Star Wars STAR WARS: INTERVENTION (A story-telling style OT starfighter game)---Always taking new players!

Name: Trenton Redwing
Rank: Former Major
Gender: Male
Age: 43
Species: Skadi (near-human)
Homeworld: Erith City, Sigma-13 Nebula, A’care Cluster
Affiliation: Freelancer (Mercs)

Personality
---Traits: Calm and Reserved in public, though a bit boisterous in private, holds a grudge longer than reasonable
---Likes: Varunian tribal music, the smooth pull of a trigger, tech
---Dislikes: Wolatarian Mining companies, loud beings, time wasters
---Habits: Compulsive weapon maintenance, minor habit of snooping, rubbing of artificial eye

Appearance
---Skin Color: Pale Blue, partially healed scarring around the left eye socket
---Hair Color: Stark White, shoulder length
---Eye Color: Dark Blue; Left eye lifelike but obviously artificial
---Clothing: Black cargo pants, tool belt, faded silver shirt, Skadi Navy officer’s jacket: Black with blue and silver detail
---Other Attributes: 1.6m Tall, slight figure
---Weapons: Wolatarian .308 Sniper Rifle; Skadi Naval Officer Blaster

Starship
Name: Sigma Flare
Class: Si-12 “Ice Demon”
Hyperdrive Class: Class 3
Weapons:
---Two Standard Twin-Linked Cannons
-----37mm Rail Cannon
-----Sodium Cannons
-----One of each mounted on each wingtip
---Three Universal Delta-Class Weapon Pods
-----Eight Interceptor Sw-12 Missiles (Outer Pods)
-----Two Anti-Capital Sd-23 Proton-Fusion Torpedoes (Inner Pod)
---Shields: Omni-directional Ray shields, Rear facing Particle
---Sublight Speeds: 1800mps
---Crew: One Pilot
---Details: A thin, isosceles triangle ship, painted in a deep blue-grey pattern to blend in with the Sigma Nebula. The weapons are mostly older Skadi military designs.

Biography
---Personal History: Trenton was born within sight of Erith Palace, in one of the more prosperous districts. Enlisted in the Royal Navy at the age of 18 in time to serve as the bridge gunnery officer on the frigate Valhalla during the Twins Conflict with the Wolatarian houses.
---Military History: Served on the Valhalla during the opening battle of the Twins Conflict. The opening battle ended with the Valhalla severely damaged and hulled in multiple locations. With a casualty figure of near 50%, few of the ship’s company moved on to fight in the later battles. Redwing himself spent several months in rehabilitation to replace his left eye and was returned to the front as commander of the escort frigate Orion. He spent the rest of the war at that position until the end of the war in 16BBY at which point he was given command of a minor outpost on the end of the new Woltar-Skadi border zone. At 6BBY he retired from the Navy to blow his retirement package on the Sigma Flare to begin his career as a freelancer.
---Traumatic Experiences: Destruction of the Valhalla;siege of Eirth in 18BBY

 

**A joint effort between GenOochy and KraytDragon90**​

In Character: Adán Kinge and Trenton Redwing
Low orbit, Planet Bespin, Bespin System, Anoat Sector, Greater Javin, Outer Rim Territories

Intro Music, followed by Liberty Space Suite

“Alright, this is our stop. Thanks for the help,” the massive gas freighter, looming a couple klicks ahead of him, said over the commlink, before switching to contact the orbital station over the gaseous planet of Bespin. “This is Skadi Hagalaz-Four, to Tibannopolis. I am requesting to moor.”

‘This had better be worth it’, was Adán Kinge’s thought as he piloted his fighter-bomber around the three massive freighters. This was a one-way contract job, as the freighters would be spending two weeks here at Bespin unloading several million cubic meters of enriched tritium gas, often referred to as “H-Fuel” in the cluster, and then taking on the same volume of Tibanna Gas. Once they were loaded, they would have a new contract escort take them back to the Sigma nebulous region on the edge of the A’care cluster. It was too long to wait around, burning credits, and Bespin, on the edge of firmly controlled Imperial space, was always a good spot to pick up some illicit work. This would be his third visit to Bespin.

The gas giant filled his viewscreen as the Sabre fighter-bomber glide gracefully into the ionosphere; light flares on the shields flashed as hypersonic collisions with high altitude dust particles occurred. Trailing just a couple hundred meters off his port wing, the smaller, stealthy Ice Demon fighter flew in formation with him.

“You’ll find Bespin to be remarkably unexciting, Trenton.” He said over the comm as Cloud City hung on the horizon ahead and below them. “That’s the mining operation. Not much to look at; just a lot of rust, gas and fire. But, what it lacks in class, it more than makes up for in cheap drinks.”

Trenton Redwing twitched the throttle of the Sigma Flare up to accelerate another hundred meters ahead of the Sabre before locking back into formation speed with a burst of compressed gas. Standard Skadi protocol was to keep a closer formation in blue space, but out here in the dark black, no one kept to that. Everyone knew it was better to keep your fastest foot forward.

“Been here before, few times. Couple times during the Conflict on escort runs, those damn Freeworlder ‘rats would chase us half here and back, and once more to fuel up after a particularly unfortunate end of an op.” Redwing frowned darkly. As unfortunate as it had been, it had still been a sight better than any mission he ran during the Conflict. That particular ‘sight’ had left far too many Skadi, and Woltarians, dead in the ice.

The former Naval Major rubbed his left eye before continuing, “Stuck pretty near the docks in all those cases though. The Navy didn’t exactly have a load of time to spare letting their commanders go carousing. I hope you know a good place for some good ale, along with that cheap stuff you’re talking about. Sidewinder Fangs, preferably.”

“We’ll have to find where they keep the ‘good stuff’ for sure.” Kinge chuckled to himself and switched secondary comms to the Cloud City control frequency.“Cloud City Control this is Freelance flight of two, inbound from the east-southeast, eighty-seven out on beacon seven. Requesting airspace access and landing instructions.”

“Freelance flight of two, what is your docket number?” came the reply from Cloud City.

“We’re with Shiva Liquid Transport flight of five to Tibannopolis. That would be,” he reached beside him and pulled a datapad out, checking the itinerary. “One-one-seven-five-seven, copy?”

“Freelance flight, be advised you will receive escort into the city. All active sensors and target acquisition systems must remain off or you will be engaged. Cleared for dock Wesk-Four.”

“Well, they’re a bit jumpy here,” he said shaking his head. “Back to the drinks, I think we can find a few good ones. There’s usually a few outfits at the bar trying to pick up some extra pilots for escort missions; simple stuff really.”

“Shatiska,” Redwing muttered as he switched off his sensors and targeting scanners. “Why do they always make us pull our teeth before we dock, eh, Neb?”

“No clue, especially when you have passive engagement systems on most fighters. I could lob two missiles out of this thing in a second without setting off any alarms; typical security theater,” he mused out-loud. “Oh, look, here comes our escort now.”

Twin-poded hover vehicles closed on them, making a wide arc to come up behind the two fighters and Kinge made sport of making a passive, off bore-axis acquisition of one of them. With the press of a trigger, he could have sent a hypersonic missile flying back to the Cloud Car. His weapons were on safe, but it was a point he had to make in his own mind. He passed over the secure comm, “Shadow lock on port bandit. No clue, what-so-ever.”

Redwing nodded and pinged the starboard fighter. “And starboard’s mine. Just for the practice, of course. It’d do them well to learn a bit about A’care tech someday.”

“Hard copy on that,” he said. It was only a few minutes later that the two vessels came to rest on the Wesk-Four docking platforms of Cloud City. Kinge took his time shutting down the fighter and running post-flight checks on all the systems. He always made sure the ship he left behind was ready to fire up and take off at a moments notice. Finally, he set the engines to extinguish and opened the side hatch on the fighter-bomber. The wind whipped at his jacket, which he pulled closed and made his way over to the docking attendant. He registered his ship with a QuickPass datachip and billed the expenses to his personal account.

“Hey, Trenton,” Kinge began to say, “watch out for the Ugnaughts.”

Redwing nodded as he checked his blaster once more. “Good to go, Kinge.”

Tag: Bravo

 

OOG: @KraytDragon90 and GenOochy, feel free to join the activities.



IC: Jason Lasso
Casino, Cloud City, Outer Rim


Lasso found one of the more "respectable" establishments on Cloud City, nonetheless high class, but you wouldn't find a respectable person here gambling away their money. No, this type of high class was more for those who dealt on the opposite side of the law. And gambling wasn't foolish here, it was dealt with every ounce of motivate. Whether you were rich or poor, everyone had a story...and a lie.

The fancy multicolored lights, dimmed lights, dancing girls on elevated platforms, and the smell of booze and various smoked substances all gave the casino its environment. The various tables---packed with would-be winners, losers, and on-lookers---dotted the deep red carpet up front, while slot machines took up the deep red carpet in the back, full with would-be dreamers of fortune as well. Or, maybe, filled with those wanting to forget their misfortune of life. A second floor ran on-top, a railing overlooking the bottom floor, a winding wide black staircase taking one up to the floor at the back of the casino. Like the entrance that Lasso just entered through---two black suit, tie, and white ear comlink security guards packing hidden heat (weapons) on their person somewhere just inside the entrance to either side---a body guard stood up at the entrance to the second floor, checking IDs before un-clipping a red rope across the entrance and allowing a person or persons through. Usually the people wanting entrance were dressed high class, although there were a few exceptions as Spacers were in the line as well. It all spoke of the invited and privileged up on the second, which Lasso could see now---private rooms with a security guard that he could see patrolling each side of the floor.

Two general and big refreshers were in the far back of the casino, a semi-circle bar to the right with seating and a bartender, and the dancing girls on three circular platforms to the left, opposite the bar and across the packed tables (the slot machines and stairs to the second floor behind the bar and dancing girls). Except for a few on-lookers, most people in the bar were distracted by their games and except for a few glances and comments, paid the dancing girls no attention. Music played throughout the casino at a fair enough volume to be noticed, but not drown out everyone else.

Lasso was briefly looked at by the security guards and Lasso took a glance around, hoping to find Taab and company this time. Last time he had checked with Taab, the new Merc security chief said he would be in one of these casinos on this floor, keeping an eye on their new recruits. This was the third casino Lasso had checked with no luck until now. He spotted Taab at the bar, at a perfect spot at the bar to be able to observe everything in the casino at once without having to turn his head much and draw attention.

Jason walked over to Taab, a seat "somehow" free in the otherwise packed casino. Lasso didn't need to ask questions to know how.

"What be in stranger?" Asked the bar tender.

"Whyren's Reserve," Jason replied.

When the drink arrived, taking his best shot to look as if he didn't know Taab, but judging by the company present and their own new recruits mixed in at the tables, Lasso figured he was doing a poor job at it. But he kept it going, taking a sip of the drink. "So, how are they doing?" Jason asked without looking at Taab.

Lasso's question never got answered however, as blaster fire could be heard upstairs, followed by the breaking of one of the foggy glass doors providing security to each of the private rooms on the second floor above and that followed by a women's screams that were once kept in by the glass door. Everything happened quickly, one of the black suited guards falling down from the floor above to a table, the one by the stairs drawing a blaster but collapsing to two blaster bolts to the chest. Finally the source of noise and blaster fire became clear as a man came running down the stairs, a briefcase in one hand and a blaster in the other.

No one moved from the tables, rather staring at the human, the music still playing over the silence. The man made his way through the crowd until the two guards at the front door came forward with blaster pistols in hand. The man stopped right in front of Taab and Lasso.

"One thousand credits up front," the man said to Taab and Lasso.

Lasso just looked away for a moment, taking a sip of his drink.

"Fine. Two thousand. I'm good for it, I promise!"

"STOP THAT MAN!" A older businessman pointed from one hand towards the man standing between Lasso and Taab, another hand holding a blood soaked white napkin over his noise and two women escorts helping him to the railing above.

"Three thousand!" The man pleaded. Lasso glanced at Taab, catching one of the guards on the balcony circling above with a blaster pistol in hand out of the corner of his vision; Lasso trusted Taab would take care of the man upstairs, while Jason drew his S-5 heavy blaster pistol in his right hand, slipping in between Taab and the man, to come up behind the new man's body, effectively hiding his movements from the two guards ahead, while Lasso's movement would of masked Taab's weapon movements just long enough for him to get the jump on the guard upstairs.

As Lasso came out in front of the brief carrying man, Lasso one-handed held his S-5 and popped each of the approaching security guards, dropping them to the ground. Screams filled the casino at the blaster shots, as Lasso entrusted Taab to hold protect the rear as he grabbed the brief carrying man by the arm and yanked him forward as he made an exit for the casino's entrance/exit way.

Lasso could hear the older businessman now yelling, clearly a man of money, "FIVE THOUSAND CREDITS FOR THE BRIEFCASE AND HIS DEATH!"

Lasso exited the casino, feeling Taab close behind, the other new Merc recruits stuck on having to find their own way out, but if they kept their head low, they knew to meet back at the Sentinel. Lasso spun around to the opposite side of the casino wall as numerous blaster bolts punched into the wall from the interiorand flooded out into the open corridor. Lasso dropped the man's arm---Taab on the other side of the doorway---as he drew his second blaster pistol, his WESTAR-34 blaster pistol, and now having a blaster pistol in each hand. He blindly---and hoped to the Force that he didn't hit one of their own recruits or any innocents---put both blasters around the corner in a reach and fired several bolts from each to slow down any pursuit. Their only clear escape was back down the corridor, presenting clear targets for those after them in the casino for five thousand credits. On Taab's side there was nothing but corridors leading to more businesses and casinos down that way, while to Jason's side there was a access maintenance hatch to outside of Cloud City, no doubt among a catwalk or other device in deadly high winds.

"You better be worth it," Lasso yelled over the blaster fire as he brought his blasters back in, "Their offering five thousand! Own up or we're out!"

"Fine, fine. Five thousand and a cut on the profits," the briefcase man said.

"What profits?" Lasso asked, knowing that the wall couldn't hold for ever and a mass mob was about to come through that door, "Never mind! Chief!" Lasso yelled to Taab, not wanting to use his new Security Chief's real name in such a situation, "We better get clear! Meet you back at the ship!"

One of the five thousand credit hunters came around Jason's side with blaster pistol in hand and Lasso laid the Rodian to the ground---smoke coming from the alien's head where the blaster bolt went through---with a clean head-shot by his WESTAR-34 at almost point-blank range. It was time to move!

"Lets move!" Jason told the briefcase carrying man and then said, "Duck!" The man ducked and Lasso leveled his S-5 to the maintenance door and popped several bolts into the door's seal, hoping the door wasn't military grade, which luckily it wasn't, more of a maintenance hatch and emergency exit door grade. Lasso pushed the briefcase man forward, popping the door several more times as he ran, this time his aim not as good, but the powerful bolts did their job and jarred the door lose from the lock. As they reached the door, Lasso spun around as several blaster bolts hit around him and his new contract. He leveled two wanna-be bounty hunters---a human and a Duros---down to the floor with his WESTAR before turning back around and kicking the door as hard as he could loose. The door gave way, wiping open by the fast paced winds and the force sucking paper and debris out the door into the bottomless planet below.

"Go!" Lasso urged, pushing the man to the maintenance catwalk outside. Whether Taab was going to follow them, pick off a few would-be followers and then come, or find a different way back to the Sentinel, Jason didn't know. All he knew was that he was starting to trust the new Security Chief more and more and knew the man wouldn't let him down.

A few blaster bolts whizzed past through the doorway and into the open night sky as Jason and briefcase man made their way along the catwalk, working their way up two levels to the landing pads where the Sentinel was berthed. As they were rounding a corner in the catwalk works, Lasso felt a blaster bolt sizzle past him (the briefcase man still in front of him) and turned, stopped, aimed, and took the Bith in the shoulder with his S-5, causing the alien to loose his balance and fall off the catwalk and to the airless abyss below, a scream occupying his fall.

"GO! GO! GO!" Lasso repeated and quickly as the briefcase man stalled; Jason pushed him further ahead to the landing pads another level up along the side of Cloud City. Jason holstered his WESTAR and kept his S-5 out, giving a hand to grip against the high wind that swirled his jacket's ends to its command.

The landing pads and the Sentinel were in the distance; Lasso dialed up his wrist comlink for the shuttle and when Ler answered the other end, Lasso's voice came through with the wind wiping around Cloud City's sides, "LER! GET THE SENTINEL READY NOW! WE'RE LEAVING!"

Lasso closed down the comlink and hoped that Taab had found a way out of that hell-hold, as well as their new Merc recruits...


TAG Bardan_Jusik, KraytDragon90, and GenOochy
OOG: The briefcase man is Rusty "Two Thumbs" McWilliams, found on the second page of the Quick Reference under Johnny Boy's NPCs bridge crew.

 

IC: Havah Jeth
Actualize Station

Taking the cred chit he carefully locked it in his gaunlet in a small pocket near his elbow underneath the armor. "Noted, looks like the Jod cheap-skated us. Not surprised." he grumbled as he laid there and began flicking through his different ration options. Choosing one on the fly he opened a Catalian Hair Moss Soup, taking a bite of the paste he noted that it wasn't the worst version he had ever tasted although it was a far cry from the best. Pic had a few text messages that caught his eye as he sucked down and forced himself to swallow the ration goop.

"Think you could arrange a meeting with someone I could talk to about that before I leave? Or beyond nutritional supplements and personal favors do you have any other regs or reqs I should know about?"

TAG: Bravo

 

IC: Chief Medical Officer Russel Cook
Hanger Bay, Actualize Station, Northern Stretch (Kingdom of Jod)


"Talk about what?" Russel asked, adding, "There's nothing else I can think of. But, Havah, I do have a question for you. A personal question. Do you trust Captain Lasso? I mean really trust him with your life?"


TAG Mitth_Fisto

 

IC: Kasumi
Mess Hall

Kasumi has been listening to what was being said. She could only listen, the pain was still setting in for her, but it didn't affect her hearing. The banter made her smile a bit. The questioning had begun and it was only a matter of time before someone either got frustrated or just walked away because there was an end to the line of questioning.

Kasumi broke her silence.

"Fress, what are your thoughts on the best way to handle this one? "

Tag: Fress

 

IC: Fress Colias
Actualize Station Mess Hall

"Fress, what are your thoughts on the best way to handle this one? "

Fress frowned as she thought over the question. The real question was, was the kid really ready for such a mission. Havah and Streets would be with Atin in case any issues arise. She knew the kid was looking for a chance to prove himself. It felt right to allow Atin to fly this mission. She turned her attention to Kasumi with a smile. “I sense Atin is meant to fly this mission for us. I have a feeling he’s looking for a chance to prove himself and we should give him that chance. Havah and Chris will be with him in case he runs into problems. With their experience there shouldn’t be too much of an issue.”

Coffee_Ninja, Bardan_Jusik

 

IC: Havah Jeth
Actualize Station, Hanger

Looking at the doctor with his milky eyes he sighed, heavily. Humans. "Does it matter? He is the leader for the company I work for. We are mercenaries, as the name suggests, Mercs. No matter what illusions you may find doctor, it is not a family, but if it was the heart and possible a bit of it's soul passed out of it with Taller. He signed me on, Lasso joined later, to take orders from him or you feels. . .odd. Perhaps it is the sobriety talking, but no, I don't. He is too eratic, too young, and he makes me feel old. As if I am supposed to be a rock and a place of sanity, when I feel I am but a wraith that cannot die when it should."

Getting up from the table he collected his rations in neat orderly stack, "I trust him as far as i can throw him on the. . .Dune Sea. Why do you ask?"

TAG: Bravo

 

Opps, wrong thread.

 

IC: Beskaryc Taab
Blue Falcon Casino, Cloud City, Outer Rim

Taab sat at the bar, his back to it so he could better observe the casino floor, and be seen doing it. He had ordered a drink, a tihaar as the night before, but it sat there where the bartender had left it, virtually untouched. The new recruits had been told to "let their hair down" for one last night and Taab was here to make sure no one did anything too foolish. He was sure that Lasso wouldn't have minded his new security chief taking a break either, but letting his hair down was something Taab had never had an easy time doing. He would much rather be working, so here he was.

Even to the Casino's patrons he appeared to be on the job, either acting as extra security for the Casino or else waiting for a bounty to show up. Casino security had given him a close look of course, but he promised to cause no trouble so they had let him in. Of course he had left his carbine back aboard ship, but one couldn't look at the Mandalorian and not know he was heavily armed in any case.

He took his attention of off the new Devaronian as the Captain walked in and took a seat with Taab. "So, how are they doing?" Taab thought it over for a moment. Their new cook wasn't even here at the moment. He had wandered back to that dive he had worked at for a "going away party." Taab had paid off the Spacer Farewell's owner to make sure Mr. Biggs didn't get in any trouble and was there at the landing pad on time. Their other new recruits were here however. Totter was drunk at the other end of the bar. Though he had made several comical attempts at coming on to the dancers in the Casino, he hadn't had any luck with them and was now...regrouping.

Both Nub and Al'kesh were both playing in different games of Sabacc out on the Casino floor. The cards weren't being kind to the Sullestan but the Devaronian was doing quite well. Well enough in fact that if he won much more he would be able to afford his own ship and wouldn't need the Mercs. Taab had been considering doing something about that when the Captain's question came, though he never had a chance to answer it.

There was shooting and the crashing of glass followed by screaming. Taab did a quick accountability check to ensure that none of his new crewmen were involved and was then greeted by a man with a briefcase. "One thousand credits up front," he pleaded to Taab and the Captain. Taab made a show of turning his head towards Lasso, making it clear that he was the one to negotiate with. Lasso for his part seemed to ignore the man and took another sip from his drink. Taab admired the cool demeanor.

The man with the briefcase did not though. He soon became frantic, upping his price as security began to move in on him. Lasso began to move slightly, and Taab recognized that he was about to draw his blaster. "Time to go to work" he muttered under his breath as he used his HUD's target acquisition and tracking system to "tag" the security men who were quick becoming a threat. As Lasso fired on the two below, Taab drew one of his own Westars and put a pair of bolts into the guard upstairs. Spinning the blaster on its trigger guard he quickly returned it to its holster before the man even dropped to the floor below. Jango had taught him that back on Kamino, and it never failed to impress.

Lasso began pushing "briefcase" along while Taab took up a rear guard position. The businessman above cried out, "FIVE THOUSAND CREDITS FOR THE BRIEFCASE AND HIS DEATH!" A tempting offer, and one Taab would have taken if the Captain hadn't have already chosen their current path. As they left the casino Taab caught Al'kesh's eyes, he was distraught as the commotion had cost him most of his winnings. "You two, get him" Taab pointed to Totter, "back to the ship." Then Taab moved off to follow the Captain and his new friend.

"... Chief! We better get clear! Meet you back at the ship!" Taab nodded in agreement, as he drew one of his blaster once again triggering a few quick blasts towards their pursuers.. He watched as Lasso blew the maintenance door and moved outside. The Captain should be able to handle himself out there Taab thought to himself. Especially if I provide roadblock duty here. Taab then set about his self appointed task with gusto. At first he used just his blaster pistols (he had drawn the other one by this time) to keep the ever increasing flood of would be bounty hunters at bay. But he was fairly exposed here, and a bolt striking his forward armor plate reminded him of that. Taab put his own bolt between the eyes of the one that had hit him, a female human, before holstering his pistols and retreating back out onto the catwalk. The wind whipped at his kama as more blaster bolts started flying through the door. The hunters were closing in.

Standing on the catwalk, Taab pushed his right arm around the hatchway. By this time anyone in Taab's line of fire would be someone intent on killing him, so with little compunction he pressed the trigger on right gauntlet and let loose with a jet of flame from his flame projector. Within moments the high pitched screech of blaster bolts was replaced by the screaming and wailing of burning sentients. Taab withdrew his arm from hatchway, that should put an end to their pursuit, but just in case...

Taab looked up, knowing that Lasso should be off of this section of catwalk by now. Now he armed and dropped a thermal detonator at his feet, it rolled on the walkway for a moment as the Mandalorian leapt off and ignited his jetpack. The charge exploded, taking out the entire section of catwalk outside of the still smoking hatchway as Taab flew up towards the landing pad level. Along the way he scanned for further opposition but found none. It seemed that anything that the Captain had found in his way had been dealt with. Taab landed up on the landing pad level, just a few meters from where Lasso and briefcase man were standing. "I never finished my drink."

@Bravo

---

IC: Atin Taab
Mess Hall, Actualize Station, Northern Stretch, Kingdom of Jod

Atin couldn't help but grin at the suggestion that he might get behind the controls of an X-Wing sometime in the future. “How well can you fly through an asteroid field?” Before he could answer though Kasumi broke her silence. "Fress, what are your thoughts on the best way to handle this one? " Atin used the opportunity to rush off to the food line and grab himself a shurra fruit. He got back just in time to hear Fress finishing up her answer.

"...eir experience there shouldn’t be too much of an issue.”

He spoke up now, "I can handle a few rocks, as for flying an X-Wing, I always enjoy learning a new weapon's system." He took a bite out of the shurra fruit, but kept talking. "So...callsigns, job assignments upon landing any of that sort of thing I need to know?"

TAG: JediFalcon, Coffee_Ninja

 

IC: Fress Colias
Actualize Station Mess Hall

"I can handle a few rocks, as for flying an X-Wing, I always enjoy learning a new weapon's system." He took a bite out of the shurra fruit, but kept talking. "So...callsigns, job assignments upon landing any of that sort of thing I need to know?"

“Yes, we’ll need you to help run background checks on the new applicants,” Fress smiled in amusement at the excitement Atin was showing about flying an X-wing. She nodded towards Kasumi. “Her call sign is Phoenix. Mine is Firecracker. We need one for you.”

“How about Jr?” Cody suggested with a grin causing Fress to glare at him. “What? It was just a suggestion.”

Fress shook her head as she leaned back in her chair studying Atin. She wasn’t sure what a young man would go for at that age. It suddenly made her feel old. “How about Bounder? It’s another name for Rogue. Or you could chose one?”

Bardan_Jusik

 

IC: Atin Taab
Mess Hall, Actualize Station, Northern Stretch, Kingdom of Jod

Phoenix and Firecracker, Atin smiled at the callsigns. Then again he always did have a thing for fire. His father used it from time to time, and respected its usefulness as a weapon he knew, but he didn't share Atin's enthusiasm for it. Fire was cleansing. It burned away the old and brought forth new beginnings, just as Beskaryc Taab had brought Atin a new beginning when he had found him a five years ago. Looking back on it, Atin knew he had been born in fire.

Atin mulled over the idea of choosing his own callsign as he finsihed his fruit. He had never thought about what he would call himself if given the opportunity. He knew his father had started calling him Atin, the Manadalorian word for stubborn, when buir had adopted him. But choosing a name for himself seemed so... liberating.

He knew from stories he had heard, that his father had gone by the moniker of "Iron Hand" back during the Clone War, at least for ops that saw him behind the controls of a fighter. He could only assume he would go by that callsign again if need be. It was a name that suited him, and Atin would have to think of something equally fitting for himself. He smiled again as an idea hit him.

"Call me...Scorch."

TAG: JediFalcon, Coffee_Ninja

 

IC: Fress Colias
Actualize Station Mess Hall

"Call me...Scorch."

Fress gave a short nod causing her to cringe at the name reminding her he really was a sixteen year old. She did give him the choice to choose his own name. "Remember to let the bridge know before we lift off,” she glanced at her chrono and stood up. “Meet me in the hangar bay in one hour. We’ll be leaving for Smugglers run very shortly. If you have alcohol on board the Crusader, please keep it locked up. Jeth is under orders to keep sober. I’ll catch you two later.”

Fress headed out of the mess hall and back towards the hangar bay to check on Jeth. She wondered how Russel was coming along with him. She walked into the temporary med ward and spotted Russel. “Russel, how it’s looking for Jeth? Any instructions he should follow while on this mission? Or should he be on this mission and how bad is the damage?”

Bravo, Bardan_Jusik,. Coffee_Ninja Mitth_Fisto

 

IC: Jason Lasso
Casino, Cloud City, Outer Rim

Taab landed up on the landing pad level, just a few meters from where Lasso and briefcase man were standing. "I never finished my drink."

"I know the feeling," Lasso replied, the high wind finally dying down to a more tolerable level with other structures to block its currents; Lasso nodded to the Sentinel in the background---and also took note of the two strange looking starfighters that landed on near-by landing pads, "Uh," Lasso said, "Strange looking starfighters," the young captain shrugged, "Big galaxy, I guess." Jason turned to the briefcase man, "Okay, so where's our payment? And what about this thing you said about a piece in on the profits? Oh, and your name too. Sorry, credits are looking mighty good right about now."

The man looked around nervously, then to Lasso and Taab, "How can I trust you?"

Lasso raised an eyebrow and exchanged looks with Taab, "Well, for starters, we saved your life. But, if that's not good enough, the five thousand credits we discussed in the corridor will do. Without delay."

There was a commotion behind them---from where they had come---and Lasso watched as several grappling hooks were trying to take hold of the top level's edge; Lasso commented on the would-be bounty hunters' motivation, "Well, five thousand credits can motivate any man," Jason glanced to Taab, "What say we take the briefcase and leave his corpse to rot here with those bounty hunters?"

"NO! NO!" The man replied; he calmed himself, "I mean, no, you can't. If they get their hands on this briefcase...," the man shook his head, "No, they can't."

"If its a doom and gloom story, we're already involved in one of those and I don't want another," Jason replied, noting their Red Rock adventures privately; the grappling hooks tightened and Lasso could hear the grunts of organics hauling themselves up.

"Aren't you going to stop them?" The man asked.

Jason shook his head, "Not without five thou---" the familiar wine of ion engines could be heard and up above two TIE Fighters appeared, aiming for their direction, "---the Empire?"

"No, worse," the briefcase man replied, "The Hutts."

"That is worse," Lasso replied.

"Look, we can stand here and wait for those TIEs or we can---"

"MOVE!" Lasso said as the TIEs started a long range barrage of their location---while inaccurate at such a range without skilled pilots behind the controls, it nonetheless got the point across. Jason holstered his S-5 and ran for all he was worth, hoping both Taab and their paycheck was behind them as green laser blasts dotted the surface around them, sending up debris into the air. All three of them went for cover, diving into one of the landing pads---the same landing pad with those two strange looking starfighters. Their pilots weren't too far off when Lasso rose, meeting the blue skinned aliens, "A thousand credits a piece to take down those TIEs and provide a escort out of system," Jason offered and then said to his group, "Lets go!"

Whether the two pilots would take this quickened offer or not was unknown, but the offer was there nonetheless. And right now, against the Hutts, all the help in the galaxy could help.

"Who's going to pay them?" The briefcase man asked.

"You," Lasso replied.

"ME!" The man replied in shock.

"Look buddy, either take the deal or we'll giving you to the Hutts. Savy?"

The man nodded as the rest of the new Merc recruits ran up the ramp from the inside of Cloud City. "Okay," Lasso said, nodding everyone else (Taab and the briefcase man) up the ramp, "Lets go."

In short order, Lasso was in the pilot's seat, Taab in the co-pilot's, and the briefcase man and Ler behind them in seats, "Taab," Lasso was saying as he snapped in the crash webbing, "You'll have to operate the weapons. Make sure your shots count, because we have civilians here to account for. Ler," Lasso said, "Any news on those two starfighters?"

"I already did my research, sir," the droid said proudly, "Their fresh off of a contract with Shiva Liquid Transport and are free for contract."

"Communications?" Lasso asked, lifting the Sentinel off the landing pad.

"Already programmed in," the droid replied.

"Good," Jason said and hit the comms button, hoping to raise the two starfighter pilots, "Shiva Liquid Transport," Lasso looked at the data scrolling down the viewscreen as he rotated the shuttle around for a clear exit, "Freelance flight, One-one-seven-five-seven. Have you accepted the offer? If so, I welcome you to a longer contract if you can prove your skills,” Lasso's sensors beeped and Lasso looked down at it: more Hutts had joined the party it seemed, "You have five TIE Fighters to clean off of our exit path, baring point two, two, point eight-dash-five Echo. Watch your fire on civilians. Do you copy?"

Lasso brought the shuttle to the exit path he had told the hopefully soon-to-be Mercs and gunned the engines for planetary exit and outer space. Being a landing craft and not a starfighter, the journey would be a slow one. If there was ever a need for elevator music, this would be it. Elevator music meets Top Gun...what a combination!

TAG Bardan_Jusik, @KraytDragon90, and @GenOochy

 

IC: Ysanne Isard (npc), home
Location: Imperial Centre


The beautiful, but relatively ice-hearted head of Imperial Intelligence walked up from the private landing bay to her apartment, let herself in, and headed for the sofa in the living room so that she could get the kneeboots, red to match the rest of her outfit, off.

Then she would get a glass of wine, and try to relax.

It was late evening, and she had come straight here from seeing His Imperial Majesty Palpatine to complain...err, express her dismay, at that idiot Tarkin's destruction of Alderaan without giving her a chance to evacuate the data centre and personnel.

Footwear and socks off, Ysanne dug her toes into the thick pile carpet, and tried to use the senastion on her toes and the soles of her feet to calm herself, but it was not working.

"You are supposed to be Imperial Intelligence. You are supposed to know these things." She mimicked the Emperor's argument, while selecting a plastic cup for her wine. The mood she was in, best not to risk the glasses. She would probably crush one while holding it, and end up in the bathroom having to dig slivers out of her palm.

The poured purple liquid sloshed round the cup as she swirled it in her hand, then took a sip.

Ah, that was good. Let tomorrow worry about the galaxy

Tag: no-one

 

STAR WARS: INTERVENTION​

June 2009 to present​

CHAPTER 5​

Echoes in Eternity​

Music​

​

​

Two months before the historical Battle of Yavin in 0 BBY, a small freelance mercenary outfit known as the Mercs engaged County of Lim military forces on the planet of Watava, in the Mid Rim, aiding the Republic of Watava. The outcome of the battle would be decided by a Imperial Fleet arriving in orbit above the planet shortly after the battle begun, arriving on the pretense of ending the civil war between the Country of Lim and the Republic of Watava. As history would show, this was not the case; while the Mercs escaped, fleeing their contract to live and fight another day instead of being captured by Imperial forces, they fled with, ironically, the one item that had brought the Imperial fleet in orbit above the planet: the Red Rock.

The Red Rock, a piece of rock from a long ago dead planet, is said to have the properties of unlimited energy, healing ability, the power to produce Red Space---a speed of travel faster then Hyperspace---and the key to the mythical and legendary Kingdom of Jod. The Red Rock can only be fully utilized by recombining all of the missing fragments of the once whole planet; the Red Rock, having the ability to self-regenerate, is called to other pieces of its planet. Using this ability, the Galactic Empire commissions a secret task force under the command of ISB Investigator Hilick Soal in 2 BBY, the mission for its twelve warships: to recover all the missing pieces of the Red Rock Planet and recombine them at Project Zero, the codename the Empire uses for rebuilding the Red Rock Planet beyond the planet of Christophsis in the Outer Rim. The Planet of Watava would be one of Investigator Hilick Soal's last stops before completing his 2 year assignment. The Mercs, recovering the piece of Red Rock unknowingly, rob the Investigator of achieving his mission objective and the Empire gives chase to the fleeing Mercs from Watava.

The Mercs---pursued by Imperial forces and other events across countless battlefields including the Octagon, Free Trader's Alley, Captain 'One Eye,' The Debris Field, Asteroid One, Desert Planet 22-52A, the rescue of Winterkill and the Victory-class Star Destroyer Red Death, the Imperial Convoy, the Red Ocean, the Imperial Trap, the Block, the Greater Javin, and countless smaller events and battles within those---have emerged a wiser, but much depleted mercenary unit. Through alliances with the Rebel Alliance, once thought impossible by Merc command, and the mysterious Kingdom of Jod, the "Mercs" have endured much, suffered much, and---it would appear--achieved little in the face of Aldeeran's recent destruction by the Empire's super weapon, the Death Star.

Their leader gone, as well as their second-in-command, a young new leader has taken over as the Mercs' leader through the coming events. Prophecies of a Chosen One to bring balance to the Force and of the Mercs themselves being the secret protectors of that Chosen One through the Select Chosen Prophecy shape the Mercs' later adventures against Imperial forces closer to the events of the Death Star. The Prophecy of the Select Chosen reads like this:Like shooting fires across the stars, they will be the galaxy's heroes in it's most desperate need and darkest hour. They will be like wild fire to the civilizations, not heeding to control or authority, but wild and rogue in heart and spirit. Heroes of justice, of right, of nobleness. Of volition they will be. Of character will shape their path. Guardians of the Stars they will be known as.

The Mercs enter the final stages of their campaign against Imperial forces in desperate need of heroes themselves. Rebuilding their shattered unit under a new leader and preparing for a final showdown against Imperial forces at Project Zero with their Rebel and Jod allies, the Mercs' have one final card to play as their piece of Red Rock---captured by Imperial forces---is on its way to Project Zero to complete the Empire's evil plans...but also destroy the Empire's efforts as well with a secret by one of the few surviving Jedi left in the galaxy embedded in that piece of Red Rock.

As forces of good and evil face down across the galaxy, from Yavin 4 to Project Zero, echoes in eternity will be the decisions of a few, as revelations of things yet to come are made and allegiances are made for the coming War of Shadows...




OOG: Intervention: Allegiance has officially been renamed Intervention: Echoes in Eternity.

 

In Character: Adán Kinge, Three of Pentacles
Wesk-Four Docking Platform, Cloud City, Planet Bespin

We hadn’t been on the ground for more than five standard minutes when they hit. Human dock manager is handing back my credit chip and I can hear them in the distance. I’ve only heard them once before, with it’s a sound you never forget. A painful, screeching whine that just gets worse with the Doppler effect. I turn to look over my shoulder when I can see they are headed on a descending path that looks like a strafing run.​

​

Music: Danger!

​

Only a second later, the two Imperial fighters unleash a torrent of green blaster fire. It tears up the landing platform elevated beside and slightly above us. By this time, I’m already on the platform, uttering curses to the heavens as spawl and flaming debris rain down. The TIE fighters scream overhead and begin to climb rapidly back into the sky. I look up and notice one of the beams has put a nice, scorched mark on the side of my fighter. It’s only a cosmetic wound, and shouldn’t affect functionality. But my blood pressure is already rising. I’m standing, when three humans nearly run me over. The seeming leader of the group quickly rattles off, “a thousand credits a piece to take down those TIEs and provide an escort out of system.”​

​

Now, normally, I wouldn’t take such an offer, but my starship was just hit and I’m suddenly not keen on being in Cloud City. I was going to counter offer, but he took his group and began racing back to the other landing pad. I storm back past Trenton towards my ship, my false leg beginning to act up and cause me to virtually drag it along.​

​

“They’ll have to make it twenty-five hundred, but I’m not staying here,” I said as I passed Trenton and I spun around on my good leg. “Dockhand! Clear my account, no services rendered; we were never here.”​

​

I think he understands, as he begins fiddling with the holopad, still eyeing the TIE fighters that seem to be making a grand arc in the sky for a second pass. Engine are still hot, as I haul myself into the fighter which means I can be in the air in less than ninety seconds.​

​

I’m switching on the fighter when I get commed from a shuttle on the open channel. “Freelance flight one-one-seven-five-seven, have you accepted the offer? If so, I welcome you to a longer contract if you can prove your skills. You have five TIE Fighters to clean off of our exit path, baring point two, two, point eight-dash-five Echo. Watch your fire on civilians. Do you copy?”​

​

Brilliant frakin’ move! I’m not sure if he just interrogated our civilian IFF, or has a manifest hack, but he just revealed who we are and by passing social standards, opened a contact. Anyone listening just heard that, which I’m sure includes the capital vessel these bogies are from; and now there are five. Part of me is tempted to take the shuttle rising off the platform in front of me out of the sky and see if I can get a reward from the Empire. Might be stopping some lead insurrectionist, or a fugitive weapons smuggler, who knows. But the rumors I hear about contactor operators going to the Galactic Empire are mixed; some say they pay well, others say they often imprison, or worse, mercenaries at the end of the contract on trumped charges. I go ahead and send him my public encryption key and start a secure link to them and with Trenton’s fighter..​

​

“This is the Three of Pentacles. You’re gonna have to make that thirty-hundred a piece; and I want hyperspace cords on your intended jump path, because, if you even think about ditching us, we will hunt you down, we will find you and we will space your shebs. Capisce?”​

​

My repulsors begin to surge and stabilize as the shuttle is lifting off the platform in front of me. I look around for Trenton, who I don’t see on the landing pad, and here is to hoping he’s in his ship now. This may have been a rash decision, I’m beginning to think, yet it could pay off. ​

​

I rotate the vessel as the landing braces come up and begin engaging my targeting reticles for a passive lock on the nearest TIE fighter. This was going to be a very hot egress. ​

Tag: Bravo KraytDragon90

 

IC: Jason Lasso
Casino, Cloud City, Outer Rim


“This is the Three of Pentacles. You’re gonna have to make that thirty-hundred a piece; and I want hyperspace cords on your intended jump path, because, if you even think about ditching us, we will hunt you down, we will find you and we will space your shebs. Capisce?”

Lasso looked over at Taab and "Briefcase". "Its your money," Lasso said to Briefcase, "But considering our circumstances..."

"Yea, sure," the Briefcase man said in a bit of a sadder tone, "Why not, take all of my money."

"You mean the Hutts' money," Lasso corrected; the Briefcase man stared at Lasso hard; Lasso replied, "Unless you plan on shooting me, you better save that look for someone else," Turning around, Jason shared a quick glance with Taab---a look that said everything: watch Mr. Briefcase, something smells funny----and then opened up the comm, "Three of Pentacles, this is the Luck's Gamble. You can have your credits only after you prove your worth. I don't like losing on my investments. And the hyperspace cords are being...well, we can talk about those details after your done. We'll send you our out-of-planetary destination, since we're not going to hyperspace, at least not yet. Luck's Gamble clear."

Jason turned off the comm and looked at Taab, "Man, never knew dealing with mercenaries could be such a pain in the arse. Now I understand what it seems like to be dealing with us."


TAG @Bardan_Jusik, @KraytDragon90, and @GenOochy

 

Name: Maya Whitelight
Gender: Female
Age: 22
Species: Zeltron
Homeworld: Harrun Kal ?
Affiliation: ?

Personality
---Traits: Very playful at times when gets stressful. Always there on time went needed. Wanting to away help along the way. Having a warrior like personality when needed with out questing. Very beautifully to the opposite sex. Phermons when used in the right setting can be advantage.
---Likes: Plants and Animals those true to their words
---Dislikes: Slavers, those that wanted to rule others because of there race.
---Habits: Running her hair through her hair, and putting hands on her hips.





Appearance
---Skin Color: Dark pink
---Hair Color: Purple
---Eye Color: Pink
---Clothing: A light weight, AAK scale armor, that is a rusty color. When it calls for it, she where a light weight two piece that shows off her tattoos on her stomach and back. that is a sun.
---Other Attributes: Her body that she keeps well in shape. Very quick to think to get out of tight situations. Having her phermons to also be able to use when need to be.
---Other Details: Keeps her hair pulled back in a long akk claw clip. Her knowing who kind of scum could be out there on her runs found her a one of his loyal workers to go with her. In the few years they been running together he has let her lend the way but at the same time keep his watchful eye on her sometime with out her knowing. In way there is more to this one that her father has put as her protector just what only time will tell. Most time she is seen with one of two of her pets either her Vine cat-Tywa or her AKK dog-Heta.

Armor:

Weapons: Hold out blaster at her hip, with two akk tooth handle knifes that have have explosives in handle that can be active by a push of a button or with a remote control on her personal date pad that she carries on a utility belt. In her hair is long claw clip that is from tooth of AKK dogs. that is lightsaber that was her mothers.

Starship
DeepWater-class light freighter Tsel (hebrew for shadow)
Production information
Manufacturer Mon Calamari Shipyards
Model DeepWater-class light freighter
Class Light freighter
Technical specifications
Length 45 meters
Maximum speed (atmosphere) 2000 km/h
Hyperdrive rating Class 1.0
Backup Class 15
Shielding Equipped, military grade with backup shield generator
Navigation system Equipped
Armament Dual laser cannon turret (1)
Crew 2
Minimum crew 1
Passengers 6
Cargo capacity 85 metric tons
Consumables 2 months
---Interior Description: Having a training room for her to keep fit in, there is many types of plants. In her room is a full spa set up along with many more plants and AKK Armors. In the cargo bay one part she made a place for Heta her AKK pup. In it she has also through out the ship have hidden compartments.
---Other Details: Modified hyper-dive and sub light so that it makes a faster get way. Along with at one point adding military grade shielding.

BTL-s3 Y-wing starfighter name: Shamar (hebrew shall preserve)
Length 16 meters
Width 7.9 meters
Maximum speed 1000 km/h
Hyperdrive rating Class 1.0
Shieldings Chempat shieldings
Crew: 1 pilot
Astromech droid

The Force
---Sensitivity:Low

Biography
---Personal History: Growing up in place in the outer rim, on a jungle planet that had little to no outsider keep her issolated but for her father that would be gone months at a time, only to come back to tell her spacer stories of different a far way places. That what they was to her only places to dream about as her mother had her already learning to take her place some day among the people that had taken her in after her people as the story goes was kill by some very dark people. Among these jungle natives she became a great skilled warrior and hunter. Having the tattoos to show for each phase in her training.

Her turning point was when giving a chance to see the outside galaxy with her father after her 13th birthday little did she knew that one day she be a part of this world.

It wasn't until after the death of her mother that her father took to showing the world which he works in bring her up as smuggler even then she had her own code when it came to talking on jobs that her father would give her. It after would be those roots that her mother planted in her her love of her people that adaptive her to there life in the jungle.



---Military History: None

---Traumatic Experiences: Loosing two of her best friends on a AKK hunt when 10 years old to step into the right as a warrior hunter. Mother being found torn by a wild beast. She with out scars from hunting of wild beast of the jungle world.

 

IC: Agent Mitch Nifesta (SGIS npc), Baille Hart, the Darth Unlucky Consular-class cruiser
Location: Tierfon system


Mitch felt the death throes of Alderaan’s population, billions of people and lifeforms, soon after his craft reverted within the Tierfon system.

He didn’t what the Feth had occurred, but it felt very, very bad. First chance he got, he would call headquarters, ask if they knew anything.

Mitch was pleased that the shock through the Force had not knocked him unconscious, not like last time when one had hit whilst he had been going to Coruscant to put a torp through Prince Xisor’s skyhook, and the kids – Fen and Irisa - had had to land the ship themselves.

Why did these things have to happen during times of high drama. Not that one had a chance of happening while he was sunning himself on a deck chair. He could not remember ever doing that, and didn’t see himself starting till the day after Palpatine accepted his invitation to wave the chequered flag at the end of the Boonta Eve pod race.

“Palpie Jam.”

“What was that?”

Startled by Baille’s voice over the comlink, Mitch cringed as he responded. “Sorry, I was thinking happy thoughts. Did not mean to transmit them.” He looked ahead, where a coin-sized grey orb was steadily growing larger as their two vessels headed towards it at sublight. “Cut for the planet when you are ready.”

“Copy.”

Mitch checked the settings on his long-range sensors, to make sure they were set to maximum, since if there was a blockade here, it wasn’t the most populous fleet he had ever encountered.

He wasn’t reading anything yet.

“Cut your speed so that I pull ahead, and prep an hyperspace escape vector in case this goes blum-shaped.”

“Copy.”

“And so you are clear, you are no longer a lieutenant in the Navy. You are a Probationary Agent in SGIS.”

“C’Boath on a bike; are you always this talkative on the way to a combat zone? What if someone is listening?”

The sensors whistled, the twi’lek turnig his chair fully that way, and leaning forwards to check the readings – they were only picking up one ship, which from the dimensions looked corvette sized.

The system ran an automated telesponder check, identifying the Imperial vessel as a Broadside-class cruiser.

“Attention, this is the Imperial Star Destroyer Ramification. You are entering restricted space. Turn around immediately, otherwise, you will be fired upon.”

Mitch’s eyes widened at the unexpected transmission, and ran an FST Full Spectrum Tranceiver scan, which didn’t show any sign of an ImpStar, which meant that it was cloaked, painted black (though that wouldn’t fool amoeba on Mimban, let alone a sophisticated FST sweep), or the captain of the corvette must be compensating for something.

"I'm not reading any-"

Nifesta jumped out of his seat at an electronic scream from the control panel, and was two steps from the station when his wing-person’s voice called over the comlink.

“Break break break, we have four torps inbound.”

Clever. Clever. Distract them with the ISD warning, then open fire first.

Sensors were reading two torpedoes coming towards the Unlucky, while two more speared after Hart’s V-Wing, which he could see out the right port was coming out of a multiple clock-wise barrel roll and diving towards the planet Flitter.

The twi’lek took a breath and exhaled slowly to calm himself, then brought his own weapons online, lights on his board glimmering as two Taim & Bak KT6 heavy blaster cannon rolled out from concealment on either side of the command pod.

He targeted the first of the projectiles going after his new recruit, and stitched green energy bursts into it.

No effect.

“What?!” Mitch’s blood ran cold at what his scanners revealed about the missiles going after Hart’s fighter. “Shielded? Who in Flamewind shields their torpedoes?” He asked himself rhetorically, then gesturing out the window at the two-pronged Imperial cruiser, continued, “Well, you do, obviously.”

The two oncoming missiles were closing fast, and Mitch, hoping they were programmed to detonate on contact rather than at range, jinked his vessel to the starboard to have them tear past his ship on the port side.

An index finger stabbed at the heavy weapons Fire button, allowing him to return fire on the capital ship with two EF-5000 “Extreme Frag” concussion missiles of his own, the parallel twin trails of golden light spearing down to the Ramification.

He did not wait to find out if the Imperial torpedoes were making a bid for freedom, or turning to track him, instead banking the SGIS vessel hard to starboard, in pursuit of the V-Wing and her pursuing missiles.

That femme was his responsibility. Although a card-carrying Imperial when he had found her, once she had donned the scarlet outfit, for him, it was the equivalent of taking the "King's Shilling" in an obscure Pre-Expansionist era nation.

He didn't know if she gave her action as much weight as he did, but he would hold up his end of the deal.

****

Baille, for her part, quickly had white vapour scudding across her canopy, trailing rivers of clear moisture, as she dove into the planet’s cloud cover, which she could feel slowing her down, which was probably not going to be good news if she could not shake those missiles.

Had the twi’lek abandoned her to a fiery fate? He certainly hadn’t made any attempt to take them out. She shook her head, annoyed at her behaviour.

“I must have been on the happy juice to go along with this. I should have just run for it.”
Her next move did not feel like a good idea inside a planet’s atmosphere, but with gritted teeth, she did it anyway, folding in her rear s-foils to present less drag, and turned up the engine, dropping like a bullet towards the countryside far below.

Tag: no-one

 

IC: Trenton Redwing

The sound of the TIE fighters had me halfway back up the ramp before the humans running from the interior of the station caught up with me. Not running away in fear, of course not. But years on the Woltar/Skadi border had taught me that when faced with superior firepower, bring out your own superior firepower. This was a tactical retreat. I heard something about money being offered, but in all honesty, once those cannons opened up on the platform all I really cared about was getting out of there.

Less than five minutes found me out of atmo and flying in forward formation position. “Freelance flight one-one-seven-five-seven, have you accepted the offer? If so, I welcome you to a longer contract if you can prove your skills. You have five TIE Fighters to clean off of our exit path, baring point two, two, point eight-dash-five Echo. Watch your fire on civilians. Do you copy?” Well. I certainly wasn't going to before, tangling with the Empire wasn't exactly something anyone from the Cluster wanted to do. But now that every Imp in-system knew we had been offered a job, guilty by association would have us under fire long before we managed to hit the outer hyper point. Luckily there was only the five of them. Probably just a small frigate or the like. A Imp Star could field far more fighters and the Empire wasn't really one to go for underkill.


“Pentacles, Sigma. Taking the lead.” I accelerated beyond the bomber to settle into lead position. And if there was an Imp Star around here, those frakkers were on their own. “Targeting fighter Alpha-two. Going loud.” Fire spit in dual streams from the tips of either wing to race towards the TIE formation.

TAG: Bravo, GenOochy

 

OOC/OOG

((Done with clinicals for nursing, now to catch up with posts.))

 

IC: Chief Medical Officer Russel Cook
Hanger Bay, Actualize Station, Northern Stretch (Kingdom of Jod)


Cook couldn't help but agree with Havah. The Arkanian made all the logical sense in the galaxy; but maybe, "logical" sense was what was the problem with the galaxy. The Empire wanted order through logical means: first, by providing an authoritative body to govern the galaxy through strict laws to bring order to chaos. Second, those laws were supported by a strong military presence to carry out the laws' intentions. Third, the galaxy would, in turn conform to the new order and the galaxy would be a safer, better place. But, idealists of this system of government forgot three main things; first, power corrupts, second people can make their own choices, and third, freedom beats louder and harder the more you try to restrain it, turning yesterday's citizens into tomorrow's freedom fighters. The Empire had a "logical" approach to run the galaxy and, Cook reasoned if not for Emperor Palpatine and Darth Vader, it would of been somewhat of a fair system of government to live under. But, the Emperor was the one at the top corrupt with power and that urge for power had trickled down to every level of Imperial government.

Maybe the "illogical" sense was what was needed to fix the galaxy's problems. Havah's last statement threw the question back at the Doctor.

"I trust him as far as i can throw him on the. . .Dune Sea. Why do you ask?"

Cook pressed his lips, trying to find a "correct" answer, but he knew there was none. "Taller wouldn't have put him in command without a good reason. But...his age does worry me. As does his traumatic experience after the Block and his inexperience as a command-level officer. But..." Cook shook his head, "Maybe we're trying to view Lasso in a logical sense. Logically, Havah, your right, one hundred percent right. But, if great opportunities in life are only taken by those with the illogical sense to do something against the normal---to do something rash, but get everyone home in one piece---then maybe Captain Lasso is the ticket. But, only time will tell. The question is, however, how much time do we have left for the tale to tell the story? And will it be too late by the time the story is told?"


TAG Mitth_Fisto

 

IC: Havah Jeth
Actualize Station, Hanger Med-Bay

Raising an eyebrow he stared at the doctor for a moment, "If you want me more illogical I have a suggestion you won't like. But we are about to be interrupted so let me just state: We cannot know, and because of your dislike of granting me an audience with the Jod I will not be able to settle a score, something I take seriously when sober."

At that the view of the heat signature his eyes and armor saw moving through the flimsy ad-hoc medical center came within gauged hearing range, he raised a hand to forestall the doctor replying as the figure came and finally moved around the barrier to be revealed as one of the pilots, specifically one that had delusions of grandeur that Lasso was encouraging. Another reason to reserve his trust of the memory boggled man beyond his own envy. As for the pilot she was brash and her question indicated him as if he was not present nor aware, if she was this rude to a living sentient organism he felt strong pity for her astromech and any pilots she would lead into battles past or yet to come.

TAG: Bravo, JediFalcon

 

IC: Zieleb-Xan ‘Mac’ Macja
Space outside of the Delicate Delinquent



As the forward hatch slowly crept open Mac could not believe it, he had actually come up with an plan and it worked. He was starting to, in his own mind, shape up to an actual field commander, that was until the hatch completed it’s opening sequence.

“What the frak am I doing, Navi? I’m not a diplomat, heck I’m barely even a pilot. I should have just suggested that I stayed in one of the turrets.”

In order to see what he was getting himself into better he toggled on his forward running lights and found the majority of the hold was dominated by concealed cargo. Yet another reminder that he has absolutely no idea what he was getting himself into. But having to deal with the unknowns was the least of his concerns once he realized a critical part to this whole operation.

“Navi, make sure that you maintain an open line of communication with either Yav or Jim, both would be preferable. If their comms are out, like they say they are, I will be relying on you to relay messages back to them.”

Once he had maneuvered into the bay he found that his docking choices were limited. He knew, like most starcrafts, that the Arrow of Light was equipped with magnetic landing claws. So, if need be, he could attach himself to any metallic surface of the ship. His first thought was to link into one of the walls, but then the jokester side of him came out.

“Navi, make sure you are locked into your socket tight, we’re going for a ride.”

The wonderful thing about flying through space was that directions, like up and down, were all relative, at least until you entered another vessel. So to Mac, when he rotated his vessel 180 degrees around the horizontal plane, he was still right-side up. However, to the deckhand in the hanger he was flying upside down. He glided slowly into the hanger and “landed” his fighter on the ceiling. Once the hatch was sealed and his indicators read that it was safe to do so, Mac opened his canopy, released his harness, and dropped to the deck below. With his natural balance and a little help from the Force, he landed nimbly on his feet like a Katarn pouncing on its prey.

“I’m Lieutenant Mac, what can we assist you with?”

TAG: Bravo Sith-I-5