Star Wars 5 BBY - The Imperial Fist

IC: Romeyn Oakes
The Blue Mynock-Approaching Geonosis

Sleep had been difficult to come by. Oakes wasn't sure at this point if it was the strange thrumming of the engines as they worked overtime to propel the Skipray Blastboat through hyperspace or the numerous cups of cafa he had delightedly made for the crew that had prevented him from refreshing his mind. At this point, he could use all the clarity he could get as the red-orange planet of Geonosis sprang into view as the Blue Mynock reverted to real space.

"Grim! Grab navi, and keep an eye out." she called out

Striker's voice from the cockpit stirred his sleep in the very aft of the vessel and he raced forward to see what had prompted the sharp command. One quick scan of the sensors told him everything he needed to know. A vessel was orbiting Geonosis. That was all the information he could dissect at the moment.

What have we stumbled across way out here on Geonosis? This planet has long since fallen off the galactic radar Romeyn wondered as he stared at the planet beyond the transparisteel windows of the cockpit.

Striker swore. "Dont tell me someone else got to this dump heap first!"

The comm link buzzed to life and a hailing message suddenly blared through the speakers. It was a bit indiscernible from Romeyn Oakes' position toward the rear of the cabin but its intent seemed clear enough. Oakes' gut twisted as the Skipray Blastboat continued to approach Geonosis. Something didn't feel right here.

"TL Transport. Hail received. What can we do for you?" striker spoke, her voice much lower like it was the first time Grim and Oakes had met her.

"Captain, if I may make a suggestion. Keep your distance and continue running scans on their vessel. Look, I know I may just be the ship's cook and some rancher from Roon, but believe me, I've got a world of sad stories to tell about personal betrayal and business deals gone south. I was a lucky find for you. An honest guy who simply needed a way to help someone out and catch a ride home. But these people, it just feels off. I don't care if they're not Imperial, frankly, at least with the Empire you know what you're getting yourself into. This time, well, I'd start thinking about more aggressive options should you detect one sign that they are going to vaporize us," Romeyn cautioned.

"Betrayal is a fickle thing," Romeyn added, folding his arms across his chest. "And before you ask, no, I don't normally shoot first and ask questions later."

"Grim, what do you think?"

His face reflected a bitter memory. Pain emanated from his eyes. It was all coming back to him now. And he didn't like this transport one bit.

Tag: Ktala, GreyJedi

 

Geonosis Orbit
TL-1200 Transport Duraless

"They sound like Imperials," his sensor operator murmured, causing Mij to roll his eyes while looking over at his Cerean navigations officer who offered a hint of a grin. This was not a road untraveled when it came to Imperials.

"Well if you're here to answer our advertisement, then you'll be helping us with our little salvage job." Only giving a moment of pause, Mij continued with, "Who did you think you were going to be conducting the salvage job for? We're just here to protect our investment. Point you in the right direction even as we know exactly where to look."

The human member of his bridge crew was giving Mij a warning look, one that told him that he should not be speaking so casually with the new arrivals. The captain just shrugged it off as his hand sought the flask that he kept tucked in his vest. While waiting for a reply, Mij tipped is head back and took a sip of the alcohol contained within. Dodbri whiskey. Cheap stuff but it was pretty strong.

TAG: Ktala, grey, Liam

 

IC: Kol Arantis
Aboard ICS Impinger, Deep Space Nav Point

After waiting a few moments for the no-doubt flustered pilot of the harried MorningStar to respond, the bridge crew of the Impinger was met with a seemingly uneasy voice - no doubt, given the circumstances.

"Ye...yes, Impinger. "Gand is being pursued by five smugglers in G-59s, one Z-95, and one BTL-A4. Gand is a law-abiding citizen who knows too much about their operations and would appreciate assistance."

His ship then diverted from a rather speedy flyby of the Light Covertte and swung around, on a vector to engage the vessels that would imminently rocket out of hyperspace.

Arantis nodded to Senn to allow the intervention to continue and, arms crossed, gripped his elbow. In his head he finished a countdown he had started since the newcomers? exit radiation bursts had first appeared. 3?2?1? Eyeing the tactical displays intently, he pointed a black-gloved hand, and on cue the fields lit up with red IFF?s as the five craft exited hyperspace.

The first ship was a one-manned Y-Wing. It materialized in very close proximity to the Corvette and began evasive maneuvers, but before Kol could even order the ship to stand down, its cockpit was vaporized by a torrent of fire from the MorningStar. And the dead fighter tumbled listlessly off into the vacuum.

While Arantis had hoped to use his vessel as a deterrent to diffuse whatever standoff would have been at hand, he now knew that would be impossible. He keyed his weapons command station, ?Gunnery, give ?em hell. Vape all tagged targets as they revert.?

As the remaining ships appeared as a cohesive unit, they immediately were in action, dodging a whirling to avoid the sickening green punch of Impinger?s big guns. All the while the little MorningStar wove between them offenders, adding its own color to the Imperial barrage. Maneuvering at breakneck speed, a trio of Z-95 class vessels accelerated toward Kol?s ship, trying to dodge its fire on their attack run.

If the Rendili Light Corvette had a design flaw, it was one that affected most other Imperial vessels of a wedge-shaped superstructure: the lack of guns mounted beneath and below the ship?s main hull configuration. The Corvette magnified this in that its only primary armament, six double turbolaser turrets, was entirely topside mounted. Clearly the enemy fighters sought to dart quickly around to where the ship was essentially defenseless and unleash their hardest-hitting attacks. However patrolling the spacelanes for three years in the same ship gave Arantis and his crew quite a bit of experience on how to use the Rendili Light?s exceptional maneuverability to its complete advantage. ?Helm, go full astern. Bow down thirty degrees, divert all shield power to engines and auxiliary thrusters to give us the extra punch!? He looked to Senn with a smirk as the starfield outside swung past the viewports while the Impinger responded to the orders. ?We?ll catch ?em in a field of fire like that time over Ando. Won?t have time to react.?

?Let?s hope the plating holds once they realize what we?re doing,? the ensign shot back as the ship?s turbolasers increased their fire rate to envelop the oncoming enemy trio, casting a dull green haze across the bridge.

?They won?t have time,? Arantis replied over the thunder.

TAG: EternalLurker

 

Striker
TL-1200 Transport - Geonosis Orbit

They had just reached Genosis, and already, had received a hail.

Oakes was quick to respond. "Captain, if I may make a suggestion. Keep your distance and continue running scans on their vessel. Look, I know I may just be the ship's cook and some rancher from Roon, but believe me, I've got a world of sad stories to tell about personal betrayal and business deals gone south. I was a lucky find for you. An honest guy who simply needed a way to help someone out and catch a ride home. But these people, it just feels off. I don't care if they're not Imperial, frankly, at least with the Empire you know what you're getting yourself into. This time, well, I'd start thinking about more aggressive options should you detect one sign that they are going to vaporize us," Romeyn cautioned.

Striker had to smile. Already, they were thinking like a crew, Grim was also busy, looking over the controls as they approached. Striker opened up her comlink channel.

"TL Transport. Hail received. What can we do for you?"

"Well if you're here to answer our advertisement, then you'll be helping us with our little salvage job." He paused for a moment. "Who did you think you were going to be conducting the salvage job for? We're just here to protect our investment. Point you in the right direction even as we know exactly where to look."

FRACK! Frack frack frack! This was a leash job?? That had not been mentioned.

"Betrayal is a fickle thing," Romeyn added, folding his arms across his chest. He asked Grim his opinion on what was heard so far. Striker couldnt help but agree. She then looked back out the view screen.

With a growl, Striker hit her comlink switch.

"There was no mention of the job having a leash attached. If you know EXACTLY where to go, then YOU go get it. What do you need us for? I'm not playing fodder, just so you can follow us, and scoop up our hard earnings."

Striker looked over at Grim, giving him a look, even as she kept her hands close to her weapons. She didnt mind a good haggle, but she was not about to become flunkies for some twits in a ship, who might not even been the jobbers. After all, they didnt ident themselves. They could be another crew, looking to take their hard earnings.

"Whats the chit or this job?" she asked the ship, as she continued to keep the ship in motion, not stopping in any one spot.


TAG: grey, Liam, Sarge

 

Geonosis Transport
TL-1200 Transport Duraless

The grimace that Mij made was not just because of the cheap alcohol but rather the angry-sounding words of the crew of the Blastboat. Yes, they did leave a couple things out in the job postings but you would think that volunteers such as these would think that there was someone who would be interested on what they would find.

"Your reaction is understandable," the human continued as he placed his flask back in his vest. "But while we do know where to look, we still need help tracking down the salvage that we're seeking."

Mij turned to look over at the Cerean who was, in turn, looking at him with a questioning look. The human captain nodded in confirmation and the alien immediately went to work at his console.

"We're transmitting some files to you now. What they are, exactly, are Imperial reports of personnel that have gone missing. In the beginning they were few and far between but the latest report, if you read it, shows that contact was lost with an entire squad of troopers only a couple of weeks ago. Looking over the reports, we have managed to deduce a general area of where the disappearances have taken place."

Another glance to his bridge crew awarded Mij with another nod from his communications officer. The files containing the reports and the area of where they are to search should have been sent to the crew of the Blastboat by now.

"Now," Mij continued, "our interest in this is very simple. As you may know, Geonosis was a center of numerous conflicts in the Clone Wars due to the fact that it had possessed numerous droid and weapon production facilities built for the Separatists. Despite the Old Republic having kept tight control after the First Battle of Geonosis, the Geonosians managed to wrest control and resume operations with a massive foundry that was later destroyed when clone forces assaulted the planet. To put it simply, we're hoping that these disappearances are signs of another Geonosian group that is still fighting back."

The human allowed a moment of silence to come in, mostly for the crew he was speaking with to digest the history and wonder why it has any relevance for today. "What we're hoping is to actually come into contact with this group. Knowing of the Geonosians and their technical genius, couple that with their hate for the Empire, I'm hoping that we may be able to uncover some salvage or technical information that they might be willing to share or donate. Course, we have to find them and if they don't want to find us, we need some more people to help with a search for them or the salvage."

Another pause though Mij knew he was going to have to get right to the most important part: the price.

"I promise that your contributions will be rewarded greatly if we do find anything. The people that I work for will be very much appreciative for any kind of salvage that we can locate."

TAG: Ktala, grey, Liam


GM Imperial Note: Upon seeing a lack of action, I had contacted Littledawg last night to get an update on his situation. Due to certain personal matters, Littledawg has conceded to leaving the game as much of his time and responsibilities are being occupied elsewhere. Thus we have a Star Destroyer without a captain. Not exactly a problem as I will be able to take control. Just thought that those who may be wondering where he is would like to know

 

Argen Devalie

Somewhere...

Lighting arced across the skyline, an electrical dance that lingered in his vision like a bad memory. Electrical storms in the Vertical City weren?t to uncommon, all the metal made for great conduction, but rain was something else. When it rained on Nar Shaddaa it pored, and it didn?t just pour water, but misery and sorrow. Rain was supposed to wash away the dirt and grime of all it touched, but not here.

Argen was thankful for the rain though, the falling sheets did wonders at hiding his tears. Argen was not one to cry, but staring down at his mother, her form broken, twisted, and scarred by whatever instrument of death her assailants had wielded, he could not help but cry. One of the police officers who had escorted him there put a hand on his shoulder and said something, but he didn?t pay attention.

According to the officers, she?d been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Argen almost laughed at that, Nar Shaddaa was always the wrong place, at the wrong time, despite that he continued listening. Two Swoop gangs, the Volkiers and the Crimson Hawkbats, had instigated a turf war and Argen?s mother, who?d been shopping at the time, was unfortunately in the area.

Not being as discriminate as Argen?s Black Avril?s the Hawkbats and Volkiers just began attacking everybody in the area that didn?t wear their colours. Half a dozen people had been shot, beaten to death, or worse before the Authorities had arrived, another half dozen died after that. Argen himself, had been at home, preparing a meal to surprise his mother with, as he?d just gotten a job as a swoop courier for a local Hutt.

Beep.

It was his commlink, but he ignored it. Closing his eyes he tried to remember his mother?s wishes. Beep. He remembered she wanted to be cremated, to have her ashes sent to Iridonia and spread across one of the acid seas. Beep. They?d set aside some credits for it just in case, so Argen wouldn?t have to worry. He?d told her it was silly but...

Beep.

Sighing Argen pulled the commlink out of his pocket and put it to his ear. ?What??

---

[/color][color=#000000][b][/b][/color]
[color=#000000][b][/b][/color]
[link=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fza80vUHslc][color=#000099][i][u]Eight Minutes[/u][/i][/color][/link][color=#000000][i][/i][/color]
[color=#000000][i][/i][/color]
[color=#000000][i]~Eight minutes till realspace reversion~[/i][/color]
[color=#000000][i][/i][/color]
[color=#000000]Opening his eyes Argen realised he?d been dreaming. Rubbing his eyes with one hand he flipped an over head switch and unpolarized the viewport. The unforgiving swirling lights of hyperspace washed over him making him remember how bad an idea it was to look into the vortex before your eyes had adjusted. Spinning his chair away from the swirls he stood up and stretched.[/color]
[color=#000000][/color]
[color=#000000]?Eight minutes,? he repeated with a yawn as he stepped out of the cockpit, through the ?foyer?, and into the main cabin. ?That should be enough time.? Stepping over to the small autochef he started the caffa maker before

 

Striker
The Blue Mynok - Geonosis Orbit


Striker spoke to the The TL-1200 Transport, and then waited for a response. As she did, she gave a slow nod to Grim and Oakes. If this smelled wrong, she was outta there. A response didnt take long.

["Your reaction is understandable,"] the voice replied, ["But while we do know where to look, we still need help tracking down the salvage that we're seeking."] Striker smiled at this bit of news. TRACKING. As she gave a slow grin, the voice continued.

["We're transmitting some files to you now. What they are, exactly, are Imperial reports of personnel that have gone missing. In the beginning they were few and far between but the latest report, if you read it, shows that contact was lost with an entire squad of troopers only a couple of weeks ago. Looking over the reports, we have managed to deduce a general area of where the disappearances have taken place."]

Could be some left behind tech, giving them trouble... But wait, that could also mean that Imperials could show up, to find out what happened to their troopers.

Her ships computers lit up with a warning of incoming transmissions. She ran it through her systems viral scanners, not wanting to give someone access to her stuff. But this looked legit. Just info. She turned, and flicked a switch, looking at the transmission, and putting them up so the others could see it as well.

["Now,"] the voice continued, ["our interest in this is very simple. As you may know, Geonosis was a center of numerous conflicts in the Clone Wars due to the fact that it had possessed numerous droid and weapon production facilities built for the Separatists. Despite the Old Republic having kept tight control after the First Battle of Geonosis, the Geonosians managed to wrest control and resume operations with a massive foundry that was later destroyed when clone forces assaulted the planet. To put it simply, we're hoping that these disappearances are signs of another Geonosian group that is still fighting back."]

As the other side went silent for a moment, Striker stared at the info, and then the others, as her fingers hit the mute button. "REBELS?" she asked aloud. Why in frag to we want to FIND Genosians? The voice continued.

["What we're hoping is to actually come into contact with this group. Knowing of the Geonosians and their technical genius, couple that with their hate for the Empire, I'm hoping that we may be able to uncover some salvage or technical information that they might be willing to share or donate. Course, we have to find them and if they don't want to find us, we need some more people to help with a search for them or the salvage."]

Another pause.

["I promise that your contributions will be rewarded greatly if we do find anything. The people that I work for will be very much appreciative for any kind of salvage that we can locate."]

"I bet.. she said softly. She looked towards the others, and then unmuted her signal.

"Soooo. Let me see if I got this right, TL. You want us to go down to the planet, which has an Imperial base somewhere down there. Waltz in, and see if we can find some tech, or better yet, some REALLY ticked off Geonosians, who may or may not have been busy killing off the soldiers, and anything else moving down there. And then you want us to bring it back to you guys. Oh, and let's not forget the fact that there still might be some Imperials around, and that there may or may not be a ship coming around to find out what happened to 'em. Got that right so far?" She paused. "Oh, and we'll be greatly rewarded."

Striker paused.

"Hang on a sec. Gimme a sec to review the offer." She quickly slapped the mute switch back on, and then looked back at Grim and Oakes.

"Well boys? How you feeling about that 'offer'?" She gave them a grin. "Is it just my imagination, or what, but I swear they reminding me of something else..."

Striker thought to herself. Could these guys be rebels? They kind talked like it. And mentioning rewards instead of price...

 

IC: Grim
Aboard the Blue Mynok, In orbit - Geonosis


Hmmm. Curious. He wasn't getting anything conclusive from his 'extra sensory' abilities. He still didn't trust the situation, but for the moment, they didn't seem to be in any immediate danger.

"Grim, what do you think?" He heard Oakes request for his opinion, which caused him to open his eyes.

Yes, betrayal was a fickle thing, he thought in agreement, but verbally, his response was not too dissimilar.

"I agree with your situational assessment, Romeyn." he affirmed with a nod towards the farmer.

"And I'm glad you're not the type to shoot first, else we would've never turned into the fine crew that we are now."

Grim gave the man a sly wink, then quickly turned to checked on sensors scans.

"So far the TL transport has made no attempt to engage us and there are no active weapon signatures from their ship. They seem to be keeping geo-synchronous orbit over Geonosis for the time being."

Grim smiled as he listened to Striker get though with their contact.

"There was no mention of the job having a leash attached. If you know EXACTLY where to go, then YOU go get it. What do you need us for? I'm not playing fodder, just so you can follow us, and scoop up our hard earnings."

Grim looked on and gave a slow nod of approval.

"Whats the chit of this job?" Striker asked pointedly.

There was a pause, but their contact aboard the TL Transport did not delay too long in responding. Grim did notice that he never gave a name, but did keep in mind that he mentioned 'our advertisement', which meant he needed to look at Striker's copy of the document with greater detail.

"Your reaction is understandable," the voice continued, "But while we do know where to look, we still need help tracking down the salvage that we're seeking."

Their contact stated that he was transmitting files. Imperial reports.

Grim narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

Once Striker accepted the forwarded data, Grim was able to access it as well. He put it on his screen so Romeyn could see it also. As he looked over at the reports, he listened to their contact speak. If these reports were fake, he would be hard-pressed to tell the difference. Grim frowned in distaste once he heard of Imperial involvement. Sooner or later they would come to investigate the cause of their missing troopers. But not to his surprise, their contact had no interest in the troopers themselves, but postulated a cause for their disappearance.

"...To put it simply, we're hoping that these disappearances are signs of another Geonosian group that is still fighting back."

There was a pause. Grim looked to both Striker and Oakes. It was clear now that this job was not just about 'salvage' after all. After a short moment, the man continued.

"What we're hoping is to actually come into contact with this group. Knowing of the Geonosians and their technical genius, couple that with their hate for the Empire, I'm hoping that we may be able to uncover some salvage or technical information that they might be willing to share or donate. Course, we have to find them and if they don't want to find us, we need some more people to help with a search for them or the salvage."

Grim had his misgivings about this job already. They were not diplomats or ambassadors. If these "Geonosians" could make an entire squad of armed stormtroopers disappear, what hope had the three of them? FRom the look in the eyes of his crew mates, he could pretty much see that they were all thinking the same thing. Grim was about to voice his opinion, but was cut-off as their contact spoke once again.

"I promise that your contributions will be rewarded greatly if we do find anything. The people that I work for will be very much appreciative for any kind of salvage that we can locate."

Before anyone else spoke, Striker reacted to the offer. Grim couldn't help but be greatly amused by her reaction. She had a knack for interpreting the reality of things. She then paused and hit the mute button.

"Well boys? How you feeling abou

 

Kev-Mas Colcha
With Kahn_Iceay as Sergeant Vosk
Imperial I-class Star Destroyer Redacted
Imperial Fleet Rendezvous Point

Eternal Wait

After his men had filed off to their barracks to gather their equipment Kev-Mas directed his attention at his ship. Raising his left hand he gave a subtle wave, locking mechanisms unlatched with the slightest tug from the force and the ships ramp lowered of its own volition.

Marching up the ramp he gave another wave and the ramp quickly raised up and locked back in position. Turning right he stepped onto the small lift, and a moment later stepped out onto the small flight deck. Securing his pike in its recharge alcove he took his seat at the controls and began the ships start up sequence.

A low hum filled the cockpit as the ship began to vibrate ever so slightly. Crimson indicator lights flicked on as the craft?s four power generators came to life and its X-C2 Ion Array began to warm. Kev-Mas? cybernetic eyes watched the power feeds come to life as energy was fed to the shields, hyperdrive, and weapons.

Within moments the modified Star Courier was alive and ready to draw blood, much like its pilot. Checking the Messenger?s sensors he learned that they had arrived at the rendezvous point. ?Again I have yet to be informed of significant events,? the Shadow Guard mused to himself as he felt the Star Destroyer again accelerate into hyperspace.

Sensors blinded by the swirl of hyperspace Kev-Mas flipped them into stand-by and for a moment closed his eyes. Things were moving far too slowly for his liking. An important, and top-secret, Imperial fortification was being assaulted by rebels and a Jedi and the fleet was moving at a Hutts pace. This could not stand.

Flipping the communications console on, the Shadow Guard patched a line to the squad leader of his personal Shadow Stormtrooper squad. ?Sergeant Vosk. Am I safe in assuming that you are almost ready for deployment??

Brinlon looked up from his E-11 rifle when he heard the communication come through on his helmet beside him. Lifting the dark headpiece up he put it on and quickly pressed his chin down on the comm plate. ?Affirmative Commander,? he replied as he slid a clip of heavy pulse ammo into the rifle. ?We are in the final stages of procuring Anti-Jedi ammunition for the mission.?

?Good,? Kev-Mas replied, ?When that is done, meet me at the Shadow Messenger.?

?Acknowledged Commander, expect us shortly. Vosk over and out.? Cutting the signal Vosk stood up and slung his E-11 over his shoulders. ?Ok snowflakes, the Commander wants us on station in ten minutes, I expect us to be there in five.? The five other Shadow Stormtroopers quickly acknowledged with an echoing ?Sir!? before grabbing their gear and securing it.

Lifting his SE-14r from the bench he checked that it had a full charge before holstering it, giving the men a few extra seconds before looking them over. ?Good,? he thrust a hand to the barracks door. ?Single file move out!? With another ?Sir!? the troopers filed out of the room and on towards the hangar.

Tag: Imperials, Sarge

 

Aubrey Daviau
Corellian Orbit, Shipyards, Aboard the Imperial DP20

Aubrey closed her eyes. Everyone had turned to look at her. This was turning into a disaster. She took a step back, and turned around, whispering, ?Son of a Hutt.?

The transmission light continued blinking, seeming to grow angrier in Aubrey?s desperation. If it went unanswered much longer, then someone would come looking. Aubrey pointed her pistol back at the technician, aiming at his chest. She said, ?Well, answer it.?

Tag: Sarge

 

Sarge221 Approved

Name: James Tesla
Age: 37
Race: Human
Homeworld: Corellia
Personality: Witty and Charming
Appearance:
[image=http://www.sunglassesid.com/images/sunglasses/Ray-Ban-3025-Bradley-Cooper-big.jpg]
Suits and fine shoes.
Profession: Domestic Terrorist, shock boxer, and former ship mechanic
Weapons: SSK-7 Heavy blaster pistol, X-45 Sniper Rifle, and electric gauntlets.
Brief History: James was born on Corellia. At 15 he became a mechanic and at 21 joined CorSec until 25. James became a domestic terrorist during his time at CorSec. He doesn't necessarily hate the Empire, but it just happens to exist and he takes out his frustration on it. He targets imperial leaders, ships, and anything/anyone that has ties to the empire. James doesn't have a strong agenda that he is trying to push and he is not a religious fanatic, but he does like explosions and fighting oppression. The fact that he is a public threat is not widely known, which allows him to continue his shockboxing career. He has a strong hatred of people who wear masks and/or helmets that cover their face is a sunglasses enthusiast.

 

Naboo
Theed Palace

Having grown increasingly disturbed by continued exposure of the dirty, murderous rabble of the bounty hunters and hired guns before him, Harlin was happy to take the call about something at the palace doors. Praying that it wasn't yet another hired gun, the captain of the Queen's Royal Guards quietly excused himself from the meeting room and went to the doors to admit entrance to-

Frak it, Harlin mentally cursed upon spotting the Zabrak flanked by a pair of stormtroopers. Another one.

Aloud, he spoke, "Welcome to the palace." He was trying to at least appear sincere and polite. "May I inquire about your business here? I can only assume that you've answered the call for some hired help about the Gungans-"

A sudden loud - seemingly pleased sounding - hiss broke off whatever the captain was going to say next, causing him to whirl around at the noise. Just in time as the Trandoshan that had apparently followed after him shouldered his way past the human in order to peer at the Zabrak and the airspeeder behind him that held the crates of merchandise.

"You've arrived!" the Trandoshan hissed, looking from the crates to the Argen. "Gurlog, yes? My contact had spoken of a Zabrak delivering my order." Off to the side, Harlin was giving the alien a questioning look which must've been noticed as the Trandoshan suddenly barked out a laugh. "Can't go frog hunting without the right tools, yes? I requested an order of flamethrowers as soon as I got the details of the job. Speaking of which..."

The Trandoshan looked back at the Zabrak. "How about it? The Imperials need these amphibians taken care of. An easy hunt for an easy payoff I think. I do not mind sharing in the hunt; you could even put one of those flamethrowers that you've so graciously delivered to use if you wish with how fast you brought them here."

TAG: Kahn_Iceay



Corellian Orbit
Shipyards, Imperial DP20 Bridge

As he was ordered by his captors, the technician immediately went to the console, opening up communications with central control of the shipyards. "Um...yes?" Even with those two words, it was easy to tell that the technician was sounding quite distressed.

"Central control here," a voice replied over the comm channel. "We're detecting unusual readings and other anomalies over by the DP20 Frigate that you're currently stationed on. Are you experiencing any problems?"

"Um..." The technician glanced over at Aubrey and her crew and, figuring that thieves didn't want any attention - as these were thieves certainly -, he hastened for an excuse which he now voiced. "Uh, everything's under control. Systems...uh..normal."

Seeming to detect the obvious distress, however, the voice continued, "You don't sound normal. What happened?"

"Uh..." The technician paused, visibly shaking as he sought to come up with an excuse. "Uh, we just had a slight weapons malfunction. But uh...everything's perfectly all right now."

"Weapons malfunction?"

"Yes! Um...just a minor problem with the self-targeting software for the frigate's armaments. We're fine. We're all fine now, thank you. ...How are you?"

"We're all fine?"

"Me and the droids!" the technician quickly corrected. "Just me and the droids. We're all fine here. We're all just doing a normal systems check."

"Uh huh..." A pause. "What's your name?"

"Roland Adams," the technician replied. "I'm the technician that's assigned to run the systems check on the frigate."

Another pause, no doubt the voice busy trying to verify the claim. "So you are. Would you like me to send a team over?"

"Uh, negative, negative. Like I said, we're fine here. Just need to verify that the glitches have been taken care of and the ship should be good to go."

A third, longer pause. "...Alright then. Carry on."

The comm was clicked off and the technician - Roland -, who was sweating bullets and couldn't seem to stop shaking, turned back to Aubrey and the group and offered - of all things - a sheepish smile.

TAG: NickLitYouAFlame

 

Argen Devalie
Theed, Palace

The man who opened the Palace doors, his face spoke volumes. The moment he laid eyes on Argen his face shifted from one of relief to one of discontent. ?Whats the matter?? Argen asked as he made a motion with his left hand, feigning the human standard of running a hand over their hair, ?My horns out of place??

Before he could answer though Argen heard a loud hiss from deeper inside, a sound that soon revealed itself to belong to a large and rather pleased looking Trandoshan. The reptile took a long look at Argen then the cargo crates before erupting into what could only be described as a ?subtle? show of excitement.

He went on to explain that he had ordered the shipment from Gurlog, at whose mentioning Argen nodded in confirmation. He then went to ?detail? out to the suit who had greeted him that he?d ordered the flame throwers to help hunt some frogs?. Argen raised an eyebrow at this but let the man continue.

When he was done the Trandoshan looked back at Argen. "How about it? The Imperials need these amphibians taken care of. An easy hunt for an easy payoff I think. I do not mind sharing in the hunt; you could even put one of those flamethrowers that you've so graciously delivered to use if you wish with how fast you brought them here."

Argen lowered his eye brow and thought about it for a moment. 1. He needed something to do for a few days. 2. It sounded easy enough, walk around wave about a flamethrower, scare some Gungans straight. 3. He could always use some extra credits to fill his pockets. And 4. Free swag.

Shrugging slightly the Zabrak nodded at the Trandoshan. ?Bounty Hunting, ?least on a big scale, ?s not my sorta thing normally. Don?t see why I can?t tag along though, couldn?t hurt, ?sides I don?t have any jobs lined up for the moment. So sure.? With another shrug Argen extended a hand to the Trandoshan. ?Names Argen by the way, Argen Devalie.?

Tag: Sarge, Ramza?

 

IC: Romeyn Oakes
Geonosis Orbit-The Blue Mynock

"I agree with your situational assessment, Romeyn." he affirmed with a nod towards the farmer.

"And I'm glad you're not the type to shoot first, else we would've never turned into the fine crew that we are now."

Romeyn nodded thoughtfully at the compliment as Grim continued.

"So far the TL transport has made no attempt to engage us and there are no active weapon signatures from their ship. They seem to be keeping geo-synchronous orbit over Geonosis for the time being."

For the time being. That could all change in a matter of seconds. Many things can hide in the orbital rings of Geonosis, many terrifying things indeed. What may seem like a level playing field now could turn into a real frak fest later. Romeyn thought as he listened to the banter between the Captain of the TL transport and Striker.

"There was no mention of the job having a leash attached. If you know EXACTLY where to go, then YOU go get it. What do you need us for? I'm not playing fodder, just so you can follow us, and scoop up our hard earnings."

"Whats the chit of this job?" Striker asked pointedly.

"Your reaction is understandable," the voice continued, "But while we do know where to look, we still need help tracking down the salvage that we're seeking."

A transmission was received and then the Imperial files were flooding screens all around him. Kindly, Romeyn watched as Grim made the information accessible to him. His eyes quickly dissecting the data and amplifying the growing knot in the rancher that something foul was afoot. Something he couldn't put his finger on. And still the Empire was involved.

Anyone who knew anything about the Empire knew that Imperial stormtroopers, highly trained minions of the bureaucratic war machine, were no laughing matter. Everyone on Roon and throughout the generational element that filled the age gap Romeyn Oakes found himself in had heard of the stormtroopers terrible accuracy. But few people lived to tell the tales, so they couldn't be that bad of shots. Fewer still that publicly boasted of courageous attacks on the white armored soldiers, fear had a way of doing that to a people. Nobody wanted a patrol knocking on their homestead. It was an encounter that gave Romeyn the shivers.

Fear. Kept beings quiet, kept them in order and it was common knowledge that Imperial stormtroopers won on the field of battle because of their brutality and unwavering devotion to their cause. Charisma was a hell of a motivator.

The banter from the TL transport shattered Oakes' reverie on the Empire, on life, on the people back home he loved the most.

"...To put it simply, we're hoping that these disappearances are signs of another Geonosian group that is still fighting back."

"What we're hoping is to actually come into contact with this group. Knowing of the Geonosians and their technical genius, couple that with their hate for the Empire, I'm hoping that we may be able to uncover some salvage or technical information that they might be willing to share or donate. Course, we have to find them and if they don't want to find us, we need some more people to help with a search for them or the salvage."

"I promise that your contributions will be rewarded greatly if we do find anything. The people that I work for will be very much appreciative for any kind of salvage that we can locate."

Romeyn bit his tongue as Striker fired off a response typical of her charming personality. Frankly, he admired her for speaking up and out of the corner of his eye he saw Grim deep in concentration. This wasn't a walk in the park. This was for real and if they screwed up, well, one of them might not be coming back alive. And that wouldn't be very responsible of him if he let Striker and Grim die now would it?

"Well boys? How you feeling about that 'offer'?" She gave them a grin. "Is it just my imagination, or what, but I swear they reminding me of something else..."

"I don't like it one bit," Romeyn admitted. He

 

Aubrey Daviau
Corellian Orbit, Shipyards, Aboard the Imperial DP20

Aubrey?s heart was pounding throughout the exchange between the technician and the Central Control communications officer. When the officer was finally satisfied with Roland?s account and had closed the channel, Aubrey breathed a sigh of relief. Roland smiled nervously, but looked pleased with his performance. Aubrey closed her eyes for a moment, and then conceded, ?That was good enough. Now, I?d really like to finish my job. Complete the systems check. Tia will assist you. And, tell my mechanics about anything else that will hinder our escape.?

Aubrey turned to Ruuj, Damian and Jemargh, next. Biting the corner of her mouth, she said, ?You might as well cover the doors. We shouldn?t see any security teams, but better safe than sorry, obviously.?

Aubrey shook her head, and walked out to the hall where Ralil was still kneeling beside the astromech droid that they had disable. The Verpine and the LE-series repair droid were both looking over Aubrey?s datapad, hard at work. With a little exasperation in her voice, Aubrey asked, ?How is that droid coming??

Tag: Sarge

 

Striker
Aboard the Blue Mynok, In orbit - Geonosis

Well boys? How you feeling about that 'offer'?" She gave them a grin.
Striker looked at the guys, waiting to hear their opinions.

Grim whispered low, so only Striker and Oakes could hear.

"They want a lot more than salvage from us. This is riskier than what was stated. I say double our basic fee, and raise the salvage pay-out by 15%....that is, if we agree to go. Any sign of big trouble, we high-tail it out of there. Contact or no contact. I'm good with majority vote. I'm in if they agree to our terms."

Looking to both his crew mates, Grim waited to hear what they had to say.

"I don't like it one bit," Romeyn admitted.

Romeyn rested his frame against the sturdy bulkhead of the Skipray Blastboat known as the Blue Mynock and sighed. Striker turned to look towards him.

"I'll be honest, Captain. The Empire is going to come screaming into this system once the patrols fail to report in on a more consistent basis. Attacks like these don't go away. They increase into somebody has to do something about it. Maybe they'll let it slide once, twice, three times, but sooner or later, somebody pushing datapads somewhere is going to notice that they've had to send an awful lot of their finest to this backwater planet and with little return investment."

Striker nodded at his assessment.

"As for the salvage? All three of us know that Geonosians aren't just going to donate their technical information to us without something special in return. I'm talking real special. Those boys on the transport ship may be using ideology as a motivating factor for the bug eyes down there, pardon the prejudice, but that only goes so far. Geonosians built some nice material during the war, I highly doubt we've got anything that will interest them. They wiped out an Imperial patrol for crying out loud. That isn't easy, despite what popular opinion might suggest."

Romeyn looked disgusted. Deffinately not what they had expected.

"Grim's assessment is dead on. We raise our fees. Just tell them enough to show them that we're interested. But believe me, I find it hard to be dying for a piece of scrap metal. There better be something good down there because stepping into a nest of angry Geonosians is not my idea of a fun day. Now, friends, you've got my support. I say we do this mission. But we do it smart, we do it our way. Only then will we come back alive. What do you say, Captain?"

Striker gave a deep sigh. Thats the problem with picking up folks. You become responsible to them. Both Grim and Oakes looked at Striker for a decision. She twirled her fingers for a moment, frowning as she heard the options.

"Oakes I agree with you. We dont have anything to offer if they want to trade. BUT" ... Striker raised her fingers. "After you have been karfed over by the Empire, its amazing how willing some folks are to work with you, just so they can get back at an enemy. Common enemy and all that. And they told us a lot more than most would. But I agree. We came out looking for a salvage, not a meet and greet. So we're changing the plans."

Stiker turned, and flicked the mute switch.

["Tell you what TL. See, what we got here, is a bit of misunderstanding. You negotiated for a find and seek. And thats good, cause thats what we're best at. But once we get to the party, you trying to slide in a bit of a meet 'n greet, with some folks, who your not to sure REALLY want to meet with anyone. You cant pay enough for that. We're not ambassadors. So, we say you double our fee, and we'll go down and find you what ever tech we come across. And if there IS someone down there, we'll leave em your note. Cause we figure that we have a very limited window of opportunity, before a Imperial ship comes crusing our way, to find out what happened to their men."] Stiker paused. She then smiled.

["So, if you can monitor the hyperspace lanes, and give us warning, all well and good. You get what we find, and we get paid. If not, we take what we find, and find so

 

IC: Grim
Aboard the Blue Mynok, In orbit - Geonosis

Well, it did seem that everyone was in agreement. Grim gave Striker a thumbs up as she delivered their decision to their contact aboard the LT Transport. Mentally, he was impressed with Oakes and his skill at reading a situation. More than just a farmer, that one. It was conceivable that he wasn't around cattle all his life. It was good to count such a man as a comrade.

After delivering her message, Striker hit the mute button once more, and looked over at Oakes and Grims with a grin. "Let's just see how desperate they are to find out what's down there. I'm not sacrificing anyone for creds, don't care HOW much they're offering." Striker told the pair with a nod.

Grim returned the nod, then got to thinking for a moment.

Hmm......

"Captain...." he said, pausing only a moment to further put his thoughts into words. He glanced over at Romeyn, and nodded at the man to let him know that his words were for him as well.

"Should we encounter the Geonosians, we know more or less what our agenda with them is. But what happens if we encounter Imperial Stormtroopers?"

Grim raised the eyebrow over his grey eye questioningly and looked over to both his crew mates, hoping to hear their opinions. Internally, he mused on his own reaction, already knowing that it would be best if he did not run into any of them at all. He very much doubted that his reaction would be a good one...and possibly a detrimental one.

Tag: Ktala, Liam

 

IC: Liesl Bridehead
Boss Scaggs' Hangar, Issagra Station

"I hadn't thought it possible but you are very talented, you have saved me valuable time...time I otherwise would not have. Here is your fee, plus some extra, you more than earned it," Culain said as he closed Liesl's hand around a bunch of credit chips. He dropped his voice. "It would be dangerous for you if people found out I had been here, keep it close to your chest." Culain turned to leave, but paused for one last thing. "May the Force be with you Leisl."

It wasn't every day you heard that on Issagra Station--or most anywhere in the galaxy these days for that matter.

"Yeah, you too," Liesl said as Culain boarded his ship. When Culain was out of sight she uncurled her hand and looked at the credits there.

She nearly dropped them in surprise.

240 Imperial credits.

Two hundred and forty credits. A full hundred more than she'd quoted him. She had already doubled her labor fees for the rush work and he had paid her an extra hundred over that. This was more than Liesl had made during her entire stay on Issagra. It was more than she'd made on any single job ever. This was hitting the jackpot.

Liesl was moving through a lot of emotions very quickly. First shock, then disbelief, then joy--and then a cold hand that squeezed her heart. Ordinary beings didn't pay this sort of money, no matter what hurry they were in. No, beings who had things to worry about were the only sort to pay this much. People with a lot to worry about. Culain had even said as much. His words echoed back to her.

"It would be dangerous for you if people found out I had been here, keep it close to your chest."

Frak, Liesl thought. She hurried over to Scaggs' office and began rifling through files on the terminal. She had to make sure that there was no trace of this ship ever having come in here. She had been the only one on shift when Culain had brought it in, but that didn't mean it didn't get automatically recorded. Liesl was feverishly flipping through the landing manifest, double, triple checking everything.

Nothing. No trace. Liesl breathed a sigh of relief. There was only one loose end.

Liesl left the office and went over to the droid that she'd engaged to clean the exterior, who was in low power mode along the wall. Liesl tapped its head to rouse him from his electronic slumber.

"Hey buddy," Liesl said, "Just so we're clear, that ship was never here tonight? Got it?"

Bweooo.

"Right on," Liesl said with a smile.

The mechanic left the hangar. She had some overdue business to take care of now...

Tag: No one for the moment

 

IC: Zenie ?Covy? Covell

Covy excused herself from the company of the female trooper and left the gym. She was walking through the corridors to the mess hall when her datapad chirped. She pulled it out of her leg pocket while stepping to the side of the corridor so as not to impede the traffic of people trying to get around the ship.

Report to your ship immediately. This is not a drill. Repeat: Report to your ship immediately.

Covy tucked the datapad into her pocket and took off at a run, bumping into some officers but not stopping to apologize as she worked her way to the hanger. Upon arriving she went to her locker and pulled out her flightsuit. She quickly tugged off her clothes and pulled the suit on. She snagged her helmet from its perch on the shelf at the top of her locker and left the room into the hanger large enough to fit four squadrons of TIE's. She ran across to where Zeta Squadron, affectionately called BowTIE squadron by many aboard the Star Destroyer, was stationed. The lift carried her to the scaffolding walkway that would take her to her ship. She tossed a cocky smile at the two squad mates who were with her on the lift before bounding excitedly down the walkway.

"Lt. Covy reporting for duty!" She slid to a stop in front of her commander and saluted.

With barely a nod in her direction the commander pointed in the direction of the ships and said "Load up and be ready to launch hot."

Launching hot was code for coming out with lasers blazing. This might actually be serious. Covy suited words to action and slipped her helmet on her head before practically sliding down the ladder into her ship. She tripled checked the seal between her helmet and suit and made sure her life support was properly working. It would not be good for her to launch without being able to breathe. Years of discipline had been drilled into her to triple check the system. She gave a thumbs up to the tech who stood waiting to lock her into her ship before dropping down into the cockpit.

"BowTIE 9 all lit and ready to go. Three Flight on me when we launch. We're going out hot and we're all coming back!"

A chorus of affirmatives responded to her call and with that they awaited the signal to launch.

Tag: Sarge

 

~GM Approved~

Name: Adin Vrinn
Species: Mirialan/Human Cyborg
Planet of Birth: Taanab
Gender: Male
Age: 31 years old
Appearance: [image=http://i101.photobucket.com/albums/m54/Dinkus_Mayhem/Star%20Wars/Cyborg_by_mojette.jpg]

Wears a suit of black Imperial Storm Trooper armor much in the same fashion that General Obi-Wan Kenobi wore during the clone wars, the only variation would be the color. Instead of white armor with black trim and a brown tunic, Adin's armor is solid black with a dark maroon zeyd-cloth tunic and a dark maroon zeyd-cloth hooded cape.

Rank & Affiliation: Empire, Imperial Intelligence, Chief Inquisitor

The Force: Yes, but as stated within the equipment section he is unable to utilize any telepathic (including mind control) or lightning based abilities. He is however able to utilize the force and his cybernetic implants to connect with and control many technologies, in many cases even if encrypted.

Skills: Robotics, investigation, tracking and information gathering, torture.

Weapons: Dual phase lightsaber (red bladed) that could go from the standard 1.3 meters to a length of three meters with the flick of a switch. DH-17, standard-issue military sidearm.

Equipment: Cybernetic Aj^6 internal computer implant (increasing his mental capacities, and allowing him to access many computer systems. Due to the need for this implant, he is incapable of utilizing any telepathic powers usually available to other adepts), SoroSuub cybernetic eyes (allowing him to see in various environmental conditions), NeuroSaav Cardio-Muscular Package (increasing his physical strength and stamina)

*Note: Being heavily enhanced/altered with cybernetics, Adin Vrinn is sensitive to massive electrical discharge and powerful EMP attacks. He has tried to shield his implants as best as possible, but his success has been minimal and the danger remains. He is also incapable of using Force Lightning without seriously damaging his own body.

Bio: Adin was born to a wealthy smuggling family based on Tanaab, his father (Absalom) was Mirialan and his mother (Caitlin) a Human, and in addition to being a successful smuggler his father was also a skilled Dark Jedi wielder?though he never received formal training.

Adin was raised in his fathers footsteps. He learned to fly at a young age, as well as how to use a blaster and hack security systems. His father also trained him as best he could to utilize the Force, even going as far as acquiring materials to help his son become as skilled as possible. He realized, as did Adin, that their self imposed training would set them apart and give them an edge over any competitors?or for that matter governments who would seek to prevent their activities.

This assumption proved to be wrong however, Adin and his Father could never have guessed that they would become the target of an Inquisitorius investigation. Having reason to suspect that former Jedi were potentially involved in smuggling ring the Inquisitors were dispatched and lured the Father and Son into a well laid trap in which Absalom was killed and Adin horribly injured.

That was in the year 16 BBY, just 3 years after the creation of the Inquisitorius, having a desire to expand the new elite Intelligence division and being in need of skilled recruit?s the Empire dedicated resources to ensuring Adin?s survival?though the process would leave him altered forever.

He became a cyborg, altered beyond recognition, though enhanced past normal human standards. He also received training that made what he knew of the Force look like childs play, and after a long and grueling period of trials and evaluation he was accepted as an Inquisitor.

That was 11 years ago, now Chief Inquisitor Vrinn

 

IC: Culain Macshael
Issagra station

It had been only been a couple of hours since he'd had his ship repaired, and had moved it to a small pad near the entertainment district. From there he had found his way to the Scoundrels corner cantina to meet an old friend in the hopes he could direct the weary Jedi to another safe haven and provide him with more credits. After an hour spent in low conversation in one of the cantinas more private booths he'd decided on a risky but hopefully fruitful course of action, with that he had bid farewell to his friend and with a fresh supply of credits stalked off into the perma-night of Issagra station. After negotiating his way through the teeming throngs of the entertainment district he turned the final corner to his landing pad and stopped dead, sliding deeper into the shadows his eyes narrowed at what he saw, five beings stood reguarding his ship, their too clean clothing and the formation they were standing in marked out who they were...imperials. Culain silently unclipped his saber from his belt as he started forward, a shadow among shadows, some kind of hunter team, maybe intelligence or inquisitors he thought to himself.

As he reached the edge of the shadows he reach out to the force, and sprinted forward, his force augmented steps turning him into a black blur as he crossed the distance to his ship in a heartbeat. One of the imp's turned nd gasped bringing his blaster up, just as he was about to fire the blue blade of Culains saber cut the weapon in half and half a heartbeat later removed the mans head. The others turned and desperately began fireing at the Jedi, Culain spun into the guard of one, using him as a shield even as his blade appeared from the middle of the mans back. as he fell with a silent gasp Culain flowed towards the remaining three, his blade a coruscating blur as he deflected their fire away from him, he glided through them body and blade moving as one, a spinning blur that removed hands and legs even as he delivered the killing stroke. He spun horizontally into the air towards the last survivor, his blade slicing down the mans torso. The final body hit the ground with two dull thumps of finality, from start to finish the fight had lasted no more than seconds, but seconds were enough. Without a backwards glance Culain ran up his loading ramp and flicked the engines into life, He had to get out of there and fast, they wouldn't expect his next location to be right under their noses, with a grimace he tapped in his next co-ordinates...Alderaan

TAG: All

 

Striker
Aboard the Blue Mynok, In orbit - Geonosis

"Captain...."

Striker turned to look towards Grim. He paused a moment then continued to speak.

"Should we encounter the Geonosians, we know more or less what our agenda with them is. But what happens if we encounter Imperial Stormtroopers?"

Grim raised the eyebrow.

Stikers face turned dark, as she mused over his words for a moment. But her response didnt take long.

"Run."

She turned fully towards Grim. "I*m a good tracker. Those noisy bucket make a racket. I dont plan to get anywhere near em. But if they find us first, we run if we can. And if we cant, we mop the floor with them, and make sure none survive." She replied flatly.

"If they have base down there, and catch us... they wont take a 'we didnt know' very kindly. And Im not waiting going to find out."

Striker got up, a frown on her face. "I need some more caffa." she muttered, trying to push away a very strange feeling she had. It was a sensation she had not felt in a long time. Since she was little. She headed straight for the caffa, and poured herself a cup, listening for her radio for a response from the other ship.

Why was she feeling this way? Normally, running into troopers was just a minor pain, one she could get rid of by moving. But it was different now. She tapped her finger to the mug she was holding, as she waited for a response.



Tag: SARGE, Grey, Liam

 

Deep Space
Imperial I-class Star Destroyer Eversor

The trip was, fortunately, short, as the rendezvous point for the fleet had been relatively close to the location of the manufacturing facility known only as CT-01. The reigning admiral over the battle group had stood at the bridge the whole time, his hands behind his back, his chest seeming to jut out in order to further display the red and blue bars at his chest that signified his rank, while is eyes wandered over the bridge crew and the blue, hyperspace tunnel that his ship as well as the others currently traveled through. With the confidence that he seemed to outright display, you would think that he was expecting to fly right on through to the manufacturing facility whether there were hostiles in his way or not.

Secretly, however, he was worried. Not so much because of the presence of rebels - there were always rebels nowadays whether Imperial High Command wanted to admit it or not -, but because of their target and potential assets. There were the occasional raids and acts of sabotage nowadays but this is the first - at least in his experience - that a secret, Imperial operation had been compromised and outright taken over by hostile forces. And the suggestion that they may be Separatist holdouts was another disturbing factor as those forces were usually confined to the Outer Rim where Imperial policing and expansion forces continued to hunt and engage them. Was this an attempt by the Separatists to finally try and make their own strike closer to the heart of the Empire?

Or it could just be nerves. It hasn't even been a year since his promotion and he could just be jumping at ghosts, looking for the next big threat and hoping to solidify his reputation as the first of the next generation of Imperial Admirals.

But the promotion wasn't undeserved. The thought wasn't based on arrogance as it was simple fact: he had the skills and instinct that his superiors recognize as qualifications for his ranking. And that instinct was telling him that he best prepare for a fight.

It was coming to him now. At the warning from his navigations officer about reversion to real space, the Admiral braced himself as his battle group entered the system with his Eversor at the head. At his sides were the Redacted and Predator while Contrictor and Mutilator remained at the back with their supporting light cruisers. And at the front...

"A fight it is," the Admiral spoke aloud with raised eyebrows.

The acting-captain of the Redacted, Victoria Holt, would see the opposition the exact same time as the Admiral did. As weapons and shields were reported at full power and ready for combat, the sensors officer displayed the images of what lay ahead of them. There was CT-01 for starters, still in relatively one piece. One of the first of it's kind, the facility was primarily made up of a central hub that had four modules attached all around it with each one capable of constructing and storing whatever it was the Empire demanded of them. The design was such so that in case the facility was destroyed, the modules could split from the hub and keep their cargo intact until picked up.

With such an important facility, there had been defenses; the schematics had shown turbolaser turrets and warhead launchers that gave it some teeth. It was even outfitted with the latest anti-warhead defensive system, allowing the station to easily shoot down incoming ordnance. And there had no doubt been patrolling craft that kept security tight throughout the entire space.

But even with those precautions, the station couldn't possibly handle the force that was now being relayed.

"Sensors detect over half a dozen ships," the officer spoke to Holt. "Scanners and visuals identify three Munificent-class star frigates, four Trade Federation missile frigates, and...the last is a Bulwark-class battlecruiser."

The Munificents were nothing special. Having made up t

 

OOC: Heads up, this is (literally) a bit steamy, but I believe allowable based on my reading of the rules in the RPR. I don't think anyone would be offended since I feel it's rather mild, but maybe you'll read it differently.

IC: Liesl Bridehead
Avian Nest Boarding Quarters, Issagra Station

"Yes. Oh yes."

Liesl was a prudent spender. Today had been the exception to the rule. People did not put 240 credits into her hand on a daily basis. Oh no, not at all. Truth be told, there were days when even someone of her talents couldn't get work. Therefore it just didn't do to go blowing all of one's money on one night of revelry. It also meant that one had to do without the finer things in life. Even so, there was one things that Liesl insisted on, that she just couldn't do without:

A hot sanisteam.

If you were traveling the galaxy on the cheap, a private refresher was not always a standard amenity. The very first place off of Agamar that Liesl had gone to had been that way. Ever since then, even if there was one place on planet that had private sanisteams for each room, Liesl found it and got a room there. Sometimes the cost meant she didn't stay any place for too long, but she enjoyed a long, hot shower way too much to give it up. Heck, she'd even learned just enough plumbing so that she would occasionally fix a ship's sanisteam--which she then had to test, just to make sure everything was working right.

This one felt especially good. She'd worked a long shift and that meant that she was naturally covered in more grease and grime than usual. To feel it all sliding off her golden skin was nothing short of euphoric. She ran her hands through her hair, shampooing the oil out. When she finished she'd dry it out, bringing out a luster and shine that never lasted but looked very fine while it did. Even though Liesl's jumpsuits collected most of the grease and grime of her work, the only way that she could feel clean was simply to do a full body wash. No part of Liesl escaped soap and water.

It was moments like this that made Liesl sure that there were some jobs she just couldn't take. Sure, she'd heard talk that on the black market there were plenty of good jobs for people willing to compromise on certain moral points, but she'd seen the mechanics who worked those jobs. They were always so dirty, so grimy. And yet supposedly they made so much money...you'd think that they could afford a good sanisteam at least once in a while.

Then again, if the straight and narrow always had a hot shower at the end of it, Liesl would walk that line every time.

"Oh yes."

Tag: Nobody, but getting there