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

IC: Winterkill
Republic of Watava, Military Base, Mess Hall

Even from where he was gathering the various trays of morning slop and placing them on the repulsor tray-carrier he'd taken, Winterkill could clearly hear the conversation from the loudest table in the mess hall. That would be the one where Captain Taller and a few crew members of the Mercs were sitting at. The latest to join the small gathering was Dernan Vask, a corellian. Winterkill recognized his voice even before he'd looked over his shoulder to confirm his identity.

"I can move just as silently carrying a bandolier full of grenades with loose bouncing pins. I doubt bells would make a difference sir." Havah Jeth said in response to Captain Taller's quip. Winterkill smiled to himself then, as he silently agreed with Jeth. The arkanian was positively noiseless.


?I dunno Jeth,? came Dernan's imput as he slid into a spare seat, ?a bunch o? bells might make you prettier to the women folk around here. But then, we?d need a lot o? bells for that wouldn?t we??

Winterkill had to chuckle at that and he knew the others were laughing out loud. This was a sign that the Mercs were mentally getting ready for a mission, because whether intentionally or not, they all seemed to get 'punchy' right before a mission. The comedy among them really got inspired at these times. However, once mission time began, it was all serious business and all joking was set aside.

The nagai gathered the required amount of soft drinks and silently returned to the table, then immediately began to distribute trays. He spared a glance to Havah Jeth and couldn't think of anything witty to add to Dernan's comment. He simply wasn't 'funny' in any sort of way. He was a killer and a survivor. A morbid joke may escape his lips now and again, but those were situational. Now was not such a time.

"Dernan..." Winterkill said in a low voice, giving the man a nod in greeting and handing him his tray of steaming morning slop.

Truth be told, Winterkill fully anticipated a slew of commentary regarding their nutritional, yet unpalatable morning slop, which he began to consume almost absently. His dark eyes flickered back to the news-feed as he divided his attention between the front door, his comrades and the news updates pouring through the news-feed. Things weren't looking so good for Watava and Lim, and that premonitory feeling was slowly creeping over him once again.

Tag:Mitth, Fanfic, Leigh, ( all in mes hall ), BRAVO, anyone else.

OOC: Yes! Bravo's back. He'll probably have an update here soon. Woot!

 

OOG: Hey everyone, I'm back from the missionary trip.

Okay, we have some people that have posted CS's but haven't posted a opening post yet. For those players, don't freak out, as things are about to get busy. Just add in you're opening post as you see fit and jump in.

We have one more CS about to be posted with another possible Jcer wanting to join. For you folks, as with the players above, don't freak out, just jump into the game when you want to as things start to get busy.

To clarify on character sheets (since someone asked me), yes, we are taking character sheets throughout the game so far.

Don't feel rushed to finish any current tags you have going on.

Here are some links to character details below. All links are from Wookieepedia.

Investigator
CompForce Assault trooper
ISB Central Office
Imperial Navy Trooper
Select Committee
Imperial Navy (Please reference to 'Regional, oversector and strategic command'.
Imperial I-class Star Destroyer (We will be using the STAR WARS The New Essential Guide To Vehicles & Vessels regarding the Imperial I-class Star Destroyer.)
Strike-class medium cruiser
Lancer-class frigate
EF76 Nebulon-B escort frigate
Victory I-class Star Destroyer
Observation (Observ)
Imperial Army Trooper
Storm Commandos


Storyline Post Two


Darkest Night, Imperial-class I Star Destroyer, en route in hyperspace to Planet of Watava, 1 B.B.Y.



The echo of military boots bounced down the mostly empty corridor in the late hours. Unlike their current target of Watava, which was in the early morning hours right now, the Imperial I-Class Star Destroyer Darkest Night cruised along in hyperspace on Coruscant Standard Time being the late evening hours, close to mid-night.

Coming to a bend in the corridor, the white uniformed Imperial Security Bureau officer took a sharp, precise turn to starboard---the only direction he could go. Even in this relatively private atmosphere with no crew members or security devices in sight, Imperial Security Bureau Investigator Hilick Soal kept his well-trained and indoctrinated Commission for the Preservation of the New Order, or COMPNOR, training ingrained in every step and body motion he took---everything about him spoke Imperial.

And he was proud of it.

He had worked his way up to the level of Investigator through years of hard work and loyalty. His wife, child, and him were perfect citizens of the New Order, always eager to rally support for their government and do charity events that benefited the Galactic Empire. With his promotion to Investigator three years ago, he and his wife moved to Coruscant from Kuat. A year later, they had their first child.

For the athletic looking, 6'l foot tall, twenty-seven year old human male with black hair cut just rigid to his forehead and cut to just even with his ears in the back of his head and no sideburns, blue eyes that drove home the perfect healthy life-style of an Imperial citizen yet commanded respect from fellow officers and crew members in th

 

IC: Kailin Veyo
Republic of Watava - Military Base, Mess Hall


Kailin couldn't help but laugh at the teasing of captain Taller. Another merc, a nagai named Winterkill, appeared in the chair beside him. Another master of stealth, he succeeding in making the captain jump yet again.

"Doctor..."

He said simply in acknowledgement of her. Kailin smiled and nodded in thanks. Looking at her pile of papers she took a folder off the top of them and began sorting the contents out into some sort of coherant order. As she did so she heard Rick threaten to equip the stealth team with bells

"I can move just as silently carrying a bandolier full of grenades with loose bouncing pins. I doubt bells would make a difference sir."

?I dunno, a bunch o? bells might make you prettier to the women folk around here. But then, we?d need a lot o? bells for that wouldn?t we??

Kailin glanced up at the newcomer that slid into a vacant seat around the table and resisted the urge to roll her eyes at Dernan Vask. The man had only been with the mercs and stationed on the base for one week, but he was quickly gaining a reputation amoung many of the personell here. And not a one that was good. She had not really had any real contact with him since his arrival, apart from his compulsary medical earlier in the week. Still, he was here, and reputation or not they would undoubtedly end up working together on missions.

"Good morning Dernan"

She said simply as Winterkill handed out the bowls of food and drinks he collected for his fellow mercs.


TAG: Mitth, Fanficfan, Bravo, Any

 

OOG: Hey everyone, get ready for some action!

An important note everyone. Do not take off until you're told to do so---the reason being is of a few things I have planned as GM. So wait until you're told to take off, no exceptions. Thanks.


IC: Terrel Vacks (Locked NPC, GM controlled)
Johnny Boy, high orbit above Watava


He really hated this...really. "Stupid Dog," Terrel Vacks muttered under his breath as he walked onto the bridge of the Marauder-Class Corvette with a cup of hot coffee in his hands, "You should have stayed alive, so I didn't have to do this stupid bridge duty."

Even if anyone had heard him, it wouldn't have mattered all that much since Terrel was Lance 'Dog' Vacks' younger brother and everyone could appreciate a little brother-to-brother smack talking. If they did have a problem with it, Terrel always knew there was a lot of refresher cleaning that could always be done.

Taking a sip of his hot coffee, the 6'1 tall athletic human male savored the liquid that woke him up everyday. "Report," Terrel spoke in a even voice, while wearing just a standard brown tunic, pants, and black belt and shoes with a hand-held comlink on his belt.

"Everything checks out," Chris Streets reported with a smile and added with a smirk, "As usual on my shift."

Coffee or no coffee, Vacks really wanted to knock Chris out for his comment. They were both running twelve hour shifts on the bridge everyday, one rotating after the other, to cover the whole vessel with a loyal and experienced commander in case things went bad ground side; combined with the fact that he and Chris had known each other for way too long it seemed like to Terrel some days, he really didn't want to hear any of the Chiss' smart comments about the rivalry the two had between each other on their shifts and how smooth they went. Terrel would stand by his opinion that his shift was always the better of the two.

With a smile of frustration, Terrel answered, "You're lucky I need you right now or I'd stuff you into an air lock."

"Come on, don't be too jealous, it's hard being as good as me," Streets replied with a grin as he padded Terrel on the shoulder as he walked past in his black jumpsuit and black military boots, with a hand-held comlink on his belt.

"Oh by the Force Streets, get an ego check! The Chiss aren't that good!" The last Vacks heard was Streets' laugh as the blast doors shut behind him. He shook his head at the Chiss' way too big of an ego as he took a drink of his coffee, watching as his shift replaced the Chiss' shift, each crew member giving an update and overview of their shift to the oncoming new shift crew member.

Once everything was done and the old shift had left, chatting down the corridor as they left, the blast doors once again closing, Terrel thought he could relax.

"Commander, we have a problem!" Yelped the male Sullustan Communications Officer, Petty Officer Pa'luva Tok.

There were some days Terrel really hated his job in general as a mercenary and he could mark today down as one of those days...he hadn't even finished his coffee yet! "What do we have, Pa'luva?"

"Sir, our communications are being jammed."

"Sensors are being jammed as well," Reported the Sensors Officer, Chief Petty Officer Wa Yay, a Gossam female.

"Sound general quarters!" Alarms started blaring, as did red warning lights flashing as an announcement came over the loud speaker system ship-wide from the computer system in a robotic male voice,

"General Quarters! This is not a drill. Repeat, General Quarters!"

"Find me a way to communicate with our team ground side! Shields up, weaponry and helm on standby!"

"Weapons are on stand-by!" Reported the Gunnery Officer, Leading Crewman Zack Solosea, a human male.

"Shields up and ready!" Announced Sensor and ComScan Officer Junior Crewman Lance Pots, another human male and the 'young

 

Dernan Vask
Watava Military Base, Mess Hall

Dernan grinned as Winterkill?s soft chuckle reached his ears and a bowl of... stuff... was silently placed in front of him.
?Dernan,? the Nagai greeted him quietly.
?Cheers Winterkill,? he replied before shovelling a spoonful of the stuff into his mouth.
He saw the Merc?s doctor glance at him from the other end of table and quickly swallowed what he was chewing.
?Mornin? Doc,? he muttered before dropping his gaze back to his food. He liked Kailin well enough, as much as you could like a doctor anyway, and he?d had to admire dedication to a good workout on the 2 occasions he?d been in the gym same time as her, but that eye of hers unnerved Dernan. He shoved another spoonful of the gruel into his mouth to cover his discomfort before looking up again.
He was just trying to think of something else to say when he caught the distinctive whine of an ion engine, followed by a rather loud BOOM!
?Sounds like imminent violence captain,? Dernan said as he leapt to his feet, knocking the his chair over in the process. ?Better not have hit my ship,? he muttered as he started running for the hanger.

Tag: all in Mess Hall

 

Janice Toller
Hangar

"Well then F6, that ought to do it," Janice said, climbing out of the Arc-J's cockpit and back onto solid ground. "Now make sure none of those mechanics perform any maintenance next time. This tune up should take thirty seconds, not five min..."

Her remark was interrupted by the distinct BOOM of an exceptionally close explosion and the roar of engines overhead. "What in the hell...?" she thought aloud, darting over to the doorway that led to the runway.

She looked outside, and sure enough, the airfield was being pummeled in a bombing campaign. "I guess we know how the talks went then this morning..." she heard someone remark. One of her P.O.s, Jason Lasso, as it was.

"I suppose that would be an accurate assessment, yes," she replied, "but this is probably not the best place to be discussing it."

TAG: Bravo

 

IC: Winterkill
Republic of Watava, Military Base, Mess Hall

It was odd, this feeling, of belonging, of enjoyment. Winterkill's eyebrows furrowed a little as he tried to banish the feeling he was not sure what to do with, for in all honesty, it unsettled him.
He felt like he was letting his guard down, as if at any given moment, after he'd given in to 'comfort', it would be torn asunder for him.

And that was something he could not abide.....ever again.

A sudden overhead explosion thundered, seemingly all around, drawing Winterkill back to reality. The plates of slop rattled on their trays and a chair fell over.

?Sounds like imminent violence captain,? Dernan said. He'd risen so quickly from his seat, that he'd knocked his chair over in the process. ?Better not have hit my ship,? he muttered as he started running off; a good guess would be that he was heading for the ship's hangar.

Winterkill's eyes narrowed dangerously as he realized what was happening. The base was under attack!! The nagai fought the sudden urge to follow after Dernan, which was his first impulse. Winterkill made several quick hand gestures at Havah Jeth, as he spoke to him in the coded sign-language they used during their stealth mission. Kill.Them.All.

The non-verbal communication was emphatic, though Winterkill's face remained tense, but controlled.

"What are your orders, Captain..." he managed to ask as calmly as it could be expected.

Tag: Bravo, Mitth, others

 

Hey all! Character is GM approved and I'm looking forward to this game! My character and first post.

---

[b]Name: [/b]Hal Crawford (Callsign [i]Tank[/i])
Gender: Male
Age: 32
Species: Human
Homeworld: Nar Shaddaa
Affiliation: The Mercs

[b]Personality [/b]
---Traits: Aggressive, Direct and To-the-Point, Rough around the Edges, Impatient
---Likes: Personal combat and other physical challenges, working on his starfighter, high explosives, strong drinks, gambling, women, loyalty to friends
---Dislikes: Sneaking around, back-stabbers, doing detailed planning, oppression
---Habits: Hal likes the gambling tables of a bar or casino in his down time, getting into bar brawls, and the like. In the absence of those kinds of activities, Hal has been known to find a sparring partner to work out his excess energy.

[b]Appearance [/b]
---Skin Color: Tanned Caucasian
---Hair Color: Black
---Eye Color: Green
---Clothing: Tattered vest over permanently dirty shirts, various well-worn pants and shoes. Armor consists of a matte black plasteel chestplate with a thin durasteel weave underneath and other similar plates that can be strapped to his legs.
---Other Attributes: Hal is a hulk of a man, standing just shy of two meters tall and weighing in at almost 110 kg. He wears his black hair long and usually sweat-soaked either from work, sparring, combat, or a mixture of all three. He usually sports a rugged, short beard that is more from not shaving regularly than any intent on Hal?s part.
---Other Details: A deep scar runs from his wrist on his right hand all the way up the inside of his arm to his shoulder blade, a result of quick and dirty surgery after an injury on Nar Shaddaa.

[b]Weapons: [/b][link=http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/A-280_blaster_rifle]BlasTech A-280 Blaster Rifle[/link], [link=http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/SSK-7_heavy_blaster_pistol]SoroSuub SSK-7 Heavy Blaster Pistol[/link], Small Vibro-Dagger

[b]Starship[/b]
---Name: CY6954X (Four-Ex)
---Class: [link=http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/BTL-S3_Y-wing_starfighter]Koensayr BTL-S3 Y-Wing Starfighter[/link]
---Hyperdrive Class: 1.0
---Weapon(s): 2x Taim & Bak IX4 Laser Cannons, ArMek SW-4 Ion Cannon, 2x Arakyd Flex Tube Warhead Launchers
---Shields: Chempat Shields, 110 SBD Maximum Output
---Sublight Speed: 70 MGLT Normal Output, 1000 km/h Atmosphere
---Crew: 1 required, 1 Astromech, 1 Gunner (Optional)
---Passenger(s): 0
---Max Cargo (kg): 110
---Interior Description: Hal?s personal S-3 Y-Wing has been customized inside to allow the gunner and pilot seats to fold together to serve as a bed. Generally, though, the gunner?s seat is piled high with tools, clothes, and other signs of Hal?s life. The avionics panels are usually stacked back there as well, leaving the ship?s electronics exposed as they are almost constantly under repair.
---Other Details: When Hal set out to find a ship for himself, he needed a ship that was much like himself: rugged, durable, and powerful. Speed and stealth are not it?s strong suit, but if something needs to be wrecked, she gets the job done beautifully. Hal has made a few modifications to the ship other than the interior. The first was done while he still had a partner ? after sustaining heavy fire on a number of missions, the shield system was overboosted by techies on Nar Shaddaa, leaving a system that is almost 50% higher than a standard Y-Wing shields. This comes at a price in speed when the overboost is active, but when demolition is called for, the extra protection has proved to be a life-saver. The second modification was made by Hal after his partner was murdered by Imperials on Nar Shadaa. It is a remote control unit for the gunner?s turret that provides it with three selectors ? free mode, locked forward, and slaved to astromech. He also had his astromech modified to use the system and although not nearly as good as having a true gunner, it does allow him some protection in the rear arc.

[b]The Force [/b]
---Sensitivity: Force Sensitive - Unaware, no training

[b]Biography [/b]
---Personal History: Hal has always lived a rou

 

IC: Rick Taller (Locked NPC and shuttle crew for this mission, GM controlled)
Mess Hall, Headquarters Base, Republic of Watava


Rick Taller was calm, cool, and collective. He calmly put his fork down and took a napkin and wiped his mouth as others in the mess hall scrambled for their battle positions, Dernan Vask among them. He took a calm drink of his water and looked at Winterkill who had asked him the question about orders and shared that look with Havah Jeth as he spoke to the two pilots.

"Get to you're fighters, get ready, and await further orders. And if you would, please, slow Dernan down before he trips over himself. I can't have Kailin taking care of road burn when I need her up there fighting with us."

When the two pilots were gone, Taller went for his comlink and tried to contact the Johnny Boy. Communications were being jammed. "I'm not surprised," Taller muttered as he walked calmly to the hanger, Dak already departing when Dernan had left. The Lambda-Class Shuttle was the 'eye in the sky' for the starfighter squadron and mobile command station. The crew for the shuttle would no doubt already be there prepping the shuttle for launch: they were some of Taller's best officers, pilots, and controllers he had.

Heading down the corridor amidst running base personnel and droids, warning alarms and air raid announcements over the loud speaker, Taller found himself in the hanger, the rest of The Mercs donning their fighter suits and mechanic crews fueling what starfighters had to be fueled, with astromech droids and other droids working around the organic crews and pilots, some astromechs being loaded into their starfighters while others did last minute repair jobs on starfighters and drug missile loads to their starfighters to be loaded.

Taller took a look towards the hanger's side door, explosions rocketed outside and Taller could see that the air base was under heavy attack from just where he stood, not getting the full view of what was going on outside. He took a detour to the pilots' changing rooms---where Jason Lasso ran out, saluting hastily as he ran towards his starfighter---and got dressed into his own white flight-suit and white Rebel Alliance-style starfighter helemt with black flight harness, equipment belt, and blaster holster with his DL-44 Blaster Pistol with scope resting there. This flight suit was what all crew members aboard the Lambda-Class Shuttle wore.

After dressed, he approached the white Lambda-Class Shuttle, the pilot Patty Sands was just running up the loading ramp. Parked towards the rear of the hanger and facing towards the double hanger doors, which were closed at the moment, The Mercs' starfighters sat all in front of the white captured Imperial shuttle.

Walking up the ramp, Taller entered into a passenger bay that had been converted into a command station. One console ran along the port side of the bay, it being the communications console with a flight seat and crash webbing, with another console running along the starboard side of the shuttle with a flight seat and crash webbing as well, this station being the sensor console. The interior of the passenger bay was carpeted in Imperial gray with two half circle stations back-to-back in the middle of the compartment with the sides open to walk in and out of the circle. On either bow and aft section of the circle station was a large view screen each with two flight seats with crash webbing on either end of the circular station. This central station was where Taller had the forward viewscreen and Dak had the rear viewscreen. The rear of the shuttle was equipped with survival, rescue, and medical equipment as well as a air lock door on the starboard side of the vessel where if one equipped themselves with one of the space suits hanging on the far wall, could go retrieve a evaced pilot. There was also a small medical station and medical bed along the port side of the aft of the passenger bay just in front of the hanging space sui

 

IC: Havah Jeth
Mess Hall, Headquarters Base, Republic of Watava

As the explosions began he simply sat there listening, listening and gauging locations of the first strikes. Perfect timing in a way, he didn't have a comback to the 'bells' statement except to give a wane grin as a small pang was felt at his unique disadvantage with women. Not that he didn't like em' or know how to treat them, but merely at the fact that what human woman on such a world or in their outfit would want a white-eyed, white haired, four fingered and clawed...freak. None so far from his attempts to relieve the bordem.

Pausing yet a little longer to let the flow subside as other's raced like a nuna with it's head chopped off, he silently received his orders...both of them. The command order was to his ship for this mission, his unofficial orders received in the sign-language code was simple 'kill. them. all.'

Looking back unerringly he signed back as he stood and downed the cognac, 'All.With.Weapons.' Turning over his tumbler he smashed it down in the untouched food before him as he stepped back and around his chair, keeping that eye contact...pushing aside the memories.

Turning he headed keeping pace with the others to the hanger, which was as could be expected a location of ordered chaos. Passing up and dodging the few racing vehicles and techs he quickly reached his ship. With a quick climb up he was soon strapping in and securring his flight helmet as Pick secured the hatch, just in time it seemed to get a Hud update and crackly comm message for the mission.

'Must be jamming' he idly thought as he flicked through the last of the preflight checks, "Spook is set sir."

TAG: Watava Hanger, Grey, GM

 

GM Approved CS

---

[b]Name:[/b] Maxhen "Maniac" Kiv
[b]Gender:[/b] Male
[b]Age:[/b] 32
[b]Species:[/b] Corellian
[b]Homeworld:[/b] Selonia
[b]Affiliation:[/b] The Mercenaries (unless Corsec rescinds his expulsion of course)
[u][i]Personality[/i][/u]
[b]---Traits:[/b] Aggressive and experienced tenacious combat pilot specializing in fighter interception convoy supply interdiction and enemy anti-starfighter defense suppression, firm grasp of starfighter combat tactics, able to undertake ultra-dangerous solo missions,
[b]---Likes:[/b] Anything that makes him feel good or takes his mind off of frustration and bad memories, attractive women, Corellian Whiskey, good music (musician himself), sabaac, pugil
[b]---Dislikes:[/b] Blowhard "superior" officers, bad tactical decisions, unwanted commands, repeatedly being asked the same question no matter how intelligent it might be
[b]---Habits:[/b] Sarcastic, bombastic, somewhat of a loudmouth, used to command and will occasionally give orders, suspicious and mistrusting of others until they earn his trust, focused, driven, addictive personality, loyal, protective of squadron-mates, hard-nosed and determined
[u][i]Appearance[/i][/u]
[b]---Skin Color:[/b] Light Olive
[b]---Hair Color:[/b] Reddish Brown
[b]---Eye Color:[/b] Blue/Green
[b]---Clothing:[/b] Wears a desert tan flight suit with dark brown gloves and boots and matte gray gear. Helmet is of the full-face variety and has a stylized laming nexu skull running from the temple to a point in the back, with additional targeting gear attached to the helmet and slaved to rotating viewscreens that flip down over his eyes. When not in pilots gear, he wears casual clothes and shoes, but constant fixtures are his black pilots jacket with squadron patches and his black-framed green glareshades.
[b]---Other Attributes:[/b] 5'11'' tall, 186 and athletic build, not classically but ruggedly handsome (like Jason Statham or Thomas Jane).
[b]---Other Details:[/b] Scars on left shoulder and upper back from bad ejection
Weapons: Combat Vibro-blade, [link=http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Dissuader_KD-30_slugthrower_pistol]Dissuader KD-30 slugthrower pistol[/link]

[u][i]Starship[/i][/u]
[b]---Name:[/b] [i]Old Gundark[/i]
[b]---Class:[/b] Rebuilt and upgraded [link=http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Belbullab-22_starfighter]Belbullab-22 starfighter[/link]
[b]---Hyperdrive Class:[/b] 1.4
[b]---Weapon(s):[/b]
1x Double barreled repeating heavy blaster
1x Ion Cannon
1x concussion missile launcher (6 rounds)
[b]---Shields:[/b] Experimental Ablative shielding
[b]---Sublight Speed:[/b] 130MGLT (engines replaced and modified)
[b]---Crew:[/b] 1
[b]---Passenger(s):[/b] None
[b]---Max Cargo (kg):[/b] None (used for combat modifications)
[b]---Interior Description:[/b] Spartan at best, geared toward fighter combat, albeit with a supportive and leather-covered pilots chair. No targeting computer display, HUD displays only gun pipper and basic info, jacks in seat to feed information to helmet-mounted displays and sights.
[b]---Other Details:[/b] Medium Gray paintjob, yellow bands with black borders at halfway point on outboard nacells, skull and crossbones emblem behind cockpit.
[u][i]The Force[/i][/u]
[b]---Sensitivity:[/b] Some, but latent. Also not advised to be brought up since he is not a fan of the Jedi.
[u][i]Biography[/i][/u]
[b]---Personal History:[/b] Born to a hospital administrator for a father and a financial broker for a mother, it seems only fitting that Maxhen became a fighter pilot. Active and adventuresome at an early age, his exploits frequently got him into trouble, and it only got worse once he obtained his pilots license and got his first airspeeder.

Still he wasn't too rambunctious to disclude him from service with the Corellian Security Forces despite his parents objections, and an aptitude for fast thinking combined with natural piloting skills made him a fit for starfighter duty. He rapidly earned the nickname of "Maniac" due to his headlong engagements against seemingly overwhelming odds and his reliance on his senses rather than hi

 

Dernan Vask
Watava Military Base

Dernan muttered a quick curse as he nearly bowled over a Watavan soldier as he barrelled out of the mess hall, ?get out the way you idjits!? he yelled as he dodged a group of startled beings. He sprinted his way across to the hanger, leaving a trail of people knocked over by his mad rush to get to his fighter and into the air.
The mercenary slowed a little has he entered the hanger, not wishing to hurt any of the folk who?d be working on his ship after the battle, but he still had enough speed to carry his leap up onto the wing of the Jib Jab.
He quickly hauled his flight suit out of the small cargo compartment and slid down the other side of his fighter to get changed. Once he was done he climbed back onto the top of his fighter and shoved his shirt and pants into the cargo compartment before dropping into the open cockpit and starting his pre-flight sequence.
His HUD came to life, showing all systems were quickly coming online. The comm unit crackled just in time to catch a message, ?...sten up, this is Taller. Take a look at your HUD screens for an emergency mission briefing...?

Tag: Waiting for briefing

 

IC: Maxhen Kiv
Location: Republic of Watava, Military Base, Merc Hangar

---

[i]*When the first shots had impacted, Maxehn Kiv, known as "Maniac" to those who worked anywhere within a lightyear of him, had looked up and around to make sure that they were indeed under attack. The previous week had yielded similar explosions in the form of some technician not being careful with highly explosive ordinance, and the near panic from some of the junior pilots and crews had been il-advised to say the least.

When the second chorus of impacts rang out, Max simply sighed and started re-dressing himself in his flight gear. Not even one hour ago he had gone out for a shakedown flight with his starfighter, the [i]Old Gundark[/i]. During the last engagement he had noticed that hard breaking turns to the left gave off a high frequency vibration and had endeavored to fix it. This was the second shakedown flight and he had traced the problem to the directional vanes on the thrust-vectoring system when the alert went out.

He was nearly in his cockpit when the pilots started to rush into the bay when the other pilots started to file in. As was his way he gave them a customary greeting*[/i]

"Lets go fellow dirty mercs, we've got jerk-arses to wax!"

[i]*He knew it really wasn't fair since he had already been in the hangar bay and his ship was already warmed up, but anything that fired up pilots was good for their combat prowess, made them edgier, more aggressive, more dangerous.

It was a quick matter of warming up and engaging all primary systems, checking scanners to make sure they could switch from passive to active (noting that there was a jamming signal interfering with them somewhat), and taking special care to ensure that his weapons had safeties engaged before checking, since now was not the time to blow open bay doors.

The good captains voice had come over the comms, telling them to look at the viewscreens for information. As he waited, Max punched up the comm channel used for squadron-wide communication and relayed his status*
[/i]
"Maniac is armed and ready, on standby awaiting orders. Or you can just point me in a direction and say kill, that will suffice lead."
[hr]

[b]Tag:[/b] Capt. Taller, all Mercs in fighter bay.

 

IC: Jason Lasso
Merc Hanger, Headquarters Base, Republic of Watava


If there was ever someone who just had to say a comment at the wrong time, it was Jason Lasso. He had the most...improper timing with his mouth, which got him in more trouble then anything else.

Maxhen Kiv's voice came over the squadron channel, if a bit scrambled. But Jason grinned none-the-less. In the few months Lasso had been with The Mercs---and given his chance to become a starfighter pilot, his dream---he had become close friends with Maxhen. And Lasso could identify three reasons; first, the two pilots were like two born-to-be trouble makers and with callsigns such as Maniac and Quagmire, it was bound to be a friendship of trouble, mischief, and high speeds in their starfighters. Second, was the fact that Maxhen so related to what Jason had always wanted to be as a starfighter pilot: good and relaxed to be around. And thirdly, with Jason's natural hands it seemed like in the cockpit, Maxhen had taken the younger pilot under his wing as a tutor to become the 'second best starfighter pilot,' as the two pilots often joked together.

"Maniac is armed and ready, on standby awaiting orders. Or you can just point me in a direction and say kill, that will suffice lead."

"Quagmire is ready and armed, Lead. Awaiting the chance to out-class Maniac again today," Jason said with a smirk on his face, knowing that Maxhen would be wanting to come back with a reply, but knowing that comm time was limited with the emergency situation on hand.


Tag Rally_Fan, darthramza (above tag if you want)

 

Janice Taller
Hangar

Janice admired P.O. Lasso's enthusiasm, but, she recalled, enthusiasm could be dangerous. Especially when it led to the sort of competition the kid had with Maxhen Kiv. This was exactly the sort of thing she tried to discourage. So it came as no surprise to her that when the two of them reported ready over the radio, she let out an audible sigh.

"Maniac is armed and ready, on standby awaiting orders. Or you can just point me in a direction and say kill, that will suffice lead." That'd be Kiv living up to his callsign.

"Quagmire is ready and armed, Lead. Awaiting the chance to out-class Maniac again today." Lasso, a bit too hungry for personal glory.

She strapped on her helmet and settled into the cockpit. As if on cue, F6 was lowered into position atop the fighter.

"This is the Arc-J, Flight 1 Lead awaiting permission to launch... And take it easy, you two, war's not a competition. Let's just make sure everyone gets home alright."

TAG: Bravo, Rally

 

OOG:

GAME MASTER CORRECTION:



Hey everyone, as I was doing some research for the new roster I'm making with the new characters, I ran across a detailed diagram of a Lambda-Class Shuttle, something I didn't know there was. So, the section of the post that talks about the detailed insides of the Mother (the Lambda-Class Shuttle) is now voided and below is the official detailed insides of the ship. Please use the link below provided by Wookieepedia as a reference point for the shuttle. Thank you.


Note: Lambda-Class Shuttle detailed map


1) Pilot Station (Flight Lieutenant Patty Sands---Human, female)
2) Co-Pilot Station (Flying Officer Tom---Trade Federation pilot droid)
3) System Op Station (Chief Technician Tech---J9 Worker Drone)
4) Gunnery Station (Open---Rick Taller handles weapons in case the shuttle is attacked)
5) Auxiliary Station #1 (Open---for passengers)
6) Auxiliary Station #2 (Open---for passengers)
7) Entry Ramp
8) Lower Level Maintenance Hatch
9) Emergency Life Support Cabinets
10) Equipment Storage

11) Central Command Station (Rick Taller---Human, male/Dak---M-3PO Military Protocol Droid) ("two half circle stations back-to-back in the middle of the compartment with the sides open to walk in and out of the circle. On either bow and aft section of the circle station was a large view screen each with two flight seats with crash webbing on either end of the circular station. This central station was where Taller had the forward viewscreen and Dak had the rear viewscreen.")

12) Communications Console (Petty Officer Susan Sands---Human, female) ("One console ran along the port side of the bay, it being the communications console with a flight seat and crash webbing...") (Note: There are bench seats on either side of the console.)

13) Sensor Console (Chief Petty Officer Po Bar---Mon Calamari, male) ("...with another console running along the starboard side of the shuttle with a flight seat and crash webbing as well, this station being the sensor console.") (Note: There are bench seats on either side of the console.)

14) Refresher (Note: Across from the refresher, on the port side of the shuttle, is the coffee, water, and snack bar---"...a small coffee and water station with a snack bar...")

15) Medical Station/Storage Locker (Note: The Medical Station is located here, along with "...survival, rescue, and medical equipment...".)

16) Port side: Cargo Holds
16) Starboard side: Air lock that opens on the top starboard side of the shuttle with a ladder to the floor of the shuttle from the air lock in the ceiling. Space suits and other space equipment is located in the former starboard side cargo holds as well.

Note: Passenger/cargo hold still has Imperial gray carpeting on floor. Also note that all organic crew members wear the following: "...white flight-suit and white Rebel Alliance-style starfighter helemt with black flight harness, equipment belt, and blaster holster with his DL-44 Blaster Pistol..." (The scope is not required on the DL-44 blaster pistol, although Rick Taller had a scope on his)

 

IC: Maniac
Location: Awaiting launch orders in Merc fighter bay.

---

[i]*Max had barely gotten his message off when another voice cut in over the comm channels, slightly marred by static but not enough to mask just who the culprit was*
[/i]
[color=royalblue]"Quagmire is ready and armed, Lead. Awaiting the chance to out-class Maniac again today,"
[/color]
[i]*As jaded as Max could be, he grinned. The young Lasso was a quick study and a analouge of a younger Max, but much sharper and more mature than he was at his age. He was also supremely talented but in that danger zone between rookie caution and full-fledged experience, so Max felt it his duty to both help mold him into an exceptional pilot and keep him as safe as possible.

Which made the next transmission all the more annoying. He was going to let Jason think he had it and leave it at that, but the next voice over the comm was that of the queen flight lead and eternal buzzkill herself Janice Miller.*[/i]

[color=darkblue]"This is the Arc-J, Flight 1 Lead awaiting permission to launch... And take it easy, you two, war's not a competition. Let's just make sure everyone gets home alright."[/color]

[i]*This of course was nothing new to Max. He had worked with her before and her attitude had never changed once. It annoyed him endlessly that she got command positions over him despite her not being a career starfighter pilot. Sure she had great tactical sense, but so did Max, and then there was the point of his banter itself.

Starfighter pilots had a dangerous enough job without having to be brought down. Pilots had to KNOW they were the best so they could go forward with confidence and do the job. They had to be supremely confident to the point of cockiness because if they weren't then they wouldn't aggressively take the fight to the enemy, essentially becoming transport jocks in small ships.

What Janice didn't get time and again was that the banter, the side-bets, the "immature" behavior, the competitions, they were all designed to take the edge of fear off and motivate pilots to push themselves and their ships harder.
Besides, it wasn't as if he didn't make sure Quagmires six was sanitized as much as possible. Quagmire had even begun taking on the anti-starfighter defense suppression role as well, and he needed not only backup but the conviction and the gall to do face down and intimidate that which was hunting you and come out victorious on the other side.

So in the spirit of making sure Janice didn't take away the rocket fuel that he was trying to instill in ALL pilots, Max hit the switch on his comm one more time, procedures be damned. He would pay for it later if need be but esprit de corps was more important right now.*[/i]

"Are you saying that because you can't get the kills to win one of our bets lead? Quag and I will be generous and give you a 2 kill handicap if you want. Everyone else starts from zero as usual, and that includes you Vask.
What's the wager this time Quag? I called it last time and got hosed, so now its your turn to eat your words.
[hr]
[b]Tag:[/b] Quagmire (Bravo), Arc-J (Ram), Vask (Triple F), all other mercs who happened to be listening and wanted in...

 

Hal Crawford
Y-Wing Four Ex, approaching Johnny Boy

Hal grimaced as in the distance, a few flashes of light could be seen - likely they were the sons and daughters of this world being wiped out in war.

"Crank, how are you coming with those communications and sensors? I can only do so much with the Mark One eyeball!" Hal called out to his astromech, who whistled a reply.

I've cut through as much of the jamming as I can. You should have limited communications and the sensor should be clearer now.

"Roger that," Hal replied, and as he navigated through his screens he could see that the sensor data was coming in much clearer than before. The sensor blob that he had previously feared might be threatening the Johnny Boy had dissolved, either from combat or from the clearing of the scanners, and for now it appeared the Merc's ship was keeping a high orbit and was therefore out of the thickest fighting. If there was any time to refuel and rearm, and most importantly to introduce himself, it looked like this might be it.

Hal keyed his mic, "Johnny Boy, this is Y-Wing Constellation Yavin Six Niner Five Four X-ray, low fuel, requesting dock." Hal frowned to himself, knowing that the Johnny Boy's controllers would be well within their rights to deny him a docking clearance, especially given the combat breaking out across the Watava system. He was surprised and pleased to hear that his request was granted, and he was given permission to land in the ship's main hangar. Hal throttled back and quickly ran his pre-landing checks, placing his weapons on safe and, taking one last glance at his scanners to be sure he was clear, lowering his shields and extending his landing skids.

As he fired his thrusters and raised himself into the hangar under the nose of the Corvette, Hal could see security gathering in the hangar deck, obviously armed. Following the direction of the deck chief, Hal eased the fighter on repulsorlifts over to the place indicated and set her down gently. Placing his engines in warm standby and powering down his avionics, and making sure he wasn't carrying his weapons, Hal popped the canopy on his fighter and climbed out, making sure his hands were in view at all times. Heaving himself down to the deck, he turned and faced the security forces now approaching him, looking for their leader.

"Sorry to drop in on ya like this," Hal said, "But I was running out of fuel out there, and I don't want to blunder into a lightfight sipping fumes. The name's Hal Crawford, by the way. I know this isn't the best time, but is there someone I could talk to? I'd like to help around here - its the least I can do for lettin' me land."

TAG: Bravo or anyone

 

OOG: Will be posting character info for the NPC medical personell tomorrow if thats ok Bravo



IC: Kailin Veyo
Hanger



Kailin had just finished her food when suddenly the sound of an almighty bang, and a series of explosions, resonated through the base. Dernan leapt to his feet and began racing towards the hanger. Kailin frowned and looked at Rick.

"So it's finally started"

She thought to herself as she heard Rick giving some orders to Winterkill. Standing up, she began making her way out of the mess hall and quickly to the squadron locker room. Warning alarms and air raid sirens rang throughout the base, and base personnel were running too and from their required locations.

Reaching the locker room, she quickly pulled her navy blue flight suit, harness and associated equipment out of a locker and put them on over her scrubs. She also picked up a first aid kit pouch and fastened it to her belt at her side and finally picked up a comm-link and helmet. She left the room and ran towards the hanger in which the mercs housed their fighters.

As she ran she tried to use the comm-link in order to contact any of the local Watava hospitals or clinics for emergency medical assistance, but the communications were being disrupted and jammed. Cursing under her breath, she pocketed the comm-link and continued on towards the hanger. She would have to put her faith in the Watava volunteers and the other able base personnel for now.

The mercs star-fighters were being fuelled and prepped for take off by the hanger techs. Approaching her own ship, a Z-95 Head-hunter, she ascended the ladder up to the cockpit and sat down in the pilot seat. She then started her pre-flight checks. Being a head-hunter, her ship did not have the capacity for an astromech droid, but data packages and other combat information could be sent to her HUD screen.

As she continued her checks, she pushed any nerves of her first combat mission as best she could to the back of her mind. She put a gloved hand up to her chest, unable to actually feel the dog tags that were there under the layers of clothing, but finding some comfort in knowing that they were there.

"Here I go Darrin..."

She said softly as she inputted the last of her data from the checks and opened up her comm channel. The communication channel was blighted by static, but a communications jam would do that. Her fellow mercs began to report in.

"Maniac is armed and ready, on standby awaiting orders. Or you can just point me in a direction and say kill, that will suffice lead."

Quipped Maxhen

"Quagmire is ready and armed, Lead. Awaiting the chance to out-class Maniac again today,"

Responded Jason

"This is the Arc-J, Flight 1 Lead awaiting permission to launch... And take it easy, you two, war's not a competition. Let's just make sure everyone gets home alright."

Squadron leader Janice Toller interjected

"Merc two here, armed and ready"

She said through the system. She understood Janice's reasons for bringing down the overconfident pilots down a peg or two, but at the same time pilots used this process of wagers and competition in order to prepare mentally for missions. Not long after, Rick's voice came through, albeit accompanied by static

All Mercs, listen up, this is Taller. Take a look at you're HUD screens for an emergency mission briefing..."

As she waited for the mission briefing to appear on screen, she continued to listen in on the banter between Lasso and Kiv.



TAG: Rick, All Mercs, Any

 

IC: Winterkill
Military Base, Merc's Hangar

"What are your orders, Captain..." Winterkill managed to ask calmly just moments after the first blast rocked the military base and sent them into a state of alert.

The nagai did not have to wait long for an answer from Captain Rick Taller, but he did withhold a wry chuckle as the Captain took things in stride, as was his custom.

Captain Rick Taller was calm, cool, and collected. He calmly put his fork down and took a napkin and wiped his mouth as others in the mess hall scrambled for their battle positions, Dernan Vask among them. He took a calm drink of his water and looked at Winterkill who had inquired about orders and shared that look with Havah Jeth as he spoke to the two pilots.

"Get to you're fighters, get ready, and await further orders. And if you would, please, slow Dernan down before he trips over himself. I can't have Kailin taking care of road burn when I need her up there fighting with us."

"Yes, Sir!" Winterkill said and saluted, then bolted to the ship's hangar without looking back. Winterkill moved like the proverbial wind. He was a black streak of motion weaving through the base. He moved swiftly and silently and managed to avoid all obstacles and personnel on his way, thanks to his honed reflexes and dexterity. The nagai effortlessly jumped, flipped and somersaulted as needed, never breaking stride or slowing down until he reached the hangar. As a matter of fact, a staccato of aerial explosions only spurred him onward and faster.

Without slowing, he ran past the hangar door and flashed his ID at the check point, not to mention he was a familiar face. Being the only nagai around made identification a lot easier, and then, he slowed as he saw her. His black flower of death. The StarViper he had renamed Wraith. The black ship's wings were folded-in at the moment, but that was soon to change.

Winterkill's nimble fingers tapped on the surface of his wrist communicator and opened a channel to his ship. He then spoke in nagai.

<Awaken, Nyx. I trust you are well rested. We must prepare for immediate combat maneuvers. Initiate all systems and commence pre-flight checks. Admit me upon security scan confirmation.>

A thin beam of green light swept over the nagai's form, then winked out as quickly as it had appeared.

[Welcome back, Qu'elwynt'r. Voice and Identity confirmed. Pre-flight conditions initiated. Ship access granted.]

A silent nod of satisfaction was his silent response after reading the illuminated nagai text on his com.

Winterkill smiled slightly as he heard the cockpit become unlocked and immediately jumped on the adjacent ladder. He reached in for his black flight-suit and began to change right on the spot; not like he had much of a choice...or time. As he finished sealing his flight suit, Winterkill's black eyes spotted a nearby mechanic and simply asked, "Well....?" the meaning of his question being tacitly understood, given the immediate situation.

"She's as space worthy as she'll ever be, sir. Refueled her myself. Good hunting!" The mechanic gave a quick salute, which Winterkill returned, then quickly boarded the Wraith and followed up on the pre-flight checks. Indeed, he found the irony that most of the Mercs were better at their own ship-maintenance than he was, not so comforting. He found their independence enviable, as he had an inner distaste for dependency. Sure, he was a fierce pilot, but his mech skills left much to be desired. The fact that he had to trust the local mechanics with the fine-tuning of his ship bothered him, but he tried not to let it get in the way of things. He knew enough to hold her together, as he was no grease-monkey. Again, it was ironic that those who worked on the Wraith, did so with enthusiasm and professionalism, but that had to come to an end..and soon.

Be that as it may, Winterkill listened to the com-chatter in silence as he worked. It came in fuzzily, but it was clear enough to be understood. Both 'Maniac' and 'Quagmire

 

OOG: I think everyone has posted except for NickLitYouAFlame, although he hasn't been online in a few days either. I'm going to go get some ice cream , so when I get back, I'll get the mission post up. Keep you're eyes open folks.

In the meantime, I'm going to reply to bterrik to get him caught up so when the mission starts, he's not too far behind.



IC: Terrel Vacks/Chris Streets (Locked NPC, GM and Assistant GM controlled)
Johnny Boy, high orbit above Watava


As he fired his thrusters and raised himself into the hangar under the nose of the Corvette, Hal could see security gathering in the hangar deck, obviously armed. Following the direction of the deck chief, Hal eased the fighter on repulsorlifts over to the place indicated and set her down gently. Placing his engines in warm standby and powering down his avionics, and making sure he wasn't carrying his weapons, Hal popped the canopy on his fighter and climbed out, making sure his hands were in view at all times. Heaving himself down to the deck, he turned and faced the security forces now approaching him, looking for their leader.

"Sorry to drop in on ya like this," Hal said, "But I was running out of fuel out there, and I don't want to blunder into a lightfight sipping fumes. The name's Hal Crawford, by the way. I know this isn't the best time, but is there someone I could talk to? I'd like to help around here - its the least I can do for lettin' me land."


Chris Streets had his arms folded behind him and legs shoulder apart. The twenty-four maroon marked security class B1 Battle Droids stood behind him in a thick spread formation to either side with blasters pointed at the pilot and ship, one of their droid number having bright yellow markings instead and a backpack---identifying this droid as a commander battle droid.

"Nice ship," Streets said to the pilot, then looked to the Commander-class droid, "Secure the hanger, nothing gets past you or the techs...just in case this pilot has a surprise or two. And his droid..." Streets looked up to the pilot to see his response then back to the Commander, "...Stays here. Refuel, rearm, and have any repairs done to his ship."

The Commander droid nodded. "Roger, roger."

"You may want to come with me, pilot," Streets offered, turning towards the blast doors exiting the hanger. Four security droids filed into a box formation around the Chiss and human as they escorted the pilot to the bridge. "So the name is Hal you say...you have interesting timing during a wartime crisis like this..."

As the convoy of six figures disappeared out of the hanger, Ler, a LE Repair Droid and Lead Hanger Tech, threw his hydrospanner down on the deck floor and put his arms on his hips. "I'M the Lead Hanger Tech, not some stupid security commander droid!"

"You're going to do the repairs anyways," The Commander droid replied, turning to Ler, "What do you think I am, a lazy LE Repair Droid?"

Ler pointed a finger at the droid, the few organic techs and droids in the hanger stopping to watch the discussion between the two droids, "We should have just left you and you're buddies to rust on that planet we found you on!"


Tag bterrik

 

Hal Crawford
Johnny Boy

"You may want to come with me, pilot," Streets offered, turning towards the blast doors exiting the hanger. Four security droids filed into a box formation around the Chiss and human as they escorted the pilot to the bridge. "So the name is Hal you say...you have interesting timing during a wartime crisis like this..."

Hal gave a wry smile as he nodded with what Chris was saying. "Yeah, that ain't no joke. I can't thank ya all for the fuel and supplies enough though - I definitely owe ya one. Sorry about the timing - wasn't intentional, though - if I'd have known a war had broken out, I'd have just sent a holocomm message first. Truth is, I came here looking for you all actually - ya see, I've had a rough couple of months - but to make a long story short, I'm an old friend of Drea Renthal's, if you've heard of her. Used to be in her employ a few years back, but eventually got out of that business. Money's been short recently, and the Imperial crackdowns have cut into Drea's margins so she didn't have any work for me. She did say that a good group of folks were out at Watava and were looking for pilots with ships to help them fill a contract, so I packed it up and headed out."

As they arrived at they arrived outside the bridge, more security forces came forward to scan Hal for weapons. While they were scanning, Hal continued, "So, what happened here anyway? I only know a little of the scuttlebut on the Holonet, and all that's filtered by the Imperials anyway."

TAG: Bravo

 

Janice Toller
Arc-J, Hangar

Janice sighed. Typical Kiv, insulting her flight abilities. She had a good deal more seniority than he did, but he had nearly as much flight experience, 11 years to her 12, and he seemed to have the opinion that being in CorSec and the private sector for the bulk of that time somehow made him better than her, since she had served continuously in the Mercs. She would've liked nothing more than to make him eats his words... but she wasn't about to prove it with a kill count. You didn't win battles with bloodshed alone: you had to remember that the enemy was just as alive as you were, droids excepted.

Kiv didn't really understand that. Was that just a year of experience making all the difference, or were they just fundamentally different? And if it was the latter, was it merely the difference between where they had served? In any case, Kiv was something of a wild card, and Janice didn't care for those.

"Thanks but no thanks, Maniac, wouldn't want to embarrass you boys too badly," she replied without so much as a chuckle. "Briefings should be coming up any minute, as it is." She turned to her HUD and waited expectantly.

TAG: Rally, GM

 

Banger - BD-3000 luxury droid
Hyperspace lane to Watava - Aboard Ixiyen-class fast attack craft Ambition

Banger?s photoreceptors flickered to life. He awoke from his simulation of a human recharge cycle. However, despite having shut himself down, Banger had been wholly aware, due to his connection with his ship. Since ?borrowing? it from the Black Sun, he had fully integrated into the hardwiring. This benefited Banger by allowing total control over the craft and assuring exact response. Banger could cut down time in hyperspace and perform maneuvers that he would not be able to accomplish otherwise. Banger disconnected himself. He would have shuddered, if his body were capable of such a feat. Banger intensely disliked the union with machine that did nothing to realize his goal. He only tolerated it, because even greater, he disliked the downtime in hyperspace.

Hyperspace was only good when you had space to move, something that Banger?s craft was sorely lacking. Banger really only had space to operate the controls of the Ixiyen, and little more to accommodate his intimidating six foot five inch frame. During intense combat engagements Banger often struck the top of his head on the glass roof of the cockpit. Banger checked the course and was in the process of determining an ETA, when the ship?s sensor blared. Banger glanced at the display monitor and noted imminent arrival.

Banger flicked his photoreceptors off then on, to simulate blinking and his surprise that he hadn?t noticed entering a system. Perhaps he hadn?t fully integrated himself into Ambition, after all. Banger entered real space and was immediately aware of a planet directly before him. It was a wonder that Banger hadn?t been pulled into the planet.

Banger reengaged connection with his ship and slowed its speed, in order to begin a descent to the planet?s surface.

Oh, Watava. In the past year since his liberation, Banger had heard from several of his contacts of an ensuing conflict on this gem of a planet. He was unfamiliar with the political state on the ground, but it hardly mattered to a crazy droid with no powerful enemies. All that Banger knew, was that there was a chance that he might find work with some type of organization called The Mercs. And, to be honest, that was all that Banger needed to know. He needed money, and anybody about to enter a war, needed starfighter pilots - and droids.

Tag: Bravo, anybody near orbital sensors

 

OOG:

Disclaimer: 'Storyline Posts' is a form of 'hard contact' posts that directs the game. I got this idea (not the term 'hard contact') from how the Ace Combat games are set-up, with storyline scenes throughout the game that gives the player a storyline to follow as they play the game. Also, the AWACS Mother is taken from how Ace Combat always has a AWACS as you're good guy boss to tell you what to do.

Also, the character Nick Skysand is based off of various ideas gathered from the Star Wars Expanded Universe with the Yuuzhan Vong Invasion and the New Jedi Order series of books, a character from Star Trek Voyager (the title 'Morale Officer' is given to one of their characters---Note: This is being edited out of the next roster update), an NPC character from the Jedi Outcasts (here at the JC boards), and a character from Ace Combat 5: The Unsung War.

I just wanted to give a works cited where a works cited was needed. Thank you.


-Bravo



IC: Terrel Vacks/Chris Streets (Locked NPC, GM and Assistant GM controlled)
Johnny Boy, high orbit above Watava


Hal gave a wry smile as he nodded with what Chris was saying. "Yeah, that ain't no joke. I can't thank ya all for the fuel and supplies enough though - I definitely owe ya one. Sorry about the timing - wasn't intentional, though - if I'd have known a war had broken out, I'd have just sent a holocomm message first. Truth is, I came here looking for you all actually - ya see, I've had a rough couple of months - but to make a long story short, I'm an old friend of Drea Renthal's, if you've heard of her. Used to be in her employ a few years back, but eventually got out of that business. Money's been short recently, and the Imperial crackdowns have cut into Drea's margins so she didn't have any work for me. She did say that a good group of folks were out at Watava and were looking for pilots with ships to help them fill a contract, so I packed it up and headed out."

As they arrived at they arrived outside the bridge, more security forces came forward to scan Hal for weapons. While they were scanning, Hal continued, "So, what happened here anyway? I only know a little of the scuttlebut on the Holonet, and all that's filtered by the Imperials anyway."

"Hundreds of years of conflict and just another war between the two---that's the short and sweet story. On recent events, Country of Lim naval vessels have been giving Republic Watava civilian sea fishing boats crap for a while and even captured a boat. Finally tempers boiled over to war. Funny how fishing boats can start a war, but with these two country's long standing hatred of each other, someone looking at the other species wrong could make a war break out." As the four organic guards cleared the Hal, Streets and the four security droids lead Hal Crawford onto the bridge, the four droids taking position behind the two organics with Streets right next to Hal. Chris motioned to Terrel Vacks. "Commander Terrel 'Sarge' Vacks. He's our bridge lead this shift. Commander, this is Hal Crawford. He says he worked for Drea Renthal a few years ago and she pointed him our way for a job."

Terrel turned around from where he was standing watching the planet below and shook Hal Crawford's hand with a firm grip. "You're a tall boy now," Vacks mentioned about the man's impressive height, "And it sounds like you know you're way around in combat I would assume if you know Drea. Normally we take applications, screen people, and then do a interview for the job. But as Chris as no doubt told you, there's a war going on and we're short on pilots to fill a contract we have---I'm sure Drea filled you in on that. You have two options in front of you. You either take the job now and we discuss employment details later or we fix up you're ship as we're doing and we send you on you're way. What wi