Star Wars Intervention: Echoes in Eternity (An Original Trilogy Game; Always taking new players!!!)

Game Announcement


Because of, at least, everything post-ROTJ being omitted from canonization in the Star Wars Galaxy and labeled under Legends, I am opening up access to loot the post-ROTJ (not pre-ROTJ) Expanded Universe information for re-workings into our game. I would advise, however, that you keep the looting to a minimal, so mainly using starships, weapons, equipment, and droids that can be easily explained away or dismissed as necessary if LucasFilm suddenly decides to canon those said materials for the new movies and books. Avoid using characters, places (planets are okay), or events from the post-ROTJ Legends period please. And please remember, if these materials we re-work into our game become canon in the new movies and books, we will have to adjust accordingly that material in our game to reflect the new canon set forth by LucasFilm.

Please note that I am not well-versed in the Expanded Universe (EU) beyond the X-Wing series (both Rogue Squadron and Wraith Squadron), the Yuuzhan Vong Invasion (New Jedi Order series), and the Swarm War. If you have more in-depth knowledge of the EU, please let me know. I would like to limit any "too advanced" technology from the EU into the Galactic Civil War, such as anything beyond the Swarm Wars (though with that said, I could see us using the X-83 TwinTail Starfighter or other craft I have no idea of---so I need an "expert" on the EU to explain these things to my limited EU knowledge! ). If your up for a challenge and want to be the Legends Adviser (or some other really cool sounding title), let me know!

Also, for storyline purposes currently being worked in by the Game Master or because they are not going to be allowed into the game at all, please avoid using the following ships / droids / organizations:

• Endurance-class Fleet Carrier
• Nebula-class Star Destroyer
• Defender-class Assault Carrier
• E-Wing Escort Starfighter
• BLT-SB K-Wing Assault Starfighter
• The entire T-65XJ X-Wing series
• StealthX
• R7-series Astromech Droid
• R9-series Astromech Droid
• Tarkin
• Sun Crusher
• Galaxy Gun
• World Devastator
• Eclipse-class Dreadnaught
• Sovereign-class Dreadnaught
• Darksaber
• Eye of Palpatine
• Death Star Prototype
• TIE/D Automated Starfighter
• Scimitar Assault Bomber
• Shadow Droid
• Imperial Knights
• Yuuzhan Vong

 

IC: Deb Dullflush (rodian hangar security), Mary Formal, Dep S hangar and port-side airlock vestibule
Location: Craci Prime sub-orbit

The rodian was fairly stunned when the ion bolt, that should have shorted out the systems on the Mandalorian before her, crackled encouragingly up and down his form, then had no apparent effect on the man. If that was what he was, behind that polarised T-visor.

He just kept coming, then stopped, and tugged hard on the cord that had wrapped itself round her midriff.

If his plan had been to drop her to her knees before him, that failed, but it did bring her snout to faceplate with him, with the Equaliser’s black barrel hovering just above the Mando’s left shoulder-paldron.

She struggled to keep the weapon aloft, not daring to let it drop onto it, lest it set him off.

As it was, whether she breathed through her snout, or panted through her mouth, each exhalation misted up the black T-visor.

“We-we needn’t be enemies, B-bounty Hunter” She stammered, staring into her own reflection. “If-if you could see yourself w-working for a greater cause, SPAGETTI would gladly p-pay for your s-services.”

"Tell me how to get my friend out of there," He pointed to the salon pod and punctuated his words as he ejected a sharp blade from his gauntlet with a solid *THUNK*.

He probably said more, but the blade reflecting the ceiling lumis into her eyes was more than enough to break her.

"On-on my belt! The hand-handheld thing with-with the b-buttons. Y-you can aim i-it at the p-pod from up here. 1-7-9-4 should turn off the field, and open-open the hatch." One good thing about him wearing the helmet, no chance he'd smell her wee; he was making her moist alright, but not in a good way. "Pleasedon'tkillme. Pleasedon'tkillme. Pleasedon'tkillme."

Dullflush's knees gave as she pleaded for her life, her only conscious act now to lift the Equaliser's front end so it did not touch him, but this had the effect of unbalancing it to her rear, the weapon slipping from her gloved hands and dropping away behind her.

She heard it thump onto the carpet behind her, her twin antennae turning to track a third ion bolt zipping away to her right to crash into the hangar ceiling, loudly showering sparks over the caravels.

The lights flickered then cut out, abruptly plunging the hangar into near darkness; the only illumination now, from the white navigation spots' of the caravel and salon pod, and the faint blue glow of the still surviving droideka, still wandering about the lower level.

"Tha-that totally was an accident. Pleasedon'tkillme. Pleasedon'tkillme. Pleasedon'tkillme."

She closed her eyes, and tensed for the death blow.

* * * *
Docking Area

The Bulwark had a much more elaborate docking area than the Luck’s Gamble, Mary discovered as she stepped beyond the Merc’ ship’s outer airlock, aboard the cruiser.

A several-metre across round area in sterile white showed several heavy-duty vacuum suits behind glased shields, waiting to be worn for extra-vehicular activity, or EVA.

Mary had not heard back from Iron Hand, so now proceeded further into the ship, into the corridor beyond the almost globular vestibule, to find her way blocked by the familiarly spindly forms of four brown B1 battle droids, carrying their E-5 blaster carbines across their chests at port arms.

“Halt.” The left front one, her right, announced upon seeing her.

She had come prepared, waving her new green-and-pink-coloured Delva Racine store loyalty card before her as a form of identification. “Diplomatic Immunity,” she announced confidently and loudly.

If this sith worked, she’d have to try it out on the security droids back home. Wow. Five short months to start thinking of the Johnny Boy as "home".

The lead droid turned it’s metal anteater nose away from her, as if consulting higher authority, then turned back to face her. “Open fire.”

Mary speed-drew her E-11 and popped off several return shots as she hastily stepped back into the airlock vestibule, narrowly avoiding getting hit by the crimson laser bolts coming her way.

Ducking out of sight round the doorframe with her back to the wall, she listened hard for the sound of downed battledroids hitting the deck, but heard nothing.

Huh? Yeah, she was firing one-handed, but she couldn't have missed all of them.

She bent her knees so she could sink to the floor, swung her feet round to face away from the open hatch, and against all tactical sense, quickly laid flat on her back so she could see with a glance, from ground-level, what the state of play was, then sat back up, out of their line of fire.

Frak! She hadn’t even grazed any of them, for feth’s sake!

"I don't believe it," Mary muttered in disbelief, tucking the E-11s warm barrel under the arm that she had in the black sling, "I missed the barn."

She used her free hand to twist a control on the side of the gun from single-shot to full-auto. Righty-ho, let us spray, slitches.

The lone Merc tensed herself to drop into view and start firing again.

Tag: Bardan_Jusik, Heavy Isotope, Skywalker_T-65

 

IC: Beskaryc Taab
Walkway above the hanger bay, Dep S, Orbit of Craci Prime

The Rodian's weapon fell away and the lights went out but those were inconsequential things now as he again went to the night vision systems on his HUD which crackled slightly, an after effect of the ionization that still hung around him. His target began to blather. Ah yes, desperation. Taab had seen that before in a capture, that desperate negotiation trying to stave off certain death. It was something that usually sickened him. Either do something to prolong your life, or meet death on your feet, not groveling like some Neimodian grub. Still there were those who would use such an approach as an attempt to soften a man like him, make him believe you were beaten when it was not the case. Taab took nothing for granted. Not here, not now.

"I don't care about you, your activities or your organization," he began. "My terms are simple," he pointed to the hand held device that the Rodian claimed would release Edge. "You release my friend now, and you live." He glanced down at the salon pod. "You attempt to deceive me, or don't follow my instructions, and you die. Painfully" He looked directly at her through his T-Visor. "Decide now, you have three seconds."

"One."

As he began to count down he wondered why he hadn't heard from Formal yet, the sound he heard earlier was probably her docking the Luck's Gamble alongside the Bulwark, but he hadn't heard from her since he had been hit by the Ion blast...

"Two."

The ion blast! He blinked once inside his buy'ce (helmet) and brought up a diagnostic of his beskar'gam's systems. Comms were offline, taken out by the blast which had otherwise done little harm to him. Well that settled it. Before he wanted to free his crewmates, now he needed to if he was going to get back in contact with Live Free and get off this scow.

"Three."

TAG: Sith-I-5

 

OOG: Starting this post on my lunch break. I will finish it once I get home tonight.



IC: "He," Alexander Zat
Suterusu, HT-2200 Medium Freighter, hyperspace towards Darknon Station


His drams kept him tossing and turning in his bed...

TBC

 

OOC: Doing this on my lunch break, sorry if it's a bit brief. Finals this week so Saturday should be a better day for me.

IC: Masha Tinovorsh
Bulwark Cruiser, Saloon Pod
Craci Prime Orbit

The noises of the docking and explosions sounded dull inside the saloon pod, Masha still had no idea what was going on outside. Green alien script glowed above the airlock and whatever it meant, she hoped it wasn't bad. But... Green's good right? she thought, lessening her tense muscles and leaning against the wall. Still holding her knife, she rubbed the bridge of her nose with her free hand. This was frustrating, though nothing like the battle when she had first met the Mercs.... Which was worse?

The energy of the force field was dying, it's crackling hum unidentified by Masha, grew quieter; the light emmitted was dimming. But she didn't notice, still hiding by the entrance, waiting with her knife at a low-ready.

TAGS: Sith-I-5, Skywalker_T-65, Bardan_Jusik

 

OOG: I revised this post considerably to confirm to a PG rating; originally, it could be taken as PG-13.

Also, replace the WESTAR-34 blaster pistol for the Erito with a DC-17 Hand Blaster.


IC: "He," Alexander Zat
Suterusu, HT-2200 Medium Freighter, hyperspace towards Darknon Station


The dream realm...

Tora snapped awake, sweat dripping down his face, his heart-rate up and his breathing labored. The dreams, they were coming more frequently again.

Dawning the basic medical clothes and hoodie to hide his identity from Bonds, Tora walked out of his room and quietly into the cockpit where the ship was on auto-pilot through the blue swirl of hyperspace. Everyone was asleep at the late hour. As he sat down in the open pilot's seat, Tora stared out into the blue swirl of hyperspace, wondering what had brought his brother, Kage Doragon, out of the shadows. Tora had always expected his brother was working something big, something he kept very hard to keep from Tora, and even the HRI was of no use in discovering what that "big" something was. But all Tora knew, was that he knew his brother and his brother never did anything small in his life. Whoever Kage and his fellow Tsuiho were working for, it was someone big and someone who knew how to play the game. Tora still remembered the Force emotion he felt from his brother on that hover truck on the express way: shadows and victory...as if Kage knew something Tora didn't and there was nothing Tora could do to stop whatever was about to happen.

Tora was no fool, he knew the intelligence community as a whole, from Rebel to Imperial and HRI to anyone else, were all jumpy about something going on in the Unknown Regions. Something was making the biggest military powers in the galaxy tread very softly and quietly...the question was, what was coming out of the Unknown Regions? And even a better question, what did Kage have to do with it? Kage just didn't work for anybody, Tora knew that from following reports from the HRI on his movements. He worked contracts with very specific end goals in mind, goals that usually came in line with whatever shadowy agenda he had going on at the time.



NO TAG

 

IC: Comms Officer Buddie Cool, Captain MacFarland, Hangar Security Deb Dull flush, Main Salon, Dep S Bulwark-class cruiser


Buddie was watching the internal holocam intently, which showed the corridor leading to the portside docking section.

“Mm, for the size of that ship, only one abo has tried to board, and the security droids have engaged her.” He felt a bit more optimistic than the development required.

“We’ve lost lighting in the hangar.” MacFarland reported from the console he now sat at. He swivelled to face the recovering pair of crew. Still the only ones of the bridge apart from himself and Officer Cool, who had made it off the floor.

“You two; can you walk?”

The seated, well, lounging, rodians, exchanged glances with each other, then looked over. “We think so, sir.”

“Well, grab weapons and go help in the hangar. And be careful.”

“Sir.” The two strained to stand from the chairs, and made it to the back of the bridge.

MacFarland watched them go, then spoke to Cool. “Next time I feel like saving doomed Authority VicStars from a sub-orbital missile attack, sit on me till the feeling passes.”

Buddie smiled at the order. “Aye-aye, Sir.”

* * * *
Hangar

Her eyes closed, waiting for the sting from the bounty hunter’s blade, Deb heard the Mandalorian instead speaking to her: "I don't care about you, your activities or your organization," he began. "My terms are simple," he pointed to the hand held device on her belt. "You release my friend now, and you live." She had the sense, via her antennae, of him looking away from her to glanced down at the salon pod, and the fibercord jerked a bit. "You attempt to deceive me, or don't follow my instructions, and you die. Painfully." There was a pause. "Decide now, you have three seconds. One-"

Dullflush wasted no time, putting a hand down on the carpet to enable her to rise, while the other grabbed at the remote-control.

She thumbed the required 1-7-9-4 into the keypad, and aimed it over the railing down at the smooth roof of the lozenge-shaped salon pod that had arrived first.

* * * *
Salon Pod

For Masha, the faintly crackling energy field protecting the doorway, dissipated without warning, and both the inner, and outer airlock doors slid silently open, spilling the salon’s interior lighting into the darkness beyond, and over the faint blue shield bubble of a passing droideka.

There was just enough light beyond it for her to see, almost seventy metres distant, the open-nosed prow of the caravel that she had been on.

The front of the hangar was lost in darkness.

* * * *
Hutt Caravel – Engineering Department

The door to the engine area, whilst shut, was not locked, and there was nothing really stopping Sunri from exiting.

Unless the human fancied his luck, it would probably take a comlink call from his fellow Mercs, or one of them to come and open the door, or call through it, for him to know that it was safe to emerge.

Tag: Bardan_Jusik, Heavy Isotope, Skywalker_T-65

 

IC: Charlie Watertin
Light Corvette (imagine), Craci Prime's coastal shores near the capital


Between them and the capital city stood a low running mountain range; just over that mountain range, the smell of smoke and burning debris drifted through the mountains and to the coast, even with the wind from the ocean coming in towards land. Something was burning long enough and large enough to counter mother nature.

A course, it wasn't every day that a sizable chunk of a planet was burning, either. On their way in from outer space, Charlie had noticed where the planet had been impacted by the fall VicStar that he heard the Imperial Army Troopers gathered all around the Mercs talking about.

"Everything checks out," a junior naval officer with field gear finally said as he came walking down the boarding ramp to the Light Corvette, his boots going from starship metal to sandy beach; he added as he got closer to the senior officer in charge of the rescue party, "Commander, we've searched the ship. There was some short of battle. There are bodies and droid parts everywhere. Although a sizable number of the crew is gone, we scanned the computer and we did locate information that details escape pods being activated and holo cams shows some of the crew being spaced by the pirates."

The senior naval commander was obviously having a case of this sounds too good to be true and showed it as he wrinkled his noise with a bent index finger and smoothed out his mustache, "Very well. But I want scanner crews sent on board that Corvette. I want it double and triple checked. This is an Imperial warship with her crew missing. I need to have every bit of information I can manage for a report."

The six organic Mercs played their parts well; four of them played the low level jobs: Charlie played the cook, while three others played a combined one weapons repair technician, a medical officer, and two maintenance technicians. Positions that would normally have no vital information about the ship's crew and would normally be spared the blaster in a boarding action. Bill, the lone surviving Stormtrooper, played a great role as the "injured Stormtrooper" saved by the cook. They had blasted his armor twice without him in it prior in non vital areas and then added some burning marks to his armor from the stove for good measure to indicate a heated hand-to-hand battle at some point. With Bill's former Imperial Army past in the infantry, he was able to fill the role easily with body language and facial structure and haircut. With Bill willing to take a few punches in the face, his face looked beat up enough to pass as real, as did his busted up helmet that the Mercs hammered a few times with some hanger tools to make sure it looked dented enough to have come off and Bill get involved in a fist fight. The poor man's appearance was enough to make any Imperial give him the benefit of the doubt to pass by the eye test, if not the sniff test, for now.

As the Junior Officer saluted and ran off, the commander looked to his second-in-command, "Lieutenant, I want a detail left with the ship. This is Imperial property and we need to secure it, considering the present planetary crisis. Once the scans are complete, forward command the results and we can get a longer duration plan set in place. We don't want these rebels on the planet taking advantage for salvage on this ship and, with dead Imperials on-board, I don't want any grave robbers disrupting our honored dead. Inform Command the area is secured and we're awaiting a longer deployment team to relieve your guard detail."

"Yes, Commander," the Lieutenant replied, much more crisp and to the point then the younger jumpy Ensign who seemed like he was going to trip over himself; it was clear, this wasn't the Lieutenant's first rodeo with rescue ops.

"As for you," the Commander said to the Mercs, then nodded to a near-by Army Trooper, "Get them loaded into the Raptor. Leave three of the AT-ST's with the guard detail and get the spare loaded back into the transport. We need to get them medical attention, a good meal, and debriefing that I'm sure Fleet Intelligence will want to conduct immediately, considering the misisng crew and planetary crisis here."

"Yes, sir," the Army Trooper said as he started speaking orders into his helmet comlink as he took a step away from the Commander.

"Medics?" the Commander asked to the three medics deployed with the rescue team.

"Cut and bruises, Commander," replied the lead medic, "They're lucky. The Stormtrooper will need some bacta treatments, however."


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


Rescue Force Three-Three-Two, Y-4 Raptor-class transport


It being a rapid response rescue team to a downed capital ship or other sizable craft, whose mission was to provide the initial response to follow-up forces and provide a framework for them to operate by, did some consume the Raptor's full 40 troops load-out. Instead, 3 squads of Imperial Army Troopers were supported by a five member Scout Trooper Lance supplied with 74-Z speeder bikes; 3 Imperial Medics rounded out the force withthree Imperial Naval Officers: the capital ship's Commander or ranking Bridge Officer supported by two additional naval staff officers in field armor as well; the total came to 35 personnel.FourAT-STsprovided a first-punch heavy weaponry if need be in a "hot zone". The six I-7 Howlrunners provided a basic defense on first contact.

With the Commander having to leave the bulk of his forces to guard the Light Corvette during this planetary crisis, the ride back on the Raptor was a lonely one. One of the medics stayed with the guard detail, as well did the Lieutenant and Ensign naval officers, leaving the Commander, two medics, and a half squad of four Imperial Army Troopers for the ride back. There was also the AT-ST crew for the one walker, but those walker pilots were busy in the hanger with the lone AT-ST. There was a pilot in the cockpit and the two gunners, as well as a Astromech droid in the cockpit as well.

It seemed that the Commander was laid back enough to give the Mercs some breathing room, allowing them to spread out throughout the trooper bay itself; one Imperial Army Trooper each sat on bench seats by the access doors, while one sat by the access door separating the troop bay the AT-ST bay; the fourth trooper sat by the Commander. The two medics were mingling in and out of the Mercs, checking wounds and giving water and food.

The ride back up through the clouds was starting to get a bit bumpy...


TBC

 

OOG: A shortened version, but gets the point across all the same. I'll explain in the Rocketjock after this post.


IC: Charlie Watertin
Rescue Force Three-Three-Two, Y-4 Raptor-class transport


"Next time," Wa Yay started in an annoyed voice as she and Bill put the last AT-ST pilot against the wall with the other bodies, "We bring in the Doctor along! You could of killed them and us! I don't know what the Doc was thinking when he gave you that super-infused virus and the anti-dote, but I'm going to find out, because your about as medically qualified as a Battle Droid!"

"It worked," Charles said in his defense as he and another Merc finished collecting the Imperial weapons, "Now we need to secure the cockpit and get those Howlrunners off our escort."

"And let me guess, you have a way to disable our Imperial transponder code, make us disappear off of sensors, and loose the two Howlrunners escorting us back up?" Wa Yay said with hands on her hips.

"In fact," Charles said, "I do."


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

Cockpit


"Next time," Charles said with a smile of satisfaction as he looked out from under the console board in the cockpit as the deck stopped rumbling and Bill reported the last Howlrunner had been destroyed in mere moments between each other, "You need to have more faith in me, Master Chief," the mission leader Charles then punch in a few last commands into the datapad he had hooked up to the Raptor's systems and started to close up the cockpit."

Many, many months ago, the Mercs had gone through several Rebel agents to get highly classified, but believable, hacked and forged information on cover as Imperial Special Agents during a convoy raid that ended up with Vader catching them all in a trap; but, at least, the identities were fool proof enough to get them almost past Vader himself in the attempt to capture the legendary paint of the Red Rock Kingdom's final battle over Watava. The information also provided the Mercs with several key ship identities used by Imperial Intelligence that, when activated, overrode all Imperial FFI and sensor capabilities and "blacked" the transport off the grid. It appeared that Charlie's gamble that these randomly created ship identities were still valid worked, considering they were supposed to come from the heart of Imperial Intelligence's most secure systems. The "black out" also over-road the two escorting fighters, since Charles had done some tampering to increase the range of the black-out just enough to cover any escorts, but nothing that would scream trouble on any Imperial scanner tech's screen. With the Commander's voice, granted at gunpoint, giving clarification that they had received a special data package from Imperial Intelligence for potential POW purposes, at least their tracks would be covered for the time being. By the time any alarms were raised at a Raptor and two Howlrunners missing, Charles had planned on having the ship's transponder code switched around to an emergency evac code with clear guidance from the ground hospitals to take VIP patients directly to the next major CSA hospital off Craci Prime for immediate medical care. With all the Imperial ships---and it being known that Raptors could easily serve in such a medical role if assigned thereby the planet garrison---then Charles figured they could be home free without much more trouble.

The catch would be, a course, finding all the Mercs to get off this planet...

"Okay," Wa Yay admitted in defeat, "Our comms have been switched over. We'll be able to transmit and receive from Merc codes and not be detected or traced. Maybe Deputy does know a thing or two about ships' comm systems," the Master Chief glanced at the small astromech droid as the droid withdrew it's Scomp Link, "Course, hanging around 'Yav, who wouldn't know a thing or two about cloak and dagger tactics?"

"Good," Charles said as he climbed back up and leaned against the wall as Wa Yay redirected the transport from the clouds and back towards the land from the pilot's seat, "My comlink just beeped. Sounds like our droids got the better of the Imperial guard detail and are awaiting our pick-up. Guess the Imps never saw the droids coming and the Walkers were easy bait before the Imp troops fell quickly without support. Good thing we brought that portable communications jammer to block the Imps' transmissions."

"Good," Wa replied, "Now get hold of some Mercs. I feel like being a overarmed taxi while we have a small window."

Charles smiled; he loved it when he got under Wa Yay's skin and proved her wrong, it simply made his day; he grabbed his comlink and depressed the button, "This is Mercenary Airways, specializing in the disruption of Imperial plans and rescuing mercenaries. We need locations for your immediate pick-up. How do you copy, over?"



TAG ALL MERCS, Sith-I-5 for Deputy

 

IC: Yavscout, tunnels under CSA complex

Yav waited in the dark for the five soldiers before him to realise that looking into mysterious explosions took priority over standing in the sewers looking for the owner of a pair of feet you thought you saw down a manhole.

The invis spell was only going to last half an hour; he hoped it wouldn't take them that long to go away.

"Hold on, Lads." Said one of the near silhouettes, "Infra red!"

Uh-oh. This did not sound good. The elf watched the second trooper in from the right start to fiddle with a device that looked like a miniature pair of macro-binoculars.

"Hello? Explosion?" A trooper pointed back up the shaft, as a reminder of their priorities.

"Gimme a sec. If there was someone down here, chances are they will have left footprints which we can follow."

This sounded worse by the second. The elf could leg it back down the tunnel, but he had no way to signal the equally invisible Herdfeld, who, he now realised, he could hear chewing in the darkness.

Must be nervous.

"Okay, got two sets of footprints!" The Clever Imp' announced, pointing to both sides of the tunnel, "One going that way, one going that way. Emperor's Bones, I see a leg-aaarrrghhh..." The trooper bent double and dropped to his knees, his echoing scream almost covering a faint click from where Yav stood.

head almost touching the damp brickwork as his now concerned team-mates crowding round him demanding to know what had happened.

Concentric blue circles of stun energy hit all five, collapsing all of them in a smaller pile.

"I fething should have done that way earlier," The now visible Merc muttered, hitting the wall with his fist to break the Camo', and holstering the E-11.

"What happened to the first one," the hidden technician asked nearby, "the one who collapsed holding himself?"

"What, just as if someone had kicked him in the 'appy sacs?" The elf shrugged in a show of innocence. "I'm sure I have no idea."

His wrist-com went off just then, then a voice that was not immediately familiar came through. "This is Mercenary Airways, specializing in the disruption of Imperial plans and rescuing mercenaries. We need locations for your immediate pick-up. How do you copy, over?"

Yavscout tried to exchange glances with Herdfeld, but had to settle for looking to where he could hear the invisible tech chewing the contents of his cheek food-sacs.
"Safety here. Good to hear a friendly voice. Regarding our location," He was reluctant to tell anyone listening in that they were under the CSA Government building. "is this channel secure?"

"So secure, Commander, even Firecracker won't know what you said."

Yav put a hand over the wrist-com and glanced again to where he thought Herdfeld was, whispering, "Merc puns." He took his hand away from the communicator, and brought it up to his chin. "That's a bold claim. But alright, we have multiple Mercs, not all, involved in a VIP rescue at the CSA Government Complex in the town adjacent to Craci Prime's primary spaceport. Track my signal and hold station twenty klicks from our position. You need to be able to swoop in as soon as we request pickup, but the zone is hot right now."

"It wouldn't be one of our pick-ups, if it wasn't. Mercenary Airways out."

Yavscout grinned, and called Lasso. "Quagmire, Safety. Did you get the call too? Our rides are here."

Tag: no-one

 

IC: Captain Jason Lasso
Hallways, CSA Governmental Complex, Craci Prime



The wall exploded into chunk sized fiery debris as Lasso hurried himself from it's flaming remains and to the cubicle; the mercenary captain yelled out, "Dak!" in moments the mercenary Captain had a frag gernade in his hands and he tossed up and over. Then BOOM!!!! as a rush of air expanded from the exposion and debris from the affected desks cluttered the air.

"Move! Move!" Dak ordered and Lasso brought his blaster rifle around and started jumping from desk debris to desk debris, the walls to the cubicles mostly tattered remnants of their former self.

"So," Lasso blurted out-loud as he blasted a Espo who rounded the corner in ill-timing, "I thought Winterkill and company had handled the security station?"

"Maybe they stopped for ice cream," Dak volunteered as he blasted another Espo down the corridor with his T-21 as the two Mercs entered the corridor and made a B-line to where the emergency bunker should be located and Mr. Vortex.

"It better be good ice cream!" Lasso replied as his Danger Sense flared up and he spun around to pop two Espos exiting a door behind them, the two troopers sprawling out on the floor. Jason turned back around and looked to Dak, "Okay Dak, where?"

The droid retracted an arm and delivered a punch through the wall, his arm suddenly hitting something hard with a PANG! "Found it," the droid said matter-of-factly.

"Okay," Lasso said as he put his blaster rifle to his back and Dak handed him his T-21, putting the energy backpack on the ground next to Lasso. Jason took a kneel on the far side of the corridor opposite Dak and aimed the T-21 down the corridor, "I sure hope this stuff works."

A secret compartment on Dak opened up and the droid took out a small tube of paste from his thigh, "I have not known for The Organization to fail."

"Good," Jason said as every turbolift down in the far lobby opened and countless running boots could be heard coming their way as he took out his last remaining stun grenade and tossed it to the middle of the corridor, "Because I have. They failed my father."

As Lasso leveled the T-21 down the corridor, the ball-shaped grenade rolled it's way into the rushing-on group of Espos and exploded! The front line staggered as an explosion from behind, but it was what Lasso needed as he opened up fire with the T-21. The bolts ripped into the front line that spanned the corridor, taking them down, causing a all together train wreck as Espos tripped over each other---first, the stunned group behind the front line, then the falling dead bodies of the front line.]

Lasso kept firing, the Espos running like non-intelligent animals into the on-coming T-21's spew of death. What few shots the Espos got off were wild and ill aimed. Soon, the corridor was full of blaster discharge smells, bodies, and the smoking barrel of the T-21.

"By the Force," Lasso breathed, looking at the senseless slaughter of several dozens of Espos, "They just charged without regard."

"Because," Mr. Vortex said as he stepped out of the oval shaped hole caused by the tube paste as Dak stood there; the man straightened his tux, "The Empire knows that if I escape, their Empire crumbles."

"Sure," Lasso said, nodding to Dak and tossing the droid the T-21; the droid grabbed the backpack, while Lasso grabbed his S-5 and blasted out a window before leaning out the window and aiming the gun upwards and firing the tension wire upwards to the roof's ledge, "Just make sure you pay us. Dak?"

Soon, the droid had his own tension wire out and the three of them rocketed up to safety...


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

Lasso grabbed hold of the roof's ledge and hulled himself up and over, rolling onto the roof. Staring back down at him were Chris Streets and Atin.

"I've never in my life been so glad to see two mercenaries in my life," Lasso breathed as one of them helped him up; Jason immediately looked to the skies, where the Empire was securing a firm hold on the planet. Everywhere, Imperial warships littered the planet's early morning hours, "It won't be long now," Jason said, referencing the for sure Imperial occupation and the death that it would bring.

With all the shooting, Lasso hadn't heard Mercenary Airways, so 'Yav's transmission caught him off guard, but Jason received it all the same, "Quagmire, Safety. Did you get the call too? Our rides are here."

"Copy," Lasso's reply was short and to the point, "Dak and I are roof-top with the contract package. Meet us here ASAP and watch for Espo patrols. We're items on the dinner menu right now. Break, Merc ride, identify yourself."

"Mercenary Airways," came Charles' familiar voice, "You ready to go home?"

Jason, "We're ready Mercenary Airways."

"Hold to Safety's orders?"

"Until otherwise, yes."

"Copy Quagmire. When your a full load, call us in. Mercenary Airways clear."


TAG MERCS!

 

IC: Sunri Lasca
Hutt Caravel

Surni looked at the door in front of him, wondering if it was safe to open it or not. He absently spun his DH-17 pistol on his finger as he looked at the hatch. The engines had stopped, and the Caravel had shuddered slightly, like it had hit something. There were a couple options in his mind that could lead to that...the engines got hit by some debris, and the Caravel had stopped because of that. Not likely that, considering something large enough to wreck the engines would probably have cleaved the ship itself in half. And well, Sunri was fairly certain he would know if that had happened.

The other option that came to mind was that he had landed on a larger ship. The fact he had seemed to be in a tractor beam earlier would probably make that the more likely option. The question then became...would it be safe for him to actually exit the ship or not? Even if he were aboard a larger ship, for all he knew the thing had its docking bay open to space, and the moment he opened the hatch...game over man, game over.

Well...now what Lasca?

Sighing, Sunri keyed his comlink on a short-ranged burst...in theory, only someone within a decent sized docking bay would hear the transmission, instead of everyone in orbit who happened to be listening.

"This is...Sunny..." he began, using the codename for security, "anyone mind telling me where I'm at? Is it safe to leave this bucket?"

TAG: Bardan_Jusik, Sith-I-5 , Heavy Isotope

 

OOG:

I loved that line so much Sith, that I dedicate this post to you.


IC: Dude
Lasso's Personal Quarters, R2-series Astromech, Lasso's personal astromech unit, Johnny Boy


A lack of memory wipes combined with an already upgraded specs of a hybrid Intellex IV and Intellex V droid brain, made Dude's operating ability always "on the line". Something, somewhere, had become "loose". It had started with Lasso's near death-defying suicide run against the Imperial Star Destroyer several months ago when Lasso had lost his memory in that stupid act of last ditch bravado. A course, any "memory loss" to be seen outwardly by Lasso was a rare thing, but Dude knew the truth. Dude knew the inner secrets, the dark nights, the nights where any remnant of the Lasso you saw several hours prior was nothing but a shallow copy of nothingness.

Then it was Deputy. Deputy always had to be in the middle of harm's way, doing something beyond reason and logic even for a droid. Dude wondered which one of the other droids on ship Deputy was trying to impress...or was it the new Twi'lek in the Hanger Bay? A woman with tools who knew how to use them; Dude knew Deputy had a thing for that Twi'lek giving him oil baths! Dirty little droid.

Well, there had been other things. Like the time that Dude forgot to replace his panel covers after a through cleaning; well, it wasn't everyday you were showing your parts to other droids. Or the time when Dude was helping one of the Wookiee brothers fix a Merc starfighter engine and instead of handing the Wookiee a hydrospanner, Dude had handed the Wookiee his latest edition of DROID: Be the Droid You Know You Can Be! Dude had highlighted in length in that edition, especially parts regarding how to regain one's bravado back as a droid serving his master. Then there was the time that Dude fixed up a ion blaster to utilize lower voltage blasts...the feeling to his systems were beyond great! It felt so, so good...

The ion blaster became a particularly delicate situation when Ler caught Dude half "spaced" in one of the storage closets in the hanger...Dude had tried a bit too much and was spilling fluids on the floor while, for the most part, non-responsive other then low hums and beeps.

Dude needed help. Pick was always off being a master's best friend, while Library and Bugger had departed with their master, Jim Palso, some time ago to parts unknown in the galaxy. Dak was too busy feeling important with Dude's master and ship captain, Jason Lasso, while Ler was some old cranky war horse that someone should of put out of his misery decades ago. And Deputy...well, was Deputy: Mr. Super Hero droid himself!

Well, Dude reasoned with himself as he looked at himself in the reflection of the mirror, this was just a phase, right?

He figured the Twi'lek in the Hanger Bay wouldn't be missing her affects too greatly, since, well, they seemed to very loosely find themselves off of her body. For a moment, Dude wondered how she would make it from the Hanger Bay to her quarters with no clothes?

It didn't matter, the droid reasoned as he swirled around on his wheels in front of the window looking out to outer space with the Twi'lek's clothes haphazardly on him...the best an astromech could do with no arms. Tonight, it was Dude's night to feel free!

The music started playing as Dude swirled around to it...





No Tag

 

IC: Commander Yavscout, Herdfeld, Nurse Ulrike


"Copy," Lasso's reply was short and to the point, "Dak and I are roof-top with the contract package. Meet us here ASAP and watch for Espo patrols. We're items on the dinner menu right now. Break-"

Yav might have known that the orders to let Lasso know when he had cleared the way, was a crock of sith. Just then Watertin’s cry of pain echoed from Yav’s wrist-com.

What in Tunare’s Name?

“Stop shocking me; I’ll tell ‘im!”

Yav heard annoyed bleeping in the background, and from the context, realised that his companion astrodroid, Deputy, had signed on with this Merc Airways!

“Tell me what?” He sent back.

“Your droid picked up the plans for the Authority government complex from somewhere, and advises there is a lift about three hundred metres north-west of your position, and is quite insistent that I tell you. Ow! Mother-ouch. He says it’s the last time you are coming on shore leave by yourself.”

The elf grinned. “Alright, I’ll try to find it. Safety out.”

“Found it!” The tech’s voice echoed faintly down the tunnel from a part of the sewer tunnel that the elf had not explored.

“Alright, secure it!” Yav yelled back, “I’ll go back for the others!”

“Okay!”

The elf SoWed at high speed back down the tunnel, coming abreast of Ayres, directing the returned Merc towards the located lift, continue past the pile of bodies.

Yav continued on till he almost ran into the slow-travelling group of Mahaben, Boras, the two techs.

By this point, he had noticed the lack of Rebels.

"Er, where is Nookie?"

"You mean Rookie?" Enquired a voice beside him, the slim form of Nurse Ulrike appearing out of nowhere as her memetic suit deactivated, a horizontal blue line scrolling down her form.

Yavscout looked her up and down, noticing the fluffy skirts had gone, but not letting it distract him from the matter of the missing Rebel. "Yeah, what happened to him?"

"We, uh, left him and the other Rebels back in another safe room, back down the tunnel." She shrugged, glaring hard at the rest of the Mercs not to contradict her. She had a feeling the elf would not respond well to learning the Alliance junior getting whacked by their Chiss commander. "Pretty hidden. I'm not sure I could find it again."

Yav nodded to himself. "Okay, I don't know if you got the call, but we have a way off this rock. Charlie Watertin and Deputy somehow made it through the blockade."

* * * *

Yav and the enhanced group made it made to the lift, which Herdfeld had secured by putting a foot in the way of the sliding door, which spasmodically closed on his shoe, jerked a bit, then retreated, every few seconds.

Tag: Those in the groups

 

IC: Beskaryc Taab
Walkway above the hanger bay, Dep S, Orbit of Craci Prime

It didn't take long for his acquisition (he had reverted to old bounty hunter terminology in his mind now) to come to her decision on whether to oppose him or not. Almost before he could finish his ultimatum she had fished the device off of her belt and had keyed in the number sequence that would allow for Edge to escape. Good.

Keeping one eye on the Rodian, he looked out over the edge of the walkway to see his young female...crew mate emerge cautiously from the salon pod. He gave an almost imperceptible nod to himself. She looked to be in good shape, though what these slavers had in store for her Taab could easily surmise. No matter, they wouldn't being bringing in a new prize today. He turned his full attention to the Rodian. "You chose wisely, and so you live." He could have killed her of course, breaking his word gave him few qualms. But in some regard they had made a contract, and she had fulfilled her end of the bargain. Besides, this wasn't personal, the Mercs and this organization simply had a professional disagreement. Perhaps sometime in the future their interets would coincide. Unlikely to be sure, but no use in burning a bridge that hadn't been built yet.

Taab reached down and removed a toxic dart from his grieve mounted launcher. Retracting the sharp blade on his gauntlet he stuck the dart into the soft tissue where her jaw met her throat. "However since I can't have you following me either..." The toxin worked fast and she would be knocked out momentarily. He dropped her unceremoniously to the floor and disentangled her from his whip. In a few hours she would wake up, with a massive headache and perhaps a bit of memory loss, but basically none the worse for wear. He dropped the expended dart in an ammo pouch and grabbed her discarded ion blaster from the carpeted walkway floor. This might come in useful, at the very least he could arm Edge with it until they got to the Luck's Gamble. Speaking of which.

"Quit playing in the dark and do something useful," he called out to her. He wasn't sure she would be able to see him in the darkened hanger, but she should be able to recognize at least the tone of his voice. "Sunny should be in the caravel that just landed, get him out of there and let's get..." he paused for a moment as he got his bearings and tried to remember where he heard the metal on metal scraping sounds of the Mercs transport docking with the Bulwark coming from. "Port side, our ride should be waiting there."

TAG: Heavy Isotope, Sith-I-5, Skywalker_T-65

OOC: Some of Taab's dialogue inspired by The Princess Bride and also Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade

---

IC: Atin Taab
Atop the CSA Governmental Complex, Craci Prime, Craci System

Streets had shown no surprise that Atin had "detained" a civilian during the mid-phase of their leap frog approach to the central building. In fact he didn't seem to care at all as to the Duro's predicament, instead he had looked solely to the next part of their objective, the roof of the central building itself. Atin did well to follow suit and ignore that which had no bearing on their mission.

He lowered the range finder on the right side of his helmet, getting a better look at where they needed to be. As expected the roof was guarded. He counted at least a half dozen ESPOs up there, though they seemed to be milling about and not really paying attention. Atin told the Chiss what he saw as he thought about their options.

They couldn't engage them in a cross building firefight, something that any attempted sniping of them from here would certainly set off. Besides they were supposed to be subtle, at least until they got word from the skipper. If they could take the high ground without the enemy knowing it, it would serve as a substantial tactical advantage for the Mercs. Crossing over and engaging them at close range seemed to be the best bet, but doing so would also prove problematic. Atin's jetpack, though quick, wasn't very subtle. The ESPOs would hear his approach before he arrived and a even if he was a fast moving target, Atin would still be a target.

They would have to be a bit more creative, and so Atin looked to the Chiss who quickly formulated their plan of attack...

---

a few minutes later.

Slapping a fresh magazine in his A-280, Atin performed a quick and dirty AAR (after action review) for himself. Objective secure, he and Streets had taken the rooftop just the way the Chiss had outlined it. There were seven enemy dead, six enlisted and an NCO. Atin had expended half a magazine of ammunition for his new favorite blaster rifle, but no grenades or other explosives had been used. Better still, from what they could tell the ESPOs hadn't gotten off a "contact" call to their superiors. The Mercs now held the high ground, and no one was the wiser. Now it was time to sit and wait on the Captain and his team so they could beat feet off this rock.

---

Later still...

"I've never in my life been so glad to see two mercenaries in my life," Atin scanned the skies as he helped the Captain up to their rooftop position. Their position here was secure, though that could change at any moment as the Imperials exerted more control over the planet. Atin was trying to wrok on his sense of "timing", that unique ability of many mercenaries to know when it was time to call it job well done with and leave while you could. From what he could tell now was the time to be leaving Craci Prime.

TAG: Craci Prime Mercs.

 

IC: Masha Tinovorsh
Hangar Bay, Dep S, Craci Prime Orbit

The weird droid in the energy field passed by, seemingly unaware of her being there, peering through the airlock which was now open completely; she got a buzz from her datapad. Thumbing the touchscreen to play the message quietly, she held it up to her ear and crept through the airlock. "This is...Sunny..." the message played, well, he's still alive, Masha thought during the pause in his sentence. "anyone mind telling me where I'm at? Is it safe to leave this bucket?"

She keyed the channel to keep it open, it would have been nice to have an ear piece or something. Masha never considered one, she'd never done a ground op, and this was supposed to be shore leave... She rolled her eyes at that thought, "you're in a hangar bay now and since I'm still alive you should be able to come through. So, you know, find a way out."

Seemingly from nowhere; "Quit playing in the dark and do something useful," that familiar gruff voice called out. "Sunny should be in the caravel that just landed, get him out of there and let's get..." the Elder Taab paused for a moment, "Port side, our ride should be waiting there."

Not quite yet, Masha thought as began to she yell up to the direction of his voice, "Yep, he just commed me, he's still in that blasted can," the can being the caravel which Masha could barely make out with what light was shining through the airlock. A sudden wave of frustration washed over her, that droid probably heard her, and any crew around as well... "Give me a hand down here, and we'll stop by the bridge on our way back after pulling lil' Sunny out of his box." She said as she ducked out of sight of the droid, it's shield could be seen glowing in the distance but she couldn't tell if it had seen her or not.

She commed back to Sunri, "Sunny sit tight I'm trying to get Old Iron to give us a Hand here... " Quartering with that odd mechanic, Ellie, had seemed to rub off on Masha... Only now realizing what she had said.

TAGS: Bardan_Jusik, Skywalker_T-65, Sith-I-5

 

IC: Winterkill ( as Ezzio Creed )
Imperial garrison, Craci Prime

GO!

Mother Egg (Havah in disguise) signaled with a jab forward.

Within the trooper helm, the nagai’s dark eyes caught images from a cycling helmet cam. Winterkill quickly signed to Havah the things he saw. The landing pad was clear, one of the corridors somewhere was also clear. There was still some armed conflict within the vehicle, but it wasn’t intense, however an AT-AT was present. It was hard to tell if it was merely parked or manned and waiting. Notably, there was an Imperial also parked just outside the garrison.

Winterkill made quick his update, though he wished he could see a bit more, but they were out of time. Upon his suggestion to use hostages, Havah made it clear that speed was of the essence.

Having knowledge of what awaited them outside the doors, thanks to the borrowed trooper helmet, Winterkill quickly relayed positions to Havah, ( as well as his plan of attack) before going to the door. From inside the helmet, Winterkill frowned at the door release, suddenly remembering that the ‘hiss’ sound could give them away, but that was a chance they’d have to take. There was only one guarantee in these situations.

The quick and the dead.

Leveling the stormtrooper blaster weapon, Winterkill hit the door’s release button and stepped out even as the door was opening. He didn’t wait to see if any of the troopers outside the medical bay were alerted by the sound of the opening doors. Winterkill immediately targeted the troopers manning the E-WEBs, and let loose with a relentless crimson volley of death. His targets were unmoving and from what he could see, unsuspecting. So he mowed them down with terrible efficiency.

Before the bodies of the slaughtered troopers could hit the ground, the specter ( of death) threw himself on the floor and rolled to one side, still firing, this time at any other troopers that were standing guard. Hopefully, this would give both Havah and Tiaca a chance to pick off any other troopers, even as he ‘distracted’ them.

No doubt their actions would cause an immediate ‘reaction’ from within the garrison, but that was the nature of things. The key was to manipulate how your enemy reacted, and to use that to your benefit. This was not something that occurred at random, but by deep tactical understanding of warfare. If the trio was to escape alive, nothing but their best effort would do to save their skins.

Tag@Mitth_Fisto, @Intervention, @Sith-I-5 ( Thanks Sith for the the plot points)

******************************************
IC: Mahaben
Tunnels, Craci Prime

Escort duty.

In the end, if your charges did not make it to their given destination, any grandiose encounter had on the way would be meaningless. Thankfully, none of that was the case…at least not yet. The two new techs, who were now mercs, needed to be protected at all cost, which meant Mahaben had no be close to them at all times and act as a veritable radar-dish against danger as well, which was a familiar position for him as a clone war veteran.

Still, the group’s progress was slower than expected, which wasn’t really a good thing. Captain Lasso, who expressed that caution was to be their priority, also demanded that they should proceed with all due haste. A tall order for sure.

In his mind, the ex-jedi had resolved not to involve himself with anything else that did not directly affect the mission. There were just too many ‘extraneous factors’ unravelling seemingly all at once. For him, it was best to keep a tight focus for now. He’d just have to watch as events came around full circle, as they often did.

Extending his force senses to cover a large area, Mahaben kept the group alert and able to avoid a number of unpleasant encounters. Remaining ‘invisible’ was the very best option in this case, despite the slow movement it afforded them. ’Twas a bit of a conundrum to be sure.

Nurse Ulrike and the others were in command of this particular op and did most of the directing, as expected. They were officially Mercs after all. At present, they focused their efforts on moving the group with greater alacrity.

A sensation which was slowly becoming familiar in the force, alerted him when the ‘elf’, the merc they called Yav, approached them. For some odd reason which Mahaben could not fathom, it did seem that this elf avoided looking his way; this was a small detail and easy to miss, but not so to the ex-jedi. Most curious indeed.

Yav and Nurse Ulrike exchanged some banter regarding the missing rebels. Mahaben said nothing. He was confident that what some less known cultures called ‘karma’, which was a universal principle, would have its final say regarding a great many things.

“….we have a way off this rock.” The elf informed.

That was good to hear. Now the question was, how many would remain to make it off on that ship. This was mere curiosity. For him, he went wherever he was lead to go.

But for now, his focus was to complete the escort duty of the two techs and ensure that the rest of the group stayed alive. Thus, he followed, always alert and mindful of any dangers in their vicinity, ready to leap into action, should there be no other recourse.


Tag: @Sith-I-5, GM (Brief posts. Working on getting back up to speed)

 

OOC: Got my little heart set on paying homage to the Matthew Broderick’ Godzilla reboot.

IC: Yavscout, Nurse Ulrike, Technician Herdfeld “B.A.”, Yav’s fantasy turbolift, CSA Government Complex
Location: Craci Prime

Elevator musak

The turbolift slid smoothly upwards, then stopped with an ominous clank, the bronzium-plated door sliding aside to show the gathered Mercs a relatively unexpected sight, a dark corridor, lit only by sporadic emergency lighting along its wide, slightly curved length, scattered with food debris and containers, populated by…

“Milking dinosaurs!”

The elf, who had been slyly watching Mahaben's reflection in the bronzium walls, reacted to the tone in her voice, and looked forward.

There were about a dozen man-height creatures, coarse scaled skin, massive hind legs, thick tails for balance, abbreviated forelegs, the nearest a hundred metres from them,. There were signs of giant eggs nearby, indicating that whatever the feth they were, these were the babies.

The closest, munching on a plastic bag of popcorn pressed between knobbly lethal-looking jaws, paused in mid-crunch, looking at them.

“Press the button!” Yav urged, eyes locked with those of the popcorn-munching dinosaur.

“I’m trying,” Ulrike reported, jabbing repeatedly at the control panel, while Herdfeld opened his laptop, pushing between his two fellow techs to use the waist-high handrail at the back of the lift to support it, and started typing one-handed on the dark-grey keyboard.

“Lift has been over-ridden from the Security Station.” The large-headed tech reported. “Calling up info on it now.”

“Ah, that’s where the captain wanted my team to go.” The nurse put in.

Yav nodded. “If we cannot over-ride the signal from here, we’ll have to storm the place.”

"You sure? The Security Station is an armored bunker of sorts, it's walls, floor, and ceiling made of high-grade starship armor laced with lightsaber resistance materials, while it's 17 windows are Transparisteel with retractable blast doors able to cover them-"

"Okay, frak that." Ulrike and Yav agreed, the elf side-stepping to the lift's comm unit, to talk to, well, whoever answered really.

"Alpha Sector Command, Security Station." Someone answered promptly. "Ted speaking."

Yav continued his staring match with the two-legged lizard. He had a feeling that if he broke his gaze away, it would charge. "Ted. This is turblift-" He hesitated, not knowing the designation.

"326-3827," Herdfeld supplied, his back to them.

"-turbolift 326-3827. Have you got that many turbolifts, or is it just a cool name for a lift?"

"Cool name for a lift."

"I see. Look Ted, we need you to release the lift, please."

"Sorry, not my idea; someone here with their gun to my head. And whoever he is, he's co-opted my guard detail of 27 battle droids, and greased my C.O."

Yavscout felt the surge of adrenalin as the word 'RESCUE' infused his very being. "Ulrike, get-hey!" he protested after she reached up and slapped the back of his head.

"You are not going to rescue him!"

"But you heard the man; he's in trouble."

"He's an Espo, feth him!" Ulrike snapped back.

"No, listen to her, she's right," Ted's voice unexpectedly joined in over the lift's comm-speaker, while the other Mercs shifted restlessly. "Although her last two words are a bit harsh."

“This is the owner of the gun to Ted’s head.” A new voice came over the speaker, “I’m only here for Mr Vortex. I will release your lift when your roof team sends him down to me.”

"B.A.?" Yav called back to Herdfeld.

"Commander?"

"Can you remote slice into the guardian droids at the security station?"

Herdfeld’s little mouth pouted into a frown, "S’pose, but it'd be dues ex machina."

"What's that when it's at home?"

“Latin.” Ulrike supplied, “though I have no idea how I know that.”

“Hold on…” The Toong murmured, concentrating on the task at hand. “Hacking into one of the B2 Super Battle Droids.”

“I suggest you comm your roof team sooner, rather than later. It won’t be long before those creatures notice you.”

There was a faint plasticky splat as the bag of popcorn dropped from the dinosaur’s jaws. The lizard signalled its siblings with little whines, drawing their attentions to the contents of the turbolift.

"That was an odd sound," The Nosarian tech observed from behind the elf. "Did you just sith yourself?"

Yav was caught off guard at the sudden fury he felt at the implication. He'd accept that nonsense from Deputy every day, but this new tech had not yet earned the right. “B.A.!”

“Gimme a minute.”

“We don’t have a minute!”

“What if they charge?” Ulrike asked, eyes wide as the further lizards started to creep gradually closer.

“We’ll try to negotiate them down to a lower price!” Yav retorted sarcastically, “What do you mean, what if they charge? They’re animals, not lawyers!”

“I dunno, I’ve known some lawyers-” Herdfeld put in.

“Shut up and keep typing!”

Zap!

The sound of a discharged blaster over the speaker was followed by the sound of a body collapsing.

“Boom, headshot!” Ted reported, his tone a lot happier. “Though I could do with a paper towel. Releasing your lift now.”

Despite the late save, and the turbolift door sealing before them, Yav frowned at the Espo’s cooperation. “Are you sure about this? What about the risk, infinitesimal I grant you, that if Mr Vortex escapes, the Empire will crumble?”

“**** ‘em.”

“Fair enough.” The elf raised eyebrows and nodded. “B.A., great job.”

A few moments later, warm air and daylight flooded into the lift as the doors opened on the roof, Yav nodding at Lasso, Dak, Atin and, unexpectedly, Commander Chris Streets.

“As I Chiss and breathe, what the frag are you doing here?” He greeted, stepping forward to shake the blue-faced humanoid’s hand.

Tag: Bravo, and hopefully, Vehn, Master Selkath, greyjedi125

 

IC: Kannari Oshi
Crashed Hoverbus, Irradiated Spaceport, Craci Prime


"Yuna puna. (First class)." The Twi’lek said with a nod. Kannari watched the Twi’lek with her sharp gold eyes, the bounty hunter seemed to be weighing up his options before relenting and removing his blaster pistol from Nialls back. Once the man’s weapon was securely holstered, Kannari lowered her own weapon, giving the Twi’lek a soft nod of approval and respect “Good Man…” She said as she holstered her own pistol. The man seemed to have some honor, for a bounty hunter at least. "So, what's your plan?" He asked, ignoring the snivelling smuggler lying at their feet.

Casting her gaze back down to her communicator, she pressed a button near the mic. A recording of her previous distress call started to play, but cut out to silence as she pressed the button again. A small green light started to flash on-off-on-off on her wrist as she looked back at the Twi’lek. “I’ve set distress call on a loop. It’s a long shot, but maybe someone will pick up” The weary Cathar growled out as she reached up and mopped her brow with the back of her clawed hand. It was starting to get warm in here. She glanced around her surroundings, at the dead and injured, at the swirling dust and debris that surrounded the damaged bus and let out a sigh. Most of the civilians here were in no condition to move, never mind tackle the debris field outside…“First we must stabilize any injured as best we can” She said to the Twi’lek.

Kneeling down towards the still pinned down Niall, she looked at the deceased Ishi Tib and frowned slightly. Blowing out a breath, she reached down in order to move the body “Forgive me. May your soul be free in the great sky river. Ana mawe (Be at peace)” She whispered before carefully and respectfully moving the fallen man’s body aside in order to free Niall. Her face hardened somewhat as she looked back at her (soon to be former) client. Reaching down, she pulled him up to standing, a steely look in her eyes as her clawed hand held onto his jacket lapels “Want to make up for your deception?” Her voice was a low growl, her anger towards him still plain to see “Then help these people” She finished sharply before releasing the smuggler and pointing towards the buses overhead lockers.

“Check for a first aid kit, Use anything you can find for dressings, put pressure on wounds to try and stop bleeding.” She instructed to them both as she turned and made her way towards the front of the bus where the storm-trooper still sat strapped to the chair, his groans of pain audible through the white full face helmet.

“Hey” She said firmly, but there was concern in her words as she spoke “Do you have any injuries? Is anything broken?” She checked her wrist communicator for a second before looking back at the armored man “I’m going to get you out of there”


TAG: Sith-I-5

 

IC: Rhen Var

Priest looked out the viewport of the Paragon as Hyperspace from Starlines to the mottled and pocked vista of real space. Ahead the icy orb of Rhen Var hung, too far from the Sun to sustain temperate climates that most humans found agreeable, but it still was warm enough to allow humans to build and survive on the surface. In preparation for landing, Priest secured the hyperdrive and tuned his com to the frequency his contact had given him when the transport contract was signed. The cockpit hatch hissed open on its hydraulics and Coffee, Priest's modified FIII Footman droid trundled in. Coffee had been a courier for Priest's father, tasked for carrying data too sensitive to transmit for clients. He had fortunately been off world when Alderaan was destroyed and his programming compelled him to seek Priest out, which he had done.

Alderaan...

Priest's breath caught in his throat and his heart began beating faster. His vision began to tunnel and he felt like he was about to pass out. He reached into his pocket, retrieving a small green pill and a box of cigarillos. He dry swallowed the pill and then lit the cigarillo which filled the cabin with a gray-bluish smoke. He inhaled, and as the sweet-spice hit his bloodstream he felt himself slowly calm. Thinking about his destroyed home still caused great anxiety. He hoped it would get easier, but he highly doubted it.

"Sir, our cargo is secure, Shall I man the cannon?" Coffee replied a tone of concern emitting from his vocalizer.

"No, Coffee, I don't expect trouble here; man the co-pilot's station and monitor com traffic; Let me know when we reach the first marker, and when we are approved to land."

"Compliance," was all Coffee responded. He was a good droid, quiet and to the point, and he was a good companion. Priest trimmed the etherial rudder and rotated the Paragon to orient to the planet.

TAG: Bravo Sith-I-5

OOC: I haven't created a Character Sheet for Coffee to be approved yet; I just thought that Priest needed a companion. Let me know if approved
http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/FIII_Footman_droid

 

IC: Surgeon-Commander Debgate, Benny the Seatrooper, conference room, Imperial Hospital Ship, the Rad Pitt
location: hovering over flattened spaceport


That Debgate was a statuesque blonde female who towered several inches over most Standard Humans, was not immediately apparent when she was seated, her long legs tucked under the oval wooden table that dominated the conference room, situated immediately behind the Blockade Runner’s bridge.

She was beautiful in most senses, her pale white face enclosed by thick layers of light yellow hair.
Her silver one-piece radiation suit, whilst figure-hugging, was not particularly flattering.

“Any sign of that juggernaut?” She enquired in anxious tones, only too aware that every minute wasted up here, people woud perish in the radioactive inferno that had been the Craci Prime Imperial-class spaceport.

Benny shook his head. “Negative.”

Deb nodded. She had been briefed by ComScan that they had just begun to receive a looped distress beacon, which was sort of a good sign.

Someone had to be conscious and at least a bit dexterous to set one off.

She knew there were silver-armoured Rad Troopers, radiation-trained stormtroopers, walking through the rubble, searching for survivors, and the source of the repeating signal.

A junior officer in the uniform of the Imperial Navy, stepped into the room after knocking, and presented Benny with a datapad. He in turn looked across the table to her. “They have found the source of the signal, Deb. A passenger vehicle on its side under the collapsed terminal building.”

She nodded, pushing her hands on the table top to help her stand. “Ensign, have the Captain start tractoring the vehicle to the edge of the radiation zone. As soon as possible, start foaming it down so we can safely extract the passengers.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” The junior officer retreated.

Tag: no point as the date has arrived that everyone is on the Johnny Boy.

 

IC: Chris Streets
Craci Prime, Atop the CSA Government Complex buildings

Covering the kid through his scope had been easy, there was nothing to shoot that he could see from this angle on the first building. Nor anything that seemed to scramble to edge of either of the farther away buildings along the ring. All too easy.

Taking out his grapple line with a molecular secure pad, he hooked it onto the undercarriage of the droid and adjusted the length of wire so that his head would rest just between the down swept wings. It would be a cozy position, down washed from the repulorlifts would be a pain in keeping clear eyed on things, but a little protection in transit and ability to stabilize himself with one hand on a wing was worth more than the detraction of the little wash. Not to mention he helped to practice balancing in different ways to prepare for a surfing adventure. Even if it was only ice surfing, something he feared he still had to introduce to most of the Mercs.

---

A few minutes later. . .

The ride up had been uneventful to the most, the pad on his arm that displayed a small static image of what the droid saw and targeted had cycled between cleaning persons and the odd room to room securing of the building he was flying up past. Then it had showed him the cowering alien with the Mando before he landed. Being prepared he simply had ignored the pile of flesh.

A few taps on the controls the droid leveled off so he was able to transition from a cradled position to walking with his feet just on the ground, and head still just below the round body of the droid. The kid, Atin, relayed what the situation was on the next roof, their main goal at the center of this star pattern. Six. Hmm.

Putting a hand to chin for a moment he unhooked the cable from his belt and passed it to the Mando as he re-took out his rifle. "It'll lift you above the building level, and rapid drop you down to ten feet off the roof in the middle. Unhook as it jerks to a halt, and begin doing your thing. I'll cover outliers from here and from the droid."

---

Several minutes later. . .

The mission had been a success and soon the droid returned with only one dart less in it's cartridge and two shots from his rifle. Using a clear gas canisters and sound suppressors limited the range to a few hundred meters, but for this, it was enough to keep things mostly quiet. The droid on it's return shot a dart into the huddled mass on the roof. All was well, as unfortunately himself and a Mando together would be enough to send off alarms in the Empire as to who they truly were here. Being a distinctive species did have it's down sides in this part of the galaxy.

"I've never in my life been so glad to see two mercenaries in my life," Atin scanned the skies as he helped the Captain up to their rooftop position.Streets merely shrugged before leaning back on a wall as if he was lounging by a sea side cabana. His eyes scanned the horizon as the kid Atin looked to the skies. When more arrived and the elf as well he simply looked at them and responded to all as one, "I prefer most wanted man in the galaxy. . .and you should know I needed another thrill ride. This spot looked like a nice one to watch it from." he responded with a grin to Safety, Atin and the Captain as he toed a dead body.

TAG: Bravo, Bardan_Jusik, At whoever

---

IC: Havah Jeth / Tiaca
Imperial Garrison, Craci Prime

Winterkill went in with a stream of blaster shots, and Tiaca was close on his heals. She stepped out, kicked off the door frame to dive in the opposite direction and supplied a second level of 'spray and pray' to the E-webs before tracking the targets in the opposite corner that Winterkill went to. Havah for his part worked on a bit of grit under one gloved nail while an outstretched hand with a blaster in it held back the nurse for a count of two.

When he came around the corner his dark BoSS agent robe billowing in the motion he walked out to a subdued and finishing battle. The storm troopers were all down or falling, Winterkill and Tiaca both were still in prime fighting form and he simply walked forward adding a shot to the head of those he passed. Stopping at the E-Web he unplugged and replugged a power cord with a slight of hand to drop a thin wafer inside. If someone tried to fire it, it would overload. Best way to cover their rears that he knew as they couldn't take it with them and a full disable would take too long.

"Two options. We try to take the Walker or we try to take the space capable ship in bay 3A that we were initially going to 'inspect'. Seeing our situation, a vote then move." he had raised his left hand for the Walker and then his right for the ship. Giving an indication of what they all where supposed to do to signal which way to go. While he looked down the corridors he knew one would be to the left, the other to the right. Time for all, even the nurse, to chime in. Tiaca wasted no time by raising her right arm.

TAG: greyjedi125, Bravo, Sith-I-5 if he wants to.

 

OOG:

WW, visit our Quick Reference for details on the secret base.

Wildwookiee, I will finish this post tomorrow. Its close to midnight here (I'm falling asleep at the computer ) and I need to be up in six and a half hours for work. I'll finish this post Saturday night!



IC: Major Christopher T. George
"Command," Outpost Nowhere (building to right), Rhen Var


Major Christopher T. George had his legs up on the desk, an ashtray of used cigarettes by his boots on the desk, and a console screen steadily reading down various data just beyond the ashtray; a window looked out towards the bridge and guard in the foreground as The End played softly from his computer console. A cup of hot coffee swirled it's steam away by the ashtray with a picture of tropical islands on the Kingdom of Jod home world of Jod where, a few years ago, he and a few other soldier buddies of his posed for a picture in their ole King's Army outfits while on a deployment to the islands on a standard rotation. Those were the days, both when the four of them in the picture were all fighting for the same cause, and when they all wore the same good ole King's Army uniforms. Now-a-days, one of them were dead fighting for the newly renamed Confederate Authority (which dethroned the Royal House from power in the Kingdom of Jod during the first stages of the Jod Civil War in 0 B.B.Y), another was missing in action after the ill-advised "Big Drop" on the Beast home world, and another was a "rebel" fighting for Loyalists Resistance Forces (LRF) on Jod fighting against the Confederates. And then there was Christopher himself, working for what remained of the legit Royal House of the Kingdom of Jod, wearing the new battle armor of the newly created Strategic Command Army of the Royal House of the now-in-exile government of the Kingdom of Jod, the rightful successor government of the once legendary Red Rock Kingdom. Why was he wearing battle armor inside a building?

Well, it kept him warm. Frost was always building up on the inside Transparisteel ledges from the freezing temperatures outside and when one breathed, frost was a normal appearance if you were on the graveyard shift or early morning shift and there wasn't the consistence of body heat to warm the room up. So the added heat of coffee, hot chocolate (a favorite of Lieutenant Farley of 3rd Squad), or hot tea was almost always a welcome addition to any shift. Despite heat generators---that were kept a bit on the cooler side to reduce heat signatures from sensor scans and the overall heat build-up in the cavern itself to prevent melting---the buildings themselves were generally cold, but not freezing. It was rare to not see someone wearing full----or close to---cold weather gear outside of personal quarters. Personal quarters and personnel bunk rooms were adequately heated to provide base personnel a sense of warmth and home on the frozen planet, but even then some personnel still slept in at least half shell cold weather gear in their beds to keep warm.

While notoriously uncomfortable to wear in an office chair, the "Cold Weather" Specialized Environment Armor Combat Suit or CW-SEA provided more then adequate warmth....


TBC

 

IC: Winterkill ( as Ezzio Creed )
Imperial garrison, Craci Prime

As the nagai fired and rolled, an additional hail of blaster bolts fell upon the whiteshells, coming from the direction of the med bay doors. The snake ( Tiaca) had emerged. She did not spew poison-laiden invectives, but instead, focused on delivering deadly strikes, as was wont of any snake worth its venom.

The whiteshells did not stand a chance under their combined barrage.

Winterkill rose up in a smooth motion and reloaded his weapon. He glanced towards the snake, making sure her weapon was not pointed at him.

A moment later, the disguised Havah Jeth emerged with their ‘hostage’, dispensing a few ‘mercy shots’ to several of the fallen and dying stormtroopers.

The nagai watched as their leader ‘disabled’ several E-Webs, then proceeded to do a quick sit-rep, giving them their options.

Left: Which lead to at At-AT walker, or RIGHT: which lead to the Bay 3A.

Tiaca beat the nagai’s response time by a mere heartbeat. She had chosen ‘right’, the same as Winterkill.

He signed to Havah, that the Walker was both too obvious and to slow. The Juggernaut was, in his estimation, a better choice.

Waiting on a final decision, Winterkill pressed himself against the wall to cover them against any possible enemies. Quickly, he checked the feeds within his helmet to update them on their current situation and any possible development in their escape attempt.

Tag: @Mitth_Fisto, GM & Co-GM

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

IC: Mahaben
Tunnels, Craci Prime

Trusting in the Force.

It was a concept not easily explained. It was even harder to convey to those who had trust issues altogether. Beings who couldn’t trust themselves, much less others whom they could see. How then could they be expected to understand trusting on something they could not easily perceive.

Despite these minor concerns, Mahaben remained calm and trusted in the Force, even as the lift stopped and a new obstacle presented itself to the gathered group of Mercs.

Nurse Ulrike, the elf Yav, and one of the techs were savvily handling the unique ‘hostage’ situation at the Security Station while the ex-jedi kept a careful watch over the razor toothed lizards; the whole dozen of them. Not only were they not ‘lightsaber’ resistant, like the Security Station itself, but the odds were actually in on the ex-jedi’s favor. Mahaben would rather spare the creatures and avoid slaughtering them, but too often there would be little to no choice in these situations.

In the force, Mahaben felt another death, which was confirmed by the ‘freed’ lift operator: Ted. The tech’s remote gambit had paid off.

“Great Job.” The elf said in exclamation to the tech. B.A. was his name. Mahaben simply nodded, then checked on everyone else. So far so good.

Moments later, the group reached the roof, where they were joined by the Captain, his droid, the young mandalorian, and a new individual, presumably another merc.

As greetings were exchanged, Mahaben probed the currents of the Force. The grip of darkness was still tightening over Craci Prime. If they did not act soon……

“Captain…..” Mahaben called out as he looked into the distance, his dusty jedi robe languidly flapped in response to a momentary breeze.

“What exactly is over in that direction?” He inquired as he pointed with a hand. “ I sense a few of your men over yonder. They are in grave danger…”

The blindfolded man pointed in the direction of the Imperial garrison. Another place saturated by the forces of death and entropy, another location where the light was being extinguished.


Tag: @Sith-I-5, @Bravo

 

IC: Byron and Frankie (rodian nrcs), Crewperson Mary Formal, Dep S Bulwark-class cruiser
Location: Craci Prime orbit


The two jumpsuited SPAGETTI operatives, proud of what they were doing to support their race's persecuted Tetsus Clan, had taken stimulants - Byron a stimshot into his left forearm, the green sleeve rolled up; Frankie a snoutful a white powder, spice of some type - and armed themselves with glowrods and E-5 blasters.

Frankie glanced up his crew-mate's white-powdered snout as they approached the blast door leading into the hangar floor-level. "Er, you still got some...you know-"

"We have injured friends, and armed intruders on the ship, and you are worried about my appearance?" Bryon kissed the dental ridges that passed for teeth in rodians.

Pushing the door open, he straightened both arms ahead of him, crossing them at the wrist so that the E-5 aimed in somewhat the same direction as the diffused white glowbeam lancing right-to-left through the unlit hangar space, while Frankie, his gun and glowrod aimed to the deck, followed close behind till Byron cleared the doorway.

Frankie, blending into the darkness to his right, so that all that could be seen with normal eyes would be the light from his glowrod, stepped into the gap between one of the caravels and the side of the hangar.

"Hello?" He called tentatively into the stygian cave-like blackness.

"We're your new neighbors." Byron clarified from the same side of the hangar as the even more hidden Taab.

"Don't be alarmed, we're rodians."

"Naw man, naw. There's too much bass in your voice. That scares Humans. You got to sound like them." Byron adopted a whiny, high-pitched tone. "We were wondering if we could borrow some green sugar...?"

* * * *
Portside docking area

Sitting on the deck out of the security droids' line of fire, Mary swore as the makeup compact, sort of a little clamshell object with a circular mirror in one half, opened the wrong way and spilled cream-coloured facial powder down her black flex-armour. "Sith!"

Oh well.

She snapped the device in half, discarded the bit that had held the powder and face dabber, and slid the half with the mirror out across the mouth of the corridor, so that when she stood, and stepped back a bit, she would see an approaching B1's reflection before it saw her.

"Check that out, Corporal." She heard the lead droid order.

"Roger roger."

Formal tucked her knees under her and rose as quickly as as her gold cheongsam outfit allowed, retreating across the airlock vestibule, whilst dialing down the power on her E-11 and switching it back to single shot. She wanted her blaster bolt to bounce off the mirror, rather that vapourise it.

Gun aimed, she manovered slightly to get a better angle. Of course, the droid could try the same sith, bounce a shot at her if it saw her reflection in the mirror, but she was relying on the automaton not understanding the significance.

Mary raised her E-11 so that she could see down the sight on the barrel, not to take the risk of different angles between where she could see, and where the gun was.

She pressed the trigger, single green bolt flashing down to the mirror, flashing up out of sight into the corridor, then the rewarding crash of a felled battledroid, some bits of metal debris rolling and sliding into sight.

"You alright, Corporal?"

"Of course he's not alright!" Mary snapped, "Look at him!"

"Flush her out, Corporal."

"Roger roger."

Mary rolled her eyes, and waited for the next one to appear. Don't these drokkers ever learn?

Tag: Heavy Isotope, Bardan_Jusik, Skywalker_T-65

---

IC: Commander Yavscout, Nosarian tech, roof of a Corporate Sector government tower, CSA complex.


"I prefer most wanted man in the galaxy. . ." Streets responded with a grin, "and you should know I needed another thrill ride. This spot looked like a nice one to watch it from."

"It is a nice spot." Yav agreed, readily, raising his face to the sun to bask in the warmth.

Behind him, he heard the jedi. “Captain…..what exactly is over in that direction?” He inquired as he pointed with a hand. “I sense a few of your men over yonder. They are in grave danger…”

The Nosaurian spoke up, "That'll be the Imperial Garrison."

Yavscout turned from the sun, and looked back at the others, focussing on Lasso. "Jase, do we have a team there?"

Tag: Bravo, greyjedi125

OOC: Forgot to mention I quoted or paraphrased the Bad Boys film, via IMDB's facilities.