need to go help your sister unpack."

Menelluin's glare in response almost hid his reluctant obedience. Earwen looked over as Aden entered the room right behind a woman, glancing down at the recent message on her datapad from Commander Sunford she assumed the unknown woman must be Sia Kalayn.

"Aden Kya. Not trying to actually make a scene when I arrive, but... hi?"

"Welcome Aden Kya. I am Vice Chancellor Earwen Lightrider. The woman directly in front of you is Chancellor Laine Snowtrekker, the other woman standing near you, I can only assume is Sia Kalayn - whom Commander Sunford had informed me was in route. Zayl Kraer is the man seated here." Earwen said, as she indicated Zayl with a nod. "And the young one here is my son, Menelluin Lightrider. Please, everyone, come find a seat. The formal briefing will not start until the others have finished arriving, but for now, the Chancellor and I are happy to answer any of your questions and may have a few ourselves."

Tag: Aden, Laine, Sia, Zayl, Menelluin, and anyone who enter the room

 

IC as Lieutenant Da?lek:

Lieutenant Da'lek approached the brown haired man with the backpack slung over his shoulder with the caution ingrained during his training years ago.

"Doctor Aran Crypt, I am Lieutenant Da'lek of the security team. It is my job to inspect all weapons brought on to the base in order to ensure the safety of all personnel. I will need to check your bag as well."

Tag: Aran

 

IC: Aran

Aran eyed the security Lieutenant. ?Understood. I don?t have any weapons on me however.? He carefully unslung his bag and set it down on the ground. ?In here is just personal items. Oh, and some medical equipment I always keep with me. Please please please be careful with it. Most of it is hard to replace.? Not to mention had been with him for a long time. He hated feeling sentimental about objects, but his feeling about them remained.

TAG: NPC

 

IC as Lieutenant Da'lek:

"I will be careful, Sir." Da'lek carefully worked his way through the contents of the bag. Finding nothing of concern he handed the bag back to the Doctor. "All clear. You are good to go." He then proceeded to give directions to the briefing room and mentioned that any computer terminal would have ship schematics if he were to get lost.

Tag: Aran