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

Discussion in 'Role Playing Forum' started by Bravo, Jun 11, 2009.

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  1. Mitth_Fisto

    Mitth_Fisto Jedi Grand Master star 6

    Sep 29, 2005
    IC: Havah Jeth
    Flying in a death machine, 'Crusader'

    Having boarded the Crusader Havah had gone to the bridge and nodded at the helmeted pilot. Mando, whoever that was should be plenty competent then. Then he headed straight to his post in a gun well and relaxed. Pic had brought him his supplies during the hyperspace jump that he would need to prepare, and for that he was grateful, well except for the reheated nerf ration which had a decidedly large chance of actually being some substitute meat flavored like nerf. Well that was more of his hope, he wasn't exactly sure it had ever been meat to begin with. Still it was one of his rationed dietary supplements from the doctor, so he ate it in silence.

    Opening his disguise kit that Pic had also brought him he let the hair changing slug do it's work as he applied the contacts, by then the jump was done and they were on their way to the shadow port of Skip One. After a few minutes of a harrowing adventure through the asteroids and a couple near calls he quickly began a conversation with Pic on what choice words he could choose from a Mando'ade from Basic dictionary.

    After arriving in their indicated birthe the ship came to a rest and a figure was seen to come in and wait at the entrance. Despite being a shadow port some things never changed, such as needing to pay for a birthe, fuel, and extra if you didn't want it to be public knowledge who and what you were. With a sigh he pulled himself up and headed to the ships ramp. "Somebody better have the creds to cover this, because that was not included in my mission pay. Di'kut?" He asked as he looked toward the approaching Mando. His hair now a solid black and his eyes now appeared that one was mechanical and the other a normal human eye. The false mechanical image spun slighty whenever he shifted his gaze like an apperature adjustment. Overall one of better if simple disguises.

    TAG: Bardan_Jusik, others aboard the freighter
  2. Whitelight

    Whitelight Jedi Master star 4

    Aug 10, 2007
    IC: Maya Whitelight
    Heaven Den Casino

    Having to blink a few times did she just heard this mono-wheeled, flat topped waitress. Being around many space ports even a couple of times on a few hot spots where mandolarians would gather. Some of them had been her father best paying clients. Sending her on most of those mission not knowing if it was her dressing that had some wanting her as the hire smuggler of her father many employers working for him. Or if it was what she had inside all the cool toy she had to train with even some that would push her with out the aid of the force. Knowing this was a very simple phrase, but her mando was still very limited. Taking a long pause before she answers in basic just hopping it spoke it. Making note to ask her Uncle Jordan that was the owner/manger of the place about this little surprise. "I would like another Zeltron spice wine, when my tag a long gets back, he like another Spice Rum Milk." waiting to see if this one understood her order. Only to now with her sharp eyes took in the Mythosaur symbol that was on this driod.

    "I see that your catering to all kind of spacers these days." all Jordan could do was give a chuckle. Only to be brought to the front of the place close by the door. Getting up giving Maya a nod that he would be back.

    Tag: Sith-I-5
  3. Falcon

    Falcon Chosen One star 10

    Feb 7, 2002
    IC: Fress Colias
    Smugglers Run, Skip One

    Fress followed the Crusader into the asteroid field as she prayed to who ever might be listening that nothing happened to her or the others. After a few near misses from a couple of hidden asteroids they arrived at Skip One without incident. She released the breath she was holding as she shut down the engines. “Saber, stay with the fighter and make sure no one gets any bright ideas.”

    Saber warbled in agreement as she took the helmet off and placed it by her feet. She opened the cockpit and climbed out as she noticed someone watching her with interest. She stretched out the Force knocking something over causing the person to turn in the direction of the noise. She grinned, a trick she never stopped using even after order 66. She climbed down the ladder and opened the compartment grabbing the hazard cones placing them around the fighter which caused others in the area to begin walking away from the fighter.

    Fress grabbed her data pad and a few ads to put up in the Cantina’s to see who would take interest. She walked over to the Crusader as she heard Havah make a remark about who was to pay the man at the landing area. She walked up to the man and slipped him a credit worth a hundred. “You never saw us.”

    The man grinned as he greedily accepted the credits as Fress walked up the ramp. “Havah, relax I paid the man off. Streets, I need you to help Atin with security background checks. Havah you and I are going to do the interviews. Kasumi is going to help watch for any trouble that might start brewing. Let’s get this over with.”

    IC: Seria Trasks
    Smugglers Run, Skip One
    Heaven Den Casino

    Seira looked down at the small bag of credits and nodded in approval. This should last her until she gets her next job. “Nice doing business with you. If you need my services again, you know how to reach me.”

    Her contact walked away as she headed towards the bar and ordered a drink. “Hey doll, the usual.”

    “Coming right up,” the bar tender said as Seria flicked him the right size credit and pocketed the rest inside her jacket so no one could pick her pocket. He walked back to her and placed the drink on the counter. “How did it go?”

    “The usual, avoid authorities and deliver the goods,” Seira answered without going into detail about what the goods were. About five million worth of Spice from Kessel, “Any word on anyone else needing services?” She questioned as she swirled the contents of her drink inside the glass before taking a sip.

    “No,” the bar tender answered as he placed a cloth on the table and started wiping. “I’m sure something will come up. Something always does for you, almost like someone is watching out for you.”

    “I’ll even take steady work off a mercenary ship if that means I don’t have to keep coming back to this dump,” Seira commented with a frown as she placed her drink down.

    “I saw Maya earlier,” the bar tender pointed to where she was sitting. “Why don’t you ask her if her father needs any work done. She was talking with someone a few minutes ago.”

    Seira frowned as she downed the rest of her drink. Her father payed well, maybe it was time to see if he had more work or not. She put the glass down and stood up. “Not a bad idea.”

    Seira walked to the table where Maya was sitting and gave a tight smile. “Is this seat taken?”

    Mitth_Fisto, Bardan_Jusik, Whitelight, Coffee_Ninja, anyone else I missed
  4. Whitelight

    Whitelight Jedi Master star 4

    Aug 10, 2007
    IC: Maya Whitelight
    Smugglers Run, Skip One
    Heaven Den Casino

    Seira walked to the table where Maya was sitting and gave a tight smile. “Is this seat taken?” Maya's had been in a kind of meditive state, more into a state of her listening into other talks. It was in these that one could learn many things. Like the Lizards over in the far side had pick up on her pheromones was debating if they should take her, to sale to slavers. Which she just had to inwards give a hard chuckle to. Letting her eyes flutters open to the voice asking to take a seat. Knowing that her voice recognized. After fully opening her eyes there was Seira, standing in front of her as if there was nothing better to do. More likely seeing her in this place could mean a few things she was on her way some where it gotten to hot out there needing to lay low for a while. To those Torgias that they had a run in were hot after her little sweet and innconet hinney. Or she was just looking for a job opportunity again for the right price. Or then there could be a many other possablities only time for tell. "Seira, I didn't think I would run into again, I see that your still up right, kicking which is always good sign.", Waving her to have a seat, only to have to way as she knew that there was time for her to ask what she had been up to since there last run they did together which be a while back. In a way she was glad to see that Seira still had her head on her shoulder, she did have a good skills for smuggler. "Just to give you a heads up, I do have me some extra bagged these days thanks to that one time in place that one time at ....well you know what I'm talking about." Giving a long hard chuckle about the whole situations the two of them gotten themselves into but what did it matter how it went down they both in the end came up as pretty as monkey lizards. Giving herself time to reach across for a short embrace, of being glad to see her again. In the back of her mind was things what reason that brought her to this place had once again the force had hand in bring there fate together again.

  5. Bravo

    Bravo Jedi Grand Master star 6

    Sep 10, 2001
    IC: Jim Palso
    Cockpit, Hunk of Junk, forward of the Delicate Delinquent's bow

    As the Hunk of Junk floated around the rear of the mysterious craft, he kept up on the comm traffic. It seemed that Xan had made contact and considering Palso hadn't heard any blaster fire over the open comm, everything went well so far.

    Lasso brought up his own ship's database and did a search on 'Secret Galactic Intelligence Service'. The information was sparse, mostly "suggested" sightings and very few "hard facts" of the SGIS still being around.

    "Interesting..." Palso said under his breath, considering Yav seemed to have a connect to the SGIS.

    TAG Sith-I-5 and CPL_Macja
  6. Falcon

    Falcon Chosen One star 10

    Feb 7, 2002
    IC: Seira Trasks
    Smugglers Run, Skip One

    "Just to give you a heads up, I do have me some extra bagged these days thanks to that one time in place that one time at ....well you know what I'm talking about."

    Seria chuckled lightly as she remembered nearly getting caught by the Imperials because Maya’s dog decided to get under foot and chew threw some of the wires on their ship causing the engines to fail. They were stuck in the middle of no where for three days. By the time they had the engines up and running, the Imperials had caught up with them. “Yeah, any chance did you find the dog a new home? He nearly cost us the contract.”

  7. Whitelight

    Whitelight Jedi Master star 4

    Aug 10, 2007
    IC: Maya Whitelight
    Smuggler Run, Skip One
    Heaven Den Casino

    Yeah, any chance did you find the dog a new home? He nearly cost us the contract.”

    Having to give away a little chuckle herself, remember that Hunter was just a very young pup, her skills in animal friendship wasn't as developmental as it was now, will a lot of her skill wasn't advance. It was suppose to be a easy run in and out. "Well, it wasn't a trip I like to dell on, I like to think of it as a learn trip, make sure there lots of puppy bantha chow, on board to feed a growing Akk dog." Wondering just what was taking the the mandolarian speaking droid that had taken her drink order. Speaking, do you want something to drink, its on me, or should I say a family friend." pointing to where Jordan seem to be taking care of some business not doubt it had to do something about one of the race that was being shown on one of the many hologram TV didn't go there way no doubt they lost of money. So what you been doing since then, girl.
    Tag: JediFalcon Sith-I-5 (where my blasted drink at ;)
  8. Sith-I-5

    Sith-I-5 Force Ghost star 6

    Aug 14, 2002
    IC: Kalka'tech the Wookiee, Rachael Williams, Agent Sounil Mistry, Captain Yavscout, crew quarters and the command tower, Delicate Delinquent interdictor cruiser
    Location: Berroll's Donn star system

    Kalka'tech the Wookiee laid back contentedly on his new bed, the white sheet coming up to his chest while a barely-dressed Raechal knelt astride him, smiling patiently as he held his comlink in one paw, carefully dialling his brother's comm-code.

    After a few seconds, they could hear Talka'pa over the miniature speaker.

    Kalka'tech told his bro' to hang on a sec', and held the comlink up to Raechal.


    "You want me to say it again?"


    The young engineer put her hands up to the sides of her face in a gesture of shocked awe, "My Gods, that's not a ****, that's a space station!"

    Chuffing with laughter, Kalka'tech took the comlink back, and ruffed a query to Talka'pa, who responded in Shyriiwook that, yes, he got it, and that he was a luck *******.

    * * * *
    Command Tower lobby

    Sounil stepped out of the turbo lift to be greeted by the spacious white of the lobby area which was a sharp contrast to the utilitarian greys of the rest of the Imperial warship that she had seen so far.

    It would not look out of place on Bespin Cloud City, she decided, going by the travelogues she had seen of the place.

    The ceiling was cathedral high, and their was a spiral effect caused by the rising walkway going round the atrium.

    The twi'lek female held a cardboard holder for six sealed cups of hot beverages, since she decided to make a good impression on meeting the people up there.

    She turned her gaze to the right, looking round and back to the turbolift doors, slowly closing, and jumped at the flash of colour standing between her lift and the next one along.

    The Kings Army soldier, red and blues a contrast to the white environment, nodded a greeting at her. "Private Shoemaker, Miss." He introduced himself, politely.

    "Agent Sounil Mistry." She stepped closer to the soldier, picked a cup out of the holder and handed it across.

    Shoemaker lifted the lid, releasing the smell of hot coffeine. "Ah, that smells like the good stuff. Thank you." He blew noisily on the hot liquid.

    "No problem. Been here long, I mean, standing there?"

    SHoemaker shrugged, taking a tentative sip. "Mmm. Few hours, but I have stood guard longer during Beast campaigns, so this is not a problem."

    "Want me to remind the bridge people that you are down here on guard, and will need replacing sometime soon?"

    "You can do." He nodded gratefully, "And thanks for the drink. Hope you still have enough for the people up there." He gently elbowed a coloured switch on the wall next to him to call the next turbolift.

    "Wouldn't it have been more efficient for my lift to straight up to the bridge?"

    "Oh, it can. Security reset it this way so that whoever is stationed here can vet who goes up there. You best get going, lest the rest of those drinks go cold."

    "Alright. See you later, Private Shoemaker." Sounil stepped into the second lift and travelled up in silence, and some trepidation, till she was able to step out into the wide grey corridor which one end she could see the white of the atrium's upper levels, and in the other direction, through open blast doors, a relatively dimmer area, and the starfield outside beyond that chamber.

    She started that way, her step faltering slightly as she noted the state of the deck, and the temporary walkway across the centre of the hole.

    "Flavin, start calculating a hyperspace jump to Port Haven, please."

    "On it." The nearest person to her, his back to her, responded.

    "S-Sounil Mistry, reporting." She felt like a junior investigator again, rather than a mature twi'lek, old enough to be the mother of most of the people on the ship.

    Then she found herself staring at the skinny crewmember in the grey coveralls, and noting him staring back, realised the recognition was mutual.

    So long ago. So long ago.

    The elf pointed to a bit of the wall to her left. "My Ready Room. Please wait for me in there."

    She nodded, put the drinks holder down beside Flavin, and disappeared through the doors.

    Tag: Palso, Mac
  9. Falcon

    Falcon Chosen One star 10

    Feb 7, 2002
    IC: Seira Trasks
    Skip One Smugglers Run

    “Speaking, do you want something to drink, its on me, or should I say a family friend." pointing to where Jordan seem to be taking care of some business not doubt it had to do something about one of the race that was being shown on one of the many hologram TV didn't go there way no doubt they lost of money. So what you been doing since then, girl.”

    Seira smiled as she nodded to the bar tender then turned her attention back to Maya. “Just got back from a run actually, I’m laying low until the heat dies down,” she answered carefully. Maybe asking suddenly didn’t seem like a good idea. It was a gut feeling. “What about you? What are you up to these days?”

  10. CPL_Macja

    CPL_Macja Jedi Grand Master star 5

    Nov 29, 2008
    IC: Zieleb-Xan ‘Mac’ Macja
    Space outside of the Delicate Delinquent

    Ten, from Bridge. I certainly called them, and appraised them of our situation, but I did not order any spare parts. I called them for help in tracking the Johnny Boy.

    Suddenly his mind started filling with endless possibilities: were they really SGIS or did they intercept Yav’s transmission and are posing as SGIS, do they really have a Golan Arms quad that needed installing under the tarp or was already operational and just waiting to take them by surprise. He knew he could take down the crewmember standing in front of him, but would he be able to take out the entire crew before they got him. His hand had reached his bow and was about to pluck it off his back when his comms chirped to life once more.

    Ten. Consider them allies.

    Gees Cap, you could have lead off with that, Mac thought to himself.

    Ten, this is Bridge. Advise them that we are withdrawing to Port Haven in the Whendyll System to effect the repairs, and if they can come with us, that would be great. Then withdraw your group back to the Delinquent. Or, if you want, you can stay aboard the – Or , if you prefer, you can stay aboard the Mako as our representative. How copy?

    That’s a good copy. I’ll pass along your regards and will be back momentarily. Ten out.” Mac brought his empty left hand back around to his right wrist and turned his comms back off. “Well, Engineer Luten, looks like we’re going on a little trip. The Captain says that we are going to withdraw back to Port Haven to fix up our new ride. Perhaps we can get your comms up and running there as well. So if you would kindly tell your Captain to head for the Whendyll System we can all share a drink at the local watering hole.

    As Mac passed the message along he walked over to just under the open cockpit of the Arrow of Light. Once he had reached the end of his spiel he turned to face the tail of the fighter, sprung up into the air, and grabbed on to the dangling straps of shoulder harness. Using all the muscles in his body, he curled his legs up into position, and used Telekinesis to buckle the two hip straps to the crotch strap. This secured him enough for him to lock in the two shoulder harnesses manually.

    Once the hanger door had opened once more, Mac disengaged the magnetic clamps, and used his reverse repulsors to back out of the hanger. As his nose cleared the edge of the hanger, he pointed it “up” and looped away from the shuttle. He opened up his comms to his small group, “Alright kids lets head back to the DD.”

    TAG: Bravo Sith-I-5
  11. Bravo

    Bravo Jedi Grand Master star 6

    Sep 10, 2001
    IC: Jim Palso
    Cockpit, Hunk of Junk, forward of the Delicate Delinquent's bow

    Alright kids lets head back to the DD.”

    "Solid copy, Ten," Palso said, redirecting the Hunk of Junk's route of travel, "We'll bring up the rear."

    TAG Sith-I-5 and CPL_Macja
  12. Intervention

    Intervention Jedi Knight star 2

    Oct 1, 2012
    IC: Sergeant Major Patrick O'Keith
    Beast Home World, Operation Big Drop, Kingdom of Jod

    They had navigated from the Northern Stretch to the Planet of Jod, through patrols of once comrades now turned turncoat Confederacy of Regions soldiers. But the uniforms of those turncoats and those force loyal to the Royal House had stayed mostly the same, making their return seem that much more "harmless". And their story, with Patrick O'Keith's rank of Sergeant Major and naturally born skills to make a model Sergeant Major for any army in the galaxy being a big help to turn any doubters of their not so true story aside, was believable. For O'Keith and his comrades, the story that they had told Captain Timothy Stakes was still true: if their fellow soldiers were going to drop on a Beast nest, O'Keith and his men would be there too. It was called brotherhood and turncoats or not...every Jod soldier hated a Beast. And the other reason why they were here, to recruit for the Royal House and find out what the rank and file soldier felt about this new COR was also true.

    But, for now, everything else was out of his mind but survival.


    O'Keith had seen his fair share of **** in his time as a King's Army Soldier. But this was either a brilliant master plan and O'Keith didn't see the 'brilliant' part of the plan or someone with general bars on their shoulder made a horrible mistake. O'Keith was leaning towards the latter. Everything had gone text book at first. The orbital bombardment had gone text book; the fleet moved in, bombed the place to hell, and then landed artillery who made double sure that any Beast made or natural made fortifications were reduced to not just debris, but dust particles. Then, and only then, did the infantry move in. The Beast dead on the planet surface gave hope for the invading Jod forces. Only problem was, orbital bombardments usually couldn't crack a planet's surface deep enough to take out hardened underground bunkers hidden miles under the planet's surface, unless someone wanted to do a Base Delta Zero. For whatever reason, Jod High Command thought it was a brilliant idea to capture and hold the planet for research purposes. Which, O'Keith reasoned, was a good idea...if the orbital bombardments and military intelligence had included those hardened underground bunkers. Which, it seemed, they hadn't. Within a hour of the first Corps putting boots on the ground, it was a general retreat. Problem was, no one knew where to. The orbital fleet was under attack from ground-based cannons that came out from the ground---as were any landing craft attempting to take off or land on the planet---and wherever a soldier stepped, there seemed to be a new hole opening up in the ground with a horde of Beasts climbing out of it. The 7 Corps that had made planet fall---with their artillery support---found themselves broken up on different islands of held ground, with a sea of Beasts soldiers swirling around each island like the currents of a ocean.

    Bigger problem was the fact that it was dark outside. While night operations were perfectly sensible if you had the upper hand---and the technology to back it---fleet's comms were being filled with static from the planetary batteries firing up at them and their sensors' officers couldn't relay the proper enemy positions to field commanders down on the ground. O'Keith was just finishing reloading his blaster rifle---perfect drill timing: 3 shots a minute---aimed and discharged his rifle into the seemingly endless mass of Beasts clamoring just feet ahead of the front line. All around him, in the darkness of night, flashes of blaster barrels gave brief fiery light to the night sky---giving imagine to King's Army Soldier and Beast fighting---followed by the grunts and yells of Beasts and battle cries and screams of King's Army Soldiers. Fiery balls of cannon fire shot across the sky overhead, desperately trying to hold the Beasts back further.

    End Music


    Several hours later, that morning

    O'Keith pushed the corpse of the dead soldier off of him; he wasn't ashamed of it, it was the only way to survive the night. Fleet had tried a rescue and even attempted to land several Light-class Destroyers, Strike-class Corvettes, and even 2 King-class Battleships...but they all met with either minimal success at assisting with recovering soldiers or had been completely overrun by Beast forces on the ground. As the night went on, the Fleet saw that every time they attempted a rescue, they lost more ships and more lives. The battered Fleet pulled out to the edge of the star system and waited for another plan of action.

    For O'Keith, he got up, looking around at the night's bloodshed results around him...

    OOG: Running into computer problems, have to do some fixing of the computer. Sorry post was cut short.
  13. Bardan_Jusik

    Bardan_Jusik Mand'alor - Manager of EUC, SWC and Anthology/BtS star 10 Staff Member Manager

    Dec 14, 2009
    IC: Atin Taab
    Skip 1, Smugglers Run.

    Atin was taken aback by Jeth's changed appearance and use of his own adopted language. He could feel his blood start to rise at the insult. His father would have let such slander roll off his back, but he still had trouble doing so. "Copaani mirshmure'cye, chakaar (You looking for a smack in the face, corpse robber)?" He replied to Jeth as Colias paid off the dockworker.

    “Havah, relax I paid the man off. Streets, I need you to help Atin with security background checks. Havah you and I are going to do the interviews. Kasumi is going to help watch for any trouble that might start brewing. Let’s get this over with.”

    Background checks? Atin frowned behind his T-Visor. That didn't sound exciting at all. He had never been to the Smuggler's Run before, and he was hoping for a bit of fun. But being assigned to backgroud checks with the Chiss (who Atin really hadn't gotten to know yet) didn't sound thrilling at all. Still he knew enough to know that it wouldn't be acceptable to question orders on his first mission. He nodded his head and answered "As you wish," an old standard amongst Mandalorian bounty hunters according to his father.

    The group was all gathered on the landing area now so Atin remotly closed and locked up the Crusader from his buy'ce, setting the anti-theft systems to maximum intensity. Whether he loved him or not, he knew his father would kill him if he let anything happen to the old ship. That done he waited to see what, if any, adventure awaited them in the depths of Skip 1.

    TAG: Mitth_Fisto, JediFalcon, Coffee_Ninja

    [hr] [/hr]

    IC: Beskaryc Taab
    Luck's Gamble

    Taab was relieved to see that "two Thumbs" didn't have time to blast the Captain before the powerful sedative knocked him out. He let the man hit the deck, hard, rather then move to catch him. "Two Thumbs" deserved to feel it after he awoke for his attempted treachery. He slapped a pair of Mandalorian Manacles on him before dragging his inert form back to the rear of the ship where he then used another set to chain him to the interior of the hull. Looking around the bay he noted that all the new crew members had made it aboard. Good, time to put them to work. Grabbing Al'kesh's arm, he simpy said "Keep and eye on him. If he escapes, it's on you." The Devaronian nodded sagely, his hand now resting on his own blaster. Taab then took the briefcase and moved back forward to the cockpit.

    He entered just in time to hear a message come in over the comm system. "Unidentified starfighters flying on a intercept course for the Sentinel-class landing craft. You have forty seconds to regress your course back to Bespin. Comply immediately or be destroyed." Taab glanced down at the display. There were indeed a group of fighters now closing on them, but between their new fighter escort and the destroyer out there, the Luck's Gamble was well protected. Instead of worrying about that he looked over the case carefully. There was a rudimentray security system, the handle seemed to be linked to the elemnts of some stun cuffs. If anyone tried opening the case with the wrong passcode they would get a nasty shock.

    Taab was no slicer, though he had picked his fair share of locks in the past. Further examination showed no other security measures, so Taab took the straightforward approach. He tore the handle off of the case. An arc of electricity sparked for a moment, playing across Taab's beskar'gam, but it was disipated by his armor and the power liner he wore underneath. As soon as he pulled the handle away from its power soure the sparking ended and the case was opened.

    Taab cocked his head to one side, examining it's contents for a moment before turning it around so that the Capatin could see. "Hey Skipper, take a look at this."

    TAG: Bravo, GenOochy, KraytDragon90

  14. Sith-I-5

    Sith-I-5 Force Ghost star 6

    Aug 14, 2002
    IC: Bree, Toseland, Rossi (A.R.S. nrcs), Z-95 and Dagger-class pursuit fighters
    Location: Bespin

    Bree took in her twi'lek's reflection in the pane of her canopy for a second, then looked down at her scope for a read on whether her borrowed Dagger-class starfighter, with its triad of hooked hardpoints clustered clawlike round the front of the cramped cockpit, was gaining on the two fleeing starfighters and their Sentinel shuttle at all.


    The melody coincided with a fourth signature being picked up on her scanners, one big baby.
    Size count had it at 450 metres in length.

    She grimaced, then flicked her throat mike to on.

    "Uh, guys? Looks like that big thing shaped like a fresher roll on a stick, is with them. We got a plan for when we catch up with them" She sent to the lead starfighter, the Z-95 that she was to the left and slightly behind off.


    She winced at the shout in her ear. "Hello."

    "What the blazes are you doing up here? You're an A.R.S.O.L.!"

    Well, yes, she was normally Anoat Revenue Service: Operations and Logistics, but Pilot Lorenzo had commed in sick, and she did have her astrogator's licence. Besides, she needed the flying hours. Bree allowed Toseland, Enforcement's chief pilot, absorb all that, then continued, "We are not going to be able to touch that cruiser, so-"

    "Unidentified starfighters flying on a intercept course for the Sentinel-class landing craft. You have forty seconds to regress your course back to Bespin. Comply immediately or be destroyed."

    "Bree, hold back and record all you can" Toseland advised her, then responded to the hail: "Unidentified capital ship. This is the Anoat Revenue Service. Those you protect have engaged in un-warranted hostilities within our jurisdiction, and departed without paying docking fees. You will stand down, or be regarded as outlaws throughout the Empire."

    Bree's Dagger slowed to a stop, while the other two continued unimpeded towards the Sentinel, unwilling to turn away till they had a response.

    She all at once realised that the response they were likely to get, would be terminal.
    She should really comply with the order, but the authorities beyond Bespin would need what she provided. Bree opened up her visual scanner and sensors to record that they could, including sending a telesponder interrogative towards all four ships.

    On her scopes, she could see the Porax-38's heading towards a different area of space. She briefly wondered what their game was, then transmitted a data package back to Cloud City.

    Tag: Light-class destroyer
  15. Sith-I-5

    Sith-I-5 Force Ghost star 6

    Aug 14, 2002
    IC: Serving Droid, Heavens' Den cantina
    Location: Skip One

    The waitress droid listened as Maya responded, "I would like another Zeltron spice wine, when my tag a long gets back, he like another Spice Rum Milk."

    It recognised that the patron had responded in Basic rather than Mandalorian, and automatically switched to the language of the customer.
    "Sure thing, Hun." Reversing on the mono-wheel, it noted a second female approaching to sit by the first, and, its sensors reading that she had imbibed in the last dew seconds, slid by her to get the first order filled.

    At the long bar enclosure at the centre of the room, it vocalised the two orders to the ssentient working there, who poured and mixed the drinks, pouring them into glasses, and placing a clean green saucer the top of the glass containing the Spice Rum Milk, to keep it fresh for the absent patron.

    The waitress returned to the table, stopping by Maya's right elbow as the second femme was explaining, "-actually, I’m laying low until the heat dies down."

    "Here you go, Hun'."

    OOC: Seira, Maya
  16. Bravo

    Bravo Jedi Grand Master star 6

    Sep 10, 2001
    IC: Eleventh Hour Captain
    Bespin, just outside of orbit, Outer Rim

    "Unidentified capital ship. This is the Anoat Revenue Service. Those you protect have engaged in un-warranted hostilities within our jurisdiction, and departed without paying docking fees. You will stand down, or be regarded as outlaws throughout the Empire."

    The communications officer looked to the Captain for a response, but the noble-born ship captain held up a hand, "No response. We gave them a chance. Sensors and Gunnery?"

    "Several fighters have broken away from the main flight," sensors reported.

    "We have a emergency scramble flight of Eta-2 Actis-class light interceptors armed and ready in the hanger to intercept enemy starfighters," interrupted hanger control on the bridge, adding, "Awaiting orders for deployment."

    "Acquiring new targeting data on new enemy flight group of Porax-38s," reported gunnery, "Awaiting orders."

    The Captain seemed to think for a long hard moment as forty seconds came and passed. Then he finally said, "Helm, bring us about to shadow the Luck's Gamble out of system. Communications, jam enemy communications back to Bespin. Shields up and weapons ready; weapons, avoid any active target lock on enemy starfighters, passive defensive weapons lock only. Scramble our intercept flight, but instruct them to fly in escort formation around us and the Luck's Gamble. I won't start the bloodshed...but I will finish it. There's no need for useless death today."

    TAG Sith-I-5
  17. GenOochy

    GenOochy Jedi Grand Master star 5

    Jan 8, 2003
    In Character: Adán Kinge, Three of Pentacles
    Orbit, Planet Bespin, Bespin System

    Reveal and Exposition

    ‘Out to black’, it was Skadi shorthand for exiting a planet’s atmosphere. Depending on the density and gravitational pull of that particular planet, the point was usually between forty and a hundred thousand meters above the planet. The haze of the atmosphere falls behind you and there is nothing but the vastness of space in view. That’s the point we were at, climbing towards a wrecked hull of a capital vessel and was apparently was our new employers. Rear-aspect scanners have a few new vessels behind us several hundred kilometers, but so far they are no factor. Throttle was about sixty percent, an economical cruising set, when the Luck’s Gamble commed back to us.

    "Three of Pentacles, you guys need to evac area immediately; you have forty seconds. Follow our egress trail. Your area is about to become a no-man's zone for those new tangos. How you copy?"

    “Copy well, punching out. We’ll be about twenty-five thousand to your rear. Weapons tight and locked,” was my reply, and the throttle quickly went up an additional thirty percent.

    I was guessing its more imperial fighters, but my warning receiver is labeling their scanners as ‘Buuper Torsckil - Unknown’. Never even heard of them and I tap the screen for more info. Little is available, the computer can’t identify the type of vessel, but it labels the manufacture as being from the planet Utapau, which I have also never heard of. Could be some kind of spoofing, or maybe these guys are in trouble with all sorts of beings. I’ve already wasted a decent number of missile on the expedition and if this cap wants to vape them, he is more than welcome to, once I am out of the way.

    Upcoming Action

    “Unidentified capital ship. This is the Anoat Revenue Service. Those you protect have engaged in un-warranted hostilities within our jurisdiction, and departed without paying docking fees. You will stand down, or be regarded as outlaws throughout the Empire.”

    Well, there is one thing in the galaxy you don’t want to mess with and that’s a revenue service. I’m letting the capital vessel take this one, because the less time I spend here, the less time I have collection agencies trying to extort me for funds.


    My transponder is pinged by someone aft of me, the computer alerting me and asking for permission to send a response. Legally, this process it suppose to be automatic in most jurisdictions. In Skadi space it is technically legal to delay a response, but only in certain circumstances are you allowed to block an IFF interrogation. In this case what I am going to do, is extremely illegal and I send back a corrupt data signal that gives false technical information and riding on a archaic beam pattern. This way it will reveal nothing of my vessel’s origins or technical capabilities. I press ‘send’ and a quick burst of data beams back to the interrogating vessel and then zero out my transponder, punching in a new random code manually. I switch to the secure comm and say to Trenton and our new employers, Pentacles is squawking Zero-Esk-Esk-One, no tech, no codes. Request mark as blue. Sigma, advise parrot; no tech, no codes.”

    Tag: Bravo KraytDragon90 Bardan_Jusik Sith-I-5
  18. Sith-I-5

    Sith-I-5 Force Ghost star 6

    Aug 14, 2002
    IC: Captain Yavscout, Chief Engineer Tim Williams, Mon Cal crew of the Mako, Delicate Delinquent, the Mako
    Location: Berroll's Donn

    Yavscout awaited Merc Ten's response, feeling a little envious of the young man for his ability to remember what number Merc he was.
    The elf had the vague feeling that his own would be Merc Four, but he hoped the success of the Prophesy would never hinge on his being able to remember at some key point in the future, cos they'd all be fr-

    "That’s a good copy. I’ll pass along your regards and will be back momentarily. Ten out."

    "A good copy?" Yav echoed sarcastically without transmitting, "I'm honoured. Ow!" He instantly bent down, head almost touching Wa Yay's console as he placed a palm over the shin she had kicked. "What are you, his Mum?"

    Tim, whose peace-keeping efforts had already been rebuffed, folded his arms and sat back on the dedicated Communications Station where the C.T. clone had sat earlier. "Will you stop hitting him, please? Are you like this with Vacks and Streets?"

    The Petty Officer said nothing, only smiling.

    From the height of her midriff, Yav grunted, "That thing I said about Surefall Paramedics? More of a guideline than a hard rule."

    * * * *
    Mako Bridge

    After the Merc's starfighter had departed, and the cargo bay re-sealed, the Mon Cal captain checked the internal atmosphere readings to see if it was safe to remove his helmet, while behind him, Engineer Luten trotted up the internal stairwell, and let himself onto the Command Deck

    "Okay, Captain. The Merc representative said they are moving to the Whendell System to do the repairs, and it would be good if we could follow them."

    The captain remembered his mission briefing. "Makes a sort of sense, I suppose. Whendyll System is where Port Haven is, the Mercs' only known permanent base. Yavscout's undercover operation started there." He gestured back to the navigation station. "Set the hyperspace coordinates and calculate a hyperspace route. It's a bit close to Imperial Centre for my liking, but we have been seconded to these people for the time being."

    He could tell from the light hitting the polarised forward port, that the Hunk of Junk had swung away from them, so cleared the reset the window settings, making it transparent again.

    After a few moments, Luten reported. "Jump co-ords set, Captain."

    The officer nodded, flicking on his internal comms: "This is the bridge. We will be jumping to supralight in tee minus ten, nine, eight, seven-"

    As the Merc ships headed back to the interdictor, the Mako accelerated, disappearing from the physical universe as if it had never existed.

    Tag: Palso, Mac
  19. kommando104

    kommando104 Jedi Youngling star 1

    Apr 27, 2013

    GM approved character sheet. Will post new post soon, in both OOG thread and IC with this character.

    Name: Cain Varss
    Gender: Male
    Age: 29
    Species: Human
    Homeworld: Imperial Center
    Affiliation: Formerly Empire, Mercs (or at least hoping to be)

    ---Traits: Slightly arrogant, but competent and confident in his abilities; self-reliant; a quick study, but only if he’s interested; slightly vain
    ---Likes: exercise, fighting (has been known to pick bar fights when drinking), flying, hunting, drinking, holovids, scholarly historical periodicals and books, money
    ---Dislikes: excessive (what he considers excessive at least) authority and control;
    ---Habits: works out when he’s stressed, actually twiddles his thumbs when he’s bored; if he’s stressed and can’t work out, he tends to be angry and on edge

    ---Skin Color: Caucasian
    ---Hair Color: Black
    ---Eye Color: Icy blue
    ---Clothing: Flight Suit; old imperial flight suit minus the helmet and imperial patches, has adopted a helmet more in the style of those used by the alliance. Street Clothes; Same black boots that he wears with his flight suit, with dark grey cargo pants and a black t-shirt with a black jacket. He wears a pistol holster on his right thigh in both cases (whether or not the pistol is in it).
    ---Other Attributes: He keeps his hair short in a buzz cut and has sharp facial features with a solid jaw line. Since leaving the Empire’s service, he has adopted a more relaxed grooming standard and allowed his facial hair to grow out some, keeping it until it gets to what he would define as “too scruffy”. He has been called decently attractive, and definitely is slightly vain. Because his workouts are generally cardio centric he has a medium build coming it at 75 kilos (165 lbs).
    ---Other Details: Big scar that runs the length of his left forearm.

    Weapons: Survival/hunting knife he keeps in his right boot; imperial scout holdout blaster kept in his left boot; DL-44 (modified with no scope, but rather iron sights) on his right thigh; Dressellian Projectile Rifle (slugthrower sniper’s/hunter’s rifle) in his ship or the armory

    ---Name:Z-95 Headhunter (Meatshield)
    ---Class: Starfigher
    ---Hyperdrive Class: modified to use a 1.0 hyperdrive
    ---Weapon(s): (standard) 2 KX5 laser cannons each wing, 2 missile launcher tubes
    ---Shields: standard
    ---Sublight Speed: upgraded increased to 85 mglt
    ---Crew: 1
    ---Passenger(s): n/a
    ---Max Cargo (kg): 85kg
    ---Interior Description: a cramped cockpit
    ---Other Details: His Z-95 was all black with thick gold pinstripes down the middle

    The Force
    ---Sensitivity: N/A
    ---Religion: Self-reliance

    ---Personal History:

    Cain was born an only child to a rich Kuati businessman named Alexi Varss on what was then known as Coruscant. When Cain was 8, his mother, Siala, died in what was officially called an accident involving a droid malfunction, however there were accusations of foul play against his father Alexi, though none of them stuck, and it was blamed on CIS terrorist attacks. A few months later, Alexi remarried, though it didn’t catch any news because of the war. Cain was still old enough to remember his mother, and he always resented his father for the accusations. After the war, Alexi became very close with the Imperial regime under Palpatine and his business boomed even more acquiring a number of military contracts.

    When Cain was 14, Alexi took him hunting on Kashyyyk for katarn, a predatory animal native to the planet. Alexi, wanting to harden his son, left him in the wilderness of Kashyyyk telling him to bring back “a few and come back a man or not to come back at all”. Cain, who had been trained by his father at the shooting range was a deadly shot, but not an experienced hunter and stalker. He quickly found himself overwhelmed with only his Adventurer slugthrower rifle and the 5 inch hunting knife his father gave him. Three katarn attacked at once, and he killed two of them. The third was shot, but only wounded and had Cain’s rifle was damaged. The injured katarn was cornered and it lunged at the seemingly defenseless Cain. He blocked the attack with his left arm and then attacking the beast with the knife in his right hand. He scored a killing blow on the beast by jabbing the knife deep into its heart through its ribs, but the katarn had already slashed the full length of Cain’s left forearm. Cain refused bacta treatment, adamant that he wanted to see the scar as long as he lived. His father showed no remorse, and even showed a little pride. That disgusted Cain.

    Into Cain’s teen’s he became increasingly reckless and vain. He showed off to the ladies with his expensive speeders and his good looks earning him a certain reputation on Imperial Center, not a favorable one for his father who was constantly bailing Cain out of bad situations and run-ins with the law. Despite his best efforts to rebel against his father, he went to university and graduated at 19, barely, with a degree in history which was the only subject that managed to keep his attention for any measurable amount of time, though if they had a major in blasters and babes, he would have happily taken that alternative. When he graduated, his father presented a great deal of personal pressure against him, using law enforcement against his personal contacts to motivate him to go to the Imperial Naval Academy. After momentous pressure and nearly being jailed himself, Cain obliged.

    Initially he went through the year long officer training program to become a bridge officer on a capital ship, and graduated in a high position in his class. However, after going to his first assignment, his arrogance almost had him discharged, but his influential father managed to keep that from happening. Cain could no longer continue in his current career path without significant obstacles, and so he was switched to being trained as a fighter pilot. His father knew they were disposable, even the officers, but, from Cain’s perspective, his father did not care. One thing Cain did not realize was that his time with the military was already reigning in his recklessness, vanity, and arrogance.

    Because of his previous sins against the Imperial Navy, Cain had been assigned to one of the most hostile sectors filled with pirates and so called rebels after his completion of flight training. His good performance as a pilot earned him a commission as flight lieutenant in charge of one of the three flights in his assigned squadron. After a year flying a TIE Fighter as a flight lieutenant, his CO was KIA and Cain was promoted to squadron leader. Cain had never believed in the Rebellion or any such nonsense, but the more and more he flew for the Empire, the more he hated them. Then the day came when his wing commander told him to take his squadron and destroy a freighter convoy because of suspected rebel activity, and he carried it out. The convoy was destroyed. It was only later he learned that the convoy was mistaken for another in the sector and then Cain was written up for attacking it. From that day on his military career was shot, and he knew his superiors would use him as a scapegoat if he stayed in.

    After three more painful years, he finished his tour of duty. In the month long leave given to Cain and his squadron, Cain went to work. Those up for reenlistment had a month to get their affairs in order and do so, or get their paperwork together and be discharged. Cain went another path. By that point he despised the Empire and did not care for being allowed to leave by them, the idea of freedom of action drew him toward privateering, and a few of his fellow squadron mates followed him in his defection. Cain “borrowed” a few credits (2 million credits to be exact) from his father’s account to purchase three Z-95 Headhunters at the age of 25. One for himself and two others for a couple of the defectors that defected with Cain. Cain never intended to speak with his father or family again.

    Cain and the two others from his squadron took private contracts for a year together until he had just turned 26. At that point, the other two were taking more destructive contracts and showed brutal tactics. Cain didn’t mind being unscrupulous or violent, but he was never one for brutality. Cain was uneasy with this, and did not feel comfortable with being labeled a pirate. He left them explaining they were on their own and Cain wanted no more part with them. Three years after that Cain had been flying protection freelance for freight companies in his Z-95 and had been relatively successful, and still had some money backed up

    At the age of 29 he hoped to be able to get on with the Mercs. Their reputation of anti-Empire activities enticed him. In his experience, he’d learned a bit of humility, though had also learned how effective his own training and expertise was. It both reduced and reinforced his sense of self worth, and slightly validated his own arrogance, but also made him more confident in it. Because of this, he felt he was perfect for an organization like the Mercs, and sent in a message, an application of sorts, to the Mercs to take him on. He knew, because of his background, the chances were slim, however he was hopeful.

    ---Military History:

    6 years of military experience in the Empire. 1 year of capital ship command training; 1 month working on a capital ship (and nearly getting discharged, had to be saved by daddy); 1 year training to be a flight lieutenant; 1 year being a flight lieutenant with the Imperial Navy; 3 years being as a squadron leader with the Imperial Navy.

    ---Traumatic Experiences:

    Mother dying in mysterious circumstance when 8 years old; attack by katarn at 14 years old that left a long scar on left forearm; detachment and no recognition of father figure from a young age; still haunted from attacking the civilian freight convoy under orders from the Empire.
  20. kommando104

    kommando104 Jedi Youngling star 1

    Apr 27, 2013
    IC: Cain Varss
    Smuggler's Run, Skip One

    The Z-95 dropped out of hyperspace just outside the area of an asteroid belt known as Smuggler’s Run. Hutt Space. That made Cain uneasy. He had run protection for freighters in Hutt Space, and they were typically the more dangerous shipments. Not as dangerous as other parts in the Outer Rim, but Hutt Space had its own unique danger. The Hutts protected certain pirate groups, for a price of course, but protected them nonetheless. He figured a lone Z-95 would not pick up much attention though.

    He had heard through various contacts developed over the course of his short career as a freelancer mercenary that members of the Mercs were meeting on Skip One for some reason. He had wanted in with them for a while, but the application process was somewhat convoluted. He surmised that the convoluted process was for the best. It kept those that didn’t really want to be in out. Cain wanted it. He wasn’t sure how much, but he did. The reputation of the Mercs as killers of imperials compelled him to find them. His anger, and his guilt, for the injustices done by the Empire brewed within him. He didn’t care for any supposed cause they fought for. He just wanted money, and a place to direct his anger.

    He flew his way toward Skip One’s hanger. He’d dealt with these unsavory ports before. They were pretty straight forward, a docking fee and a fuel fee. If one wanted anonymity of arrival, one would also pay a bribe toward that. Cain didn’t care if his presence was broadcasted, though he suspected his arrival wouldn’t create many ripples. He just hoped it would create the right ripples. A former imperial starfighter pilot working as a freelance privateer for the past 3 years. He hoped it was enough, because the only thing his source mentioned was that they may be there or there might be someone there to point him in the right direction. Cain was taking a shot in the dark. He couldn’t take on the Empire himself; he needed a cause to join.

    After Cain docked in the hanger of Skip One, he paid the dock manager for fuel and the docking. He made his way toward the nearest bar. He figured he could ask the bartenders about the Mercs activities. He walked into the nearest bar, The Hutt’s Scuttle. Cain walked up to the bar and took a seat, and looked at the bartender. Human, but with scars and rough patches all over his face. This man had been burned by the galaxy.

    “What are ya drinkin’?” asked the bartender.

    “Double of Corellian whiskey please, no rocks," he said flatly.

    The bartender gave him an off look. “Please? Son, ya know manners will get ya kill’t ‘round here dontcha?” The bartender poured the beverage into the glass. Cain grabbed it and downed the double in one gulp.

    “Yes sir, I know manners would get me killed, but unfortunately they are ingrained in me and my upbringing. Another, please,” Cain said with a grin and an almost wink. The bartender was still weary but smiled almost reassured after Cain downed the drink in one gulp. The bartender went for another, better, bottle of whiskey ‘in the back’. Cain scanned the bar area. Nothing out of place. His mind was racing trying to take in the surroundings. He had no idea what to expect at this point, something that he’d never actually admit to himself.

    Tag: JediFalcon, any
  21. Bravo

    Bravo Jedi Grand Master star 6

    Sep 10, 2001
    IC: Jason Lasso
    Cockpit, Luck's Gamble, leaving Cloud City, Outer Rim

    Pentacles is squawking Zero-Esk-Esk-One, no tech, no codes. Request mark as blue. Sigma, advise parrot; no tech, no codes.”

    These pilots were professional in their talk, even more so then what Taller had required...and the old Clone Wars veteran seemed to run his ship as straight as a pencil. Jason had to give the pilots credit, but for now, the Eleventh Hour was bringing up their rear and following them now, a fighter escort just deploying.It would be time soon to blow this joint and Lasso looked at his console screen: they were at a safe distant for a hyper jump.

    Either way, Lasso had to find a way to pay these new found pilots...problem was, it was hard to stop, have a meeting, and exchange illegally offered and paid for services with a government agency on your tail. Ler looked over, seeming to be able to read Lasso's thoughts.

    "Captain," the droid began, "Taller had a banking account he always forwarded people to who helped the Mercs. He never touched it unless he needed to, but always made sure something went into the account each time we got paid on a contract. Its been years since Taller has accessed the account for a withdraw and if my calculations are correct with interest, there should easily be triple in the account of what these pilots need.A ISB vessel just doesn't 'happen' to show up without some form of support somewhere. The faster we get out of here, the better."

    Jason nodded, "I know. How do they access it?"

    "I can do it for us," the droid said, seeming to look off in the distance. The droid seemed to 'shut down' for a moment, then restart, and the droid seemed to be possessed by some remote power as it brought up a data burst and transmitted a highly encrypted message to the two fighters. The hanger droid seemed to shut down again, then come back alive, this time back to its own self. The droid looked at Jason.

    "I don't want to know," Lasso commented.

    "Secret access codes for the account that Taller entrusted to me. No memory wipe can take it out and no one, unless they dismantle me, can find it and even at that, they need to know what their looking for," Ler commented, "The data has been sent to them like a debit code, encrypted and able to be extracted only from their starfighters' main computer directly from physical means now, making the transfer of money almost thief safe andtheir credits to be untraceable to us, since the access codes go to a shell company and not us."

    Lasso brought up the comm to the fighters, "Okay, this is where we part ways," Lasso said, "You should have a direct debit code access to your starfighter's computer for your payment, the payment split between both of your fighters. You download the data from your starfighters' main computer to a data-pad and can withdraw the money with the debit codes from any place in the galaxy. If you want to speak further business, I'll send you hyperspace cords to our next stop if you choose to follow us. Thanks for the assist."

    Electricity over Taab's armor reflected off of the forward viewport. Lasso looked back and saw Taab tearing the briefcase open, then looked forward as Ler said, "Clear for hyperspace."

    "Hang on Taab," Lasso said and pulled back the hyperspace levers. A course it wouldn't of been a straight shot, the Luck's Gamble would bounce around a few jumps to loose a trail, then go to Port Haven, the cords that he gave the two fighter pilots that assisted them.

    In the darkness of space, the Luck's Gamble disappeared into hyperspace. The Light-class Destroyed followed suit, first collecting its fighters, then jumping to Red Space which, unlike hyperspace, was untraceable and one jump could be used. Port Haven was everyone's destination.

    TAG @GenOochy, @KraytDragon90, Sith-I-5


    IC: Jason Lasso
    Cockpit, Luck's Gamble, hyperspace

    The swirl of hyperspace would be a temporary escape from the dangers of Bespin, before they reentered normal space and jumped again, repeating this a third time to throw off anyone following them.

    "Hey Skipper, take a look at this."

    Lasso looked back from his seat and whistle at the contents of the briefcase; Jason looked to Ler, "Can you handle flying?"

    "A course Captain," Ler said and took over from the co-pilot seat. Jason unbuckled his crash webbing and went over to where Taab was and knelt down, running his hands through the countless Credit chips of various amounts, $1,000 credit coins (OOG: awesome imagine by the way), and even a few gems and crystals tucked away within it all.

    "By the Force," Jason said, picking up a credit chip that ran a range of 50 million credits, "There's enough credits here to---" Jason felt his hand slip deeper, where it shouldn't have. A secret compartment? "Taab, help me here," Jason indicated, "There's something else under here." The security chief helped him and soon, the two had the fake bottom out. Taab was the smarter of the two men, stopping Lasso inches short of setting off a bobby trap that would of killed them both with a rapid release of a vile containing the Candorian plague (Lasso had no idea what it was, other then a toxin of some type). Once Taab had the booby trap disarmed, Lasso was about to pick up a gently brown paper wrapped book when Ler suddenly turned around from the co-pilot seat and faced Taab and Lasso.

    "I wouldn't," the droid said, adding, "If this belongs to the ISB and they've already had this much security for a book," the droid nodded to the black padding on the bottom of the brief case and the mold in which the book sat, "I wouldn't be surprised that there's a pressure sensor that is set off once you remove the book. It could be another bobby trap, but I doubt it. It would probably send some type of data burst to the nearest Imperial outpost to alert the authorities that its been removed. And we could have a whole fleet of warships on top of us within hours."

    Jason sighed, "Your probably right. Can you disarm it? I'm going to need to borrow Taab to restrain me from beating sleeping beauty's face in."

    Ler shrugged, "Probably. But I'll need some time. It looks high tech. ISB or Imperial Intelligence type for sure."

    Lasso looked to Taab, "Better go wake sleeping beauty. I want to know what is so important that you hide a book under," Lasso looked at the pile of credit next to them and his eyes widened, "All of that credit. We could buy a world and hire a small army to defend it and still have enough left over to retire and not lift a finger the rest of the days."

    TAG Bardan_Jusik
  22. Mitth_Fisto

    Mitth_Fisto Jedi Grand Master star 6

    Sep 29, 2005
    IC: Chris Streets
    Hanger Bay, Skip One

    Standing around with the rest at the bottom of the ramp, looking at Fress and the Mando he patiently waited to see what would happen. With Fress giving orders he gave Havah a quirked eyebrow and sly grin as he russled his hair. The statement was clear, the kid was taking an a stroll into a pelting run. "Give em' a centermeter." He simply replied with a grin.

    "Alright kid, let's see what this place has to offer, I heard they have this nice spot called the Prime Idiot. Good place to start." With a grin and a sketchy salute he headed off. One thing you had to learn on the fringe was the only official documents on anyone for background checks was either the governments that told of who had been caught and who was suspected. Only the best weren't on those lists, and those that were normally had lot more to their reputations than the governments knew about. The governments knew this but what can you do? Some levels of society like currents never could cross, merely brush past each other. So with an initial they headed they headed toward the Casino.

    TAG: Bardan_Jusik , Bravo, JediFalcon

    IC: Havah Jeth
    Hanger Bay, Skip One

    Rolling his eyes, which actually now was a more observable event he waited and rolled them again at Chris' nonverbal message. Kids. "Yes Mam." he simply replied as he fingered his blaster. All he had to do was get past the first part and then he could see about his side mission. At least later lives would depend on him.

    TAG: Coffee_Ninja , you know who the rest of you lot are ;)
  23. Bravo

    Bravo Jedi Grand Master star 6

    Sep 10, 2001
    IC: Rav Cater
    The Hutt’s Scuttle, Skip One, Smuggler's Run

    Cater took the last swallow of his whiskey as he eyed the new comer---from his middle of the bar table---male who took a seat at the bar. The man looked like he knew the galaxy from his walk. But he looked a bit unsure of himself here at Smuggler's Run. That much was clear from how he took his drink from the bartender---Rav knew his job and knew his job well. The whole Port Haven mishap not withstanding, he was still a "valuable" resource to his employers...current employers that is. While his pirate brothern at Port Haven tried to kill him, Rav had made a deal with a man known as Mr. Red. "Mr. Red" said he knew the Mercs...and would give Rav a second chance. The alien hooked Rav up with contacts out of this galaxy and next thing Rav knew, his bail had been paid and he was at Smuggler's Run, working for another shadowy pirate group, and enjoying every minute of it. Life was good at Smuggler's Run and so had business. Why not cash in on some bonus credits with the pirate captain? The men who knew the galaxy but walked into a bar like this new one did were the best targets. They had egos to make themselves feel secure....then Rav would simply take their ship out from under them.

    Rumor had spread quickly that the Mercs had just landed seeking a crew---and Rav Cater was never one far away from the newest news with the Mercs. From the looks of it, the male human at the bar was looking for work. While the Port Haven gig fell through, rumor had it Taller was out and a new, young leader was in charge. And best yet, no one would recognize him...except for Way Yay and Andrew Monk. But those were people he could manage, especially with his newly altered facial structure.

    Walking through the crowded bar, Rav sat down next to the new comer at the bar and said, "You look like a man looking for work," Rav said, "Me too. Been almost a week and nothing. Trying to find a honest flying job---semi honest," Rav smiled, "Lets be honest here about work chances and Smuggler's Run, right?. Oh, the name's Book, Sal Book. Freelance fighter pilot. And you are...?"

    TAG kommando104, JediFalcon, any
  24. kommando104

    kommando104 Jedi Youngling star 1

    Apr 27, 2013
    IC: Cain Varss
    The Hutt's Scuttle, Skip One, Smuggler's Run

    The bartender brought Cain his second double of Corellian whiskey. He decided that he'd nurse this drink more carefully, seeing as it was an expensive old whiskey. The bartender had brought the bottle with him and placed it under the counter, undoubtedly planning to sell more of the expensive alcohol to Cain. Cain caught a glimpse of the bottle. Makers Stamp. Expensive. My father drank this stuff regularly. Cain figured his manners made the bartender hope he was some big shot high-paying customer, thus the better whiskey. He took a whiff and let the alcohol burn the insides of his nostrils a bit. The scent was familiar. He took a little sip. This certainly brings me back to all those parties while dad was gone, he reminisced about his late teens.

    Cain was about to throw a rather large credit chip on the bar for the bartender when movement caught his eye. Specifically movement toward him. His right hand moved past his pocket and onto the butt of his DL-44 as the man grabbed the seat next to him. The bar was crowded, but Cain thought he had seen the man sitting alone in a booth upon his arrival. He wasn't sure if the move was intentional, and if it was, it might have just been a lonely spacer looking for conversation from another spacer. Then the man spoke.

    "You look like a man looking for work," Rav said, "Me too. Been almost a week and nothing. Trying to find a honest flying job---semi honest," Rav smiled, "Lets be honest here about work chances and Smuggler's Run, right?. Oh, the name's Book, Sal Book. Freelance fighter pilot. And you are...?"

    Cain could almost see the slime ooze off the man, or maybe that was the smoke in the bar area. He wasn't sure. He had the aura of a used speeder salesman, except worse; a used speeder salesman that was actually good at it. This man was an opportunist, but so was Cain to an extent, so he couldn't fault the man outright for that, though he knew he couldn't trust him, not that he trusted anyone, but he knew to stay on guard.

    "My name is Cain," he said in his Courscanti accent. He hoped the accent would throw the man off, though he expected a man of this caliber wouldn't be phased by much. He didn't appear older, but Cain felt that Book had more experience in this arena than he did; a troubling sign. "Cain Supertramp," he lied. The less Book, or anyone else for that matter, knew about him the better. If he was with the Mercs, the name 'Cain' would likely signal something, since Cain had been trying to get in contact with them for well over 6 months. If not, he'd know where he stood. This man had information, though. Cain could use that.

    Cain continued with the conversation. "If I was looking for any old work, I could find it. If not here, then Ryloth or Tatooine or any number of Outer Rim planets. I'm here for something more specific." Cain paused. He didn't want to give his intentions or goals away too much, but he had to put Book in the right frame of mind. Cain took a casual sip of the Makers Stamp with his left hand. He relished the flavor for a second then decided to go on the metaphorical and conversational offensive. "Have you heard of anything big happening here involving freelance groups? Pirate, mercenary, or otherwise?" At this point, Cain was in full on poker face. His tone as casual as he could muster, though he was nervous. He'd never admit it, but he was. One wrong step in a place like this could mean death, or worse. And there was certainly worse than death out there. He hoped it went unnoticed.

    Tag: Bravo, JediFalcon, any
  25. Falcon

    Falcon Chosen One star 10

    Feb 7, 2002
    IC: Fress Colias
    Smugglers Run Skip One

    "Give em' a centermeter." He simply replied with a grin.

    "Alright kid, let's see what this place has to offer, I heard they have this nice spot called the Prime Idiot. Good place to start."

    “The Prime Idiot?” Fress questioned as she finished putting in brown colored eye contacts and dyed her hair a strawberry blond. “Who comes up with these names?” She questioned as she looked at herself in the mirror. She shuddered at the thought about using a voice changer. She didn’t think she still needed it at this time. Maybe when things started getting hot again.

    Fress walked out of the Crusader’s fresher and frowned. She took followed Streets and Havah as she glanced down at the names of taverns on her list. One name caught her eye. The Hutt’s Scuttle. “How do Hutts scuttle?” she questioned in a light humour tone. Something in her gutt told her this should be the first stop. “I sense the Hutt’s Scuttle should be our first stop.”

    Mitth_Fisto, Bardan_Jusik, Coffee_Ninja
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