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

IC: Jim Palso
Level Four, Bow compartment, Delicate Delinquent

“I’m doing fine, how about you?”

Jim turned around at hearing Xan's voice; his grin was quickly replaced by a frown, "When was the last time you slept?" Palso waved the question away, "Silly question, right? We're fighting for our lives, not sleep. Well," Palso forked a thumb past the stunt defying Yav and floating Yav to the large pipes, "We need to check those larger pipes' emergency hatches. There should be several on the bottom level. You up to the task for a little game of finding Imperial listening devices?"

In short order, Palso had lead the pair to a pipe roughly below and to the right of Yav, "Okay, we'll start here," Jim pointed to levers in the immediate area, "We'll have to stop the flow of whatever liquids are in these pipes or risk swimming in it once we open the hatches. You work on this hatch, I'll work on the next pipe over. We're looking for a listening device probably planted on the inside of the emergency hatch. Savvy?"

Jim went over to his pipe and started the process of closing off the various levers. When that process was done, he opened the emergency hatch he had assigned himself to. A puddle of liquid escaped the tight seal and landed on the floor as the pressure let go of its hold on the liquid as the hatch was opened...


TAG CPL_Macja and Sith-I-5 for result of Palso's pipe

 

IC: Ler
Cockpit, Luck's Gamble, Port Haven (early afternoon)


"... yeah I've been there too," he opened his eyes now, "but not since the war. Nothing important."

Ler knew nodded, "I see. The war, I presume..." Ler let the statement hang in the air before Taab spoke again. Ler knew the Merc had seen action---and a lot of it---because he looked of it. Whether others saw it or not was a mute point. Ler did and that's all that mattered to the droid.

"Doesn't look familiar, or extraordinary. But an Air Cab driver is a pretty good cover for information brokers."

"Well, a dead body, a secret data disk, and a taxi driver job to go off of," Ler muttered a curse under his breath and keyed up the comm for Lasso, "Captain?"





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



IC: Jason Lasso
Haven's Water, Port Haven (early afternoon)


There was a reason why Taller had always warned the mercenaries under his command to stay close to the local Aces' Club: it was neutral ground and no one in the club could do any harm, regardless of a contract, to another member of the group. Haven's Water, clearly, was not on the neutral list.

Lasso kneed the unlucky man in the stomach with a resounding rush of air from the man's lungs; ;Lasso then brought an elbow to the back of the man's neck and knocked him a good one as he was doubled over. The man fell to the ground in heap in enough time for Lasso to catch the next on-rusher with a forearm block that blocked the man's rotating arm to bring his knife about to slice through Lasso clean. With the temporary advantage, Lasso gave the man a upper cut to the upper mid section that crushed his diaphragm right below his sternum. The man's painful grunt spoke volumes as he halted his progress, just enough for Lasso to grab the knife from his hand and shove it into his forearm, giving the man something to worry about more then chasing Lasso down.

By the time it was all said and done, Port Haven Security had rounded up the law breakers and had escorted them away. The fight in no way involved the Mercs, rather Lasso and his comrades found themselves in the middle of a rival mercenary starfighter squadron showdown between two other squadrons who happened to find themselves in the same bar at the same moment. A few drinks later and it didn't matter which side you were on, you were punching the guy next to you.

By now, Lasso and his comrades were heading towards Aces Club, their new would-be contractors never showing up to Haven's Water. Lasso was about to enter when his comm went off.

"Captain?"

"Yes, Ler?" Lasso responded.

"The body is essentially a dead-end with who he is. Taab thinks the taxi bit is a cover story. But there's some interesting information we found. You may want to come take a look at it."

"Copy Ler. Give me a few minutes. I'm going to check out the Aces' Club for useful information."

"Copy, sir. What are to do with the body?"

"Minus well dump it at the scrapyard. There's nothing we can do about it. If you can find a way to give it a somewhat proper grave site, go ahead. But don't stress over it. Stay at the shuttle...but..." Lasso peaked in through a window to see the dreaded Coruscant Aces' fighter jackets inside, "You may want to Taab to get over here to the Aces' Club...purely as a means to prevent hostile action and end it if it starts. Lasso out."

The next thing Lasso knew there was a black bag over his head and he knew nothing more....


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


The bag was yanked off his head and the bright glare of a light in the utter darkness prevented him from seeing nothing more then shadows in front of him. Even the fist that came and ran across his face was nothing more then a dark object coming into the light. To either side of him were his comrades, the black bags still over their heads.

While his would-be captors were trying to prevent Lasso was recognizing where he was at, there efforts were ill awarded. The smell alone and the steady drip of water from pipes reminded Lasso very clearly of the underground tunnels under the Octagon that he, Havah, and Winterkill had found themselves in all those months ago.

"Any questions? Or are you just going to hit me all---" Lasso was rewarded with another side punch to the face; after shaking it off---Jason was tied to a crude metal chair, as were his comrades, with a wall behind them and a long corridor in front of them----Jason spoke, "I guess not."

The long corridor ran to where Lasso assumed up ahead were the main corridors under the Octagon; this corridor must of been for storage or supplies of some short with the half empty shelves along the side of the corridor. From the shadows directly in front of him and the two figures far up ahead by where the light of other corridors was at, Lasso guessed at least 6 men or aliens all together.

Up above, the ceiling shook with a rattle of cheers as the Octagon was in full fight mode up above. The timing of this capture couldn't of been better. Even if Taab found them, he would have to fight through security and crowds in the Octagon above to get down here and fight through the thugs current. Unless, a course, he knew the back way into these underground tunnels, the same way Lasso was sure he and his comrades were brought here. But either way, with the noisy crowd above, Lasso and his comrades' tortures would never be heard...


TBC (Tag Bardan_Jusik)

 

IC: Dom
Prime Idiot, Skip One, Smuggler's Run


Dom smiled, "You don't really need me, do you?" The Ryn's eyes seemed to shine with a challenge, "Do you? But, maybe I could be useful? Remember, as I said, I told you a truth with some fairytale. But did I tell you all the fairytale and all the truth? Riddles and fact, mazes and truth, mirrors and light, is life...you must decide, which one am I? Which one are you? Because, can you trust yourself? Or anyone?"

The Ryn got up without another word and disappeared into the crowd.


TAG Mitth_Fisto and Bardan_Jusik

 

IC: Cain Varss
Hutt's Scuttle, Skip One, Smuggler's Run

"The way he throws his name around means one of two things. Either he’s really new to this or it’s a well-done alias. Considering what he’s told me, I suspect it’s an alias and not someone who is new to this kind of establishment. Proving it will be a challenge. His background check didn’t add up to what he was telling me.”

That's her CorSec skills at work.

“I’ve rubbed the odd person the wrong way or vice versa. It’s just something that happens and sometimes can’t be helped. The best thing to do is to talk it out with him.”

Cain had to keep himself from laughing, though the look of amusement inevitably crossed his face. I prefer the two decks apart strategy. "Thank you for the advice." He recomposed himself. "Remember though, just because he has an alias doesn't mean he's bad. You are a perfect example of that." From what I can tell at least. "You mentioned the crews' families were threatened? Maybe he's trying to protect those he loves, assuming someone like that can ever love anybody." Cain hated those that skated by on confidence. It was the primary means of advancement in the TIE pilot world. Skills and numbers don't mean anything, and if you're humble, they take it as a sign of a lack of aggression. "I can't take the use of an alias as a bad thing if he is using one, though uncovering his true identity could be invaluable." Cain paused and took a gulp of whiskey. "We're all running from something ma'am, myself included."

Tag: JediFalcon

 

IC: Captain Ool-Re-Kospi (npc), the Green Goblin HT-2200 heavy freighter
Location: Hyperspace. Several minutes to Smugglers Run


The Sabre Guard on Malastare and his Imperial Intelligence helpers were not the only ones to figure out the shadowport connection.

The holonet channel that had been live-broadcasting the COMPNOR kids at Bespin, had taken the matter personally, and were looking for the Mercs too.

Captain Ool had been willing to continue in the service of the Kingdom of Jod after that inspiring escapade at the Block, but their King-class battleships, and the Mercs had gone to ground, and he had been unable to trace them.

Now he had a job involving a group of outlaws identified as "The Mercs", but this time he had Imperial Holovision credits in his pocket, or rather in the ship safe.

The White's..., uh, for this operation, the telesponder had been set to identify the ship as the Snow White, which was apt, because the spacious forward-opening cargo bay had held the Seven Dwarves, or rather the Eight Dwarves, although the last un-named missile, he was keeping for himself, part of his pay.

But all the inter-planetary ranged projectiles were simply hollow shells, each containing a folded http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/K-X12_probe_droid]K-X12[/url] probe.

The Tiss'shar spacer picked up a chilled plastic bottle of Blum juice, and took what Corellians liked to call a man-sized swig.

He had already deployed Bashful to Syvris, a shadowport on the borders of Imperial and Hutt space, and Grumpy to keep an electronic eye on the slickly-named Yetoom Na Un.

Kospi pressed the keys on the terminals that had been plugged into his normal control boards, to start Dopey's initialisation sequence while he brought the Snow White out of supralight, the hyperspace tunnel outside collapsing to starlines as his craft decelerated and returned to realspace.

The cargo bay rumbled open, Dopey's sublight engine flared, and the projectile shot into the chaos of asteroids that was Smugglers Run.

"Right then, next stop - Vergesso."

A brief flash of light distracted him from his musings, as a huge rolling boulder side-swiped the Dopey's flight pod out of existence.

"Ah, dammit!" Captain Kospi hissed in annoyance. "If you want something doing, you may as well do it yourself."

He closed the cargo doors and eased the 'Goblin towards the nearest of the outlying asteroids. Rather than risk another of the expensive droids among the asteroids, he would have to do this sith himself, starting with Skip One.
Besides, he could do with a break from the ship. And, he had all those credits burning a hole.

"Now, there is an art to this. Shame I cannot remember what it is."

Tag: no-one

 

IC: Fress Colias
Hutts Scuttle Skip One Smugglers Run

"I can't take the use of an alias as a bad thing if he is using one, though uncovering his true identity could be invaluable." Cain paused and took a gulp of whiskey. "We're all running from something ma'am, myself included."

Fress leaned back and knew that was the truth, on the other hand she couldn’t dismiss Books feelings through the Force either and had to take those into consideration. There was something there that made her very weary of the man. “I can sense mixed emotions from Book through the Force and I can’t dismiss those feelings either. Just keep an eye on him until I know for sure I suppose. I would hate to hire someone on and find out they have an agenda against the group.”


kommando104

 

IC: Cain Varss
Hutt's Scuttle, Skip One, Smuggler's Run

“I can sense mixed emotions from Book through the Force and I can’t dismiss those feelings either. Just keep an eye on him until I know for sure I suppose. I would hate to hire someone on and find out they have an agenda against the group.”

That Jedi thing sure comes in handy. Cain suddenly felt like he had fewer clothes on. Not completely naked, but still a little more apprehensive. I guess it's not her fault she has these abilities. "When I was walking toward the bar from the hanger I saw him ogling a YT-1300 and some X-wings. I assume that they are your-," he stopped himself. I've already signed my life away, so I guess they are ours. "-ours?"

It was weird for Cain to be part of a group again. Part of him was happy, especially if everyone welcomed him like Fress did, but there was apprehension there as well. He had isolated himself for 3 years more or less, save some call girls and his Z-95. Maybe that's why I keep seeing her. Or it's just that the guilt has finally caught up to me running away. Cain was almost afraid to look around cantina with the fear that he would see her again. Thankfully, he didn't. Still, a slight shade of melancholy crossed his face for a moment, then brought up his sabacc face to mask the pain.

"Is there anything we or I can do to help make up your mind other than sitting around?" Not that I haven't missed the company.

TAG: JediFalcon

 

OOG: This post was inspired by Timothy Zahn's writing of Mara Jade in Allegiance (novel).








IC: Jason Lasso
Octagon underground, Port Haven (early evening, around 5pm)


"Where is he?" Asked one of the "guards" suddenly and rather nervously; he, by the tone of his voice, was male and a human.

So that was it, Lasso thought, hired thugs. Anyone worth their salt, even with Lasso limited experience in the criminal underground, knew how to keep their mouths shut. At least Lasso knew he wasn't dealing with a organized group, at least as far as the term went for this group.

"Shhh," cited another one; this one Lasso could somewhat make out his facial features: a Rodian, "He'll come when he comes!"

"Organics," another more robot-like voice said, sounding like a 3PO-series protocol droid, "Always concerned about time."

"And your not, Mr. Logical over there?" Cited a female voice, but with a alien slurred Basic, probably a Twi'lek, "Your the one always talking about timing and deadlines."

"Because as droids, we're never off time."

There was a rumble from up ahead at the entrance of the corridors; the large form that silhouetted by the light in Jason's face made reminded him of a Wookiee, but seemed more like a Whiphid. A small alien with droopy ears, which reminded Lasso of a Lannik stood beside the taller alien by the door. The good thing was clearly these thugs weren't very smart. They had used a standard desk lamp, which could of worked, but they put it in the hands of one of their number and every time the Rodian talked or turned his head to hear another conversation, the light moved with him slightly, giving Lasso the chance to make out the number in their company and their body forms and hence human, alien, or droid makeup.

While the thugs were distracted by a sudden disagreement about payment and who was the leader, Lasso shook his head and glanced over his shoulder to each of his comrades in turn, "Major?" The hooded form nodded and replied with the Major's usual supply of slurred speech from drinking; "Mr. Biggs?" The pirate-like talk returned his response.

"Hey, their talking!" The Rodian said in alarm, which the human was about to come about with another punch to Lasso's face when a voice accomplished by two sets of walking feet in the distance spoke up.

"I wouldn't," spoke the Nautolan in very good Basic, "He spoke because you idiots can't do a simple job."

The alien came to a stop, a smaller and very girlish human form behind him; probably his assistant or girlfriend Lasso thought without much more thought into the matter. She was a hostile either way, as was the newly arrived Nautolan.

"Where's our money!?" demanded the woman thug.

"In time sweetie," spoke the girlish figure from behind in a very cold and controlled voice. Too cold and controlling; it sent shivers up Lasso's body suddenly. This was no assistant or girlfriend. The hard thing was, the girl didn't look a day over seventeen years old! So who was she?

"And who is she?!" demanded the thug, "You didn't say you were coming with anyone!"

"You shouldn't ask questions that your paycheck doesn't allow you to," the Nautolan replied sharply back, adding to the group as a whole (except for the two guards at the entrance up ahead), "Now get this desk light turned off and get me some real light. And get the other hoods off these other men too."

"Are you sure that is wise?" asked the human, adding, "They'll be able to see us."

"Who's paying your paychecks? And anyways, after what we'll about to do to them, it won't matter anyways. They won't remember a thing."

In short order, the hoods were off of all three Mercs, the desk light turned off, and the overhead ceiling lights turned on. While not perfect, the some dim and some flickering lights provided enough light for Lasso and his other Mercs to see.

And Lasso's jaw hung open.

"Mr. Red?!!!"

The Nautolan smiled, "Yes, the one, the only."

"But you were..." Lasso's eyes narrowed, "How could you? You betrayed us! You were our Rebel Alliance contact here at Port Haven!"

"I am---well was until today," the Nautolan confirmed, "But you see, it pays better to be an agent for both sides of the war then just for one. Whichever side wins, I win. And whichever side loses, I don't loose."

"A dangerous game..." Lasso replied, "Playing the fence as a double agent. Imperial and Rebel."

"Not really a double agent young Jason Lasso. More of a profiteer, much like yourself and the Mercs as mercenaries."

"We have our codes," Lasso replied.

Mr. Red laughed, "Taller had his codes for sure. His only code was revenge and misguided at that as an old war horse who had seen better days. He was nothing but a fool in his later years. I once believed in him..." Mr. Red trailed off as if in thought of his past, "Once I did. But then I saw the truth. When I heard of the Death Star project, I knew any hope for the Rebel Alliance was doomed. I figured I would stop pretending to live in a free galaxy and accept Imperial rule. And when I accepted Imperial rule, I realized how right it was. How justice and balance was brought to the galaxy because of the Emperor."

"Words spoken like a true coward trying to appease his new masters."

"Words of realization," the Nautolan shot back.

"This game is a waste of my time," the slender, young teenage woman said coldly.

"Yes, indeed it is," Mr. Red said, "You four, unchain them. We'll need to escort them to her waiting ship."

"That wasn't part of the deal," the Rodian suddenly said, "The contract fee just went up," the Rodian smirked, "My feet hurt when I walk."

Suddenly the alien dropped to the ground after the sound of a blaster pistol discharge; a Model Q2 hold-out blaster pistol in Mr. Red's right hand pointing at where the Rodian had once stood.

"Now everyone gets more share of the contract," Mr. Red said aloud as he looked around at the thugs, "Unless, a course, you want to share his fate."

The thugs stood there a moment longer before the droid went forward and started unchaining Lasso and his comrades.

"Where to?" Lasso heard Mr. Red ask the cold woman in the back as he was escorted out.

"Coruscant," she replied, "The Emperor has requested it."

"As you wish Emperor's Hand."

Emperor's Hand? Jason thought to himself. What was that? Clearly, it was Imperial. But Lasso had never heard of that title before.


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


Lasso and his charge were escorted through the jungle path North of the Octagon, heading deeper and deeper into the forest that all people of Port Haven knew not to trek through. The beasts in these forests were...unforgiving. The hired thugs, for their part, seemed to share the idea of not walking through the forest their scared faces echoed such a thought process. The woman and Mr. Red, however, walked as confident as ever through the dangerous jungle. Mr. Red was bringing up the rear with 2 of the thugs, then both the Major and Mr. Biggs, another of the thugs, Lasso, the young woman, and then a thug walking up ahead as a point guard; the Lannik was the one thug told of where they were going clearly.

"So," Lasso spoke up to the red-headed woman just in front of him, "If your going to kill me, why don't you tell me a few things to make the end of my life easier?"

The woman snorted as she looked back over her shoulder, "Why would I do that? In the off chance you escape, my whole purpose for coming here is then at risk of being exposed."

"Your an Imperial, I know that much."

There was a pause. So her youthful age did bring some inexperience.

"What makes you say that?"

Lasso smirked, "You should really know who your capturing before you do it. I'm a historian, well self-proclaimed side hobby historian at least, but one none-the-less. And I saw your lightsaber on your belt. If Order 66 is to be believed in all its facts, then the Jedi were wiped out at the end of the Clone Wars. So, that leaves two possibilities. Either A, your a Sith, since the Jedi are dead. Or B, your a Jedi running from the Empire. Since, from what I studied, the Jedi had better bed-side manners then you, I would put you in the category of the Sith. Which would mean you work for the Empire."

"And if your sources are wrong?"

"I don't study history to be clueless, ma'am," Jason replied, "I make sure I study from a number of resources before forming my thoughts on history, especially considering the Imperial era."

"I see. And if I claim to not be a Sith or a Jedi? Where does that leave your history work then?"

"Well, considering Captain Obviously named Mr. Red spelled the beans already, I would say your with the Empire. It would be hard for him to balance 3 double agent jobs, its like having 3 affairs. Sooner or later, your going to slip up and find yourself on a talk show called Jerry Springer. So, that leads me to two other conclusions. Your either an Imperial or Rebel agent if not a Sith. At least an agent who has a thing with lightsabers for some odd reason, maybe you like to collect them like rocks or something. Considering, from my experience, Rebels are nicer then Imperials on a general scale, unless your a double-crossing son-of-a-Hutt like Mr. Red back there, then your an Imperial."

"Interesting. And if I am neither of those?"

"Highly impossible, considering the run-ins we've had with the Imperials lately. Or your Black Sun or some form of bounty hunter collecting on us Mercs. If it was just me, then you would of let these two other men with me go."

"And if they have warrants against them that warrant my attention whether I'm Imperial, Rebel, Black Sun, or a bounty hunter?"

Lasso shrugged, "You have a point there."

Up ahead was a clearing and a YU-410 light freighter could be seen in the clearing, two lights over each front bay giving a eerie glow in the early evening hours where the sun hadn't quite disappeared yet. While Lasso was sure his brother Palso would have a thing or two to say about the freighter, Jason knew right now what was coming: invasion. Either this lady had a poor choice of freighters, because even Lasso had heard the stories of this ship's poor engines, or she, like everyone else, had used the easily modified Corellian ships to her advantage, added in powerful engines and had converted those cargo bays into troop and logistic bays. If she hadn't, then she was a farmer dropping off produce in the wrong direction from Port Haven's safer landing sites.

"Well, that confirms it. Your no farmer selling produce," Lasso said as the lengthy group came to an halt.

"Oh? And why is that not possible?"

"Your ship...it looks too shiny. Out here on the Rim, where resources and the Empire is scarce, good luck in keeping your ship up to date like that."

"Okay, this is it?" the woman thug asked, "I sure hope our money included a land speeder hidden within that ship there. Because there is no way I'm walking back through that jungle alone."

"Your contract specified kidnapping and protection," Mr. Red said, "Not a land speeder."

Suddenly the cargo bays opened on the light freighter and the mechanical servos of 2 AT-STs (1 from each cargo bay) could be heard as they lumbered out of the cargo bays; 45 white-armored Stormtroopers (organized into a platoon) split out of each cargo bay, roughly half their number behind each of the AT-STs. Along in the mix of the stormtroopers were 10 Scout Troopers organized with 5 on 74-Z speeder bikes and 5 on foot with E-11s sniper rifles.

"What is this!" barked the human thug.

"Isn't it obvious?" Mr. Red asked as he shot the human down with his hold-out blaster. Imperial stormtroopers gunned down the rest of the thugs in quick order.

The now clearly Imperial agent woman turned to one of the Stormtroopers, clearly the Stormtrooper in charge, "Lieutenant, the town of Port Haven is an illegal Shadowport and a threat the citizens of the Empire. Destroy it."

"Yes, ma'am!" The Stormtrooper said to her through his helmet vocalization system, then looking back and waving the stormtroopers forward from behind them, "Lets move it out!"

As the Imperial forces lumbered away, the servos of the AT-STs and the whine of the 74-Z speeder bikes giving the Imperial armed forced forces a fear factor on the non-expecting town of Port Haven, Lasso turned to the woman and Mr. Red.

"It should be quick," the alien advised, "Most of the people of Port Haven are getting drunk or are drunk."

"You betrayed these people. This was our home! OUR HOME!" Lasso went to charge Mr. Red despite his hand-cuffs, but he suddenlt felt an invisable hand against his chest and he was floating in the air inches off of the ground. The woman Imperial agent had her hand out-stretched.

"I need him alive," she said, using her other hand to call her lightsaber to her hand and ignite the crimson blade with a snap-hiss. "Get on board, all of you. Now."


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


Lasso was strapped down to one of the passenger seats in the cockpit, while Mr. Red, the Major, and Mr. Biggs were located in one of the cargo bays, taking up several of the stromtrooper seats. Clearly the Imperial woman was expecting casualties of her stormtroopers. But as she warmed the engines up, Lasso started to realized that she was leaving all together.

"I know this isn't my place to ask," Jason said from his hand-cuffed to the chair position, "Considering my circumstances and total uncaring thought whether an Imperial Stormtrooper dies or not, but are you just going to leave them? They won't be able to hold the town for long; smugglers, spacers, and mercaries know how to fight, wheather their drunk or not. The actially aim better when their drunk, trust me, I know from being shot at by them. And anyways, if people escape and get others to come here and fight for the town." Lasso decided to leave out the fact that the DD was coming in as well and could add some serious firepower problems to the Imperials' plans.

"Your friends won't be sending any help. Smugglers and the like are extremely selfish to their own ends and will hardly make the effort to save others if it threatens their own skin. As for the Stormtroopers, their Stormtroopers. They have their orders and will follow them," The lady added with extra clear clarification, "Plus, the Empire doesn't see fit to wasting its highly skilled soldiers. So a whole squadron is headed this way to solve the Port Haven problem."

Lasso's face sadden and darkened at the same time. This was their home. Their home! Port Haven had been home to the Mercs---"You won't get away with this," Lasso breathed with anger, "When I escape, I'll hunt you down and kill you with my bare hands. And every Imperial that gets between me and you."

"Don't make threats you can't keep," she replied and the light freighter started to lift off...


TAG Bardan_Jusik

 

IC: Tactical Captain Aron Pauletti, Christophsis dry dock.
Location: Christophsis


Aron looked through a thick transparisteel port across empty space to where his terribly damaged Imperial Star Destroyer, the Imperial Justice, where it was surrounded by floating construction droids, and slow-moving barges were manouvering a new set of decks into place.

He turned from the window. “In addition to the usual bridge shields, I want an additional set with its power running directly through the skin of the command tower, and the ports, not just extending a few inches out, like the main shield array.”

The senior engineer in front of him, whistled cautiously. “That is not usual policy, Captain.”

Aron glared. “I don’t care about any of that!” He chopped a hand horizontally between them, “Most of my bridge crew were lost through a breach of the command deck, two engagements ago, something that never happened to aboard the Wraithis. Before I leave your docks, I want some comfort that something has been done so I do not have to worry about my next batch of crew.”

The man nodded. “Alright, I will see what we can do.”

“Yes. See what you can do.” Pauletti stalked off.

Tag: no-one

---

IC: May Formal, stolen V-Wing.
Location: Port Haven

Thank Heaven for sensors, The former Alliance colonist thought to herself as she banked the V-Wing into Port Haven’s atmosphere.

Turned out the Whendyll System had seven planets, and if you did not know where you were going, it would have been pot luck figuring out which one was the right one.

Then she had thought to scan for energy readings, and had picked up a recent ion trail that she had been able to follow to the world where she was just coming through the clouds now, seeing the sun glittering on the grey-sea below.

When a strip of land, and several low, pre-fabricated buildings came into view, backed by a dense jungle, she started to feel self-conscious about the blatant Imperial logos on either side of her canopy.

If these people were indeed scum and lowlife, they might react negatively to an Imperial-liveried ship arriving, and not wait for explanations.

“Ar-Four, are you able to land this thing safely?” She asked aloud, intending her words to be for the astromech whose dome was behind the canopy, between the two vertical S-foils.

Better than you!

“Alright, land us on that beach, please. On the sand.”

I know what a beach is.

The Arkateenian said nothing more. Until she could pay for a memory wipe, the droid was going to be in a mood all day.

She relaxed as the droid took control, and basked in the warmth as the sun heated the cockpit, although dusk was coming on fast as they approached the beach for a landing.

Hello. This could be interesting.

Mary perked up. Out the canopy, she could see a ship lifting from the jungle. “You found something?”

Just picked up something on the scanners. AT-STs and a sith-load of stormtroopers. In the jungle back there.

She jerked back on the control stick, but the craft refused to respond; the compact fighter continuing inexorably towards the sliver of coastline. “Get us out of here!”

You killed Baille, Slitch. We are landing.

The V-Wing's sudden deceleration slammed the safety webbing into Mary's chest, and the sand came up fast as it dropped to the beach, the landing gear deploying to settle it on the surface. All the lights and controls within the cockpit went dark, leaving Mary in silence and darkness.

Tag: YU-410 light freighter

 

IC: Fress Colias
Hutts Scuttle, Smugglers Run

"Is there anything we or I can do to help make up your mind other than sitting around?"

Fress shook her head as she briefly felt pain come from Cain causing her to frown. “No, I plan to talk it over with Chris first. See what he thinks, he’s higher up on the command staff and just a couple of taverns over,” she paused for a second noticing he was a tad bit uncomfortable around her knowing she had abilities in the Force. “Want to talk about it?”

“I know what it’s like to start over,” Fress commented with a frown. “I was very much in love with someone on the front lines, and Dooku killed him. Daren was under my command and Anakin delivered the news to his parents so I wouldn’t have too. I wasn’t in any shape to let his parents know. Dooku was using Daren in hopes I would call the fleet off. Daren gave me veral permission to allow Dooku to kill him saying the mission had to succeed and Dooku instantly snapped his neck. We had made so many future plans. I guess the Force had other plans for me.”

kommando104

 

IC: Beskaryc Taab
Port Haven

The droid didn't seem to think much of Taab's limited analysis of the facts at hand. Truth was, it just wasn't much to go on, even if Taab hadn't have kept a few minor details to himself. The comm line to the Captain didn't offer them much help either.

"... dump it at the scrapyard. There's nothing we can do about it. If you can find a way to give it a somewhat proper grave site, go ahead. But don't stress over it. Stay at the shuttle...but..." there was a brief pause "You may want to Taab to get over here to the Aces' Club...purely as a means to prevent hostile action and end it if it starts. Lasso out."

Taab wasn't concerned with burial arrangements, but he was with the Skipper's last order to get himself to the Ace's Club. Taab got up out of his seat and placed his helmet back over his head. He really didn't like the no buckets rule instituted among the crew. He was accustomed to seeing the galaxy through his T-Visor, and would use any chance he got here to do so. He headed back to the boarding ramp, addressing the droid. "Give Neb and Al'kesh the good news. Dump the body, I don;t care how. Then sit tight and await further orders." It made Taab feel better to have an experienced pilot and a security man with the ship. They were the group's reserve force should things get nasty out here. Not that Taab expected anything to go wrong, but he always planned for it anyway.

He made his way to the Ace's Club, catching a few wary glances tossed his way but not much more than that. Smugglers here wouldn't be sure if he was on the trail of a bounty, or just struggling mercenary, so it served them well to keep their distance. Taab himself was tagging each building on his HUD as he went by in, making a crude map of the settlement. In his many years as a bounty hunter and soldier he had never had occasion to visit the quaint world that was Port Haven before, a map would come handy later if he wanted to find his way around without having to ask for directions.

Arriving at the Aces' Club, Taab made his way inside and could tell instantly that something was wrong. His crew mates weren't here. Scanning several times from the doorway Taab could find no trace of them, and he doubted they all needed to go to the freshers at the same time. He walked quickly, and with a purpose, to the bar. Patrons scattered from his path. This may be a tough hangout, but there were times that everyone knew you didn't mess with a Mandalorian. The experienced spacers here knew by the way Taab walked that this was one of those times.

Taab placed a cred chip on the bar. "Lasso, the drunk and a man who smelled of swine; tell me where they are." Lekku twitching the twi'lek barkeep quickly palmed the chip before answering. "They haven't been in here, would have seen 'em," he hissed through his sharp teeth. The man's brain tails twitched a few more times. Taab couldn't decipher their meaning, he didn't know Lekku language, but he recognized fear when he saw it. This man was telling the truth. shab.

Taab spun around and left the club. If the barkeep hadn't seen them, then no one else would have either. Even if one of them had it would take too long to find the right one. It was better of Taab could find clues on his own. And find them he did.

All around him, in the dust, dirt and sand that made up the street in front of the Aces' Club were signs of a scuffle. It hadn't been much of one, but the swirls in the dirt showed how the Mercs had been taken by surprise, and either knocked out or drugged into compliance. Drag marks and heavier than normal footfalls indicated where they had been at times dragged, and other times carried away by their kidnappers. shab. Taab was going to think twice about letting the Captain out of his sight after this.

Doing his best to look unconcerned and casual (no easy feat given that to many he looked like a veritable walking armory) Taab began to follow the trail. This was an easy task, even though he preferred real soldiering, he was an accomplished bounty hunter, and these fools, whoever they were, had left a trail that even a Gamorrean could follow. He commed the Luck's Gamble. "Lasso, Totter and Biggs have gone missing. I am currently tracking them Taab out." He didn't bother waiting for a reply, because things now got...confusing.

Taab had arrived at some sort of fight club, not unlike a Mandalorian battle circle, but larger, rowdier and less organized. The trail he had been following were now lost among the tracks left by the multitude coming and going from the arena. It seemed to be a major source of entertainment on this world, and by the sounds coming from the octagon itself, it seemed that today was "fight night", even if it was early afternoon.

Taab made several trips around the perimeter of the club, trying to pick up the trail once again. But he found nothing. He could only conclude that they were inside somewhere. But fighting his way in and out of this place was a no go. Taab certainly knew that he could do it, but he couldn't guarantee the safety of Lasso and the other two crewmen. Of course of it was only the other two he would probably give it a try, and if they died or were injured, well that was the risk they took as mercenaries. But he was being paid extra to keep Lasso safe, storming this place on his own wouldn't accomplish that. Besides he wasn't sure of their exact location anyway.

He would have to wait, until either the fights subsided, or the crew was moved to another location. Taab didn't fear for their safety just yet, they had been kidnapped, not killed outright. that meant whoever had them wanted them for some reason. Whether that was interrogation, or an outstanding bounty, or even as combatants for the fight club. Taab did not yet know. But he knew that for now at least they were relatively safe. So Taab settled in to watch over the Octagon, looking for his charges and the right moment to strike. He commed the Luck's Gamble again. "Stay put, but be ready for my signal."

---

A few hours later.

Taab couldn't believe that the fights had gone on for as long as they had, and they showed no signs of slowing down. By the noise coming from the octagon Taab had determined that none of the men he was looking for were engaged in the fighting against their will. So at least they had that going for them. Still Taab thought to himself, if he didn't see something soon he would be forced to make a move on his own anyway. He was getting ready to send for backup in the form of Al'kesh and even Neb when something caught his eye.

On the far side of the octagon a group of beings was moving off into the jungle. Taab hadn't seen where they had come from but they were certainly suspicious. Zooming in on them through his HUD Taab was clearly able to see the forms of Lasso, Cutter and Biggs, being led by a not unattractive young woman and escorted by a number of thugs. They were moving now, and that made them vulnerable.

Getting in touch with the Luck's Gamble again he set up a visual link, allowing them to see what he could on his HUD. "Have located the Captain, Totter and Biggs, moving in now. Get airborne and home in on my signal." He started to jog off after the targets.

Despite using the trail that they were following, Taab intended to hop to a parallel running one as soon as possible. He would use it to get ahead of the enemy and then ambush them. But in following them Taab quickly learned two things. They weren't watching their backs at all. Instead most of their attention was out on the jungle itself. They feared whatever animal were out here, Taab thought to himself. That extra attention would make it difficult to get out in front of them. He mused for a moment that this place would make an excellent place to take his son hunting someday though, it would provide a challenge to bring down whatever beasts could inspire such fear from the "locals".

So Taab stuck to the winding trail. Keeping well enough back to remain unseen, his carbine at the low ready. Though he would really rather attack them on the move, it just might be easier to make his move after they had arrived at their destination. It might even provide some additional information as to who they were and what interest they had in the Mercs. But the idea that it might be easier after arrival proved to be a false assumption.

Taab came around the last bend in the trail just in time to see a contingent of Stormtroopers gun down a majority of the thugs. Only the red haired woman and the Nautolan were left unscathed, accomplices in whatever scheme the Empire was running now. Shab it all, this kept getting worse. Retreating down the trail a few meters Taab quickly hid back in the undergrowth. The troops now making their way down the trail after him hadn't seen him, and were probably on their way to secure whatever other prisoners they could in town. To Taab though they would be the perfect distraction.

Removing a pair of concussion grenades from a pouch on his belt, Taab quickly set them up on either side of the trail, connected by a bit of tripwire. When the whiteshells walked by, hopefully one of them would trip the wire and at least slow them down a bit as they looked for other mines along the trail as well as alerting the town to the danger coming their way. Taab didn't have a plan yet to deal with two chicken walkers, or the speeder bikes, but defending the town wasn't his concern. Getting the Captain out alive was.

Moving off into the jungle now Taab moved in towards the clearing where the enemy freighter had set down. He was no stranger to this form of warfare, and he managed to move silently and swiftly to his objective, just in time to see the red haired woman extinguish a red bladed lightsaber and board the vessel, after her charges. osik (dung, impolite) Now things were getting really interesting. The boarding ramp closed and the ship began to lift off.

Taab briefly considered his options. He had to keep that ship from leaving, he had no doubts that if it did they would never see Lasso again. The warhead on his jetpack might be able to bring the craft down, especially if he hit in in the right spot as it was lifting off. But he couldn't assure that lasso would survive any crash landing. Taab would have to do this the hard way.

WHUMP, WHUMP.

The sound of two distinct blasts came from the trail. The stormies had run into his makeshift booby trap. the sound of blaster fire could be heard tearing into the jungle now. The surviving troopers fighting off imagined ambushers no doubt. Many would have survived his little trap, but they were busy now. This was his chance.

Checking his HUD to make sure his jetpack was properly primed Taab reached down and took the jetti'kad (lightsaber) trophy from his belt. He had a number of these from his days as a Jedi hunter and they made great trophies. Taab always made sure to carry one on his belt, a badge of honor as one who had fought, and killed, Jedi. Taab had heard that bob'ika (little Boba) had learned to duel quite well with the blasted things, though Taab himself had never gotten the hang of it. Still they made great "master keys."

His jetpack primed, the Stormtroopers distracted, Taab ignited the blade and flew off quickly to the rising freighter. Landing atop its control pod, he plunged the blue bar of plasma downward into it, cutting himself a neat circle to drop through. Falling through he found himself nearly face to face with the red head now, the Captain was bound behind him in one of the passenger seats.

Taab couldn't afford to kill the redhead while she was at the controls of the vessel. It could send them spiraling out of control, killing them all. So instead he brought the blue blade up to her throat, threatening her. "These are my bounties, go find your own."

TAG: Bravo.

---

IC: Atin Taab
Prime Idiot, Skip One, Smuggler's Run

"Alright. We could use someone like you, why don't you head to where this flyer states, you can assist the scout with feeling out potential recruits. Tell her Streets sent you." Figuring that Streets would hire him on the spot, Atin was silently surprised that the Ryn was being sent off to Fress. Her mission, her decision the Mandalorian supposed, but his own thoughts were cut off by Dom's parting words.

"You don't really need me, do you? "Do you? But, maybe I could be useful? Remember, as I said, I told you a truth with some fairytale. But did I tell you all the fairytale and all the truth? Riddles and fact, mazes and truth, mirrors and light, is life...you must decide, which one am I? Which one are you? Because, can you trust yourself? Or anyone?"

The words rolled around in his bucket for a moment. Atin knew he could trust his father, well he was mostly sure. The recent revelation to him that his father had fought against troops he had previously trained still bothered Atin greatly. It made him wonder what would happen if he and his father were on opposite ends of a shooting war someday. Atin felt he knew the answer to that one, and decided not to dwell on it.

The Chiss brought him back to the present, with a back handed gesture he stood up and began to move off to the next location. "Lets resume." Without a word, Atin followed him still thinking about just who he could, and couldn't, trust here.

TAG: Mitth_Fisto (other Smugglers Run bunch indirectly).

 

IC: Cain Varss
Hutt's Scuttle, Skip One, Smuggler's Run

Those names didn’t mean much to Cain, but they obviously meant something to her. Dooku, he was part of the CIS wasn’t he? One of the leaders if I remember correctly. I think he was a Jedi before the war too. Daren was brave to take him on. “That sounds awful, and I'm sorry for your loss, though I'm glad you are here. I definitely need the job," Cain said smiling genuinely. The smile disappeared from his face as he reflected. "I can sympathize...” Cain trailed off.

The story flashed through Cain’s head quickly. I still can't believe how close I was to pulling the trigger...I might as well have though. If she did not love me, she would not have acted so boldly. Cain coughed, clearing his throat, "Thank you for the concern, ma'am, but there's not much to tell. I messed up and lost the life...," Cain hesitated slightly, trying to pick the direction to go in, "of one of my pilots. She was...a good friend," he lied, but only partially. "Her name was Kate. One of the few in service of the Empire with an actual conscience. Many TIE pilots were ravenous and blood thirsty, or apathetic at best, but not Kate." Cain smiled, remembering her beautiful face and red hair. The only thing that kept Cain semi-sane was remembering the good times he had with her, and how much he loved her. He didn't realize it back then, but he did now. Too little, too late. The pain flooded back. "Anyway, with all due respect ma'am, I'd rather not continue with the subject," he said, trying to keep his emotions grounded and somewhat stable.

"So your...abilities. How much do they tell you?" asked Cain, curious. He had met a Jedi once when he was very young, before the Clone Wars, and hadn't interacted with one since, and with the Empire's intentional destruction of files related to the Jedi, there was not a lot of info out there beyond stories and legends.

Tag: JediFalcon

 

IC: Fress Colias
Hutts Scuttle Skip One Smugglers Run

"So your...abilities. How much do they tell you?"

Fress shook her head with a slight smile. “Not as much as you think. I have visions and some of your feelings come through to me,” she knew he wanted the subject dropped and she felt this was the love of his life killed. “Limited telepathy, telekinesis, levitation, extra speed. If I want to I can pick apart your memories but there would be nothing left, that’s of the dark side and not a very good idea to do to someone.”

kommando104

 

IC: Cap'n Dunn (nrc), Mary Formal (npc), Free Trader's Alleyway, north of Port Haven settlement
Location: Port Haven


Dunn was out in front of his ramshackle store, Dunn's Mercantile, even before the twin thundercracks had died away, and along with several other people, was looking towards the jungle, even though that involved staring pensively at the ten metre-high permacrete walls that stopped the jungle from overflowing into the wide alleyway.

"What in Flamewind was that?"

"Sounded like an explosion." Responded someone else standing around.

As usual, he was dressed in dark boots and trousers, and a white officer's tunic with gold braid on the shoulders, was open to show off his flat, sweat-wreathed stomach.
Abo that had sold it to him, claimed it belonged to an admiral in the Corporate Sector navy, but it was enough to keep the other locals calling him "captain".

"Sir? Hello? Captain?"

Dunn turned at the female voice, and looked to see an unfamiliar blonde femme with colourful sleeveless top, miniskirt and dark ripped stockings, and weighed down with an over the shoulder bag, a diagonal synthrope arrangement holding an E-11 blaster rifle, and in one hand, somehow, holding one of those Q7 spherical astromechs in one hand, which they should be too heavy for, even though, as a sort of concession to logic, the tendons on her left wrist looked painfully taut. "Hello, Missy." He smiled at her in the dusk light. "May I help you?"

"Oh, thank goodness you are not closed for the night." She brought her left hand up like she was doing a weight jerk. "How much is a memory wipe?"

"Fifteen credits."

Looking weighed down, Mary brought the bag over her right shoulder, and dropped it between her feet, in front of her. "I have medicine to sell, and then when I have enough funds together, I will come back."

Dunn leered. "Or, you know, we could work something out."

Formal peered at him. "In what way?"

Tag: Port Haven folk, stormtroopers

 

IC: Jason Lasso
Octagon underground, Port Haven (early evening, around 5pm)


The sudden decompression in the cockpit made Lasso's coat all feathers and flatters as the air was sucked out of the gaping hole. Alarms sounds in the cockpit accompanied by flashes red and yellow lights on the various control boards.

"These are my bounties, go find your own."

While Lasso was no bounty, and he knew it, he was able to catch onto Taab's meaning with his armor; most spacers associated bounty hunters with Mando armor...thanks to Boba Fett. This woman wouldn't know the difference...probably.

As the wind wiped around in the cockpit, Lasso watched in disbelief as various controls on the control boards were used with no physical touch just outside of Taab's view---though Lasso thought Taab probably knew what was going on. Suddenly the ship lurched a little and continued in a straight path upwards.

"Great," Lasso muttered, knowing what the woman was trying to do. A classical game of chicken. If Taab or her didn't reach the controls fast enough, then the ship would enter the planet's upper atmosphere and if they weren't already dead because of a lack of oxygen, they would burn alive as flames licked into the cockpit as they climbed through the planet's atmosphere towards space. If Taab destroyed the controls, then they would spiral out of control towards the ground.

Suddenly, the woman clutched her fist and Taab's lightsaber was forced against his extremely strong will away from the woman's throat. "I don't take threatening kindly," she said flatly, Taab's lightsaber now a safe distance from her throat. She loosened her crash webbing and got up, Taab's lightsaber hanging in the air as if he was forcing his will against an invisible wall. She used her free hand to use---what Jason thought----was the Force to withdraw her lightsaber from its black on his belt and ignite the crimson red blade.

Restrained to a passenger seat, Lasso was helpless. He just hoped they weren't going to use those lightsabers like baseball bats, miss, and take his head off.


TAG Bardan_Jusik
OOG: Sith, I'll get to your tag ASAP. Need to jump on some homework first. Jusik, I hope you didn't mind the intro...Mara Jade is all yours to NPC.

 

IC: Imperial Stormtroopers
Port Haven

The Imperial Stormtrooper platoon came armed and ready for combat:

Command
Lieutenant: E-11 Blaster Rifle (attached to Squad 5)
Sergeant Major: DLT-19 heavy blaster rifle (attached to Squad 1)

Squad One (deployed East of settlement; 9 stormtroopers)
Sergeant Major: DLT-19 heavy blaster rifle
Staff Sergeant: RT-97C heavy blaster rifle
Sergeant: E-11 Blaster Rifle
Corporal: T-21 light repeating blaster
Lance Corporal: E-11 Blaster Rifle
Private: DLT-20A blaster rifle
Private: DLT-20A blaster rifle
Private: Missile launcher / E-11 Blaster Rifle
Private: Imperial Heavy Repeater

Squad Two (deployed East of settlement; 9 stormtroopers)
Staff Corporal: T-21 light repeating blaster
Staff Sergeant: RT-97C heavy blaster rifle
Sergeant: RT-97C heavy blaster rifle
Corporal: DLT-20A blaster rifle
Lance Corporal: E-11 Blaster Rifle
Private: E-11 Blaster Rifle
Private: Missile launcher / E-11 Blaster Rifle
Private: FC-1 flechette launcher / E-11 Blaster Rifle
Private: Imperial Heavy Repeater


Squad Three (deployed flank; North West; 9 stormtroopers)
Sergeant: DLT-19 heavy blaster rifle
Corporal: T-21 light repeating blaster
Lance Corporal: DLT-20A blaster rifle
Lance Corporal: RT-97C heavy blaster rifle
Private: E-11 Blaster Rifle
Private: E-11 Blaster Rifle
Private: E-11 Blaster Rifle
Private: E-11 Blaster Rifle
Private: E-11 Blaster Rifle (deceased from concussion explosion)

Squad Four (deployed flank; North East; 9 stormtroopers)
Sergeant: E-11 Blaster Rifle
Corporal: DLT-19 heavy blaster rifle
Lance Corporal: T-21 light repeating blaster
Lance Corporal: RT-97C heavy blaster rifle
Private: DLT-20A blaster rifle
Private: E-11 Blaster Rifle
Private: E-11 Blaster Rifle
Private: E-11 Blaster Rifle
Private: E-11 Blaster Rifle (deceased from concussion explosion)

Squad Five (deployed artillery and heavy assault with AT-STs; North of settlement; 9 stormtroopers)
Lieutenant: E-11 Blaster Rifle
Sergeant: RT-97C heavy blaster rifle
Corporal: T-21 light repeating blaster
Lance Corporal: T-21 light repeating blaster
Lance Corporal: Missile launcher / E-11 Blaster Rifle
Private: Missile launcher / E-11 Blaster Rifle
Private: Missile launcher / E-11 Blaster Rifle
Private: FC-1 flechette launcher / E-11 Blaster Rifle
Private: RT-97C heavy blaster rifle

Total: 45 / 2 deceased / 43 left


Despite the booby trap earlier, their armor was designed for this, and only two troopers fell dead despite the massive explosion. While a brief succession of blaster fire filled the air, the veterans in the platoon slowed the younger soldiers' nerves and the stormtroopers went forward. The platoon was ready---and smart. Intel provided from Mr. Red provided the fact that the Octagon was the local place to be and be there early, before the on-lookers were too drunk to enjoy the event, since drinking was always the "main event" late at night at Port Haven wherever you were. Port Haven wasn't huge, but had a good size to it. So, the stormtroopers did what they did best: used their superior skills and tactics. The five snipers were sent up ahead covertly to find breaks in the wall and ways to get in around the settlement and set up explosives and traps. Two squads (18 men, 16 men with losses) were sent to each far flank and set up a line for defense towards the freighter and a line of offense towards Port Haven in an arrow formation. Their orders were to remain unseen and quiet until told so. Two more squads (full strength 18 men total) were sent up ahead along the edge of the settlement on the East side (opposite the beach, by the jungle) to lay in silent wait for orders.

The rest of the troops stayed back (1 squad, 9 men), with heavy artillery.

Finding the Octagon as their target, the AT-STs and heavy artillery from squad 5 released a rain of destruction on the Octagon from a safe distance away, where the majority of the Port Haven residents found themselves for the night; the surrounding defense walls took a beating as well. 2 Scout Trooper speeder bikes guard the far rear of the heavy artillery, while 3 Scout Trooper speeder provided an advanced scout/skirmish line ahead of the heavy artillery.

Just as the heavy artillery opened up (5 Scout Trooper snipers were in the trees across the settlement to the East), explosives hastily planted by 5 sniper scouts exploded, ripping 5 gaping holes into the East defense walls and, soon-there-after, white armored stormtroopers rushed through the newly made entry ways.

Objectives were clear: once the Octagon was leveled, squad 5 and squad 3 would advance with the AT-STs around the debris and through the defense walls, while squad 4 would split their forces in half and take up a rear defensive action North of the Octagon and East of the settlement. 3 biker scouts would support the North advance, while 2 biker scouts would reposition to the East side of the settlement and provide a defensive rear screen for the snipers, squad 4, and the East advance. The Imperials' objectives were the watch towers, freighters, public hangers, and any armed resistance.

Once all resistance was put down, a defensive and occupation deployment would be put into the town to ensure a secure site until Imperial reinforcements arrived.

With the sunlight fading, the Imperials also had the technology advantage in low visibility and night fight, as well as coordinated military tactics against a group of thieves, smugglers, and other rogues, which most were intoxicated....


TAG Sith-I-5, Bardan_Jusik

 

IC: SG-12, Imperial Intelligence analyst, Hoverscout, Imperial Garrison vehicle bay
Location: Malastare


Within the cramped interior of the Mekuun Hoverscout, the Sabre Guard watched with anticipation as another MSE-6 mouse droid arrived within the vehicle, and rolled up to nearest analyst, who leaned over his own armrest, to peel something off the top of the brick-like droid’s black carapace.

The Intell’ man tossed something small and metal to Twelve, the object clanging tinnily as it landed in his lap.

Twelve picked it up between thumb and forefinger, and looked at it. “And, what is this supposed to be?”

“So you can start dismantling that chair you are on, so you can stand up.”

“Keep baiting the Sabre Guard,” Twelve chided sourly, “It’s all fun and games till someone loses a head.”

The control board in front of the prankster bleeped once, distracting him from the Force-imbued soldier. “Hello. This could be interesting.”

“What is it?”

“It means something that draws attention.”

Twelve regarded the man coolly. He was getting the definite impression that the assignation had not been random, that Chief Magistrate Sturn had seconded this or'dinii, this fool, to him deliberately.
He silently reigned in his emotions, knowing that it took a lot for him to even start thinking in Mando'a. “Yeah, keep it up. I may come across as having more patience than Alderaan Polysapie-” He paused, remembering the Tarkin-sponsored disaster. At least neither of his assistants were natives, so he didn't have to apologise. “Funny how something sounds alright in your head.”

The analyst waved impatiently. “Yes, yes, frag all that. You know how we are trawling for any information on shadowports, right? Few standard hours ago, an Emperor’s Hand-”

Twelve nodded, remembering Sard's brief about the high-level operatives, just that day.

“-walked into the Cademimu Sector capital, and persuaded the local Moff to part with a sizeable force with which to take Port Haven in the Whendyll System.”

There was no need to ask what Port Haven was. “It might be nothing. The Empire’s remit is no doubt to deal with such places, keep down piracy and smuggling.”

The analyst frowned and waggled an open hand, palm down. “The Navy, yes. But a Hand won’t even get out of bed for something like that. Most smugglers, pirates, rank less than a night-time pee for an Emperor’s Hand. No, something is going down, Sir, and I'd bet fifty creds that your Mercs are involved in some way.”

“Call Captain Sard on the hypercomm; have him meet me there. Have Arakyd hold fire on those probe droids. And ready my ship!” Twelve instructed with a glint in his eyes, glaring down at the armrest that he was wedged between, as if daring them to try to hold him back.
With groans of strained metal, both sides moved aside like the palm trees on Thunderbird Island. “We riiide!”

Tag: no-one

 

IC: Mary Formal (npc), Cap’n Dunn (nrc), Dunn’s Mercantile, Free Trader’s Alleyway
Location: Port Haven


Allowing the bare-chested man to lead the way, Mary followed him inside the store.

The environment had not been kind to the shack, and lights from outside could be seen between the warped wooden slats that made up the walls.

Dunn moved behind the counter, continuing the barter once he turned round to face her. “My bed is in the back, how about you come warm it for me.”

Mary suppressed her impatience. This man was going to end up getting her killed! She was already aware of the urgency after her close encounter earlier.
If a Close Encounter of the First Kind was observation, Second was evidence, and Third was contact, she reckoned a grisly stormtrooper helmet arcing out of the sky and bouncing off her craft’s nose had to be all three at once. She crooked her index finger at him. “Alright, gimme the copper frying pan bed-warmer thingy, and I’ll try and find some hot coals.”

“No! This!” Dunn did a little jump, and managed to abbreviate the suggestive part of the Time Warp dance move, hands on hips, crotch thrust towards her.

“Ohhh! Rumpy Pumpy!”

“Yes!”

Mary stepped forwards and slapped Houdinickabollockoff onto the counter, where it flashed coloured lights at the storekeeper. “Mind wipe Ar-Four first, then Rumpy.”

“No. Rumpy, then mind wipe.”

She sighed. “How ‘bout a compromise, Captain Dunn; you set the memory wipe going, and then you can entertain me in your boudoir while the process is running.”

Dunn considered this. “Alright.” He lifted Houdi’ with both hands to carry it over into a dark corner of the room. There was the sounds of muffled shouting outside the walls. “Drinking has started early.” He put the droid on a rusting pedestal, and started to attach leads. “So, how deep do you want the cache reset to be? Back to factory settings?”

“Heck no. I still want it to do hyperspace jumps, and other shipboard stuff.” She started looking round the place, seeing that the wares included electro-binoculars, compasses, powerpacks, various accoutrements.

Mary spun towards the sound of Houdi’ blatting something harsh at the man, who to her surprise had stepped back from the noisy globe.

“It says I’ll be dead in a few minutes!”

Mary sighed again, this time putting some drama into the sound. “Now you see why I want him wiped? I let him watch True Lies once too often, and now he thinks he’s been captured by galactic revolutionaries, tied to a chair, and pumped with truth serum. In a minute, he’ll be telling you that thing over there is an ice cream maker, and that I killed his former mistress.”

[Doo-weet!]

“Ya see!” Mary watched anxiously as the Cap’n attached all the leads, and fussed over the grimy controls on the pedestal. “You really should consider getting yourself a cleaner. Probably sell more stuff.” She wondered what had happened to the forty-odd other stormtroopers that the droid had mentioned earlier.

She hoped they held off long enough for to get the droid cooperating again. If not, she would have to see if she could blag a ride from one of the other ships she had seen parked along the beach.

“Okay, the cycle has started.”

Mary allowed the storekeeper to take her arm, and lead her through beaded curtains into the cramped area at the back.

* * * *

It was less than half-an-hour later, and Mary was kneeling astride the shopkeeper, catching up on the months of celibacy she had been forced to endure on Flitter, while he lay on his back, caressing hers.

WHOOMP!

The bed and shack shuddered.

“Did the earth move for you too?” She whispered into his ear.

WHOOMP! The noise, this time, was from the other side of the store.

"That wasn't an orgasm;" Dunn realised aloud, gripping his customer above both hips in preparation to lift her off. "Something hit us."

WHOOMP!

Sighing, Mary leaned back against the rough wall, and pulled the hot grubby sheet up to cover herself, while Dunn struggled to pull his trousers and boots on.

From outside, the sounds of blaster fire, shouts, another WHOOMP that sounded and felt further away, but she could see that the shack wasn't going to take much more.

Dunn cocked his head to listen as he pulled on his officer's tunic. "Sith-spit! E-11s. A lot of them. It's the Empire."

“Will the memory wipe be finished?”

Dunn ignored her, and grabbed up a cloth-wrapped object, quickly stripping off the brown covering to reveal a shiny energy pistol.

“What the hell is that?” She asked, curious despite the situation.

"This? The http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Penetrator_MB-450_sporting_blaster_pistol]Luxan[/url] Penetrator" He stopped with his hand on the door frame that led to the shopfront, "If you absolutely, positively, need a handgun that sounds like one half of a sex act, accept no substitute. Now get dressed."

“Will the memory wipe be finished?” Mary called after the man, but he was gone, leaving her alone in the hut.

She probably had scant seconds before stormtroopers, well stormed, in, and hurriedly cast about for her top and her blaster carbine.

To be continued...

 

IC: Beskaryc Taab/Mara Jade (NPC)
Port Haven, riding the Valkyrie.

Taab's eyes widened slightly behind his T-Visor as an invisible force slowly pushed the lightsaber he was holding away from the woman's throat. It was the force of course, but in his years Taab had never seen it used quite that way. Of course he hand't threatened a spoonbender before, usually he just attacked and let things fall where they may. But the current situation hadn't allowed for that. Taab caught the subtle movements of the controls as the ship pitched upwards, clawing its way towards open space. If it were only Taab he would have laughed off such a concern, his beskar'gam could withstand the inevitable results, at least for a short time. Long enough to be rescued by the Luck' Gamble at any rate.

But he didn't have just himself to worry about, his job was to protect the Skipper, and leaving atmo would be fatal to him with the ship in its present condition. Any attempt to take control of the ship would be suicide, with his attention divided the red haired woman would kill him in an instant. Likewise fighting her here in the cockpit would be too dangerous. Any blaster bolts fired at her would be deflected, and a stray deflection could damage either Lasso, or the controls needed to bring the ship back under control. A duel would be less then useless, aside from endangering the Captain, Taab himself wasn't skilled in the use of a jetti'kad (lightsaber).

Taab had managed to land in a position somewhat between the Captain and his captor, shielding him somewhat, but with him tied up in a chair Taab couldn't take that risk. Nor could he use the same trick he had used against Two Thumbs on the Luck's Gamble, here the high backed chairs blocked the line of sight from his knee pad dart launchers to the target. Removal of the Skipper from the ship would prove difficult, if not impossible, with the Force user in such close proximity, and this position was untenable. He would have to change the battlefield.

These options and others flashed through Taab's brain in an instant. Honed by years of combat experience what came next was more instinct then the result of conscious thought. "I don't take threatening kindly," she said as cool as a glacier on Hoth, her now ignited lightsaber provided all the punctuation she needed. Taab responded by removing a large knife from its sheath with his free (left) hand, jabbing it deeply into the armrest of the chair in which Lasso was restrained, with a loud THUD as if claiming him. "Then don't take my stuff".*

Now Taab sprang into action. Leaving the knife in the chair he quickly drew one of his Westar-34's and fired a string of bolts in rapid succession. But none were fired in the vicinity of the woman, instead his target was the transparisteel cockpit window off to his side. The bolts ripped into the canopy, blasting a large part of it outward. Dropping the blaster as well as the now deactivated lightsaber, Taab hurled himself through the hole. He twisted around as he exited the ship, noting the stunned look that momentarily crossed the red head's face. He smiled under his buy'ce (helmet), firing his fibercord whip at her. His aim was true as it wrapped itself around her and then dragged her out of the ship along with him.

TAG: Bravo

OOC: *Iron Man, The Avengers (2012)

---

Taab didn't expect the whip would hold her long, but at least he had removed her from the situation. Taab was confident that Lasso would make use of the weapons he had left behind to effect his own escape. He was sure the Nautolan would be coming forward to the cockpit to see what the ruckus was quite soon. Even if he did not, the damaged vessel would have to put down to either affect repairs, or transfer the Captain to another ship. Taab could go back and attempt another rescue then.

That's if he survived his current predicament. Checking an altimeter in his HUD he found he was still several thousand meters above ground level, and the red haired agent was still attached to him via his fibercord whip. He had certainly been in better situations in his career, but at least this was manageable. He continued watching his altimeter, he would light off his jetpack as he got closer to the ground. That would slow his descent enough to land without breaking anything. He couldn't have ignited it in the confined cockpit of the freighter anyway, the back blast would have fried the Captain.

His other problem was the red haired woman. Taab didn't now who she was, but she was commanding a contingent of Imperial troops and wielding a red lightsaber. Taab had met Vader before on a few "prisoner transfers" in the past and he knew that ol' wheezy also carried a similar weapon. This must be one of the Emperor's other agents, perhaps even one of his dreaded Hands. Taab was well
connected enough to have heard whispers of their existence, though he had never encountered one.

Slewing his view off in her direction Taab saw that she had managed to cut herself free of the fibercord whip. All he saw was the frayed ends flailing in the wind, which he released from his gauntlet with the flick of a switch. This was not unexpected, he never thought he would manage to keep her trapped with the cord, at least he had gotten her away from the Captain. But where was she now?

That question was answered as she hit him with a THWACK, grappling onto his arms with her own she tried to wrap her legs around his as they fell. Taab grunted at the impact, the woman couldn't have weighed all that much but Taab guessed that she had used the Force to augment the strength of their collision. The two of them tumbled through the air as they fell, Taab trying his best to rid himself of her, while she held on tight, ensuring that she would be spared along with him when he fired off his jetpack.

Despite all his efforts she managed to hold on tight, and even maneuvered herself "in front" of him, holding herself close to him in what would have been a lover's embrace in any other circumstance. Her long hair whipped around them as he headbutted her several times, but his hard beskar (mandalorian iron) helmet failed to break her grip. Things were happening fast now, and the ground was rushing up towards them. With an eyeblink Taab lit off his jetpack, flying them even farther to the north and controlling the remainder of their descent.

Another eyeblink and a blade ejected from his gauntlet, he punched this at his assailant, but she let go before it could hit home. Taab was surprised for a moment, then he realized how close to the ground they were. He cut power to the jetpack was still going too fast. He hit the ground hard, and went into a combat roll to help distribute its jarring impact. Keeping his HUD locked on the woman he saw her flip through the air several times before alighting gently to the ground, no doubt using the force to slow herself further and cushion her landing.

Taab got up quickly, and unslung his carbine now. They had come down in the middle of the jungle, several kilometers north of where the freighter had origianly landed. Taab had at least given Lasso and his crew mates a fighting chance at escape, and if he could kill or delay this Hand (as he was now sure she was one) their chances would be even greater yet. Her lightsaber re-ignited now the Hand looked to him again, but where once her gaze was cool now there was a fire in her eyes. Taab brought up his carbine, his finger pressing against the trigger rapidly. The fight was on, time for round two.

to be continued...

 

IC: Jason Lasso
Out of control freighter, air, Port Haven (evening, around 6pm)


The offered combat knife---accompanied by the back and forth discussion of who Lasso belonged to at the moment between Taab and the woman---was a welcome help. Either Taab was extremely lucky or he had done this short of rescue thing before. The depth of the impact of the combat knife jarred into the armrest, which turned out to be more cheap factory material then a full metal armrest, went through the bottom of the armrest just enough to be useful to Lasso. With the Hollywood themed escape complete, Lasso didn't waste time. He moved his hand-cuffed hands (that were around the armrest) towards the blade and, angling his wrists and hoping he didn't slip and slice himself, started moving his hands back and forth, forcing the safety tie-like material to rub up against the sharp blade.

And just in time.

The door to the cockpit slid open and a organic rushed in as if in a panic. Lasso cleared the chair and ran full body into the organic form without looking. The grunt from the man was all that was needed, not to mention a satisfactory sound of break of the organic's ribs, as both organics collapsed to the floor, a metal object clattering to the floor and Jason quickly grabbing for it.

Giving time to look, it was Mr. Red. The two Port Haven normals locked eyes for a brief second as they clattered up from the floor.

"You fool!" the alien bit out, pointing to the cockpit, "The controls!"

Through the cockpit viewport, the sky was beginning to part ways and stars were forming more clearly.

While Lasso wanted to see the alien dead for his betrayal, he was sure the Empire would see to that themselves in good time. Right now, someone had to turn the freighter around, while the other rescued the Mercs. Turning around and grabbing the knife, Lasso said to the alien, "My affects?"

"Cargo Hold 1. But now Mr. Lasso, you---" the alien's face when pale as his hand grasped at an empty holder for his hold-out blaster. The familiar wine of his hold-out, now being held by Lasso, made his pale face go ghostly white, even if that was possible for a green skinned alien.

Jason smiled, "Nice try. I would kill you, but doing so, would not enable my escape as I need someone to pilot us to the ground. So, you save both our skins and I rescue my comrades. But, I will kill you. Mark my words."

As Jason backed out of the cockpit, he blasted the interior controls with a quick shot, and jumping out in time, as the cockpit blast door slammed shut, locking itself as an emergency feature. Jason blasted the exterior controls to make double sure.

Running through the ship, hoping to find no more Imperials (and he didn't), Lasso entered Cargo Bay 1, found his affects, and got both the Major and Mr. Biggs free.

"Took you long enough," Biggs said.

"A simple thank you would work," Lasso replied as the group made their way to the escape pods.

Lasso tossed Biggs the blaster pistol and Major the knife, informing the latter that the knife belonged to Taab, and the group made sure to collect spare Imperial weapons and energy packs on their way out too Soon, they were away, the freighter doing a awkward emergency landing some distance away deeper in the jungle.



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

Jungle, Port Haven


"I've heard many a story of these jungles," Biggs was saying, "Not my fancy to be here long, ya hear?"

"Well," Lasso said, checking his A280 blaster rifle as he slung it over his jacket and across his chest, "Its either here or burning up right now."

"Aye," Biggs said, "A poor fate for any lad either way."

"There's no beer or rum," the Major complained, climbing out of the escape pod from behind them, "You'd think they would have some! Ya know, a way to party your last few days of life away as you await a rescue party that never comes!"

"Well, that's a cheerful way to look at life," Jason replied.

"Aye. Can you shoot straight Major?"

"Mr. Biggs, to your dismay, I sobered up some time ago."

"Aye. I wished I'd be drunk right now, as I walked through this jungle."

The sounds of explosions and blaster fire directly ahead of them to the West made all turn that way, "Well," Jason commented sourly, "At least we know where Port Haven is. Come on!"


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

Port Haven outskirts


"Where be Taab?" Biggs whispered as the three of them took up positions along a small crumble break in the wall near the Low Security Public Hangers.

"What?" Jason asked, "You don't think we can handle it?"

"Nay. He took on that red haired woman you say. That makes him the better of us three. And I'm the cook anyhow."

"Welcome to the front lines then," the Major replied.

"Nay," Biggs said, "More like a reunion with my old trade young'n. Cook'n was ever only a hobby. Back in my youth, many a fighting I be doing."

"Lasso to Luck's Gamble. Status?" Jason asked into his wrist comlink.

"Good to hear from you Captain!" Ler replied, "We've been tracking the freighter and Taab since. Taab evaced planet side with the red haired woman. We haven't heard from him since. The Imperials have taken a handle on the Octagon and East parts of the town, but are fighting building to building everywhere else. Free Trader's Alley has turned into a choke point for the Imps and their fighting for every inch to advance."

"Port Haven Security must be holding their own with Hallomar and whoever else can fight. Suggestions?"

"No use in fighting Cap. Aside from Free Trader's Alley, Port Haven has no steady resistance. A few pockets here and there in the town proper, but most people were at the Octagon. The Imps are advancing nonetheless, building for building if it may be."

"Sith. Okay, lets pull out. This is nothing more then an advance party I think. The Imperials wouldn't be stupid enough to send a platoon in unsupported. The big guns are yet to show up and when they do, we need to be far away from here. What's our fuel status?"

"Unless we want to risk Imperial stormtroopers to reach the fuel depots, we don't have enough to make it out of system. The Bespin trip used most of our fuel."

"Frag it. We'll have to wait it out in the jungle, maybe get fuel from that downed freighter. Wait, what about the Eleventh Hour?"

"She's waiting out of system, Captain. Unless we comm them, they won't come in system and have no idea what is happening."

"And do we risk their lives for the sake of fuel if an Imperial fleet drops in over their heads?" Lasso replied the unsaid statement, "Okay, evac towards the jungle and try to find and pick up Taab on the way. Fly opposite direction, then loop around out of sensor range to the crashed freighter. We'll meet you there."

"Copy, Captain. What do you plan on doing?"

"We need to get Hallomar out before its too late. He's Taller's identical twin in being stubborn and will go down fighting unless we do something about it. If Hallomar dies, Port Haven dies."

"Copy. If you need us, you know what to do. Luck's Gamble out."

"Okay," Lasso said to his 2 comrades as the comlink call ended, lowering his wrist and peering through the crumbled section of wall, seeing the distant blaster fire in the town proper. The South side of the settlement seemed untouched so far, but also there was a lack of refugees fleeing to their ships as well. In the distance, Lasso watched as the Luck's Gamble's engine arrays flared up the night sky and raced away, a few blaster bolts from the ground following her. Even a missile from the ground came up after her, but counter measures saw the missile exploded in the night sky before it reached its target. "Lets move."

Lasso and company moved quietly through the mostly deserted Low Security Public Hangers; the only causality being the watch tower guard, clearly taken out by an Imperial sniper by a good distance. A few droids worked steadily around their masters' ships despite the battle in town. Coming up behind the last freighter (a YT-1300) before the town proper, the three Mercs took up a covering position around the freighters' landing studs and cargo crates around her bottom...


TBC
OOG: Need to get to homework. Will finish this ASAP. You may structure tags around what I have thus far.

 

IC: Cain Varss
Hutt's Scuttle, Skip One, Smuggler's Run

“Not as much as you think. I have visions and some of your feelings come through to me,” she knew he wanted the subject dropped and she felt this was the love of his life killed. “Limited telepathy, telekinesis, levitation, extra speed. If I want to I can pick apart your memories but there would be nothing left, that’s of the dark side and not a very good idea to do to someone.”

Cain had to admit, that was a little intimidating, but his response to intimidation was not apprehension. Being a TIE pilot had taught him a great deal about fear and intimidation. If you hesitate, you die. No shields, no missiles, no torpedoes. Just balls. Every TIE pilot, at one point or another had to concede that they were already dead before stepping into the cockpit. Those that clung to life never survived. The best TIE pilots were the ones that ignored their fear and did not acknowledge its existence. Because of this, Cain's reaction to something that intimidated him was flat. But I've still lost some of that edge, because now I fear seeing Kate. Still, Cain had a lot of edge left, judging by his assessment of her abilities. The way he saw it, if she wanted to pick apart his memories, there probably wouldn't be too much he could do about it. Why worry about something you had very little control over? Though he would make a mental note to look up potential tactics against force users. Not necessarily to be used against his new squadron leader, but more because where there were good force users, as the legends had it, the bad ones tended to not be too far behind, and from what he had just heard, the legends didn't all seem to be too far off.

Cain smiled lightly. "So the stories and legends aren't all exaggerated after all. That is quite impressive, and quite a bit of power to handle and control. I can see how it would be easy to use those powers for less than amicable purposes. You show great restraint," Cain said. He thought about trying a warm smile but he wasn't sure he had the ability to smile like that. Another realization set in. "I can also now see why Vader is so universally feared. My father had the misfortune of meeting him once, Darth Vader. He claimed the man choked him from across the room. I didn't believe him at the time but now, that seems fairly rudimentary when compared to picking apart being's mind." Cain paused as another thought crossed his mind. "Why are you so upfront about all of this? This doesn't seem the type of information you would reveal to someone you barely know."

Tag: JediFalcon

 

IC: Fress Colias
Hutts Scuttle, Skip One, Smugglers Prime

"Why are you so upfront about all of this? This doesn't seem the type of information you would reveal to someone you barely know."

Fress sat back with a slight smile as she noticed someone drunk heading towards their table with a delirious happy smile causing her to frown. He better not try anything with me, not that was worried. She could handle any drunk without use of the Force. She was hand to hand combat trained after all. She turned her attention to Cain again. “Letting you know a head of time. Being around a Force sensitive, we don’t go looking for trouble. Trouble finds us. Being around me, can get sticky.”

As if to prove Fress’s point the drunk man sat down beside her. He reeked of death sticks and booze. It was all she could do from not chocking on the stench of the body odor. He threw his arm around her shoulders causing her irritation to rise. “Can I help you with something?”

“I’m willing to pay for your servises,” The man slurred slightly. “You working?”

“You have ten seconds to remove your arm from my shoulders,” Fress warned keeping her calm as she starred at the brute. “I’m no prostitute.”

“Oh come now, Doll don’t be like that,” the man slurred as he leaned in for a kiss causing Fress to shrug his arm off roughly. “I like them feisty. They tend to be more fun in bed.”

“This is my final warning. If you don’t leave, I will force you to leave,” Fress warned as she moved her arm fast grasping his wrist and twisting his arm around emitting a yelp from the man.

“What’s the matter, Herb? Too much of a woman for you to handle?” A man from another table gibed. “I warned you to be careful around her, she looks like the type that can wipe the floor with you,” the other two men sitting at the table started jabbing each other while chuckling.

The man didn’t seem to give up as Fress used her free hand to unhook her blaster from her belt. “If you don't leave now, I get to take your boys,” she pointed her blaster point blank at his balls causing the man to stand up quickly as she let go of his arm.

“Sorry to bother you, ma’am, sir,” the man apologized to both as he backed up into another table spilling the drink sitting there. The individual was enjoying the scene too much to even care as the drunk man tossed a credit on the table, muttered an apology and walked back over to the table he was sitting at as the other men began chiding him rather loudly.

“Still want in knowing all of this?”

kommando104, Coffee_Ninja, Mitth_Fisto, anyone else at the bar...

 

IC: Cap'n Dunn (nrc), Mary Formal (npc), DLT-5921 (The Monster Squad), the Alleyway
Location: Port Haven, Whendyll System


Dunn looked aghast at the numbers of white-armoured Imperial stormtroopers flooding into the Alleyway, and firing indiscriminately at the residents.

He dropped to one knee, got a bead on a running stormtrooper, and put him down, his Penetrator having no trouble against their armour.
Some of his fellows though, were suffering from the Empire's restrictions on the relative strengths of civilian blasters, compared to Imperial ones.

S-5s, noticeably, were doing little more than annoying the enemy, and several people were gunned down in retaliation.

He could hear powerful blaster fire and the thump of artillery from the direction of the Octagon arena to the North, and hoped that the droideka and Super Battle Droids intended to intimidate reluctant gladiators would be able to buy time for people to escape, though the question was begged, escape to where?

* * * *

Dressed, Mary poked her tongue self-reproachingly into the inside of her bottom lip for flushing the chemical fresher, the noise loud in the shack, rolled her eyes at her stupidity and pushed through the bead curtains into the front of Dunn's Mercantile as two stormtroopers burst through the front door, and sprayed the place with blaster fire.

She ducked behind the wooden counter with a scream, one hand on her blaster, one hand protecting her head as shrapnel and debris showered over her.

* * * *

Dunn tried to make a small target as a smuggler, a good customer, standing in the middle of the alleyway, took a bolt in the chest, and dropped slowly to his knees.

"Take cover, take cover," he called to his people, "don't stand in the open!" Taking his own advice, he ran towards and dove over a pack of crates at the sides, into the small gap between them and the building they were up against.

* * * *

Valuable seconds wasted on the floor of the shop, something changed in the young refugee, or at least young-looking; she was probably older than anyone else on this paltry planet, which was quickly becoming a disappointment to her.

"Port Haven, my ass." She muttered, shuffling on her bottom across the rough floor to the edge of the counter, taking a quick deep breath, and pushing herself back to lay on the floor, popping a couple of shots up into the nearest Imperial, lifting him off the floor and piling into his mate, giving her the chance to wax him too, the second trooper flailing back through the open doorway to land, dead, outside.

Mary threw her feet over her head in a backward roll to bring herself into the open, and followed the two while staying low to get a look at what was going on outside, as well as seeing how the rest of the troopers reacted to their dead fellows.

"Light it up!" She heard the electronic rasp call of a trooper.

"Light it up?" She muttered, peering through a gap in the slats, "Is that bad?"

Her eyes widened as she caught sight of a kneeling trooper drawing a bead on her with a MiniMag projectile launcher on his shoulder, the octagonal business end on the barrel so large that she was willing to bet there were astrophysicists ready to classify it as a black hole!

With Arcateenian speed, she flowedto the memory wipe stand, swiped the Q7 off its mount, and trailing wires, lobbed it through the door at the missile-trooper.

By time she looked out, the trooper was flat on his back, his launcher and Houdi on the ground next him, and a ragged pillar of grey vapour was trailing up after the Luck's Gamble shuttle, silhouetted in the fading light above them, till someone on board put everything on red, counter-measures destroying the missile in mid-flight, the deafening shockwave flattening Imperial and outlaw alike, and collapsing Dunn's Mercantile around Mary's ears.

While shots could be heard from the direction of the Octagon, everything within the blast radius went quiet for several moments.

Rolling over onto his front, the stormtrooper non-com, DLT-5921, "Twenty-One" to his friends, blinked behind his visor, and got to his knees, looking around at the state of play.
"What a mess." He grasped up his E-11.

A single crimson bolt that he recognised as from one of the snipers, flashed across his vision, Cap'n Dunn falling into view over his crate, his pistol falling from his grasp.

Twenty-One waved his thanks to the jungle, hurried over to the dead pirate to kick his dropped gun clear, then crossed to the supine missile trooper, kneeling beside him and shaking his colleague. "Hey, you okay?"

The Imperial stirred, and groaned.

"Atta-boy. C'mon, coffee break over." He knelt by his fallen comrade and aimed the blaster around. With their armour and hardy physiques, he expected his side to recover quicker than the locals, and besides, they had the snipers to cover them.

Sure enough, around them, troopers were groaning and moving, while the smugglers and pirates were still out for the count. The rocket-trooper was sitting up, and reaching for his launcher. He paused, peering down the Alleyway in the direction of the settlement. "Sarge, you hear that?"

[clatter-clatter-clatter]

"Oh, for feth's sake." Twenty-One knew that sound. It made sense that these people would have at least one of those technological throwbacks.
He put a hand to the side of his helmet to help with the comlink, to call his lieutenant, who was supposed to be in one of the AT-STs attacking the Octagon. "Lou, we got droideka."

Tag: Bravo, Bardan Jusik

 

IC: Cain Varss
Hutt's Scuttle, Skip One, Smuggler's Run

Cain noticed the man approaching, but looking over at Fress, she had noticed before he had. Having a Jedi in the squad definitely seems to be an advantage. As Cain watched the spectacle unfold, he didn't like it. Then, in a flash, the redhead in front of him was his redhead, Kate. He blinked and she was Fress again, but the undercurrent of anger began to surface. Cain pulled out a bandanna he kept in the cargo pocket of his pants and began wrapping it around his right fist. He checked his DL-44, safety off like usual. The only safety he needed was his brain and trigger discipline.

“Sorry to bother you, ma’am, sir,” the man apologized to both as he backed up into another table spilling the drink sitting there. The individual was enjoying the scene too much to even care as the drunk man tossed a credit on the table, muttered an apology and walked back over to the table he was sitting at as the other men began chiding him rather loudly.

“Still want in knowing all of this?”

"Yes ma'am, I do, but if you'll excuse me for a second..." said Cain getting up grabbing the credit chip. Something had brought out anger in him. He figured it was from Fress's very slight resemblance to Kate, even if it was only in the hair and eyes, it didn't matter though. He needed an outlet for his anger, frustration, and guilt.

Cain walked across to the table where the three men were sitting, all three human, likely part of a small smuggler crew, but here it could be anything. They could also have been pirates for all he knew. I could handle three if I needed to, but I should only need to handle one. He grabbed the offending man by the collar and hauled him onto his feet facing Cain. Cain held up the credit chip in his bandanna covered right hand. "You forgot something." With that Cain dropped the chip, stepped to the right slightly, and put his left fist into the drunk's gut. The right side step was in anticipation of what was to come next. Vomit. The man vomited on the floor under himself and with that Cain punched an upper cut with his right hand into the doubled-overed man's nose with a crunch and subsequent blood flow. The man fell backwards, with his back hitting the chair he had occupied, then he slid down to the floor, not unconscious, but definitely broken.

Cain saw movement from the man to the left of him in the chair. As the man started to stand up and draw, Cain silenced and stopped him with a palm raised in his direction and the DL-44 in his right hand pointed at the temple of the other man sitting at the table in front of him who had been slower to react. By now, the rest of the bar had their eyes on Cain and were silent, with only the music from the oblivious musician droid in the background. Cain then spoke firmly, but calmly. "I do not wish to start a bar fight, or shootout for that matter. Get this drunkard out of this bar and don't come back or you will suffer the same fate as him, or worse." Cain indicated with his eyes and a nod toward his DL-44.

The two men quickly grabbed their friend and headed out of the bar. Cain returned to his seat and the bar returned to the normal conversations and rantings. He didn't smirk or act proud of what he did, but he knew he would do it again if he could redo his actions. Hell, it might be good advertising for recruiting. Cain seated himself at the booth and began to unwrap the bandanna and place it back in his cargo pocket, "My apologies ma'am. I liked your approach, but the way I see it, he wouldn't have remembered the blaster to balls tactic in the morning unless you had put threat to action. This way, I gave him something to remember for the next week or so." That's when Cain smiled. It was fake, but Cain had plenty of practice with fake smiles. "Might even help with recruitment," he said with a wicked smile as he ran his hand over his buzzed black hair from front to back, dispersing some of the sweat his head had acquired in the confrontation.

Tag: JediFalcon, others in Hutt's Scuttle

 

IC: Fress Colias
Hutts Scuttle, Skip One, Smugglers Prime

"My apologies ma'am. I liked your approach, but the way I see it, he wouldn't have remembered the blaster to balls tactic in the morning unless you had put threat to action. This way, I gave him something to remember for the next week or so."That's when Cain smiled. It was fake, but Cain had plenty of practice with fake smiles. "Might even help with recruitment,"

Fress sat and shook her head with a frown. They weren’t bullies in this group. And sinking to the other level or going below it was over kill. “I thought that was bit over the top if I did pull the trigger. If he didn’t stop, I would’ve done it. He took the hint and left. Maybe he’ll think twice after the punch to the face you delivered. I’m not sure if this helps recruitment. I don’t like to stoop to his low unless forced too.”

kommando104, others in the Hutts scuttle