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

OOG:


To all players,

Everyone is doing a great job! I know its been kind of slow these last 2 weeks in the game. The reason is simple, we've been busy in the Rocketjock preparing the next game! Come check out the discussion and give us your feedback!


God Bless,

Jason

 

GM approved

Name: Masha Tinovorsh
Gender: Female
Age: 24
Species: Human
Homeworld: Danoor
Affiliation: The Mercs (Fresh pilot, never gotten a kill.)

Personality
---Traits: Deadpan, honest, addictive personality, tends to be hard on herself about her mistakes, nervous but fights to overcome fears, and pessimistic.
---Likes: Music, tabac, wine, flying, computers, reading, and consistent employers.
---Dislikes: Thugs, idiotic leadership, disloyalty, nightmares, bureaucracy, and politicians.
---Habits: Swearing, overthinking (about fighting, formations, strategy, and flight techniques), creating music in her head and humming to it, oversleeping, and running (exercise, not cowardice.)

Appearance

---Skin Color: Caucasian between a lighter and tanned tone
---Hair Color: Maroon and Auburn
---Eye Color: Green
---Clothing: Dark brown leather jacket, white blouse with a grey and blue striped shirt underneath, blue pants and black boots. Her flightsuit is just regular tan flight coveralls, with standard flight helmet dark grey.
---Other Attributes: 5'10", average athletic build, her hair is short, layered bob.

Weapons: DH-23 blaster pistol http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/DH-23_blaster_pistol

Starship
---Name: Blade Dancer (Painted in smaller black letters near the cockpit)
---Class: Variant Z-95 Headhunter

---Hyperdrive Class: Class 1, GBk-585 hyper drive unit installed.
---Weapon(s): 2 triple blasters and a concussion missile launcher.
---Shields: light
---Sublight Speed: 120 MGLT (Slightly faster than an X-Wing) 1,150 km/hr in atmo
---Crew: 1
---Passenger(s): none
---Max Cargo (kg): 85kg
---Interior Description: Holds consumables for up to 1 day of flight, control stick is on the right hand side and throttle on the left leaving the front open for computer and control system switches as well as short range radar and a navigation computer.
---Other Details: The ship itself is a matte red, the age of the ship required a lot of replacement parts during refurbishment after she inherited it from her father, the maintenance hours are low due to the modern parts. No tail insignia or other eccentric markings, yet.

Biography
---Personal History: Born 25 BBY on Danoor to a mother whom lived in one of the larger colonies selling goods from farms surrounding in the the areas, her father a transportation pilot between the colonies. The devastation caused by the rogue asteroid claimed the life of her mother, as well as half a million others in the wake of destruction from the floods, quakes, and ash clouds which followed. Her mother sacrificed her own life to allow her father to save their only child. The new central government had her father to be conscripted into the planetary defense force to train with other pilots. Leaving her to be raised primarily by her surviving relatives until she was old enough to be taken care of by her father, whom spent most of his time away from home.

Though her father had never flown a small fighter before he adapted quickly. He fought off small pirate raids during the rebuilding process, eventually settling in to becoming an instructor to train the next generations of pilots. Having been a founding member of the Space Corps and eventually the commander of the flight school, he was able to easily get Masha into the apprentice program, and then into the flight school.

As an apprentice pilot she never truly focused on flight, the basics came easily enough to her but her interests lied elsewhere. While most of the young apprentices were studying furiously and logging extra hours in the simulators, she didn't want life to pass her by and she frequently spent time she should be studying doing research, reading, and learning about computers and technical systems. As she neared the end of her apprenticeship at age 20, she began to develop an interest in music, which was in contrast to her introverted nature. After 4 long years of classes, exams, and flight hours she was inducted into flight school. She wasn't an upstart about her family's history, more so she felt guilty that she just didn't care enough about becoming an amazing fighter pilot like her father. Feeling as if she owed him nothing, having never truly been there for her.

She never met the high expectations of her instructors, demanding only the best as her father's instructors had demanded of them. Graduating as one of the more average students at age 23 she was inducted into the 4th Space Wing, which is to say, not that impressive. Rather it's just where they figured she belonged, with the average pilots and reservists. Her father pulled his weight and gave her his old Z-95 Headhunter upon entering her squadron.

A few months after her induction into the squadron her father died of health complications brought on by the stress of his life, Masha attended the funeral and as he was lowered into the ground she promised herself that she would become a better pilot than she had set herself up to be. Taking on her father's famous craft she went AWOL and left to find her own path to greatness.

---Military History: Pilot's apprentice from age 16-20, flight academy age 20-23, and searching for mercenary work from 23-24. Mostly finding escort missions for low value targets.
---Traumatic Experiences: The only explicitly traumatic events were the death of her mother, and the destruction caused by the asteroid, though she can't recall it she has implicit memories of the event causing her to be emotionally shut in, while not traumatic she feels lifelong abandonment from her father.

---------------------------------------------------------
IC: Masha Tinovorsh
Blade Dancer, Smuggler's Run

The Blade Dancer came out of hyperspace, Masha never really got used to the feeling. Approaching the asteroid field of Smuggler's Run she throttled down to avoid crashing into an asteroid as she approached. As always she's following the rumors of work for mercenary pilots. Weaving through the asteroids she approached Skip 1, landing in a hangar that wasn't too crowded, though not quite empty. She was no fool to the ways of criminals after finding herself in places like this on numerous occasions. Where was I supposed to go anyways.... She thought as she left the hangar bay, heading to the closest bar.

Music played lightly from a rundown jukebox on the other side of the bar where all manner of aliens sat, some quiet, some talking in low voices. This is the kind of bar Masha preferred, quiet and inconspicuous. She sat at the bar and ordered a drink, making sure to keep her distance from some of the more shady patrons. Some time later, well into her second drink, the music changed over to a song she felt like she knew. Perhaps she recognized the tune, just barely, to her it sounded like the song of the academy only played by some sort of alien instruments. Maybe being at the drink was playing with her head. Slowly, she lifted her head as if to help confirm she was hearing this correctly, Nah... That ain't it. she thought before going back to finish her drink. After her third round, and no information on where a merc might be needed, she decided to give up and head back to her ship to sleep it off.

Masha awoke several hours later to the darkness behind the tinted visor of her helmet. Fumbling around a bit, she removed her helmet and sat up in her seat. Rubbing her eyes with a sigh Masha felt her head swim. Suppose I wasn't asleep as long as I thought... She was still slightly intoxicated and walked off light on her feet back into the station.

The club was crowded and noisy, Not a bad place, I suppose. Masha was glad that she always kept her DH-23 handy although it was easily noticeable, she figured that everyone else was armed as well. A man bumped into her as she walked past one of the dance floors towards the bar, "What the... 'Ey! Why don't -- Ergh... " she cut herself off he was already gone and the music was too loud. A little annoyed she headed for the bar and ordered a 'pick me up' from the bar tender, the Zabrak woman brought back a strange looking liquid in a shot glass. "What is this?" It didn't look good, at all. "It'll sober you up,"the bar tender said "Better for an amateur to be professional." Masha looked at her, the bar tender leaned in. "Well, you're a pilot aren't you? You got that look about you, clean, but not too clean. Must be a freelancer, we get a lot of your type, actually. I know a thing or two about a group you might be interested in, if you're looking for long term work."

"You've got a job?" she asked.

"No. I just hear things, part of the perks of being a bar tender..." she said. Masha listened intently to the bar tender as she went into some sparse details about some group that simply called themselves The Mercs, they definitely sound exciting.

Tipping the bar tender as she left, Masha made for the hangar bay. Shiny. She thought, smiling as she put on her helmet and left the hangar bay.

Blade Dancer weaved through the asteroids, Masha was a bit nervous at the controls. This could be the real deal. As she left the asteroid field of Smuggler's Run she entered the coordinates of the Whendyll system and made the jump to light speed. Her mind raced as she got closer to her objective, what could she expect? She hoped she wasn't walking into a band of mercenaries ready to eat her alive, or worse a trap. If it was a trap then she'd have to be prepared, but what if she got the wrong idea and they weren't hostile? If she started firing then they might be forced to take her down. I don't think I'd misinterpret the situation that bad, just relax, you'll be fine. Masha calmed her nerves and prepared to drop out of hyperspace, she reached for the controls and was suddenly wrenched into sublight speed.

Not knowing what happened, Masha throttled back the hyperdrive, hoping that no damage was caused, and lifted her visor. The whole picture came to her as she saw explosions ahead of her and stray laser fire flew everywhere. She snapped out of the mesmerizing scene, hoping that no one would notice her, she kept to the outskirts of the battle and called in on the first channel she could, "Blade Dancer to squadron leader," she was at a loss for words, ".... Do you copy? Anyone!?" She strained to remember the names as her heart raced. Her warning radar began to sound a warning at her, Masha throttled up her engines to full power and began evasive maneuvers, not knowing what was behind her. Her IFF wasn't set to any specific readings, she had no idea who was on her tail, but hoped she could evade them in the chaos of the battle. Masha rolled starboard, and pitched up, she decreased her speed in hopes to see what was pursuing her. It looked like an Imperial TIE fighter, facing forward she was banking towards a frigate with two large sections held together by a smaller. She couldn't remember what it's name was but at least it wasn't firing at her, yet. She tried the comms again "Blade Dancer to squadron leader... !"


TAGS: Bravo and Sith-I-5[/quote]

 

IC: Fress Colias Alias Kasha Sherland

"Firecracker, here's our chance. Let's get in there and get our people home."
Fress glanced around her and quickly agreed with Atin's observation as Mac and Kasumi took out a couple of more TIE's. "That's the break we're looking for. Good eye, Scorch. Let's go for it."

Fress pushed her fighter towards the Sentinel and brought her fighter up beside the shuttle. "Saber, send a encrypted message to Jason. Let him know this is the time to make a break for it. Let him know half the squadron is around him."

Saber beeped in agreement as he sent a message to the Luck's Gamble.

// Your escort is now beside you. Time to leave this party. Firecracker.//

Bravo, Bardan_Jusik

 

IC: Jensen Visak
Location: Quad Turret, DD

Jensen looked out towards the battle, tensions building up inside of him. He was ready to shoot down some enemies, of which the force arrayed against them, were giving him plenty. Swarms of TIEs started to close in on the Interdictor as the Neb-B started to fire long distance turbolasers, their blasts rocking the ship and its shields, the later of which were still holding.

Over the comm a voice came over the speaker, "Alert all commands. We leave in ten minutes. I want a path of travel plotted and ready away from those Star Destroyers. We'll use the system's sun to our advantage; our close travel to the sun, as safely as we can, will scatter the ISDs' sensors. Make sure all commands know that they need to have shields to full and blast shields over all windows. It'll get hot, very hot. And no starfighters out on patrol---they'll get cooked. By the time the ISDs make it from outer system to Port Haven anyways, we should be well ahead of them enough to safely escape."

As the command came over the comms, the TIE swarm intercepted the Merc and Kindom of Jod fighter screen almost mid point between the two ships. The fighters broke off into individual dogfights. Jensen wished he could join them, but he knew that he was needed more here in the turret. There was far more TIE fighters than Merc forces, almost on cue, a group of fighters made their way towards the Interdictor.

Jensen lined up his targeting screen with the first fighter, waiting till he got a confirmed lock, and then let loose as soon as it came within range. Set for linked fire, his turret shot out paired laser blasts, the first hitting the lead starfighter, directly in the cockpit causing the ship to explode, scattering his friends. Jensen then started picking targets of opportunity. He clipped one fighter who was following an X-Wing, his shot sending the TIE into an uncontrolable spin, later to be taken out by one of the other turrets, closer to the pointed bow of the capital ship.

In such a target rich environment, he had to make sure he wasnt firing on any friendly ships. He glanced down at the targeting sensors, when all of a sudden laser blasts started to splash against the shields in front of him. One of the fighters had tried to target his turret. He turned the lasers and then fired, making the TIE regret trying to make a run on his turret, as the fighter exploded. If those shield whould have been down I'd have been toast. He heard a squeal from behind him and saw Rex wobbling back and forth on his two legs. "Hey Rex, plug into the sensor net and try to keep an eye on any fighters making a run on us." He thought for a second, "Also, if you spot anything else intresting that you think someone might have missed let me know." Rex tweetled a questioning reply, "I dont know, look for anyone flying a little too casual, of see if any other turrets need to be warned about any incoming strafing runs. Basiclly keep busy."

Jensen turned back towards the battle and let some shots off at a fighter who was lining up a run on the command tower. The missed, barely, but they caused the ship to abandon its run on the tower. It's gonna be a long ten minutes.

TAG: Sith-I-5 anyone near the DD battle

 

IC: Jason Lasso
Cockpit, Luck's Gamble (Sentinel-class Landing Craft), Port Haven Skies, Port Haven


Lasso was thankful for the sudden escort of friendly fighters, but something suddenly struck him. How would they get the tank into space? It would burn up in atmosphere. Experience was one of those kickers, especially now. But Lasso wanted the tank.

"Bloody stupid tank," Jason muttered as he watched the skies ahead; some other urgent problems were developing, like the fact that the Imperials were now desperate and understanding who the true VIP target was. Whether it was the combined effort of Imperial Officers wanting to avoid death at the failure of such a important mission or if it was the fact that the "Emperor's Hand" was issuing such orders, the TIEs started to swarm in ahead right in front of the Luck's Gamble as the Sentinel started to climb. The Imperials were using their superior numbers now, sacrificing many untold TIE pilot lives at the gunnery barrage of the Jod vessels in low orbit above. The outer swarm of TIEs blew apart in multoipule and many explosions of flame and debris as the turbolaser fire from above cut into them. But, their sacrifice allowed others to make a run for the Luck's Gamble. For a moment, Lasso was speechless at the TIEs bravery for such a mission. Their bravery and honor onto death for the greater good.

"Attention all Jod forces, this is Captain Jason Lasso. We are carrying a tank in a Sentinel-class Landing Craft. I do beleive your gunners are hitting a rather massive swarm of TIEs now. That swam is headed right for us. I need your craziest Light-class Destroyer captain. I understand the Lights are build for quick smuggler and pirate pursuit in planetary conditions. We need a pick-up before that swarm gets to us. Give that swarm everything you got, because they will overwhelm us any minute now. Lasso out."

---

IC: Captain Timothy Stakes
Bridge, King II-class Battleship Allegiance, over Port Haven


"Attention all Jod forces, this is Captain Jason Lasso. We are carrying a tank in a Sentinel-class Landing Craft. I do beleive your gunners are hitting a rather massive swarm of TIEs now. That swam is headed right for us. I need your craziest Light-class Destroyer captain. I understand the Lights are build for quick smuggler and pirate pursuit in planetary conditions. We need a pick-up before that swarm gets to us. Give that swarm everything you got, because they will overwhelm us any minute now. Lasso out."

"Captain Lasso, this is Captain Timothy Stakes of the Allegiance. Remember the sign of those shooting stars? Here it comes."

"Make it count Captain," the mercenary Captain's reply came.

Stakes turned to gunnery, "Give me everything you got. Hold nothing back. Watch your overshoot towards that Sentinel," Stakes turned to Hilton, "Have all available starfighters change their mission profiles to that Sentinel. If that shuttle gets blown up, we minus well join them."

"Understood, Captain."



TAG ALL

 

IC: Sal Brookes(npc), HT-2200 freighter Snow White
Location: Whendyll System outskirts, sixty klick in-system from DD

The shattered, Corellian freighter floated in the darkness, among the wreckage of countless fighters and the three capital ships, Jod and Imperial, that had mets their ends in the battle.

A repeated signal broadcast on all channels from the craft: "This is Sal Brookes adrift in the Snow Queen without power. Red Zero, Red Zero, request immediate extraction."

Inside the only part of the ship that was still pressurised, Sal, new Merc recruit, could see outside the main port, the mejestic white wedge of a distant Imperial Star Destroyer passing through the wreckage field.

Occasional turbolaser blasts flashed out to vaporise a chunk of starship that was too large for her shields to push out of the way.

Tag: Bravo - so you know what is happening with your npc, Heavy Isotope - as Masha should receive the distress call

---

IC: Commander Phoomi and crew, Imperial Nebulon-B escort frigate, Tango
Location: Whendyll System outskirts


The female frigate commander pulled the scrunchie from her ponytail, and shook her brown locks free as she watched her ship's forward turbolasers make accurate strike upon the longer, twice as long in fact, interdictor cruiser, angling in to face her nose-to-nose.

"Commander, that Jod warship is accelerating towards us." Tactical warned urgently.

She nodded. "I see it. Angle main shields towards them."

"As ordered."

* * * *
Spar Corridor

Several grey-uniformed crew passed black-tunic'd Naval Guards in the corridor, saluting if they felt like it.

The corridor shifted around them to some external catalyst, some of them ending up on their knees, some getting carpet burns on their palms as they fell forward from the impacts.

* * * *
Bridge

"Ma'am, we are taking heavy fire at the spar. Shields holding."

"Why does everyone attack the spar?" Phoomi asked the room.

"Because its our only weak-"

The commander scowled, "I know why, I was being rhetorical. Helm, turn us towards the attacking vessel. I don't want her having line of sight on the spar. But continue to take us in close to the 'Delinquent.What's our range on her?"

"Hundred and fifty klicks, and closing fast. Our TIEs are making contact at the interdictor."

The ComScan operator called across the bridge. "Commander, a Z-95 Headhunter has jumped in. Designation, Blade Dancer. She is requesting to speak to the squadron leader."

Phoomi peered over to the Communications station. "Am I a squadron leader?" She asked sarcastically, then part of what he said, registered. "She?"

"Yes, Commander. She sounds human, and in her twenties." The officer did not elaborate further, though he wanted to add that the pilot could be male, and his flightsuit had ridden up in hyperspace. The Commander could be easy going most times, but they were in combat, and she suffered no fools when lives and her ship was at stake.

"Call her back," She ordered. Her boots tap-tapped on the hard deck as she strode over to the Communications Station. "Don't tell her where you are comming from." She staggered as the ship shuddered again. She grabbed hold of the back of someone's chair, and called across to the Gunnery Chief. "Chief, portside turbolasers; take them off Skipray duty, and use them to return fire on that destroyer."

The ComScan officer glanced up at the looming woman above him, then donned his headset, hitting transmit. "Blade Dancer from Squadron Leader. How can we help you?" He raised eyebrows at the Sensor Operator at the adjacent station.

Tag: The Eleventh Hour, Blade Dancer

---

IC: Corporal Loretta, Technician Flavin, Lieutenant Zotoman, Delicate Delinquent interdictor
Location: Whendyll System outskirts


Loretta, one of the King's Navy guards from the Sword of Justice King-class battleship, huffed up the circular staircase to the bridge level, and trotted forwards to the bridge doors.

This would be her third attempt to be useful since belatedly waking up to the Cradmoon' girls' panic at them sleeping through the alarms.

The rescue shuttle which she had helped on during the last two sorties since the Greater Javin, had already deployed; so she had followed her standing orders, and sought out Bridge officer Bob, who was manning one of the side quad-laser emplacements.

He had not wanted her distracting him when the TIEs arrived, and had instructed her to head up here to the bridge.

On arrival, she was surprised to see only Kingdom of Jod personnel up here; this was supposed to be a Merc vessel, or at least one run equally between the three factions - Jod, Merc and Block.

"Here they come!" Was the first voice she heard, and she looked beyond the speaker, a hunched figure at the forward-most of five bridge stations, to see a crowd of solar-finned TIE fighters approaching from beyond the Delicate Delinquent's nose.

One took bolts from their upper guns in the face, fireballing as two more TIEs dove below the ship, and a further two split to attack the port and starboard sides, while a larger group came over the upper hull, peppering the hull, and gravity domes with bright green laser fire, the hot plasma bouncing off their shields.

"Look out!" The Jod ducked behind his station as one Imperial fighter grew in size with frightening speed as it came straight for the windows, changing course at the last minute, chased by red fire from one of their emplacements.

Loretta did not know if she had made any sound, but the tall officer in charge swirled to face her: "What are you doing there?"

She could see that he was in the blue-and-gold semi-armoured spacesuit of their Go Teams.

"Uh, I have been sent up here to guard the bridge, Sir."

"Lieutenant Zotoman." He identified himself. "If we get boarded, you won't hold them back for long, Corporal." He pointed to one of the two rearmost stations. One was occupied by a pony-tailed blonde girl in the same uniform as herself. "Take Communications, Corporal."

"Yes sir." Loretta was grateful not to be pushed off to another part of the ship. She stepped into the bridge proper, and headed for the indicated seat, nodding once to the younger woman on the other station.

She set about familiarising herself with the controls.

Tag: Jensen, Kilo

 

IC: Masha Tinovorsh, Blade Dancer, Whendyll System Outskirts
Near Imperial Nebulon-B escort frigate, Tango

Masha maneuvered away from the frigate, evading the TIE fighter tailing her. "Blade Dancer from squadron leader,. How can we help you?"

Finally a response... Slightly relieved, Masha called over the comm, "This is Blade Dancer, I'm here to help," she looked around as the battle began to unfold around her. "But first maybe help me handle these TIEs?" She circled around facing the direction of what looked like a smaller sized Star Destroyer with four large nodes. She zeroed in on a TIE fighter and squeezed the trigger of her fighter's control stick. There was no response when she realized that she had never set her S-foils to attack position. Masha flipped the switch, keeping the nose of her craft aimed at the TIE fighter, a sudden wave of realization washed over her, sending a feeling of pins-and-needles through her body. How could I be so stupid! The TIE fighters engaging her hadn't been attacking the frigate, filled with anger at herself, she squeezed the trigger once again. Blaster bolts flew from her craft and ripped into the TIE's cockpit and starboard wing, causing it to roll violently, throwing the pilot from the wreckage.

Masha passed the debris, glancing at the body of the pilot as he flew lifelessly amongst the chunks of the destroyed fighter. Splash one. This was the first time she had made a kill. Masha closed the channel, roiled at herself for being so foolish. Cursing to herself, for making two mistakes in a row, she throttled up. "I'll get mine." Masha said over the Imperial channel as coldly as she could muster, before cutting her comms with them. Flying further from the Nebulon-B Frigate, hoping to draw what was left of the small element of TIEs to her. The other two fighters pursued her, she throttled down and circled to engage.

"This is Sal Brookes adrift in the Snow Queen without power. Red Zero, Red Zero, request immediate extraction."

The two TIE fighters split, the leader pursuing her in her turn, trying to get a lead on her maneuver waiting for an opening to fire. The second TIE fighter making a wider maneuver to tail behind Blade Dancer. Green blaster bolts fired form the second TIE as Masha rolled and pitched to evade as the leader formed up with the other. "Blast it!" she cursed, unable to break their pursuit. Remembering the stray distress call she responded, "Snow Queen, send channel for relaying your distress call." She hoped it wasn't Imperials again, beginning to regret her decision to even come here. This isn't what Masha expected. Throttling to full power, she used the speed of the fighter to her advantage and maneuvered behind the second TIE, which again broke off from the formation. Masha opened fire on the TIE scoring hits along the fuselage the most significant damage being done to the rear of the cockpit causing the engine to sputter out sending it adrift. As she glanced around for the lead TIE, her radar sounded a series of warning beeps, lock on. Green bolts impacted the shields of Blade Dancer, Masha fought panic. The lead TIE swooped in from above, the intensity of the blasters caused her shields to flare and die. Masha maneuvered to face the TIE as it flew past her, she throttled down to tighten her turn, rounding behind the TIE she quickly squeezed the trigger landing no hits, she was leading him too much. Before the pilot could move away, Masha adjusted her aim, squeezing the trigger she let loose a barrage on the TIE, exploding under the barrage.

Sighing in relief, Masha looked to the drifting TIE feeling the weight of regret sink into her chest at the slow death she had likely doomed the pilot to. Trying to shake the feeling and stay alert for more fighters, she waited for a response from the Snow Queen.

TAGS: Bravo Sith-I-5

 

IC: Kilo "Papa Zulu" Typhon
Location: Underneath the Delicate Delinquent

The X-Wing Starfighter came to a stop directly underneath the center of the large craft above it. Kilo breathed a deep sigh, craned his neck to look up at the Delinquent and whistled. "Alright, Sev," he called back to the astromech droid behind him. "You heard 'em. We're down here to cover the underside. Make sure none of the TIEs get through."

"And boarding ships," Sev corrected. "Radar is on full power. They will be on scopes before we see them."

"Great," Kilo groaned. "There was a huge task force of pilots heading out there to engage them and we've got guys like Jensen on the turrets. With any luck, we won't even see any action." Kilo paused. "Speaking of, keep me updated if Jensen gets some kills. Seemed like a nice enough guy."

What sounded like a computer's idea of electronic laughing sounded in Kilo's earpiece. "Small group heading toward us. Estimated enemy strength: ten to twelve fighters."

"'Small'?" Kilo guffawed. Kilo blinked quickly to bring up the schematics of a TIE Fighter on his Heads-Up-Display. Red circles highlighted where the crafts were susceptible to getting hit. "How many TIEs have you taken out, Sev?" As he spoke, he saw small circles appear on his long-range radar. Each small blip represented a separate enemy ship.

The small droid in the back seemed to take a moment to process the query. After what seemed like an eternity, its beeps and twitters were translated on Kilo's HUD. "Two with your immediate predecessor. One with the pilot before that." The radar's imaging changed as some of the TIE Fighters were hit by turbolaser fire and others broke off into small groups.

"So, your pilots get an average of about a kill and a half before buying the farm?" Kilo asked.

"If past accounts continue to hold up, yes. It is, as you know, a small sample size, however."

"Great," Kilo bit his lip. Far ahead, near the nose of the ship, two TIE Fighters dropped into sight. "Let's go ahead and see if we can improve your average, Sev. Don't let me down now."

With that, he gunned his throttle forward and shot ahead to engage the enemies head-on. "Yee-haw," Kilo murmured with a grin.

Tag: Sith-I-5 , SWBob

 

IC: Captain Leeroy Jenkins, Captain Yavscout, Flight Lieutenant Smart Sweet, Light-class destroyer, House of Vimal; jungle; Nu-class rescue shuttle, Trixie Belle
Location: Port Haven (third planet of the Whendyll System)


Seated in his command chair, tense and excited at the same time, Captain Jenkins acknowledged Communications’ advice that he was receiving a holo from Allegiance.

He did not recognise the translucent blue image of Commander Hilton until he spoke, but for the moment, the officer was gesturing off holocam for someone to bring something.

Another figure appeared, handing the commander a document rolled up like one of the Prophesy scrolls, eg. rolled from the top and bottom of the page to meet in the middle.
As the second figure stepped back out of the image, Hilton turned to face Jenkins. “Captain, Jason Lasso has identified himself. He is in the atmosphere aboard the Sentinel-class shuttle, Luck’s Gamble, about to be swarmed by dozens of TIE fighters. He-”

In the background, Jenkins heard Stakes’ voice calling, “Have all available starfighters change their mission profiles to that Sentinel. If that shuttle gets blown up, we minus well join them.”

Hilton’s image faced left, nodding at the order. “Yes sir.” He turned to the right, “Flight deck, you get that?”

The Commander faced Jenkins again. “Captain Lasso requests our craziest Light-class destroyer captain, and we have taken the liberty of drawing up a list.” One hand on the top scroll, and thumb holding the lower scroll, Hilton pulled open the document. “Captain Leeroy Jenkins?” He closed the document and looked smugly into the holocam.

Jenkins grinned. “We are on the way, Commander.” He killed the holo, then started calling instructions. “Helm, set course for that Luck’s Gamble shuttle. She’s in atmo’, so our entry should be steep enough that we don’t bounce off the atmosphere.”

* * * *
Jungle

Yavscout watched the descending pilot chair for a moment, as it started to slowly descend on its parachute, calculating how many seconds he had till he had to get underneath it to catch it.

He crossed to the other side of the crashed fighter, to where the droid was.

“Okay, out. You are coming with us.”

“You are going to have to carry me,” the R4 tweetled as it popped out of its socket, resting on the sloped hull while the elf pressed against it to stop it rolling off onto the forest floor..

“Frag. Really?” Yav was dubious about that. At its widest point, the spherical droid looked like it would be almost two feet across. “You look like you’re a big bastiche.”

“Are you saying I’m fat?”

“I’m sure its your glands.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

A crunching sound turned the elf’s head to see the ejection chair had landed while he had been trying not to hurt the feelings of a droid.

“Ooh, that sounded bad. Ejection seat, right?”

Yavscout kissed his teeth. Well, the pilot wasn’t screaming, so that was good. He looked back at Davina. “How does Brief get you to the fighter? Does he have a big carpet bag, a papoose, come on, work with me here!”

Looking up, he could see non-Imperial fighters breaking off from their own battles to cross the sky in a uniform direction.

Heading for Lasso’s shuttle, he guessed.

* * * *
Nu-class shuttle, Trixie Belle


Lieutenant Sweet could see on his scanners the crowd of TIE fighters dropping out of the sky, angling down towards them, while his longer range sensor sweeps slotted the rescue shuttle in front of the Luck’s Gamble, and doubled the forward shields.

The two Surefall Flight starfighters came overhead and settled in on both sides.

“Luck’s Gamble from Trixie Belle, we’ll lead you-” Sweet’s voice trailed off at the bright flare of yellow flame in his right port as the cockpit area of the ARC-170 on that side got chewed by an intense hail of projectile, obliterating the crew inside.

The pilotless fighter started to drift, of all directions, closer.

“Surefall One,” Sweet yelled to the fighter on his left, “Break break break!”

He lifted the shuttle out of the formation and caught sight of a dark grey Imperial Dropship Transport, much lower altitude, hardly visible against the green shades of the tree cover.

Parellel lances of hot yellow fire came zipped up from the IDT to strike the ‘Belle’s side, and in an instant, shield indicators switched from green to red on his boards, and he could hear the sound of ricocheting metal round him, as well as cries of pain and panic!

“Frag-sith!” Sweet pulled the shuttle out of formation, almost weightless in his chair as he dove toward the jungle.

Behind him in the cabin, one of the SCA troops was already dead, torso punctured by the mass driver round that had come up through the floor and exited through the roof, while Mary’s face was covered in blood from the round that had come up through her thigh. She held on with one hand, while the other was clasped to her leg to staunch the charred wound.

Light and wind came up through half a dozen ragged holes punched into the floor, with corresponding exits in the roof.

* * * *
Imperial Dropship Transport (IDT)

SG-12 knew through the Force that he had hit people aboard that ridge-bodied craft that was heading the one the Force signature was on.

He put up the nozzle of the blocky, twin-barrelled mass-driver cannon he was manning, as the wind through the open passenger bay whipped roughly at him and his cape, while the pilot took them in the opposite direction to the Lasso aerial cavalcade climbing for altitude several hundred feet overhead, including the tank-carrying Sentinel, and a YT-1300 transport, plus the remaining ARC, so that they couldn’t get more than a quick lock on his craft.

“Pilot, bring us around for another pass!” The silver-armoured Saber Guard called forward.

“As ordered.”

SG-12 cast his gaze across the expanse of sky, looking the shuttle he had just shot up. “Now where did that transport go?”

Up there, far beyond the diving TIEs, something was making the cloud cover go dark.

* * * *
Jungle

Getting no satisfactory answer from the droid, the elf had dropped to the floor, sitting cross-legged to mem another spell, which took a few precious seconds.

Yavscout rose and cast Skin Like Steel. Normally, this was to protect him from ballistic-speed projectiles, or getting roughed up by Noghri gladiators, but this, this was to stop him breaking his foot as he kicked and dribbled Davina back to Captain Darkins’ borrowed starfighter.

He swatted the R4 to let it roll off the Actis’ nose, and crunch into the earth.

Then, feeling the temperature drop, and the sky go slightly dark, he turned to look at the dark clouds that the Saber Guard before him had noticed, moments before, though by now, something was clearly coming through.

“Whoa, they are not taking any chances. Captain Stakes is actually bringing one of his warships down….” The elf’s eyes widened. When he had awoken to the General Quarters alarms that announced the DD’s arrival at Port Haven, he had not guessed that within hours, he would qualify for the Galen Marek Brown Trousers Society, witnessing an out-of-control Imperial warship challenge the "cannot go into the atmosphere" rule.

Well, more guideline than rule, the awestruck elf conceded. Cos, yes, it ******* can.

“What did one granite hawk say to the other granite-hawk? Let's get the flock out of here.”

“Brief!” Yav bellowed to the unconscious pilot, “We are LEEEAVING!”

Tag: Cochise, Salmakk, Atin / Taab, Lasso

OOC: a) Hilton’s thing with the scroll is based on Blackadder;
b) while players can attack the IDT, please do not post damage for it.
c) The last line based on Aliens, where the under attack Colonial Marines are evac’ing the alien infested Atmospheric Processing Plant.

 

IC: Aurora Cradmoon (npc), Forward TIE Hangar, Delicate Delinquent interdictor
Location: Whendyll System outskirts


The 23-year old Silverran zipped up the front of her grey flightsuit as she jumped down to the hangar deck from the open bay of the AT-AT Barge that she had been bedding down in, and trotted fast over to the parked silver-hulled tracked vehicle that was the Nen-Caervon PX-4 Mobile Command Vehicle.

The deck shifted slightly as the ship took a turbolaser hit, but as an experienced spacer, she took the movement in her stride.

Aurora pulled her dark brown hair back with one hand, and cinched it with something to form a tidier ponytail, then pulled herself up to the cab, opening the door and climbing inside, nodding at the blue sack-coated Jod soldier inside.

"Hello. I am taking over in here." She told him.

The man immediately snapped open his seat restraints, and prepared to vacate the seat. "Yes, I was told you were coming." Standing and turning to the rear of the cabin to clear the way, he nodded to the back. "You have a team of engineers back there having a mothers' meeting. Don't know about what."

"Thanks. Good luck." She took his seat, finding it still warm from his presence, and after a moment's hesitation, pulled the seat webbing over her shoulders to snap together at her midriff.

She had wondered why he had worn his, seeing as the craft was no going to be moving anyway, but sitting here now, it just seemed natural to wear it.

Cradmoon ran test charges through the PX-4's heavy laser cannon, and used the joystick to try out the barrel movement. She activated the comlink. "Bridge, Merc Three in position. Hangars guarded from inside."

"Copy, Merc Three. First TIE squadron has made contact, though just two are attacking underneath us. Most of them seem to be attacking the top hull. Keep your eyes peeled."

"Merc Three, copy." She released a breath as she signed off. The exchange had gone better than she thought it would.

She hoped the black-and-orange armoured Merc was able to hold the TIEs outside, and prevent them or any enemies boarding.

She did not fancy seeing any action inside the ship.

Tag: no-one

 

IC: Masha Tinovorsh, Blade Dancer
Whendyll System Outskirts

Masha grew restless, whoever sent the distress call hadn't responded to her. Looks like it's up to me, she thought, taking a deep breath she traced the signal of the call. The systems in her craft weren't great but the origin was nearby, giving her the location. Throttling up she oriented Blade Dancer towards the Snow White, she set off to (hopefully) save whoever needed help.

As Blade Dancer neared the source of the signal, Masha's chest tightened and felt a sinking in her stomach when she saw it. A Star Destroyer, being engaged by fighters and some sort of shuttle she didn't recognize. This can't be happening! Cursing her luck she tried to control her breathing as her heart pounded. Feeling fear like she hasn't known before, blinking furiously she struggled to remember her training and shake the feeling, throttling down to mask her approach. At least the fighters are keeping it busy. Though she still couldn't help feeling alone and outgunned.

Cutting the engines sending her adrift as she reached the debris field, hoping to hide from the Destroyer. Masha turned off the lights in her craft, waiting for the destroyer to pass. Looking through the scattered parts, her eyes welled up at the sight of a lifeless body.... Can anyone ever get used to that... ? Mash had never seen war or death, during the devastation of Danoor she was still an infant, though a feeling haunted her causing her to tremble in the cockpit as she waited for what seemed like an eternity. The Star Destroyer passed by her despite the attacks and the wreckage. Masha heaved a sigh of relief, although she was still shaking she called over the channel used by Snow White; "Blade Dancer to Snow White, w-where are you? I.. I can't tell where you're transmitting f-from."

TAGS: Anyone near the ISD or Snow White, @Sith-I-5

 

IC: Beskaryc Taab/ Atin Taab
Cockpit, Luck's Gamble (Sentinel-class Landing Craft)/ Cockpit, Crusader (Modified YT-1300), Port Haven Skies, Port Haven

"Attention all Jod forces, this is Captain Jason Lasso. We are carrying a tank in a Sentinel-class Landing Craft. I do beleive your gunners are hitting a rather massive swarm of TIEs now. That swam is headed right for us. I need your craziest Light-class Destroyer captain. I understand the Lights are build for quick smuggler and pirate pursuit in planetary conditions. We need a pick-up before that swarm gets to us. Give that swarm everything you got, because they will overwhelm us any minute now. Lasso out."

Oh shab, Taab thought to himself. Was the Skipper thinking what he thought he was thinking? The Mandalorian glanced over to the younger human. Yeah, he sure was. Taab hoped Lasso's skills as a pilot were up to the task of handling such a landing. Well too late to worry about that now.

He looked out of the forward windscreen and saw that the Mercs fighters, along with the Crusader had taken up escort positions around the Luck's Gamble now. He knew it had to be his son at the controls of their old "freighter". At least it had better be. He opened up a secure comm channel, from bucket to bucket. "Remember that little maneuver we ran a little while ago?" he asked, being careful to avoid any sort of identifiers over the circuit. It may have been secure, but better not to leave anything to chance. "The one where we picked those packages up in flight?" There was silence on the other end of the line, Taab knew his message was getting through but it seemed Atin was thinking about it. He finally responded.

"Yeah...?"

Good, he remembered. "The Skipper is going to pull something similar, but this time we're the package. Make sure your people are ready, either get clear or get ready for a hard landing yourselves."

"Ahhh.......... Roger that." and the secure comm line went dead.

Aboard the Crusader Atin was at first overjoyed to hear his father's voice overt their secure link. He never doubted that his buir (father) could get through this, but it was good to hear the confirmation. Still it took a moment for Atin to understand what his father was talking about. Mid-flight packages? Then it hit him. The mission they had undertaken for the Empire right before joining the Mercs! They had been contracted to pick up a squad of Space Troopers from an Interdictor that had been taken over by an unknown force. That force had turned out to be the Mercs, so it was no wonder that buir was playing things close to the chest plates on that one.

If he was understanding things right than Captain lasso intended on bringing one of those big boys down on top of them for a combat pickup. He commed out to the rest of the squadron. "Guardians, this is Scorch, heads up. We're about to have company, heavy company."

TAG: Bravo, other pilots in the skies of Port Haven

---

IC: Captain John Hickory (NPC)
Kingdom's Navy Vessel Eleventh Hour, Whendyll System Outskirts

"Excellent." Hickory said to no one in particular. So far the frigate was still trying to close on the Delinquent Dancer, but was angling itself (and its shields) to try to protect its major weak point from the Eleventh Hour's attack. The Destroyer shook suddenly as turbolaser fire began to impact against its shields.

"Status?" he asked unconcerned. "Shields holding at 87%, we're in good shape." That frigate still packed a wallop, but it couldn't hope to defeat both them and the Interdictor. "Very well, hold your course and continue firing. Increase our distance from the Dancer. We'll pin the frigate in between us." With their diverging vectors the frigate would soon no longer be able to both protect its central spar and continue to close on the Dancer. They would have a choice to make, close on the Dancer and leave their flank exposed to the Eleventh Hour, or turn in towards the KoJ destroyer and leave that central spar open to fire from the Interdictor. Either way, unless she got help soon, the Tango was theirs.


TAG: Sith-I-5

 

IC: Various
Location: Whendyll System outskirts

The Delicate Delinquent
The two TIE fighters that had chosen to go low on the approach to the interdictor, moved in single file below the triangular hull, with the lead fighter seeing Kilo's X-Wing surge forward to meet them, while behind it, the elephant-head-shaped Firespray-31 patrol crafty slotted in behind the T-65.

The black-suited Imperial pilot pressed down with thumbs on his fire buttons, spraying hot green plasma at the X-Wing.

* * * *

Bridge Officer Bob swing his port-side gun turret from left to right in a desperate attempt to hit the two TIEs zipping along his side of the hull, but they were too fast, the red laser bolts from his four barrels not even coming close to hitting them.

From what he could tell, no-one of his fellow gunners had any luck either.

Phooomm

The shaking, which felt like a turbolaser hit, shook him in his restraints. He hoped this ship held together. No offence to it, but it was no King-class battleship!

* * * *
The Snow White

Sal Brookes had moved from the chair to the floor, on the assumption that as the air ran out, it was better to stay low. Besides, the lack of being able to take deep breaths at all, had started sapping his strength.

His eyes snapped open at a sound, a voice, coming from the commo board: "Blade Dancer to Snow White, w-where are you? I.. I can't tell where you're transmitting f-from."

Finally, someone had heard him.

Half rolling towards the sound, Sal stretched up with his right hand, fingers probing the air, to try to reach the communications panel.

* * * *
Bantha-s-class assault shuttle, Mako

The Calamari captain of the Secret Galactic Intelligence Service' transport ordered the crew to slow the ship.

Despite the Jod's call to hold nothing back, he was becoming increasingly reluctant to pitch his ship and the four X-Wing snubships against the comparatively huge Star Destroyer that they had trailed into the wreckage.
Another turbolaser bolt flashed out to vaporise a large piece of wreckage floating half in it's path.

They were just fortunate that the Imperial warship had no backward-facing guns.

"Basic design flaw, right there," He observed aloud in the gravelly tones that most Mon Cals had.

"Captain?" Engineer Luten enquired from his side station, behind and to the right of him.

"Nothing."

Luten checked his scopes again. "Captain, the star destroyer is clearing the debris field."

The senior officer turned in his sterile white command chair, to eye the engineer. "Yes yes, I see that." He replied testily, "I expect that is what all the turbolaser action is."

Luten sighed. "I mean, she is moving beyond the field, and will soon be in clear space."

"Oh, I see." Captain Pavel checked his own scanner repeaters, and noticed something else. "Hello. We have a Z-95 snubship approaching our proximity." He pressed a few coloured buttons, giving him personal control over one of the ship's two Golan Arms quad-laser emplacements, a fair bit bigger and more dangerous than the Taim & Baks carried by the 'Delinquent

On the hull of the ship, above the left loading arm, the four-barrelled turret hummed round to cover the snubship.

Tag: Masha, Kilo

 

IC: Jason Lasso
Cockpit, Luck's Gamble (Sentinel-class Landing Craft), Port Haven Skies, Port Haven


The swarm of TIEs never seemed to lessen. Dark dots everywhere filled the sky all around them, some larger groups of dots then others. Some dots were being chased by other dots with lasers firing out of the the later dark dots. As the dots got closer, visual could be made out that they were in fact starfighters. But no matter where they came from, TIEs swarmed like bees to their home when under attack, they came from everywhere. It seemed like, for several moments, that the TIEs would overwhelm them, the combined Jod and Merc forces just too little. But no matter the TIE swarm's strength in numbers, turbolaser blasts from above ran large holes through their ranks, so no matter how fast they replenished their depleted numbers, sooner or later the TIEs would run out of friendlies. The question was, could the Luck's Gamble hold out against the TIE swarm? The Jod turbolaser blasts were getting increasingly close as the TIEs closed the gap, a Jod starfighter falling to a friendly turbolaser blast as it shot through a group of TIEs in front of him. But, if the Jod didn't fire so close, then Luck's Gamble would already being destroyed.

Lasso watched as the destroyed Jod fighter's---a victim of his own people's close fire support---fiery debris disappeared behind the shuttle and fell through the sky. The Jod were nuts to protect a bunch of mercenaries on a prophecy...but Lasso would never question their honor. So many had already died since after Asteroid One to keep the Mercs safe and for what? So the Empire could still win?

"THERE!" Yelled Havoc Neb, point towards the sky as a black shape---a massive black shape---started to blot out the sun and cast a darkness above all. All around the shape, weaponry of all kind decended upon the enemy like an angry monster from a legend.

"I see it!" Jason said, unstrapping from the co-pilot seat, "I'll take the controls."

"Sir...?" Havoc asked, "I am the best choice for this shuttle."

"The shuttle, yea. But not that landing. Its time I use these 'Natural Hands' of mine. Now switch seats."

Havoc nodded, unstrapped, and switched seats with Jason. The mercenary Captain strapped in and took the shuttle off auto pilot, which Havoc had it on for the switch of flying duties.

"Okay," Jason said as the Light-class Destroyer made air trails all around her as she descended with her special ability very quickly, "Lets see what this baby can do."

"Captain," Havoc pointed out, "That tank is going to add drag to us."

"You worry about comms and sensors. I'll worry about the tank," Lasso replied hastily, saying quietly to himself, "Okay Captain, time to prove yourself."

Music: David Travis Edwards - Transformation (2013)


Jason reached over and switched power from shields to engines, an alarm starting to go off that shields were off, but Jason silenced.

"Captain?" Havoc asked, clearly concerned.

"We need the extra power," Jason said, "And we have heavy armor for a reason, which is about to take a heck of a beating."

It wasn't belong before that statement became truth. The landing craft started taking a beating as the TIEs, now scattered by the entrance of the Light into the middle of their swarm, circled around the edges of their once mighty swarm and pressed the flank attack in a last ditch effort.

"Come on baby, hold together!" Jason pleaded out-loud as the Sentinel took a rather massive hit somewhere off to port and high rear.

"Double concussion missile hit!" Havoc reported, emergency lights screaming and the alien silencing them quickly, "Extensive damage!" Another hit moments later by a group of lucky TIEs making a run on them rocked the shuttle really bad this time, followed by a sucking and decompressing of air from the cargo bay to the rear, "We have a hull rupture!" More alarms went off, but Havoc once again silenced them.

Lasso flipped a switch and the cockpit door sealed itself shut. He couldn't worry about those in the cargo bay, they would have to find something to hold onto to. Or they would all die.

The performance of the landing craft was clearly affected, but the Light was looming large in front of them, Lasso with no intenton of slowing down. The mercenary Captain pushed through the TIE swarm, letting Taab and the Merc/Jod escort worry about defending them. Another hit, this time by another group of TIEs---who were promptly destroyed shortly thereafter by a trailing team of Jod starfighters---scored a critical hit with two concussion missiles backed by a barrage of laser fire from several other TIEs. The effect was several gaping holes in the port wing of the shuttle, the effect of which dragged the shuttle like a sluggard drive propeller of a sea-going ship. Lasso struggled against the sudden drag that sent himself slamming into the left armrest of his seat. The Captain reached out to silence the alarms.

"Havoc, contact that light. Tell them no exterior tractor beams. Just a crash safety net."

"WHAT!?" Havoc all but said in shock.

"Tractor beams will slow us down," Jason said, hearing the strain on the hull of the shuttle as it creaked and groaned in wounded protest, "And I don't know how much longer this baby will hold together." Outside, a Jod starfighter blew apart under the barrage of a pair of TIE Fighters. Despite that, the TIEs still focused on the shuttle, taking out escorts only when they needed to.

Another blast of TIE lasers ripped into the hull somewhere to starboard and above from the sounds of it, the TIEs explosion at the hands of one of the Light's gunners rocking the landing craft and sending debris into her armor.

"Message sent," Havoc said, as the Light's hanger bay was just above them now, "Care to slow down?"

"Not yet," Jason said, "Prepare to detach tank!" Jason said, lowering the landing skids more as a means to help slow them down then for actually landing. The Jod hanger deck would need to be resurfaced anyways after the crash landing.

"YOUR CRAZY!!!!" Havoc said as Lasso started to yell in protest to the destiny of death today.

"COME ON!!!!!!" Jason yelled as he suddenly put on the breaks and cut the engines out moments before entering the destroyer's mag field. The sudden deceleration slammed everyone back into their seats, but the forward momentum---despite gravity---carried the shuttle into the hanger bay, "Detach tank!" Jason ordered.

The sudden weight in balance wobbled the landing craft as the tank landed somewhat okay on the hanger deck, the in balance sending the already flying duck into an awkward bounce off of the destroyer's interior upward hanger ceiling, as emergency shields protected the interior hanger and emergency tractor beams tried to capture (and did slow down and redirect the landing craft at least) the landing craft inside the hanger bay. The deflection----or more of a crunching blow to the cockpit of the shuttle against the interior of the hanger's shields for such an emergency---crunched everything inwards, bounced the landing craft off to the left and downwards, shearing off the starboard wing on a tractor beam emitter above.

The landing craft, already powerless and without a wing, spun like a drunkard to the hanger deck, the port wing crushing under the flat landing on the deck surface, the landing struts all but being crushed under the crashing weight of the landing craft. As the shuttle landed, a sickening crunch of armor and landing craft frame could be heard. Lasso was rocked around in his seat, the pure G-force of such a rapid impact on the body sending his organs crushing into his insides. Soon, the ordeal was over, various consoles smoking or sparking and alarms going off.

Music: End

"Cargo bay?" Jason asked through the intercomm.

"All here, Captain," Biggs' voice came back from the cargo bay, "Although next time, a little warning before trying to kill yourself would be nice. Because we don't care to be joining you, if you know what we mean. Savy?"

"Savy," Jason replied, looking across the cockpit as blood trickled down his face from a cut on his head somewhere, "Everyone else okay in here? Havoc? Taab?"

Jason started to unstrap his crash webbing as emergency crews started cutting through the emergency hatches to gain entrance into the shuttle.

"Alive, captain," Havoc said.


TAG ALL

 

IC: Kilo "Papa Zulu" Typhon
Location: Underneath the Delicate Delinquent

While his T65 X-Wing starfighter flying head-on toward the enemy TIE fighters, Kilo had a moment to think, review, and reflect on the events of the last week of his life.

First, he realized what a horrible, disgusting, and inhumane organization the Empire is and left their service. AWOL, he stole a dead Rebellion pilot's X-Wing, convinced the astromech droid aboard to fly him off of the small planet they were on, and barely escaped the area before his former comrades shot him down.

Kilo and his new droid, Sev, escaped to his home planet of Atzerri and he managed to hide out there for about a day and a half. Then Imperial Agents showed up and forced him to flee via a random hyperspace jump. Thankfully, he did not end up in the middle of some small sun on the outer-rim. Instead, he dropped into normal space in the middle of an intense space battle.

And now he was part of that extended battle allying himself with a bunch of guys he barely met, hardly knew, and had no idea how they were led or organized.

As the lead TIE Fighter opened fire on Kilo's X-Wing, the realization hit him like a smack on his forehead. "What am I doing?" he groaned. He felt something tug at the back of his mind and before he knew what he was doing his hands grabbed at the controls and pulled him into a spinning dive toward the enemy ships. Time seemed to slow as the superheated plasma rocketed between his spinning wings with a window of error smaller than the span of his hand.

Behind him, Sev beeped and booped and Kilo failed to verbally respond. Instead, he felt a pressure in his brain and what seemed like sudden realization flooded through him. He relaxed, felt himself loosely sink back into his chair, and his fingers pressed the correct buttons. A proton torpedo shot forward toward the two single-file TIE Fighters.

The lead pilot saw it coming and rolled away form Kilo's fire, but the second had no time to react. It exploded in a brilliant shower of yellow, orange, and red light. Kilo pressed the throttle on his fighter harder and it shot through the expanding cloud of molecular debris and came out the other side of the dissipating explosion with a grin from ear to ear.

"Alright, Sev," Kilo felt a cockiness and assurance in his abilities that he had never felt before. "Track that other fighter. Let's have some fun."

Tag: @ Sith-I-5

 

IC: Masha Tinovorsh
Whendyll Outskirts, near Mako, hiding among debris field

An explosion rocked Blade Dancer, Masha's head hit the canopy with a light thud. She tried to rub her head out of instinct, she felt her helmet. Throttling up she moved through the debris to get some distance from the Star Destroyer clearing the debris. "Ow... " Masha said, her head still hurting a little, she must've hit the canopy harder than she thought.

Masha looked over to the ships trailing the Star Destroyer. She was sure they'd seen her the bridge had a rounded view port, all one would have to do is squint to see her little red fighter hiding in the wreckage. Hopefully the destroyer isn't paying the wreckage much mind, Masha thought, noticing one of their lasers. They haven't fired on me, yet, she tried to come up with a plan, hail the shuttle risking the imperials picking up her transmission... Although they were likely more concerned with their destination and keeping wreckage away from impacting them. Doing what she could to direct the communication towards the Mako. That really is a beautiful ship, in an odd way. She thought as she hailed the Mako.

TAG: @Sith-I-5

 

IC: Captain Leroy Jenkins, Captain Yavscout, Lieutenant Smart Sweet, Light-class destroyer, House of Vimal; jungle; and the Trixie Belle, respectively
Location: Port Haven


Jenkins hadn’t expected to be beaten into the atmosphere by the doomed Cimmerian, but the Vindicator knifing through the cloud cover had opened a route of visibility for the Jod warship to deliberately fall among the TIEs while the flame wreathed Imperial cruiser headed for the ocean west of the land mass.

Like any veteran ship commander, Jenkins prided himself on knowing and interpreting whatever sound that his ship made, but saying that, he was not above asking for clarification from his crew.

clang…clong clang

The captain frowned at the sound echoing through his decks. That was new. “What the feth was that?”

“A tank, apparently.”

“Tank?” Leroy echoed in surprise.

“You’re velkom.” The speaker turned back to his readouts.

CLOOOMB!

“And that?”

“The Luck’s Gamble, Sir. We have Lasso’s shuttle, safe in the bay.”

“Good job, everyone.” The captain acknowledged, looking at the bridge personnel with a grin, “let’s get the flock-”

“Waaiit…waaiit…”

CRASH!

“And that?”

“The Trixie Belle, sir. She got holed by enemy fire, and requested an atmo’ pickup.”

“Alright, seal us up, and get us out of here! I want everyone; shuttles, fighters, freighters, even kites made from cosian wood and bits of string; everyone out of the atmosphere NOW!!!” When that Vindicator crashed, he expected one mother of an explosion, the shockwave alone would knock 'em out of the sky. “Helm?”

“On it.”

* * * *
Jungle

Yavscout travel back to his starfighter was like a soccer-playing Atlas. Weighed down by the occupied pilot seat on his right shoulder, he booted Davina fifty metres towards the treeline, loped over to join it, and kicked it towards the nearest supine Imperial trooper, while behind and above him, the huge black-grey cylinder that was the Jod destroyer turned on it’s central axis to do the vertical equivalent of a handbrake turn, and aim its rumbling engines down at the ground, then fed nuclear power to them, the nozzles flaring white to push the 450m capital ship slowly back up through the clouds.

Another general message came over his helmet comlink: "This is the House of Vimal. Everyone, out of the atmosphere now. Move move move. All other priorities rescinded."

The elf jogged up to the downed soldier, firing in a Major Heal.

Yav was no Imperial, but he was a Surefall Paramedic. He had responsibilities.

Putting the seat down as gently as he could, and dropping to one knee, he searched and patted the prone Imp till he found his comlink, grabbed it up, and signalled: “Emergency Code Zero, Emergency Code Zero. All Imperial ground forces require immediate extraction from Port Haven. When that cruiser hits the water, you guys are going to have a tsunami down here.”

“Who is this? What is your operating number?” The voice at the other end responded.

“Ah, I’m guessing you are indoors? Try looking out of a drokking window instead of asking who I am.” He stood and flung the comlink away. “Boring conversation anyway.”

[You know, Brief’s not exactly married to that seat. You could leave it behind?] Davina advised.

“Ah, that would make too much sense.” Yav rounded the chair, pressed both hands to the restraint buckle at the man’s midriff, and pressed in hard enough to feel pain in his fingers through the navy-blue gloves, before the thing released. He cast Levitate onto Brief, to make him lighter than air, which even if he had done that earlier, would not have worked on the chair, being an inanimate object.

In his minds eye, he could see colourful pictures or icons representing the spells, or ‘buffs’ that he had cast upon himself, to augment his abilities, and one was flashing, meaning the spell, Skin Like Steel was ending.

“Oooh.” He vocalised, giving the R4 a sobering glance. If he hadn’t noticed that and kicked it again, he’d have known about it. He re-cast the buff, translucent green sparkles showering over him as his arms did the involuntary up and down bit.

From Davina’s next statement, it was clear that her…its’ photoreceptors and scanners could not see the magical effect, and assumed the hand-waving was him worshipping it.

[Kneel before Zod! Ah!] It added as Yav kicked it into the trees, put Klammern over his shoulder, the other’s head and chest lolling down his back, and ran after the spherical droid as it got deflected off a tree trunk.

[Alright, I'm getting mixed signals here-Oww!]

“Tell me later.” The elf chased it again, noticing for the first time that the smooth, black shell was dented, scratched and dirty now. The pilot probably wouldn’t even recognise it. “Well, he better not trade it in for a new one, not after all this.”

Through the trees, he could see the scorched crater where he had landed, and felt his spirits rise at the sight.

* * * *
House of Vimal hangar bay

Lieutenant Sweet’s seat dropped slowly through the floor of the Trixie Belle’s cockpit to allow him to exit the ship, and as the outer airlock opened, he could see grey-tunic’d medical personnel running into the large bay.

There was a heavy smell of smoke in the air, too much to be from just his ship and the crunched Sentinel in the wall to the left of his craft.

The red-flightsuited pilot moved to watch rescue workers start cutting their way into the Luck’s Gamble.

The sight reminded him of the passengers in his own craft. His eyes widened. “Flying rancors!” he waved to techs and rescuers, “My ship, I got people on my ship who need help too.”

Someone put a foil wrap over his shoulders as he turned to see medics heading up the nose ramp into the ‘Belle.

Less than a hundred metres away, the Officer of the Deck was directing people to the upside-down tank. "Get that wreck out of the way!"

"No no wait!" Someone else gesticulated to the officer. "Reacher is coming to get his holo taken with it."

"Oh alright. But make it snappy."

Sweet smiled to himself. The House of Vimal was a relatively small ship, only 855 crew, so he knew Reacher was one of the hangar tractor operators. A good man.

That had been good control catching the dropped tank on the fly, so yeah, he deserved at least a picture of himself with the thing.

Tag: Taab, Lasso and Company, anyone in the atmosphere

OOC: Thank you to Bravo for the “Ah, that would make too much sense.” line.

 

IC: Jason Lasso
Cockpit, Luck's Gamble (Sentinel-class Landing Craft), hanger bay of Light-class Destroyer House of Vimal


Lasso was shutting the systems down, releasing the crash webbing, when he relived, briefly, parts of the events with Hilick Soal...

...Lasso limped down the Sentinel-class landing craft's ramp a few minutes later, his left leg feeling somewhat of a twisting pain from the crash landing; the blood had slowed to a trickle down his face, leaving a dried remnant. Everyone from the shuttle was behind him as they walked down the ramp; ahead of the Mercs were a gathering group of medical and fire personnel, apparently the Luck's Gamble was smoking somewhere, as red shirted fire crews deployed hose lines and hastily deployed their personnel to some unseen threat Lasso could not see at the moment. But whatever the fire threat, it wasn't enough to stop the thunderous applause from the gathered Jod at the Luck's Gamble's return. Whatever it was---maybe the Mercs' dealings with the Jod's prophecy----their Jod allies were clearly glad to see them. The hanger crew gathered all around, clapping and shaking their hands. For what, Lasso didn't know, outside of the prophecy. Because the Jod had sacrificed much in the rescue of a bunch of mercenaries.

A deck officer came up, "Captain Lasso?" the man asked.

Jason nodded, "Yes. My men need medical attention."

"You, sir, need med---"

"My crew first," Jason said, indicating the men behind him, "Can you show me to the bridge, please? I need to talk with your Captain."

"Yes, sir."


TAG Bardan_Jusik, Sith-I-5

 

IC: Captain Yavscout, Port Haven Jungle


The parked ARC-170 starfighter was going to be fully “crewed” for the first time since Yavscout had borrowed it.

Flight Officer Klammern was in the middle seat, and Davina was about to be rolled into the droid socket at the back, the elf having almost put his back out manouvering the bastiche thing in there.

He gave the spherical droid a lost push with both hands, to roll it into the round socket.

[This is not gonna work.] Davina blooped as she rolled.

“This was your idea, remember; I was going put you in the back seat.”

The elf frowned as she disappeared into the hole, then heard a soft thud from under the ship. Tentatively, he backtracked painfully to see what the noise was, only to find Davina under the socket!

“You fell through?”

[I didn’t have all the facts. That socket is designed for R2 and R4 agri-mech models.].

“Oh, you-”

“Get the girl!”

What girl? Yav thought. He straightened, “And who said that?”

An invisible force yanked him away from the side of the ship, rolling him against the side of the crater, several metres away, spitting out dirt that had gotten in through the open helmet visor.

“What in the original frag?!” he demanded of the world, then caught sight of the silver-armoured figure standing in the crater with him, while the shadow of an Imperial Dropship Transport banked away overhead, and disappeared over the tree-line to the East. “Oh, ‘ello.”

The man’s suit bore the generic design favoured by Palpatine’s Royal Guard, but in shiny grey metal rather than crimson armour, A robe wafted in the breeze behind him.

The elf pointed a finger as he pulled himself off the floor, slapping dirt off his flank. “Imperial. Right?”

The other drew himself up. “I am Twelve. A Saber Guard in the service of the Emperor.”

Yav continued brushing himself down, looking down at his himself and ignoring the adversary. “If you have a business card, I could take it with me.” He was visualising himself rushing right up to the Imp, dodging to the right, doing almost a hand-stand to plant his right hand in the dirt, while his legs simultaneously smashed the Saber Buard in the chest, and the back of the legs - classic Scissor Throw technique. Now, as long as this frakker isn't telepathic.

Twin snap-hums caught the elf's attention to see apparent saber guard holding two up-pointing white lightsabre blades.

Ah-ha. You are telepathic.

“You are coming with me for interrogation.”

“Well, at least we now know you’re not clairvoyant.”

Whirling Wind

As soon as the magical gale sucked the Imp off the ground, Yavscout was sprinting for his fighter, leaping into the cockpit before the other fell to the far side of the crater.

Moments later, the jungle was a distant memory and ARC-170 was thundering out of the atmosphere, orienting on the welsome sight of the huge Allegiance battleship, hanging above the white-rimmed curvature of the planet like a big fish surrounded by near-microscopic plankton.

"Davina?" Brief Klammern queried from behind.

“Drokk Davina.” Yav keyed the comlink. He felt a bit more regret at her loss than he put in his tone, but there had been no time. “Surefall Lead here. I'm bringing in a casualty; the pilot of Escort Three-Seven.”

“Surefall Lead from Allegiance. We have a space for you in our hangar, and medical team standing by. Plus, we do have your droid, and he is looking forward to seeing you.”

The elf managed a wry smile, and set course for the larger Jod ship.

Tag: any

 

IC: ISB Investigator Hilick Soal"
Bridge, Imperial I-class Star Destroyer Darkest Night; "Project Zero," top secret Imperial Research Site, Red Rock Planet


Victory. At last.

Hilick remained rigid, as did all officers and crew, on the bridge of the Darkest Night; they stood in rank and file looking outwards towards the Red Rock Planet from the bridge. Where it started, the Emperor had decided to finish it. Standing, gazing out of the bridge, the Emperor himself stood, with a pair of Imperial Royal Guards flanking him. A couple of Imperial Advisers stood near the Emperor's side as well.

Despite the Emperor's personal congratulations---which Hilick knew was all a game for the Emperor---Hilick felt afraid, to say the least, to approach. A pair of Royal Guards, assigned to the Darkest Night for the protection of it's mission and, as Hilick knew it, the Emperor's eyes and ears, stood flanking Hilick and the senior officers of the Darkest Night. At a moment's notice, every Royal Guard and Imperial Stormtrooper would slaughter the whole crew without a moment's hesitation if so ordered by the Emperor.

But for now, Hilick---like everyone else---watched in amazement as the Red Rock landscape----once fiery rocks and lava---transformed before everyone's eyes as the last bit of Red Rock was returned to it's rightful place. Green grass, oceans, oxygen, sky, clouds, mountains, lakes, deserts, forests, jungles---everything that made a planet as lush and fruitful as any---came alive as it spread across the planet like wildfire, the Force itself transforming the planet. Although not many people, maybe besides the Emperor, knew it was the Force that gave the Red Rock it's true power.

"Finally," the Emperor spoke quietly, but just loud enough for Hilick to hear from a few feet away to his rear.

Then Hilick saw a flash from around the planet, like a visible flash of quick light. The Darkest Night was in position just ahead of the Emperor's personal fleet, which was clustered a good distance away from the planet in a defensive formation. The Red Rock Planet's own defense forces were stretched around the planet in a staggered defense formation and were much closer to the planet, Project Zero's personal research station hung in high orbit above the planet.

Hilick knew something was wrong. He was no scientist or doctor, but he didn't have to be a brilliant engineer to understand something was off. Emperor or not, the Darkest Night was his ship, his mission. He didn't have to wait for a bunch of high level politicians to make a military man's decision, which Hilick tecnhincally wasn't either since he was ISB, but this was his ship.

"Darkest Night, shields to full! Blast shields over all viewports! Emergency action, get us away from the planet at flank speed!" Hilick ordered with a bark. There was a startled silence as everyone looked at him, the Emperor slowly turning around to face him. Hilick repeated quietly as the Emperor faced him down, "Now, Darkest Night," Hilick gulped at the Emperor's stare, "That's an order."

"The research station is reporting elevated levels of a chain reaction on the planet!" Said the communications officer, "They advise all---"

It was too late. The Emperor snapped around, as if alerted by something (which was the Force), to face the bridge as the planet was suddenly swallowed by a massive Black Hole. The wake of the planet's sudden departure into a black hole, the Research Station following, sucked also the closet Imperial starships almost immediately, those behind the black hole maybe the lucky ones. Starships collided and exploded into one another and were simply ripped apart as the gravitational pull of the black hole pull everything into it's opening.

Alarms went off everywhere. The Darkest Night, despoite her distance, was started to be dragged in that direction. People fell to the deck, even the Emperor. "Full energy to the engines, now! Full reverse, plot the nearest mirco jump out of here!" Hilick ordered.

"As ordered, Investigator!" Yelled Helms Control.

Despite full power, smaller ships all around them were being yanked towards the black hole, explosions happening all around. "Order one of the larger capital ships to tractor beam us in!" Hilick ordered above the yelling on the bridge as officers rushed crew members through orders and others, like Imperial Advisers, scrambled for their lives. Nothing worked, Hilick could feel the Darkest Night started to be torn apart.

MUSIC

Despite full power to engines, the mighty Star Destroyer was being drawn towards the growing black hole. Outside the viewports, a ISD collided with another ISD as both were sucked towards the Black Hole.

If they abandoned ship, the escape pods would be sucked into the black hole even easier. It was here or nothing!

"Helm, redirect course towards the black hole!" Hilick ordered.

"You fool!" the Emperor demanded as Royal Guards picked him up from the floor.

"No my Emperor," Hilick said with sudden power, "Serving my Master and crew!" Hilick said, looking back to the bridge, "Now men! Seal all corridors, shields to full, full power to the engines! Navigation, plot a course to the left of that Black Hole! Now men, if you want to survive!"

Men burst into action across the bridge, the Darkest Night suddenly releasing it's grip on death and allowing itself to be sucked towards the black hole. Ships all around them were being sucked with them, some ships half hulks already, others having their debris and personnel floating all around and being sucked towards the black hole. A few lucky ships were still intact and operation, but nonetheless being sucked towards the black hole.

"Navigation, plot a mirco jump on my mark to the left of the black hole!" Hilick ordered as he struggled into the captain's seat and strapped himself in, saying quietly to himself, "Now, Captain Lasso, to our coming destinies we shall rush forth!" Hilick raised his voice, "Weaponry, blast anything in our way! We can't control our---" a massive collision from another helpless ship tore off the port shield and sensor dome, "---our course of travel from other collisions with other ships," Hilick finished after their now destroyed dome and a the bridge of an Imperial Star Destroyer shot past ahead of them in the bridge viewport.

The black hole now loomed ahead.

"Event Horizon ten thousand meters and closing!" Said the sensors officer.

"Wait for it," Hilick said, grinning like a pirating fool from his captain's chair; the black hole loomed closer now, a rather big hulk of one of the massive carriers looming in front of them, "Tractor beams, lock onto that Imperial carrier! Engines, give me everything you got to port!"

"But Investigator, the carrier is being sucked to starboard!" Yelped a bridge lieutenant.

"You fool!" Said the ship Captain, "The Investigator is going to sling shoot us off of a greater gravitational body and then mirco jump us out of here! Tractor beams, NOW for Force sake!"

"Negative, Captain," Hilick soal said, "Gravitational field. It won't work," Hilick clicked a button on his comlink, "Engineering?"

"Engineering here!" Came a hurried voice.

"Chief, eject the core. Put it to self-destruct. Put everything you have into the engines and we'll blow the core to shoot us away."

"But Investigator! I'm giving the engines everything I have already!"

"Give it more Chief! That's an order. Your the Chief Engineer, find a way."

"Okay, but I'll have to take off the safety measures."

"Then do it, Chief. You have only seconds. Hilick Soal out."

"Target lock!" Tractor beams said.

"Engines to full port, flank speed!" Yelped Helm control.

The Darkest Night groaned in protest as the sudden strain as the mighty ISD gave all power to port and dragged to starboard, "Hold!" Hilick said.

"She's breaking apart Investigator!" Yelped a damage control officer in reference to the Darkest Night, "Hull strain at ninety-eight percent! We can't take much more!"

"Tractor beams, release! Helm, full speed! Engineering, drop the core!" Hilick ordered.

The tractor beams released, for a moment the Darkest Night drifting a bit to starboard towards the black hole.


"Shields to full!" Yelped the Captain, "Brace for impact!"

"Core dropped! Emergency power only, we have enough juice left in the drive thrusters for a final burst!"

"Then do it! Blow the core!"

The Darkest Night was swept hard to port as the core exploded with a massive explosion, the engine thrusters shooting the ship away as fast as they could on emergency power.

Then, suddenly, they were clear of the black hole, alarms, fires, and smoke filling the bridge. But they were alive.



NO TAG


Reference

The exploding core idea is taken from Star Trek Voyager.

 

OOG:

ATTENTION ALL PLAYERS AND STAFF


Please finish up your exits out of Port Haven. By next weekend (Friday night), I want everyone to have their posts finished up, so we can proceed to our Epilogues for a week. The one exception from this rule is Sith-I-5, due to DRL.

---

IC: Jason Lasso
Bridge, Light-class Destroyer House of Vimal


Lasso walked onto the bridge of the House of Vimal, a few of his Mercs behind him. A senior Jod naval officer and two Naval Guards had escorted them up this way.

"Ah, the prophecy has arrived," Captain Leroy Jenkins commented, "The Mercs. A pleasure."

"A bit of sarcasm?" Jason asked, shaking the man's hand.

"Not if losing one of the best Light crews and Captains in the Kingdom's Navy is any indication of one," Jenkins replied boldly.

"Fair," Lasso replied, watching as Port Haven rolled under them as the Light was already back in space and racing, along with the Allegiance and other forces for the far side of the sun, "It won't be in vain."

"I hope not," Jenkins said, "I was expecting the new leader of the Mercs to be older and bigger. Not a boy. And not a bounty hunter and scoundrels backing him up."

"Not everything is fought with nobility and money, Captain," Lasso said.

"But it is with honor, Captain Lasso. And a bounty hunter and a young Corellian boy are anything but that."

Lasso smiled, "Well, I guess we'll have to surprise you."

Jenkins forced a thin smile back, "I doubt that, Captain."

"Then all the sweeter the victory, Captain. Where are we headed?"

"Actualize Station."

"Good, " Lasso said, "And the DD?"

"We'll meet her and the Eleventh Hour out of system before we jump."

"I see," Jason nodded, "And you?"

"A soldier, sir, and ready to follow my orders. You and your Mercs are the prophecy. So what now....sir?"

"We get revenge....bloody revenge." Lasso said.


TAG ALL

 

IC: Lieutenant Zotoman, Private Philippa, Chief Engineer Tim Williams, Technician Flavin, , bridge of the Delicate Delinquent


The Authority liaison officer looked out the front windows as the Nebulon-B drew steadily closer, almost blocking off their view of space, while red lines of fire from their own topside quad emplacements chsed the TIEs that flew over the hull, strafing their shields.

He did not want to be in this position, especially as this close to the frigate, it could finish them off any time, but this was the best position to keep her and the departing star destroyer covered by their gravity well generators.

He had almost no sight of the rest of the battle going on, except what he could see on his tactical holograph by the command chair where he sat.

"Lieutenant!" Philippa cried, "Long-range scopes show Allegiance and the others departing Port Haven and swinging round to the sun."

"That's it, get us out of here. Shut off gravity wells, and full reverse. Recall all fighters and shuttles." Zotoman turned as Chief Williams huffed through the doors at the back of the bridge. "Chief."

"Okay, we think we have come up with a solution for the shields-" Tim stopped in his tracks as he took in the sight of the frigate through the windows. "Bloody hell, you have let that thing get a bit close, haven't you?"

"Working on it now, Chief."

Loretta opened a transmission to all friendly Merc and Jod frequencies. "Disengage. Disengage. Return to your host vessels, and prepare for immediate departure."

The engines thrummed under the decks as power was applied to them, and the interdictor started to back away.
The ship shuddered and stopped, throwing people back, either deeper into their seats, or if they were standing, forcing them back a step or two.

"Tractor beam! And enemy contact. Second star destroyer. Same position as where the first appeared."

"Flavin, did you work out an alpha site?"

The technician returned to his controls without turning, and answered without looking at Williams. "You had me stop."

"Well, we need one now, so we can jump out, then double back to meet up with Allegiance."

As if it had heard them, the frigate piled turbolaser fire mercilessly into their dorsal shields.
PHOOOOMM-PHOOOOMM-PHOOOOMM-PHOOOOMM-PHOOOOMM!

A heavy shake accompanied each hit, till-

"Shields are down!"

Williams, Zotoman and the others gazed out at the Imperial vessel, waiting for the final shot that would start the chain reaction that would tear their ship apart. But none came.

The orange-clad engineer discovered his senses first. "Alright, we're done. Abandon Ship-"

"Belay that." Zotoman interjected.

Tim stared at the dark-skinned Jod. "Why?"

"They've got us where they want us-"

Silent near-horizontal turbolaser blasts pummelled into the frigate's side from an unseen source, presumably The Eleventh Hour.

"-more or less. How much does one of these babies cost?"

"With nappies, fifty-two mill'. Flavin, alpha site!"

One of the quad-laser emplacements between the gravity domes angled to face the frigate and opened fire till a single turbolaser bolt silenced it, short-lived fire and atmosphere geysering into space.

"Movement." Philippa reported.

Williams stepped past the Jods, closer to the triangular ports. A sloped hatch was sliding up on the Nebulon-B's upper hull, revealing the dark rectangle of a hangar.
He squinted, peering into the darkness. There was something moving.

Outside of the frigate, a Skipray Blastboat swooped round the frigate's bow, between it and the DD' bridge, upper right to bottom left.

Williams turned. "Contact the Skiprays. If any of them still have torpedoes, we need them to knock that tractor out."

"On it. Delicate Delinquent to any Skiprays, any friendly fighters, we are trapped by a tractor beam from the Imperial frigate. Can anyone knock this thing out, please."

"Okay, navputer is re-compiling a list of nearby jump points." Flavin reported, setting the program running, then looked up. "Chief? Look."

Tim looked. A compact, stubby-winged shuttle was emerging from the open bay, now nosing down towards the hull.
"Katarn-class boarding shuttle?" He queried aloud, then realised the operative word of the statement, "Sithspawn! We're being boarded!"

"Security Twos to Deck Fourteen."

"Get those gunners out of there!" Even as he watched, the boarding shuttle made a beeline for the ragged hole in the hull where a turbolaser bolt had destroyed a quad-laser turret.

* * * *
Nate Legnash - Deck Fourteen

Nate did not know why the Nebulon-B had been allowed to close within almost point blank range on them; either stupidity, ignorance, or concerns above his pay grade, but he felt when the tractor beam hit, and knew that the ship he was on had been trapped by the Imperial vessel.

Still, the people running this place had gotten him out of that deep-space prison. He wasn't abandoning his post for any-one.

His resolve got shaken a bit when one of the other emplacements got destroyed with a too- accurate OTK, a One Shot Kill.

"Ooh."

Then he saw the shuttle. It was an unfamiliar type, getting closer. "Crap, we are going to be boarded."
He swung the four-barrelled laser towards it and strafed the thing, not caring now if the frigate ended him right there.

The shuttle kissed the hull, several dozen meters further along from where he was.

A warning echoed throughout the ship: Security Twos to Deck Fourteen..

* * * *
Sounil Mistry - Deck Four

The twi'lek female manning the Atgar F-14 anti-personnel laser dish, was licking the pad of her forefinger to apply the makeshift salve to where she had barked a shin during the bombardment, when the public address system called for the security personnel.

Worried, she frowned at her three rag-tag companions. "Deck Fourteen? That's where Nate is."

The sound of many heavy footfalls drew her attention to the opening main hangar blast doors, and the half-dozen Go Team troopers in their armoured vacsuits running full tilt up the corridor, past them, and off to the bank of turbolifts.

Security Twos to Deck Fourteen, the P.A. bellowed again, adding, Intruder Alert, Intruder Alert, Deck Fourteen.

"Intruders?" She pulled the E-ll off the belt that was tight around the over-sized white shirt that she wore, checking that it was charged. "You three stay here."

She chased the Go Team. "Hold that lift!"

Tag: Jensen (deck 14), Kilo, Eleventh Hour

---

IC: Captain Pavel (Mon Cal nrc), Engineer Luten, SGIS Bantha-s assault transport, Mako
Location: Whendyll System wreckage field

Pavel nodded at his engineer's report that their hyerdrives were operational again.

"Not sure if that is good news or bad. Either the 'Delinquent shut her gravity generators off, someone made her do it."

He noted that the red Z-95 had not done anything hostile, and according to the telesponder interrogation, the craft's name was Blade Dancer.

While the still visible star destroyer accelerated away, deeper into the star system, he sent a transmission to the fighter. "Blade Dancer from the Mako, you alright out there?"

Disengage. Disengage. Return to your host vessels, and prepare for immediate departure.

"All stop." He ordered, the Bantha slowing its' half-hearted chase of the SD. "That was longer than ten minutes. Turn us around, set course back to the DD."

"Yes, Captain."

Delicate Delinquent to any Skiprays, any friendly fighters, we are trapped by a tractor beam from the Imperial frigate. Can anyone knock this thing out, please?

"Sounds like they are in trouble." Pavel said, stating the obvous for the cheap seats. "We better head back, see what we can do. Although, I want to hear what this Z-95 has to say, first."

The view out the long slash of a viewport wheeled to the right as the ship banked in the opposite direction, coming about for the return trip.

Tag: Masha

 

IC: Masha Tinovorsh
Whendyll System Outskirtswreckage field, near Mako

Masha zeroed in on the distress signal, locating a more in tact part of the Snow White, Masha tried the comms again. "Snow White this is Blade Dancer, please respond," she said, adding "Give me a sign you're still alive in there." Fighting to keep calm, knowing that someone's life was still in her hands, she looked over to the Snow White with a feeling of worry sinking in. Hang in there, whoever you are, She thought.

Her comms came to life, "Blade Dancer from the Mako, you alright out there?" A wave of relief gave Masha a confident tone as she responded, "Mako this is Blade Dancer, all is well on my end. Just a little rattled. There's a survivor in the debris field, transmitting a distress call from ship Snow White. Whoever is there needs immediate extraction. I've located the source, please send personnel recovery craft and a medical team, possible casualties."

Masha hoped to give whoever was aboard what was left of the Snow White some comfort, "Snow White, hang in there. I've made contact with a nearby shuttle and requested help. How many of there are you?" She was angry with herself, she probably should have found out sooner how many people were aboard. Masha feared the worst, that the man whom sent the distress call may be alone. Hoping that he was still alive, the wreckage around them gave her a feeling of dread. "Please, hold on a little longer... I promise I'll get you out of there," she said to herself.

TAG: Sith-I-5

 

IC: Beskaryc Taab
Cockpit, Luck's Gamble (Sentinel-class Landing Craft), Port Haven Skies, Port Haven

Taab's eyes widened slightly under his bucket as the Skipper took the controls and made preparations for their combat landing. This was going to be a rough one, but there wasn't much he could do about it. Instead he settled in and did what he could do, he kept the Luck's Gamble's guns up and running and firing at anything and everything that looked like a hostile target. He noted as shield power was diverted to the engines. That didn't bother him much, he had faced down death far too many times to let another one make him nervous. Instead he shunted some of the guns power over to the engines as well. From here on out he would go with the charge already built up.

That time didn't last long though as Lasso gunned the ship's engines and brought their transport careening into the Jod Destroyer's landing bay. Taab released the gunner's controls and braced himself against the less than ideal landing.

*CLANG*

His head banged hard against the bulkhead, the blow cushioned by his buy'ce (helmet). It was a good thing he had it on, he didn't envy the aruetiise (outsiders) getting thrown about here in the cockpit or back in the cargo area. Oh well, their own shabla fault for not wearing proper protection. Finally the ship came to a screeching halt, and the Skipper called back to the rear for an accountability check. Amazingly everyone seemed to have survived with only minor injuries. He turned his attention to the cockpit.

"Everyone else okay in here? Havoc? Taab?"

Taab shook the cobwebs from his head, he might be seeing stars for a bit but was none the worse for wear. "Fine here Skipper, not the worst landing I have ever been a part of. But close."

They exited the stricken vessel, helping each other to the hangar deck of the destroyer as they were approached by the deck officer.

"Captain Lasso?" the man asked.

The Captain nodded, "Yes. My men need medical attention."

"You, sir, need med---"

"My crew first," indicating the men behind him, "Can you show me to the bridge, please? I need to talk with your Captain."

"Yes, sir."

Taab nodded to Lasso as left. "Don't worry boss. I'll make sure everyone gets to where they need to go."

With that he removed his bucket and after clipping it to his belt he corralled the members of the Mercs and led them off to sickbay.

---

Atin Taab
Cockpit, Crusader (Modified YT-1300), Port Haven Skies, Port Haven

The skies were thick with fighters now, Imperial, Jod, Merc, they all rolled in and around one another in a desperate striil fight, with the Luck's Gamble in the center of the furball. The Crusader rocked as a pair of bolts stabbed at them from above. Atin still had the upper gun mounts slaved to the front, and while Jeth was making short work of fighters that strayed below them, the ship's upper side was more vulnerable. Atin threw the Crusader over in a quick barrel roll, allowing the lower mount to try to clean off the attacker from "above". The Crusader rocked again and Atin glanced over at the shield display. Down to 45%, the Crusader while an excellent bounty hunting vessel, and home, just wasn't built for this sort of close in combat maneuvering

Fortunately Jeth made quick work of the attacking TIE, Atin himself was too busy dodging fire though to look for another target to engage. When the Luck's Gamble finally crashed into the House of Vimal's hanger bay Atin breathed a sigh of relief. He only caught a glimpse of it, but it looked like an especially hard landing. Still he knew his buir (father) would be alright.

With the reason for their being here safely (he hoped) secured Atin yanked back on the yoke and pushed the throttles forward past full military thrust. There was a short yelp from aft as the mother and son pair in the lounge were surprised by the sudden maneuver. How odd, Atin thought, they had been quiet all throughout the actual battle, but that action had caused them to scream. Either that or he had been too focused to notice them while their lives had all been on the line. A group of TIE's tried to break atmo with them, but were struck down by the firing solution form the House of Vimal. It gave them enough of a reprieve to wonder what their next move would be.

TAG: All

---

IC: Captain John Hickory (NPC)
Kingdom's Navy Vessel Eleventh Hour, Whendyll System Outskirts

Though he did his best to hide it from his crew, Hickory was getting frustrated. Despite the combined efforts of both the Eleventh Hour and the Delicate Delinquent, the Tango still hadn't turned tail. In fact she continued to press her attack. "Sir, new energy readings from the frigate!" his sensor officer cried out. "About time, let them go."

His remark caused the sensor officer to turn around in her chair. "Sir, it's not their hyperdrive engines, it's a tractor beam."

"Damn," Hickory slammed a fist into his palm. These Imperials were dug in like ticks. The beam wasn't locked on them, that much was obvious, so the DD must be their target. "Target their beam emitter, see if we can't help shake them lose."

That led to a report from the gunnery officer. "Can't sir, the angles are all wrong."

Hickory scowled. Fine then, they would do this the old fashioned way. "Very well", he said calmly. "Turn us into the frigate and maintain fire on the spar. Drive us right down their throat." He paused as he mashed down on a button on his console, the comm line to engineering. "Engine room, ramming speed."

TAG: Sith-I-5

 

IC: Jason Lasso
Corridors, Light-class Destroyer House of Vimal


Lasso was walking through the corridors of the Light-class Destroyer, the corridors rather cramped and foreshadowing of death in a tin can. And at this moment, if the depth of water pressure wasn't going to kill them in this tin can, then the heat of the nearby sun would; Lasso wiped the rapidly building sweat from his brow. He finally found the medical bay, tucked away by some weird usage of signs around a particular gun battery, and entered. The two Naval Guards just inside the medical bay briefly stopped him, then realizing he was a Merc, let him proceed. Like the rest of the ship, the medical bay was build for practical usage, not comfort. "Chief," Lasso said towards the Security Chief, "How is the crew holding up? And any word from your son, yet? I haven't received any reports of any our forces leaving Port Haven...or of the DD for that matter."


Tag Bardan_Jusik