Star Wars OPEN Star Wars: Black Sheep: Tales from the Squadron (Always Accepting New Players!)

GM APPROVED!
Secondary Character Application:

Character's Name: Pudge

Callsign: None

Species: Whiphid

Gender: Male

Rank/Affiliation: Cook

Languages: Basic and Whiphid

Residence: The Intrepid’s Kitchens

Home Planet: Toola

Age: 69

Approved Special Features (any force sensitivity would go here ): N/A


Character Traits:


Personality: Grouchy, cantankerous, and the apotheosis of a no-nonsense frontier cook. Pudge is blunt and honest to a fault; he tells the truth as it is and doesn’t sugar coat serious matters. However, he does have a sociable heart hidden deep and can be compassionate to those that are dealing with starvation or other horrible atrocities by the Empire’s machinations. Although this has also led him to have a deep contempt for those who act wasteful with food, the Whiphid is not afraid to aggressively callout those who toss out his work out of distaste, generally he hates tossing of needed nutrition.


Habits/Mannerisms: Smokes a Marcan pipe when relaxing in the kitchens. Has a slight tendency to nickname those he meets, giving them one based on how well they treat the furry coot.


Likes: Cooking, Hunting, Smoking Spaces, Arm Wrestling, and giving the Imps a good what for!

Dislikes: Wastefulness, Imperials, Partisans, Hypocrisy, and those who ask him to do “fine dining”

Racial Traits: Wooly fur and thick blubber has provided generous protection against wintery elements. Also, has a long lifespan of 249 standard years, granting a good amount of time to hone his skills.


Strengths and Weaknesses:


Physical Strengths and Weaknesses: Has a well-honed musculature from hunting wild beasts like the Ravinak or MotMot or Mudhorn; the furry cook has gained a strength not quite on the level of species like the Houk or Wookie but he’s strong enough to hunt massive prey. However, the Whiphid’s durability is rather moot, the old cook can be brought down by regular blaster bolts or stun shots.

Mental Strengths and Weaknesses: Pudge is a skilled cook, hunter, and forager in environments where their is low supplies. He can manage whipping up a dish on low-quality or alien ingredients. But due to this rather selective choice of skills, Pudge has zero to no formal training as a pilot or combatant, and prefers to be ignorant towards what he derisively calls “fine dining”.


Emotional Strengths and Weaknesses: When concocting a meal in the mess kitchens, hunting a reek on the plains, or dealing out cuisine to POWs; Pudge remains professional in his role as a military chef. The furry cook keeps a sharp tough head on his job and ignores all complaints when working, even if it’s from a rival commander or higher member of the Alliance. Sadly, this mindset has not won him any social favors with the others in his prior work with an unnamed Rebel cell.


Looks:

Appearance: Pudge is a male Whiphid with a stout, muscular frame befitting his nomadic species. For garments, he wears a nerf-hide bandolier when out hunting; and a stained green apron when cooking in the mess.

Picture: N/A


Eye Color: Grey

Hair/Fur: Golden Brown (Like a Twinkie!)

Skin Color: Cream

Clothing: Bandolier and Green Apron. (very minimalist.)


Personal History:

Immediate Family: Unnamed Tribe

Spouse/Children:None

Biography:

Pudge’s childhood is a mystery, from what some veterans of his time could recount was that the Whiphid grew up in one of the dozen nomadic tribes on Toola years before the Battle of Naboo. He joined the Republic armed forces afte the finishing of the first conflict on Geonosis; serving out of some form of respect for the military that saved him from slavery years back, though what incident they saved him from is only known to certain vets at this point. Applied as the resident cook and scrounger for any designated unti he was assigned to, Pudge made great use of his skills as a former hunter gatherer to bring back meals on harsh terrain. Many of the clones he served with had noted that his meals were greasy in taste but were built to keep them sated for long periods of time. Despite being in his late forties, the furry behemoth garnered a rep for not just feeding troops but also providing nourishment to locals who were being starved by CIS forces, the cook was not one for seeing others to starve.

As Order 66 kickstarted the end of Pudge’s military career, the Whiphid spent time drifting off from mercenary unit to militia groups, always moving to aid others similar to the Republic of old. Although, more and more, he lost said groups as the Empire cracked down on anything that resembled older ideals during the Clone Wars. As he laid in a rut, drinking himself to cool off the horrors he saw on the battlefield, the furry scrounger desired to have purpose again.

This was answered by a hidden Rebel recruitment officer who had seen the Whiphid's plight and offered him a chance at joining a greater cause. A cause that brought back memories for the old cook.

Miscellaneous:

The reason for Pudge’s loyalty to the Republic was from a small, forgettable mission titled “Operation: Baron”, the Whiphid was one in many of his species enslaved by bantha-baron and slaver, John Dalt. Dalt and his clan were of well-known prominence in the CIS inner circle for providing slave labor, along with a generous profit from the Hutts or Zyggerrians. Setting up a small ranch on the tundra planet, Dalt began working out a steady profit that garnered attention from Republic spies. Not one for seeing those being slaved, the spies made certain arrangements for Jedi and his apprentice to put an end to this matter. The Jedi in question, Qui-Gon Jinn, and his apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi; both went on to demolish said slave business that it left Dalt in hot water with both the undercover CIS and Hutt forces.

Pudge would swear gratitude to the Republic for saving him and his people from the slavers, though he never got the chance to thank the “space wizards” for saving him.

Pets: N/A

Weapons: Wookie Long-Gun.

Tools: Kitchen Tool Case and a few tarps for collecting food ingredients.

Starship Qualifications: N/A (He’s more of a passenger than anything, poor guy never learned how to fly during his previous military career.)

Droid: N/A

Reason for Joining the Black Sheep: Pudge was transferred to the Black Sheep from his unit on the frigate, The Sanguinity. He does not know why exactly, usually military superiors only transferred him if another unit lacked a mess cook, though he has heard rumors about the ship Admiral being distrustful of aliens. Not one for questioning this and rather eager to serve a new group that isn’t arguing with him for “Risshii Eel Caviar” or other fancy frak, he quickly packed his things for the ship.
-0-

IC: Pudge
Mess Prep In The Hall

"Hmmmm? Which should I prep for today's mealtime?" Pudge looked over his recipe book, he was still getting used to this new ship and the structure around it. The troops here seemed like a nice bunch and the rest weren't as judging, how his old unit on the frigate transferred him was a mystery. However, he had no time to ponder the other frigate actions, lunch time was about to happen later than usual. "Meh, I'll give em a surprise they wouldn't notice, hah!"

The Whiphid had picked out a recipe in his book and one that correlated with a little thing he brought back from the Sanguinity, taking a moment to wash his hands at the small sink he had in the mess kitchen. Pudge opened up the fridge where the former cooks kept their ingredients that weren't in deep storage; he was happy to tuck this in secret as a little housewarming gift for his new unit. "There you are, thank the force you didn't freeze solid" Pudge pulled out a furry brown melon from the cold box, he was lucky that Mudhorn eggs don't freeze up easy. Previously, his past unit had a small clutch of them for celebrations, the cook believed that they wouldn't notice one egg missing from their carton. "And unbroken as you were when I smuggled ya in, now what should I use else?" Chef then began to turn gears in his head, until he then started to pull out a few smaller morsels from the fridge, a few leftovers from the last few mealtimes.

Let's hope I can scramble up some Mudhorn Chili with the egg this time, usually the recipe has it with both the egg and meat of the beast, but I guess some improvising is not bad He laid down his ingredients onto his kitchen table, all were laid down in neat efficient order so they wouldn't mess the other. On the left was a still-cold, Mudhorn Egg followed by two slabs of Veg-Meat, and a fat packet of ration paste. To the right of the table was a fat, dead gorg and a thick blue canister of bone broth from some unknown beast. "Well beggars can't be choosers, I'll serve this stuff up with some cheese and polystarch once the kids get back" He smiled smugly, before cracking his knuckles and getting to work.

Unlocking the little tool case he brought with him, a metal crate that carried his utensils; Pudge pulled out a pot and a few cutting tools from it, laying the pot onto the stove. Placing the knives with the other ingredients, the Whiphid hefted up the fuzzy egg and laid it over the pot; he then gently cracked open the egg. Orange gold drizzled from the hairy egg into the pot, the cook made sure every drop went in and then proceeded to crack the eggshell into smaller pieces, making sure every last minuscule gooey shard fell into the mix. The Whiphid developed this add-on for the chili back during the Clone Wars, it added a certain crunch to each flavorful bite.

But he had more steps to follow if he was to make today's next luncheon...

TAG: Anyone, really.

 

A fun combo with @adaml83 and @Adalia-Durron!


IC: Mackenzie Hollymander, Baniss Vermillion, Max Pallas
Black Sheep Nerve Center, Intrepid
Great minds coming together...

"Do we even know for a fact that it's only one individual doing this?"

MacKenzie frowned as he fiddled with this medallion. "I suspect two or more. And the attack on us is two or three pronged." He said quietly, "the virus is a new thing, an inside job, we need to look at newly assigned people to the Intrepid, even newly assigned droids. But we have been tracked since Naboo," he snorted softly, "since I got here." He looked up at Baniss, "want to frisk me?"

"The virus is new, but we have been tracked since Naboo. No one's taken it seriously until after SonTay," said Max flatly. She'd been saying for months that there was a mole, and everyone had dismissed it as her paranoia. Then she frowned, looking at Vermillion. "Wait, you had people looking for the comms array? Who? When did you send them out? Because..."

Baniss chuckled a bit at MacKenzie, "Has that worked on anyone?" He then moved on to Max's questions.

"I have a few programs that go through peoples' histories when I need someone with particular skills. So I found some junior Communications officers with clean pasts, clean affiliations, and from places that would motivate them to take even more action against the Empire than most people. Places like Alderaan, Jedha, Topwara, places like that. They noticed a signal that piggybacked whenever we were using the main array making it hard to detect."

He resisted a sigh, "We haven't had a chance to go out and examine it directly because of the debris field, but..." he tapped a few things on his datapad, "the two of you should now be receiving some images of what a normal main comm array should look like, and the Intrepid's array. Do not use the ship's computer for any of this, I may send something up to get the two of you some equipment and get you a temporary boost to your security clearance for the purposes of this mission." He didn't say that he already had, but they'd find out soon enough. "I didn't know for certain that we were being tracked until that last mission when I directed those people to use our exterior holo cameras to examine the hull to find something, which they did."

"That virus though took time. A good amount of time."

Max bit her lip. "Someone must've found out what your people were looking for," she said. "That could have triggered our mole to escalate. Until now, they've only been tipping off the Skulls, so that the attacks seem to be random and external. We can send the astromechs out to gather info on the comms array. It's a good cover story...officially, they can be looking for damage to the ship and doing repair work based on the attack by the Interdictor. I'll have Digger, my astromech, get the info from the comms array." She glanced at Hollymander. "You used it before, you know its capabilities." To Baniss, she explained, "He's been programmed for slicing and some intel analysis. We can either shut down the array or...we could put an intercept relay on it back to us so we can see what he or she is sending, and maybe figure out who it is. The danger of that is that the Empire will continue to receive info that threatens the Intrepid."

Baniss nodded, "It's an idea. Then again we need to get out of the fight long enough to even turn it off long enough to fully examine it to see if we can turn it into a trap of our own."

He smiled again, "I wouldn't forget the accomplishments of the squadron, particularly Son Tay, which would elevate the Sheep within the eyes of the Imperials. Also, I wouldn't forget that there are times that the various branches really enjoy showing each other up." He considered this attack an attack by Imperial Intelligence while the previous one was by the regular Navy.

Max reached in her pocket to run the braid of the corley wreath through her fingers. "They've been dogging us since Naboo." She looked over at Hollymander. He'd joined them after Naboo. "Had you heard anything? Before you came?"

"Nothing. But then again, I think they were on to me, or suspected me at the very least. Seeing Amber, and recognising her was a way out for me that day. I suspect if I'd stayed much longer I'd have ended up in front of a firing squad, or worse." A distant look as he thought, "and I honestly do not think they knew you were coming, the devastation caused shows me that, so I fail to see how they could have tagged the ship."

Max nodded. "The Sheep aren't really important enough for the Imps to turn all their intel on us. Skull squadron, yeah, they've had a permanent vendetta since Naboo, but they couldn't have plan--" She broke off as a thought came to her. Then she turned back to Hollymander. "Do you still have the guest list? From the wedding?"

"I wish. What you saw me come away from that place was all I had. I had to beg for clothes when I got here, cause I never want to strangle myself in an Imperial uniform ever again." He thought for a moment, "I have a damn good memory, even if I say so myself, I can write down all I remember, if that helps?"

She turned back to Baniss. "What if...if one of the guests at the wedding on Naboo had familly or friends on the Intrepid? It was an Imperial ship, the entire crew came over... and there weren't any problems until after Naboo. This could be a personal vendetta. And the Skulls escaped Naboo, Lou's ex is one of them...it's personal for them, too."

"I'll get started on that list, I think I have most the officials I can name, but honestly, you might be looking for wait staff or even security and I can't help you there." MacKenzie conceded.

Baniss considered both options, "Depending on how much influence Lou's ex has within the Imperial military, I would put the chances higher there, though looking at the guest list and the workers there wouldn't hurt, but more information on Lou's ex has higher priority in my opinion."

Max nodded thoughtfully. "We'll need to access Intrepid's personnel files," she said. "We'll need to do a deep dive on their background and family connections, to see if we can match any names." She continued to stroke the silky corley braid, thinking some more. "And we'll need access to the Imperial after-action reports on the wedding. That will be harder."

"My codes would have been changed the minute, or maybe close, to when I left." MacKenzie said rubbing his chin, losing his beard had been freeing but he missed rubbing it. He'd often thought it made him look intelligent. "But...." he smiled at Max, "know any good slicers?"

And then the lights went out.

TAG @Vehn, Anyone, Any astromechs who want to get in on the action!

 

IC: Captain Kayn "Fumble Fingers" Balzroth
Somehow Still Alive

Kayn and Mermaid zoomed past the three remaining active Gozanti cruisers. He hoped he could keep most of the TIEs in front of the cruisers, leaving the space aft of them clear for Vet and Vixen to keep hitting the enemy from behind. Flak gunners opened up at them as they raced past. Kayn worked the control yoke roughly, manhandling the black A-wing up and down. He still wasn't hand flying with any finesse, but evasive action didn't require much in the way of finesse.

Pulling ahead of the cruisers, the A-wings closed on the rebel corvettes and the flight of TIEs harassing them. Kayn carefully lined up the sights for Zara's long range lasers and caressed the trigger. His shot missed completely. Switching to maximum rate of fire might at least make his shots look more dangerous, but he'd have to manually page through the weapons panel and select the correct setting, which would entail too much time with eyes inside the cockpit. He fired again and missed again.

Green plasma flashed behind him. Another flight of TIEs had gotten behind him. "Weave, Zara! I mean Mermaid!" He shook his head in frustration. This was turning into his worst flight in years. Maybe ever.

Fortunately Mermaid wasn't bothered by his gaffes. "Gotcha, Mean Streak." She instantly began to turn toward him and they zig-zagged back and forth, shooting at the TIEs on their tails. One of her targets spun away like a pinwheel spraying sparks in all directions while Kayn missed completely. With immediate threats behind and only distant threats ahead, he switched the shields to double aft. An instant later he heard a sharp crack that drew his attention forward. There was a nasty scratch near the center of the windscreen. A random piece of shrapnel had gouged a divot out of the transparisteel. Zara's gonna kill me! He remembered Kio and grimaced. Focus! He lined up another shot and missed.

Kayn growled bitterly but kept them moving toward the corvettes, which were still being strafed by the first flight of TIEs. If I can't shoot straight, maybe I can outmaneuver them. In a few seconds he was leading Mermaid and their pursuers over the corvettes, and for a moment it was pure pandemonium. Rebel flak gunners shot at both flights of TIEs, TIEs shot at corvettes and A-wings, A-wings shot at TIEs, and TIEs swerved wildly to avoid collisions with other TIEs.



Amazingly, nobody died. That was mostly thanks to the Imperial flight leaders who sensibly ordered their pilots to break away from the chaos, regroup and coordinate their next move. With a few seconds to breathe, Kayn pulled himself together and took stock. Mermaid had ended up ahead of the corvettes; he was still behind them. He glanced down at the A-wing's weapons panel, thinking he could reset the lasers, and noticed that the auto-loader had finally gotten one of his two remaining torpedoes loaded and armed. Making a snap decision, he activated the targeting computer and turned back towards the cruisers. If he couldn't hit anything with the lasers, maybe he was due for some luck with a torpedo.

He remembered which buttons to push and managed to get an active weapons lock on the leading Gozanti. Staring intently at the targeting computer display right in front of his eyes, he carefully aligned the symbols and caressed the firing trigger. The torpedo fired, tracking straight toward the oncoming cruiser. And if he was reading the sensors right, that cruiser's shields were very weak forward, probably buckling from heavy pounding by the rebel corvettes' turbolaser turrets.

Kayn's fangs showed in a vicious grin; his luck was finally changing. Then one TIE fighter swooped out from behind the targeted cruiser, swerved directly into the torpedo's path, and rammed it. The proton warhead detonated spectacularly, utterly obliterating the TIE.



Kayn was shocked. It was obvious the Imperial pilot had sacrificed himself to protect his ship. That kind of dedication to duty or loyalty or friendship or whatever it was left him dumbfounded. Didn't the Imps know that heroism was supposed to be solely in the realm of the rebels?

Flak opened up from the enemy and his hands reacted even as his brain tumbled. The black A-wing snap-rolled into a split-S and reversed course back toward the corvettes. He needed to rejoin Zara. No, Mermaid. He shook his head in angry confusion, feeling lost and disoriented. What was happening to the universe? The Imperials were suddenly heroes, Kayn was the worst pilot in the battle, and his best wingmate was a murderer. Everything was backwards and upside down.


TAG: @Adalia-Durron @Mira Grau @Rebecca_Daniels

 

IC: R2-MA16 "Digger," (with a guest shot from Harley's astromech P1-NK, thanks to @Vehn)
Black Sheep Hangar, Intrepid

Digger watched the human with the bright orange fur in the cockpit of his pilot's ship and grumbled to himself. He swiveled his dome to see the plane captain, Emilia Sparkiniss, working with the massive amphibian on the new astromech insertion slot that she had designed, and rolled over to her, blaring an alarm.

//ALERT: UNAUTHORIZED PILOT IN COCKPIT! UNAUTHORIZED ACTIVITY IN PROGRAMMING FUNCTION!

He had to repeat himself twice before she understood what he was trying to say.

"There's a virus, an attack on all of our fighters," explained Sparky. "Someone planted it to ground us, we don't know who. Materas was assigned to clean them up."

Digger processed that for a moment, then squawked in indignation. HE was capable of clearing out viruses! His PILOT was capable of clearing out viruses; she was the best slicer on the ship! Digger moved towards the insertion slot.

"No," said Sparky firmly. "Koko and I aren't finished yet. And all droids are banned right now from accessing ship's terminals. The virus isn't contained. How do you think Max would feel if YOU got infected, hm?"

Digger processed that. With a mechanical sigh, he rolled to a vantage point where he could keep his ocular receptors on the interloper. As soon as the human had completed his work, Digger would be all over that ship to make sure it was perfect! Humans were fallible at this sort of thing, after all.

And then a message went out from Intrepid Engineering Control. //ALL ASTROMECH UNITS AVAILABLE REPORT TO HULL FOR REPAIR AND SCAN OF HULL. A long list of repair orders followed. He fell into line with the others when another message was transmitted to him, from Max. He stopped short, causing the droid behind him to bump into him.

Digs! We're pretty sure the mole is transmitting from the Intrepid to the Imps. We don't think he or she is piggybacking off the standard comms array, but we need to double check. We suspect there's another unauthorized comms array on the hull. We need you and the other Sheep droids to find it. Scan the hull against standard Imperial configuration and report any unusual equipment you find. Report back to me, Hollymander, and Vermillion with whatever you find.

Digger swiveled his head. Most of the others had gone on to the hull already. He moved into the access tube, and waited as it carried him to the hull. He turned around, looking at the others, and moved to the nearest droid, transmitting to them. //ALERT: WE HAVE ADDITIONAL ORDERS, ULTRA CLASSIFICATION.

They all fanned out along the hull, making repairs and scanning for items that were not part of the normal configuration for an Imperial Quasar Fire class cruiser carrier. A nest of mynocks was speedily dispatched. There was some confusion and excitement over a strange object embedded in the hull, until they realized it was the partial cockpit of a TIE fighter with what was left of its pilot that had crashed. The heavy droids marked that as their task, while two 2-1b medical droids came to retrieve the biological material.

Time was passing and Digger was getting worried when Harley’s droid, P1-NK sent him a message.

//ALERT: UNIDENTIFIED EQUIPMENT ON FORWARD HULL TOPDECK. CLOSE TO SHIELD GENERATOR.

Digger immediately pulled back from the damaged hydrocoolant system and zoomed towards P1, dodging the others who were engaged on various repairs. The two droids circled the small, protruding box, with a small depression at the center. It didn’t look like any standard comms array. Digger zoomed in his ocular receptors. It was actually clamped to the hull; not welded in. For easy removal. There was no data report.

//INFORM: PRELIMINARY SCAN INDICATES RECURRENT SIGNAL AT INTERVALS OF 10.5666348 STANDARD MINUTES AT A SUB-FREQUENCY LEVEL OF 13.78493.

Digger activated his own scanner array and waited. Sure enough, the signal came again, and he analyzed it. Definitely a type of tracking beacon, on a frequency that would easily be masked by the ship’s shield generators. He couldn’t see any indication of an antenna for transmissions, but that didn’t mean one wasn’t there. He did another scan, trying to see what was inside. There was the transmitter, telescoped inside. So for the person to transmit, they would activate the transmission antenna for the duration of the signal, and it would withdraw into the box, to keep a lower profile. The wiring went inside the hull, somehow, so whoever it was could connect without needing to go through standard comms. Subtle. Digger had never seen anything like it. His pilot would be impressed.

He transmitted the information to Max, with information on the scans he’d gotten, and asked for further instructions. She might not want to destroy it.

Then he turned to P1-NK. //APPROVE: AN IMPORTANT FIND. THIS MAY BE WHAT WE HAVE BEEN LOOKING FOR. HAVE TRANSMITTED INFO TO THE OFFICERS. WELL DONE.

P1 was pleased, and did a little dance, whirling in circles on the hull, warbling a jaunty tune of victory. Khairn’s droid turned towards them.

//ALERT: REPAIRS UNDERWAY. DESIGNATED REPAIR LIST HAS NOT BEEN COMPLETED! RESUME DUTIES AS ASSIGNED!

Digger chirped an apology and went back to his work on the hydrocoolant system. The location of the enemy comms array was now known. He was eager to demolish it, but without orders they could do nothing. Sometimes they had to leave things in place. He didn’t understand that, as it could jeopardize security, but biologicals were strange creatures. Max’s father had tried to explain it, something about looping things back in on themselves, but it was beyond his programming. In the meantime, there were leaks to plug and conduits to re-route. But he would be there when a decision was made. And then he’d go back to check on his pilot’s X-wing, since he didn’t trust that the strange human had done an adequate job of flushing the virus.

TAG: @Vehn, @Adalia-Durron, @adaml83

 

IC: Zero Maderas
Intrepid Hangar
Zero had little time for dawdling once he reached the hangar, he had a mission to complete. Luckily, his slicing toolkit was prepped for the other risk he was willing to undertake; in fact, he made a slight prayer for what he was doing.

Pulling a metal cube from his toolkit and setting it onto the floor, the middle between both sides of starfighters; the slicer slid his forefinger in a crisscross motion on the cube's cracked touch screen. The cube opened from all angles like a blooming flower; it was a Portable Jacking Station, the tool older slicers used to connect to multiple cords or wires on terminals. Although in some circles, usually the slicers or datajackers who were more willing to pay the risk, the jacking device could help hack into multiple different terminals depending on the model. Sadly, Zero's tool was an older Republic model and a venerable Mythosaur compared to most modern slicing tech. Deary, you might an old tool that got me through harder scrapes and you might be a bit buggy; but I need your help in clearing all nine of these ships of a deadly parasite. Zero then pressed the cube down as it's internal magnet kept it centered on the floor; the slicer then made a silent prayer for anyone noticing him on camera or arriving in the hangar.

"If this idea's gonna work, I'll need to borrow some extension cords from the mechanics," Zero then started to rush towards a large toolbox, opening it up...and removing several lengths of connector cables. "Hope no one in the grease pits sees me now, I'll have myself melvined and jettisoned out the airlock for this stunt."

Hefting the cords with every last bit of strength he had in his bandy arms, Zero brought them toward the jacking station and started to connect the metal ends of the cords to the open tubes on his station's frame. Due to the outdated model he had, the jacker had four access tools and by doing the math, this would take more than one hour he anticipated initially with the number of starfighters. Get it together man! All these fighters depend on ya, just do four at a time thoroughly and this'll be a cinch The youth shook his head and made a game face, before starting his mission.

It took around 30 minutes to get the cords untangled to a targeted starfighter each, and it took 30 or more for him to clamber atop them to connect the cords to their own ship computers. Zero's legs were aching from constantly hopping onto ship frames, but he gritted his teeth with every injection of cords plugs; his head focusing on saving everyone's ship computers. After he had four ships assembled, three X-Wings and one Y-Wing, the slicer wiped his sweaty head for his risky test.

Jacking in his datapad to a wireless connection built into the jacking station, Zero Maderas took off his jacket and tossed it to the floor, before pressing the access button on his datapad for the ships' computers. Luckily, the satellite he kept on hand was still attached to serve as a drilling shield, plus the older protection software left on his jacking station. A familiar array of red screens greeted the youth as he prepped his cure, while a chill went up his spine.....

TAG: ANYONE!

 

IC: Pudge
Intrepid Mess Hall/Kitchen
Stove heat was set to a reasonably hot temperature as the boiling stewpot steamed, Pudge clamped on a tight lid on the chili pot before grabbing his saucepan and a cutting board, taking a whiff of the liquid yolks being slow cooked at Tatooine heat. Whiphid proceeded to then rip off the plastic wrap encasing the slabs of Veg-Meat, his senses were greeted by the sweet smell of grounded vegetable and animal protein matter; though he did pick up a faint scent of offal mixed in as well. Veg-Meat was often a good source of instant protein but the growth and mixing of plant and animal matter sometimes meant that greengrocers "got creative" with where they got the meat. No matter, Pudge took a deep breath, breath and started to lay down the slimy green slabs on his cutting board.

"Meat like this is hard to come by ratio wise, better cut up the most it and use the rest for extra chili meat," Pudge whipped off a butcher cleaver from his cutting tools on the table, sharpening it off his board in two swipes. "Gorg will be added in later, that will need to be pureed into a light dressing, not unlike most chubafly soups."

He then started to cut up the slabs into rows of four, then diagonally and finally clipping off the tips on all ends for recycling's sake. Pudge grinned at his cuts with satisfaction and collected them from his cutting board, including the slimy ends he clipped off, until hoarding them all in the saucepan. "Better add half of the bone broth in this to make the meat secretions more...saucier, yeah, that'll do it," The Whiphid muttered softly, he turned to the thick canister of the boney soup substance. Taking hold of it; he unscrewed the cans top off and poured half of the marble-white liquid atop the saucepan; carefully coating the green meat chunks in white glazing.

"Good, the stuff is still fresh and smells good, now time for it to cook slowly with the chili pot" Pudge then settled the saucepan on his stove, setting the dial down a peg from Tatooine levels of heat to regular, soft Felucia levels of heat; he didn't want his stuff to go bad from burning. He then turned to the preserved Gorg and a packet of ration paste; by the other side of the kitchen wall next to the fridge, was a battered blender that saw better use somewhere else.

Pudge cracked his furry knuckles and proceeded to make today's luncheon, unperturbed by the stuff going on around him...

TAG: Anyone really (Chili's almost through and the soup will be on...)

 

GM Update:

​

IC: Commander Firmus Khairn

“It is my professional opinion that Commander Firmus Khairn be reinstated as commanding officer of the Black Sheep. Effective immediately…” ~Dr. Raynor

Commander Firmus Khairn breathed a sigh of relief. He even smiled. What a day. He was being reinstated. Well, once he talked with Husk of course.

Khairn breathed deeply for the first time in his life. The old anxieties slowly melting away. He had tools now to deal with his emotions. His stress. His fears. Tools that he didn’t have before. Tools that would help him cope. Tools that would make him better at his job. He wanted to start fresh with the squadron. Start over. The way he’d come across before left little doubt in his mind what the Sheep thought of him. Thought of his leadership abilities. It had all gone so wrong. It was, largely, his own fault. His own doing. His own making. The squadron was dispersed now. Spread to the corners of the ship and the galaxy. The fighters were grounded. Everything was in chaos. The lights had just flickered on and then shut off before coming back on again.

Something was wrong.

Khairn rounded a flickering corridor, in a less heavily traveled section of the ship, and nearly ran over a crouched individual who was busy doing something with a pair of wires and a datapad. The activity was suspicious. Off. It wasn’t normal procedure. The figure stood and looked at Khairn. The figure’s face flashed in the lights as the power came back on.

“You…what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be on the…”, Khairn growled.

The figure didn’t reply as a blaster emerged from the darkness leveled in Khairn’s direction.

Khairn made the connection quickly between the datapad, where the figure was located inside the Intrepid, the blaster, and the overall mood of the situation.

“You’re the mole! You traitorous son of a-“ Khairn cursed before the trigger was pulled not once but two times.

Khairn crumpled to the ground, twitching, jerking, as blood pooled across his chest. The figure pressed a button on the datapad and gently creeped past Khairn's dying figure and into the darkness of the corridor. As the figure moved past Khairn a small rank pip fell out of the collar of the figure's unifom and landed directly on Khairn's bloody chest.

Khairn, coughing, and shaking, slowly brought his comm link to his mouth and choked out two very simple yet powerful words, “Help me…”

Darkness came for him as well.

Tag: @adaml83; @Adalia-Durron; @Mistress_Renata

OOC: Let your investigation begin....and don't worry this mole problem is only just beginning.

---

Dreadnaught Scimitar
Engine Room

Wyrock was a miracle worker.

The engines, clunky and in need of proper servicing, began a slow ascent back to life. Slowly, cautiously, as if the dreadnaught was nervous to start again fuel began to flow. Lights came on in corridors. Oxygen scrubbers resumed their duties. A gentle thrumming was heard throughout the ship as its old heartbeat returned to life.

Lou and the Marines advanced to the bridge leaving Akiva and Wyrock in the engine hold. They didn’t encounter any more Imperials. Though Lou refused to be goaded into lowering her guard. They didn’t encounter any more strange things like the Starweird. They encountered very little.

The double blast doors to the bridge parted. Lou and the Marines conducted a quick sweep only to find that the bridge was unoccupied. Consoles were slowly coming to life as Lou sat down in the captain’s chair and frantically accessed the nearest terminal.

“Wyrock, Akiva,” Lou called out on comms, “I need your help getting this baby running. I don’t know a damn thing about capital ships. Get up here.”

OOC: We'll resume our conversation....

Tag: @Mitth_Fisto; @darthbernael

---

Iona System

The remaining Gozanti cruisers went evasive as the Rebel force struck them hard and with the element of surprise. TIE losses were mounting as the Imperials struggled to regain mental clarity in the wake of the attack. There was confusion as the remaining TIE fighters struggled to get a clear picture of the ever-changing battlefield.

Overall, chaos reigned for the Empire.

The two CR90 corvettes had shot out ahead of the Rebel reinforcements and, despite their damage, were spooling up their hyperdrives to do their last jump before rendezvousing with the Sanguinity and the Intrepid. The corvettes had been hit hard but both captains had considered themselves lucky to still have their hyperdrives intact.

Two of the Gozanti cruisers began to make an about face and target the A-Wings and X-Wings. Their lasers fired sporadically in all directions as the gunner crews became desperate to score any hits. The lead ship in the element was coordinating the struggling TIE fighter defense as the general sense of confusion continued.

The third Gozanti cruiser, damaged by the explosion of the first, drifted lazily away from the others venting fuel into space. The stricken ship continued, however, to open up with everything in its possession. No doubt it wouldn’t go down without a hard fight. All the while it was sending out a distress signal for any nearby Imperial forces to come to her aide.

It was then that something emerged from hyperspace. Something entirely unexpected.

OOC: Continue your attack and feel free to land hits on two of the remaining three Gozantis. The last one is saved for....a surprise.

Tag: @Sarge; @Mira Grau; @Adalia-Durron and a tag to someone else out there.....

---

Intrepid
The Virus

The vital systems to the Intrepid were protected.

For now.

Firewalls were holding. System checks, reboots, and defensive measures were enacted to keep key systems such as life support, engineering, and navigation from succumbing to this new and unexpected electronic attack. For extra precaution all bulkhead doors and entryways in and out of key areas such as the bridge, hangars, and weapons lockers were operated using manual release levers rather than the usual electronic methods.

As time passed the virus mutated, morphed, and grew more aggressive as it double down on its attack of the other squadrons that the Intrepid carried. Soon the Intruders and the Vipers mechanical service droids were infected.



Those droids in turn attempted to frantically plug into any terminals in an effort to save what little remained of their unique identities. It was almost as if the virus was prompting the droids to commit a sort of self-destruction sequence.

Paranoid mechanics and plane cew resorted to using restraining bolts on their droids as the general fear throughout the hangars was that the droids would turn, somehow, on their human masters. The large blast doors separating the squadrons respective hangars came down sealing everyone in together. There was to be no intermingling between the Sheep, the Intruders, and the Vipers. Especially since the latter two had been compromised as well.

The concern regarding the droids grew as Maderas worked hard on each individual Sheep fighter that had been grounded as a result of the virus. The Sheep craft were slowly coming back online. Still there were concerns about the efficacy of the squadron. The lack of a squadron flying CAP left the burgeoning Rebel fleet in a bind. They had very little, if any, defensive capabilities. It would be several hours before the Sheep’s craft were ready to fly. Not to mention rebooting the electrical systems.

Maderas’ datapad vibrated. A new message came in from command.

“Virus has penetrated the firewalls of the missile launchers. Two salvoes have already been launched. Stop what you are doing and head to weapons control near the bridge. The weapon’s launchers need to be overridden. The virus has locked command out. Please assist."

Tag: @Sgt.Matt

OOC: Take your time with this and enjoy.

---

TIE Defender and Recon X

“Affirmative Delta One,” Intrepid Actual replied, “be advised that the Intrepid is on lockdown until further notice.”

There was a long pause before a new transmission came through.

“Delta One, Actual, uh, we’ve got a problem. Concussion missiles have launched in two salvoes against the Sanguinity. The virus has taken control of the launchers. We count at least twelve missiles on their way. Since you’re the only fighters flying out there we need your help taking them out. They are actively seeking targets so watch out. Good hunting, Actual out.”

Tag: @TheAdmiral; @darthbernael

OOC: Pretty straightforward. Have some fun you two!

---

Intrepid Hull

The Imperial device near the comm array finished transmitting. It's usefulness had run its course. The final signal from the operator inside the Intrepid was to self destruct.

The explosion wouldn’t be very large. That would draw too much attention. Rather it would be no more impactful than if a small meteorite clanked against the Intrepid’s hull. Big enough to destroy the device but small enough to go unnoticed. The timer began counting down from ten minutes.

Unnoticed, that is, were it not for Digger being nearby who could scan the device and figure out a potential way to disarm what had just become a bomb....

OOC: Get creative here if you'd like. No wrong approach. Surprise me!

Tag: @Mistress_Renata

Tag: @Rebecca_Daniels; @Sinrebirth; @AgentViper007; @Trieste (nothing direct but again just a friendly heads up that the game is moving forward. There may be opportunities here for development for some of you.)

OOC: This update wasn't as expansive as I'd have liked but it gets us all moving in the right direction. Please resume working on any joint posts that you have going and best of luck. Any questions please feel free to PM. Next update will be launched around March 18th. That should give us all a solid two weeks to work on things.

 

IC: Artemis "Artie" Deco Location: Intrepid, getting a bad feeling about this…

Artie was heading back to his Y wing tp do final checks he saw the lights go out. He stopped mid stride and had a look around, what the hell was going on?

He had been told there was important stuff going on but not exactly what. Was this linked to it? Was this a technical malfunction? He hoped so.

The lights came back on not long afterwards so Artie continued on. Technical malfunction, that was it.

Reaching his Y wing he grabbed a sniff of himself and wrinkled his nose definitely need a refresher. Maybe he could come back and take another look at the Y wing later, and introduce himself properly to his techs.

As he turned around…the hangar doors were closed. That was really not a good sign, he was stuck here.

Oh great, his nervousness rising to the fore first day here and i'm already stuck in a hangar. I have a bad feeling about this…..

Maybe he was thinking too much about things but he had a look around to see what the atmosphere in the hangar was like.

In short: chaos…

Droids were speeding around like their wheels were on fire, mechanics and others looked panicked and looked like they were trying to slap restraining bolts on them. Was this malfunction linked to the droids maybe? Artie's droid had not yet rolled up to him so thankfully he was unaffected by this.

People looked too harrassed to find out what was going on, and being socially awkward Artie felt like this was maybe not the right time. But he was getting more nervous by the second.

Alright Artie, remain by your fighter. You might get the call for your fighter to go out. Well it's not like you can go anywhere else on board, you're stuck.

Artie sighed. Just when he had been on a high after completing training and potentially maybe joining the squadron, things had gone to pot. Hopefully soon it would all be sorted and he could meet some of his fellow pilots.

Artie remembered chaos well, the escape from Son Tay was full of it. Explosions, fighters flying overhead and a hell of a lot of screaming and shouting. He squeezed his eyes shut trying to make the memories go away.

He leant against the ladder of his Y wing, the nervousness still chewing away at him.

I hope this all ends soon….

TAG: @Vehn , Anyone

 

IC: PO3 Lughdyt
"I Love the Smell of Ionized Droids in the Morning"


It was happening. He had been doing his best to warn people for over a century. There were too many droids, all of them taking away much-needed jobs from honest hard-working organic people. But no one wanted to listen. They rolled their eyes and laughed at his warnings. Called him reactionary. Paranoid. Anti-droidite.

And now he was right. It was finally the time of Droidageddon. The Butlerian Jihad. Droidnarok. Droidocalypse. Now.

But if no one else was ready, Lughdyt was.

The Ugnaught opened the lowest drawer of his big roll-around toolbox, shoved aside the stash of spare parts he kept there, and pulled open the false bottom. Oh yes, I'm ready.

Two bandoliers of Clone Wars surplus droid poppers draped across his shoulders. A Merr-Sonn ion blaster pistol in a hip holster. An overpowered hotwired shock wand on the other hip. A massive customized Jawa DEMP carbine slung across his back. A sack of left over restraining bolts tucked into his belt.

Tying a grease rag around his forehead for a sweatband, he stalked around Rebel Rouser. None of these mechanized barve-holes is getting anywhere near MY ship!

A binary load-lifter was tramping across the hangar, looking like it might pass in the general vicinity of B Flight's ramp space. With a predatory growl, the Ugnaught unslung the Jawa carbine from his back and pointed it at the massive droid. No need to give it any warning. You don't warn an appliance or a power tool when you turn it off.

As he pulled the trigger of the crudely built weapon, he felt the insulation on the grip crack. A vicious electrical shock slammed through his arm and hurled him backward at least two meters. He landed on his back, hard, and lay there twitching and drooling.

Darkness closed in on him, moving faster than the rhythmic tramp of the load-lifter's treads. He was fading into unconsciousness.

The horror...

The horror...


TAG: All the heroes of the hangar deck.

 

???
Iona System


The object transitioned from hyperspace, it wasn't cloaked so it showed up on sensors but too far away to get a confirmed signature on it. It moved with haste toward the damaged cruiser, the wounded vessel turning its guns on the object that had entered the fray. Deadly laser blasts lash out but miss the on coming bogey. Blue ion blast lance out from the object crashing into what remained of the shields and sending lightning dancing across the hull. Two crimson streaks followed after, a pair of torpedoes on a deadly trajectory. They impact with a orange bloom taking a chunk out of the already injured vessel. Heavy paired laser blasts skip across the hull of the Gozanti punching holes in the shell of the once proud ship.

The unknown ship breaks away leaving a trail of destruction in its wake. As it comes closer to the Sheep, the sensors return a signature, a Y-Wing, their eyes can confirm this, a yellow nose and a wishbone shape craving through the darkness. Moving closer to the group the IFF finally turns on, their sensors finally putting a name to the UFO.

'KID'

"I sure did miss this…" A youthful feminine voice sounded over their comms, a familiar bubbly voice that sounded like the speaker was smiling. "Vet…you ok?" She called out to her first wingmate, "Vixen you too?" The tone of concern moved to her close friend, "Zero, I still have that card you gave me."

Ianna had returned…The Kid was back.

TAG: @Mira Grau @Adalia-Durron @Sarge

 

IC: Baniss Vermillion
Usual hideout, Intrepid

Having decided that the ship’s security was useless, Baniss decided to go through the manifests of oncoming people a month before Naboo.

He also decided that he wanted some notifications in case something weird was going on. Shots were fired somewhere outside the blaster range when we weren't being boarded. The display gave him a rough area, so he notified Mackenzie, and Torren. Baniss wanted to ask Joy, but she wasn’t on the Intrepid.

Shots fired, bring your blaster, medics notified.

Baniss gave them the area that he had, and hurried off with his own holdout blaster.

TAG: @Vehn, @Adalia-Durron, @Rebecca_Daniels

 

IC: Zero Maderas
Intrepid Hangar
The message only made Zero more determined to nip the virus in the bud, despite the fact that his body was running on fumes at the moment.

"Got four done, hope the guys mind my little vaccine for their ships" Zero mumbled to himself, disconnecting his datapad from the jacking station and placing his coat back on. He placed his datapad back into his slicing toolkit, carefully setting it in it's velvet sleeve with the other tools and gadgets, the slicer ignored the various things going on around him. Droids were going bonkers like a nuna with it's head cut; and some mechanic was launched back by some electrical thing in the back, Zero shook his head before centering his thoughts. Can't get distracted good buddy, I better relay the little accident to the guys on the bridge The slicer bull rushed the mechanical door of the hangar and pulled on the release lever, metal shivered as the bulkhead clanked open. Weapons Bridge, let's hope those people operating the bridge controls haven't touched anything, this virus is no ordinary beast.

He then rushed down the hallways of flickering lights and faint buzzing of lights to the bridge, his heart pounded every second of the way....

TAG: ANYONE!

 

IC: Pudge
Intrepid Mess Kitchens
The gas-pumped stove had the chili-pot at the boiling point.

Pudge smiled as he could pick up the pleasant scent of boiling golden egg liquid, shells having dissipated into the mixture; the smaller saucepan next to it was giving off an equally delicious smell. Green, protein meat had soaked in the boney glaze and was now secreting an organic light green slime that was perfect for the chili. Veg-Meat was often eaten raw or cooked like most meats and veggies, yet, an experienced cook like Pudge knew that the secretions were much more tastier than the meat itself. However, he had little time to take in the smells, he had to mix the greenish white chunks into the pot before it settles. The Whiphid took an oven mitt and gripped the saucepan carefully...until he started to quickly pour it's contents into the cooking egg liquid; glazed chunks mixed into the chili as Pudge made sure every last bit with the secretions made it in. "Excellent, now my next step is to puree my little gorg for the final touch," Pudge clamped a top over the cooking pot, before waddling over to the small battery blender, pulling it over to the kitchen table where the tiny amphibius meat laid bare.

Pulling off the blenders cover, the Whiphid's face scrunched at the blenders lack of usage, the outside was rusty save the innards; the blades were shiny. What was the set power for shredding meat to dressing...OH YEAH! He smiled at his realization, before grabbing the cold Gorg and plopping its frozen body into the blender. It took some effort to close the top, the tool definitely was a past Republic utensil, all appearance and little ease in setting up. Clamping his large hand on the blenders top, Pudge clicked the blender on and set it to the highest power on the scale, power level eleven to be exact.

"FRAK ME!"

Pudge clung on as the blender jerked a bit on the table, while the Gorg's body was turned into a bright, neon purple swirl; every shredding spin made the metal device shudder. Just five minutes is all I need for this be dressing, just hold on more The cook's fingers were shivering as the purple meat was being pureed to pure sauce. By the end of five minutes, the blender finished as Pudge relaxed his tired hands, laying down the machine next to the packet of ration-paste. After a quick rinse of his messed hands in the sink, the cook massaged his hands for another step in cooking; the adding of paste and other broth half into the pot.

Taking a deep breath, he grabbed the packet of ration paste and canister of remaining bone broth; pulling the lid off the chili pot with a intent for mixing. His product was almost to fruition, the green meat chunks had mixed into the golden egg soup and turned it to a radiant blueish chili, save for the small specks of Veg-Meat that floated by. Pudge poured the remaining boney sludge from the blue cannister slowly, making sure every drops avoids spilling onto the stove. He then tore off the cap on the paste packet and began to squirt it's yellow contents into the pot, draining the fat packet till it shriveled up. "There we go, now, time for a little wait until I add the light meaty dressing" Pudge grinned as lightly stirred the contents with one of his clean knifes, letting his ingredients mix into the bubbling chili.

Upon clamping the lid back on and pumping the stoves setting up to Kashyyk level heating; he took out his pipe from his apron pocket, lighting it up with a match. The Whiphid took a moment to smoke a few blueish smoke rings as he waited for the right period for the chili to fully cook, internally he wondered if anyone in the staff or outside would stop by to check up on him....

TAG: All Staff On The Intrepid (Soup's almost on!)

 

OOC: Another brilliant combo with @Vehn, thank you with helping me develop Artie some more

IC: Artemis "Artie" Deco & Airen Vehn
Location: Intrepid, time to get out to the toolbox

Airen cursed as the heavy blast doors of the hangar closed with a loud and resounding thud. He was locked down. Sealed in as if he'd attempted to rob an ancient tomb. He saw several other mechanics dealing with malfunctioning loader droids and shook his head. They didn't have those problems in the Empire. Course the Empire kept a very firm grip on their droid underlings. It was probably one of the few times Airen felt like living and working with the Empire had been a positive thing though he'd never admit that to anyone near him except for his wife, Lou.

Airen opened his toolkit and went to work on Lou's Y-Wing, specifically, the rear gunner turret. He knelt on top of the cockpit and examined the turret housing. There was a good deal of carbon buildup and Clark, the rear gunner, had complained that the turret hadn't seemed as responsive the last time they'd taken the wishbone out.

Airen cursed again. He needed help. The loader droids were compromised. He glanced about the hangar and saw another Y-Wing pilot, Airen didn't know his name, and waved him over, "I could use a hand here! Pull up a ladder and grab a pair of gloves."



Artie managed to hear the call over the noise of all that was going on. Looked like someone needed his help and by the sounds of it, it sounded mechanical if he needed a pair of gloves.

Patting his Y wings nose and tossing his helmet back into the cockpit he walked over to the source of the noise. A man working on top of another Y wing. Was that…a two seater version?

Artie trotted over, grabbing gloves from nearby (he would put them back) and rolling over a nearby ladder. Pulling on the gloves he climbed up to join the man.

"Hi, I'm Artemis Deco, call me Artie" he said with what he hoped was not a nervous looking smile. Perhaps doing something like this could take his mind off other things going on.

"So, what do you need me to do?" he asked. "And whose Y wing is this?"

"Airen Vehn, plane captain to Louise Vehn," Airen replied, "my wife. Let me tell you being married to a pilot isn't all it's cracked up to be. But enough of that. I need you to help me lift this turret housing out of its socket. The traverse mechanism has been faulty since the wishbone arrived. I just haven't had the time, until now, to do anything about the matter."

Airen knelt beside the cannons and began to use a wrench to dismantle the mounting brackets which were in turn held in place by thick durasteel bolts. He jerked his head toward Artie. "Grab a spanner," Airen said, jerking his head toward a nearby toolbox. There were six mounting brackets on a Y-Wing turret. They all had to be carefully loosened, one at a time in a star pattern position, so as to prevent the stripping of the bolts and the proper unseating of the housing.

"This is a far cry from my former line of work,"Airen whistled as he struggled to get the first bolt off.

Artie could not help but let a big grin cross his face. She'd made it! He let his memories drift back a little, bandaging her up after she'd been tortured, chatting in the heat, stopping her nearly going outside and getting herself shot (and nearly getting thwacked for it).

He remembered her also telling him about her ex husband and losing her child. It seemed she had a happy time since she had returned by getting married to Airen.

Retrieving a spanner he climbed back up and started to get to work on one of the bolts, as he was lacking in strength it was a bit of a struggle.

"I know Louise er…Lou from Son Tay. I was at the prison camp for a while before she arrived. I helped her out a bit, she was kind and nice to me unlike some residents at the camp and the interrogators".

"I'm glad she got out. I got wounded and never knew what happened to anyone after I got taken away" he was really sweating now with trying to get this bolt off he looked up and smiled "Congratulations on getting married, she deserves to be happy after what happened".

"So what did you do before this?"

"Son Tay," Airen grunted, "that place destroyed Lou. I've spent weeks getting her back. Trying to, anyways. We kinda had a fast wedding. A way to heal past the trauma of that place. I remember she mentioned you several times. I'd think when she gets back from her mission she'd love to see you. Catch up. She said you helped her get through some rough times there. I can't thank you enough."

Airen paused as he twisted off one of the bolts.

"Corroded little thing," Airen groaned as he began to start on the next one, "Lou still talks about Son Tay. Not to me, not when we're awake. It's the nightmares. The cold sweats. She wakes up screaming sometimes and it's all I can do to hold her tight. I also wake up after she falls asleep and remove any weapons nearby. Anything she could use to accidentally hurt herself or someone else. Dr. Raynor, ship's doctor, has been working with her but sometimes I wonder if the therapy is really helping or if it's just a waste of time."

Airen continued to work on the second bolt. Just a little bit more.

"I used to be an Imperial officer. I served on Jedha and then the Death Star before it was blown up. I served with Lou's brother. We stole a shuttle and fled Imperial service when he became mortally wounded during the Rebel attack at Yavin. Lucky thing too as the hangars weren't in lockdown yet. We managed to get away. Go back to his home world of Roon. He died in my arms with Lou nearby. It was his dying wish that I help run the family property with her. We didn't always get along, hell we still don't, but eventually we came to an understanding. I guess that's what you call an understanding. A marriage, right?"

"Enough about me," Airen said as Artie continued to plug away, "what about you? How'd you wind up in all this mess? How'd you end up on Sontay?"

Artie had to smile that Lou still remembered him, he even blushed a little as Airen spoke kindly about him as well as Lou.

But his expression turned worried, sad even as Airen recounted Lou's troubles. He knew all about the nightmares, he still had them too even while recovering before being transferred here. And Airen had a tough time too. There were always rumours of defectors going around and now he'd officially met two of them, the other being Joy.

Artie managed to get the first bolt off on his end and wiped his brow with his clothed arm before moving on.

"I wouldn't know about marriage or relationships, I mean er…never had anything romantic in my life. But hey if you are happy and love each other, I guess that's a good marriage right?. I'm glad Lou still remembers me and would love to have a chat. And thank you for your…thanks it's much appreciated"

He tried to get at the other bolt, his muscles beginning to protest "As for my story? Well as you can tell from my accent I'm Commenori. Typical boy when I was younger, wanting adventure and heading out into the stars. Spent my time in speeders with friends pulling risky moves".

"Dad helped me fly the family craft, took a while but got better at it. Then the Empire came along and I wanted to give some karma back because of all the horrid things they did. So against my parents wishes I joined the Rebellion and fancied flying Y wings for the reason that they were the workhorses and packed a punch".

"Completed training, just as I was really nervous about going into a war. Did some what would be considered risky moves during training which got me reprimanded a few times. Then came my first mission, protecting a Rebel transport carrying cargo".

He shivered "Got ambushed by Imperials and had to try my best to protect my squadron and the transport. Stupidly decided to try another risky move and ended up getting hit and then tractored. Why capture a fighter pilot? Who knows".

He was really straining with this bolt, almost there "Got interrogated, that was nasty. Ended up unconscious as I didn't tell them anything and then the next thing I know there is searing heat. Get interrogated again and tortured and told I'm on Son Tay. The rest they say is history".

He wasn't sure he should recount what happened to him there, it brought back too many bad memories "Long story short I tried to escape and got hit in the leg badly. That has healed but the mental and physical scars from there will still be with me, especially the physical ones. I like Lou still have nightmares too".

"Anyways, what's going on around here? Everyone seems so harassed…."

Airen nodded his head as he processed Artie's story. So unique to him but also very much like others he'd talked to who'd been on the other end of the Imperial boot. SonTay had done numbers on the POWs who'd come back. So much still to process. So much healing to work through. It wasn't going to be fixed overnight, either.

"The Intrepid hasn't gotten a break in a long time," Airen pointed out, "the Empire has been hitting us hard every chance they get. Between ambushes and rumours of spies this entire place has gotten dangerously suspicious. Now the droids are malfunctioning due to the virus and everyone is on edge. Trust is not easily given but it is easily broken."

Airen paused as he looked around the hangar. It was still chaos despite his own best efforts to maintain a sense of peace amidst the storm.

"You got that last bolt, well done. Grab the turret base here and help me lift it out of the socket. We'll have to be careful not to pull too hard or we'll dislodge the wiring connections. Ready, one..two..three," Airen commanded as he and Artie worked on lifting the turret up and out of its mount.

Artie had to concentrate as he helped pull up the turret and he was already beginning to struggle with the weight. So it wasn't a technical malfunction…

"Virus? What….virus?" Artie managed to get out. "And rumours of spies? What the hell?"

Why did people have to spread such rumours and even do such things as release a virus?

"You said it," Airen grunted as they set the turret in front of its housing on the cockpit roof in the direction of the pilot's seat. He disconnected the wiring harness and the wires, bound together at two foot intervals in wrapping, came out with the turret resting lazily inside the hole right above where the gunner typically sat. They dangled harmlessly.

Airen frowned as he ran a gloved hand around the durasteel ring that formed part of the turret housing. "Sabotage, Artie. Sabotage. It's the name of the game in war. Both sides want to win. Well, in the Empire's case they just want to subjugate. I'm not sure what victory means to them, any longer. We have a leak on this ship. So I hear. I don't know much about that kind of thing. I just keep my head down and turn my spanner."

Airen returned his attention to the hole where the turret once was. "There's no seal here. It's a miracle both pilots didn't die from venting oxygen into the void. We'll need to replace the seal as well as get this heavy scoring from all the battles this thing has been in off the inside rim here. Use this tool and scrub as hard as you can. The scoring should start to flake off. Don't worry about making a mess in the cockpit, I'll clean that up later."

Airen handed Artie what amounted to a nail brush. Some good old sweat equity was about to be had here.

Artie was already breathing hard and red in the face from getting the bolts off and then handling the turret. Now there was going to be scrubbing involved. To let some of the heat out of his flight suit he unzipped his jumpsuit a little. This revealed a couple of scars on his chest area, nothing could be done about those due to the fact he didn't get near a bacta tank until after Son Tay.

As he started scrubbing he was about to ask why someone would do that but then thought that was a stupid question to ask.

"So do you think this is all linked? The sabotage and the fact there is a leak? Could someone have decided to do this as maybe revenge?"

Airen remained fixated on the turret. He began to clean the gun barrels to remove any scoring there before proceeding to double check the wiring to make sure there weren't any frayed ends or splits starting to show in the casing.

"Artie," Airen paused as he looked the younger man in the eyes, "if there's one thing I've learned about the Intrepid it's that everything is linked. Nobody goes to the bathroom on this ship without someone finding out. I mean the Intrepid is ex-Imperial. I'm ex-Imperial. The way that government gets on your mind its....evil. You see anything weird, out of the ordinary, you make sure to report it to your superior officer. In this case it's Lou."

Artie continued scrubbing, sweat nearly pouring off him but he stopped as Airen looked at him.

Lou was his boss, got it. And he knew about the Empire being evil, he had the scars to prove it. But the way Airen was talking, it worried him a bit that he would be constantly watched whilst aboard.

"Got it" he simply said "but the way you talk about us being watched whilst we are aboard. I know we have to look out for spies and traitors but…it just feels weird that we are being constantly watched. I thought the Empire did all that".

He sighed "I just hope this gets all sorted soon. I would like to meet the others of the squadron and maybe in not so suspicious times".

"The Empire does do all that. I think there's enough people around here, however, that are either ex-Imperial or were from partisan groups that fought the Empire or were subjugated by them that the tension is pretty high. Look, I don't think there's going to be a problem. Be yourself, settle in, make a few friends, you'll be fine. Tensions are just running amok as the sabotaging is coming out in full force, two people were shot and wounded in the hangar recently, and this darn virus is making life hell for all of us who make our living with our hands," Airen replied.

Airen finished cleaning the gun barrels. He nodded in approval as Artie finished up cleaning the carbon scoring. He reached nearby for the replacement seal and began to install it along the inner ring of the turret. When that was done he wiped his hands and shook his head, "I never thought I'd be doing what I'm doing now. Come on, Artie, help me get this turret back into the housing and we'll tighten those bolts."

The two men, in reverse order, reconnected the wiring harness to the appropriate cable and slowly moved the turret back into its housing.

"Let's finish this thing up," Airen said, "and then if the hangar doors open up I'll go buy you a drink. We have a new droid who is quite the personality. Its drink abilities are second to none and its taste of music is real good."

Artie helped Airen with his work, moving the turret back making his arms wobble due to the heaviness and his aching muscles.

"I hope I make some friends here, I know Lou already so it's a good start" he chuckled. "I've always been socially awkward when I meet new people, I've been like that since I was a kid. But hopefully the others won't mind, especially since I may come out with things that sound awkward".

He gathered the bolts up he had taken out earlier "A drink sounds good but I'm not an alcoholic drinker, I know it's boring right? But I got drunk once at my aunt's wedding and after that I thought never again. So hopefully he has soft drink options. But he sounds interesting and I do like a bit of music".

He smiled "But it would be nice to be more social with people, including you. You seem like a nice guy, from the short time I've known you".

Airen laughed and shook his head, "You're all right in my book, Artie. You've got a good heart and an even better head on your shoulders. I think you'll fit in just fine around here."

The work was done.

Artie smiled as the work was finished "Thanks Airen" he sniffed himself again "I hope the hangar opens soon, I really need a shower…"

TAG: @Vehn , Anyone

 

IC: R2-MA16 "Digger,"
Intrepid hull, debris field

Digger transmitted the information from the clandestine comms array back to his pilot, and waited to hear what she wanted him to do. She’d certainly want to know more about it. Calmly, he unclamped the device from the tull, tipping it to look at the internal components. There were several conduits leading back in to the ship, two supplying power, and one which was a data transmission port, a hard wire to carry information along a secure line. An old ISB station built into the carrier?

He carefully inserted a small tool on to one of his internal probes, configured it, and gently pressed it into the juncture where it met the device. Perhaps he could pick up anything being transmitted? What he got back, however, was a countdown. Fourteen…thirteen…twelve… That was ominous. Perhaps the memory would wipe itself? And his pilot would never have a shot at learning who the mole was.

…eight…seven…

Digger transmitted his own number. One thousand, two hundred…one thousand, one hundred and ninety-nine…one thousand, one hundred and ninety-eight…

While the device stuttered through the new and conflicting information, he carefully severed the two power conduits, and did a scan of the device. There was something among the circuits, and the usual… he removed the internal cover and chirped in alarm. An explosive!? Not large, but it would damage him! It was wired into the memory circuitry. No, that would not do.

He removed the hardwired comms cord, continuing to transmit his own countdown

One thousand, one hundred and twenty-three…one thousand, one hundred and twenty-two…one thousand, one hundred and…

He began to pull the explosive component out, but of course it was welded securely to the device casing. So frustrating. Instead, he carefully used the small laser cutter to cut the connection to the command circuitry, isolating the explosive from the rest of the case. Then, he cut around the explosive casing, isolating and removing it. To be safe, he used an extension arm to fling it away from the ship into space, just in case there was an internal switch to set it off. The rest of the comms array he carefully reassembled, shutting down everything. The memory core seemed to be intact. He placed a data extractor cylinder into the data conduit opening and set it to run.

He chirped to the others. He needed to deliver this to his pilot, and then he would return to help them complete the repairs.


TAG: @Vehn, Anyone else

 

IC: Zero Maderas
Intrepid Bridge
Zero pulled the electronic lever that controlled the Intrepid's bridge door, metal gears clanked as the sealed door shuddered open, much to the slicer's impatient foot-tapping. He hopped through with his toolkit and datapad, before the door closed with a quick, loud clang; the youth took in the sight of the bridge itself. It was a massive room with windows overseeing the black void, computer arrays were everywhere and below, Zero wiped his sweaty brow at the sight of it. Cracking his knuckles, the slicer took the nearest computer that stood before him; a elongated digital board with various screens and ports for connecting ship datapads. Dibs on the Captains computer, hope he doesn't mind me hacking into the main nerve in this bridges system.

Opening his kit and connecting his datapad to the massive computer board by one of its tinier connector ports, Zero also dugout his satellite tool and attached it as well. "Okay then, let's override those weapons systems shall we?" Zero mumbled, he then clicked on a select code into his datapad, before bearing witness to the internals of the Intrepid's main bridge computer. In place of the virus's former screaming that could peel ones ears, the slicer was surprised to find that the red infection was now a droning purple. His pad shuddered as he saw the screen he connected to made a monotone noise, almost akin to a angered reek. "Seems like you wised up to me eh? Let's check what you have for me then..."

Clicking in his satellite tool, Zero bored through the newfound purple sea as his ears were bombarded with the droning electronic growl; it's pitch raised at every glancing second. Though, the sudden ease at which he was burrowing into the virus infected pages was concerning, the previous incarnation at least gave him some challenge at hand. This shouldn't be this easy, last time drilling had me sweating bullets, somethings up The slicer shook his head at the matter, the purple virus seemed to have the same corroding effect as before if not improved by the last period.

Then as he passed by several systems monitoring shields, he struck a wall that was a lighter shade of purple accompanied by a painful digital screech.

"SWEET HUTTLETS!" Zero exclaimed in shock as his datapad shuddered as did the long bridge computer; his satellite tool started to spin as the digital screeching pitched. To the slicer's shock, his boring tool was halted by an array of ship protection locks, six-walled security capable of giving frak to most lowly hackers in the regular circuit.

But unlike most locks, these ones were corroded and changed from their regular blue hue to that of a light purple; lettering was glitched while the locks were all bunching the screen in a shield formation. Frak! This is not the norm for viruses, this little bugger has blocked me from the weapons control and infected it's protection Zero clacked a set code for his satellite tool to cool it's overdrive, not wanting it to short-circuit against the newly encountered virus-wall.

Zero then dug into his toolkit, digging around for the proper tool that wouldn't compromise his comrades security and the weapons itself; his mind was focused on keeping this clean and safe. Albeit clean and safe on a timer, the weapons could activate at any moment, his hands furiously pilfered past various objects in search of his secret weapons. My former cure code can't clear security and my drill will fry itself trying to plow past one security encryption, I need some real heavy power to reach the weapons access in time for override....or else we accidentally gain attention.

TAG: @Vehn , @Mistress_Renata , @Sarge , @AgentViper007 , and anyone else by the bridge...

 

Maxime “Max” Pallas
Black Sheep Nerve Center

She was working on her datapad. Pulling up the ship’s access input sent some sketchy responses, and it seemed the virus had possibly spread to the Intrepid as a whole. Max sighed, wondering how that had happened. She was tempted to go in and take a look, but Zero was assigned to it, and while she had her doubts about him, she had bigger porgs to fry.

She was rooting around in old files, backtracking over all her earlier data and investigations on her ‘clean’ pad, looking for what she’d gleaned for the Naboo mission. Wallings had been so vague that she’d gone crazy, trying to learn more about the wedding so they didn’t go in entirely blind. She found something that Kayn had sent her, a passenger manifest of some sort, when her comm buzzed.

“H..help…me…” Max frowned. It was on the squadron comms channel, and it was Khairn’s voice. Now what?

“Boss? What’s up? Where are you?” There was no response. She glanced across at Hollymander, who looked equally puzzled. Vermilion had disappeared somewhere, leaving the other two to try to backtrack over the records of the Naboo mission. Hollymander didn’t actually have more than Max, which was a disappointment. Max commed Husk, who was, as far as she knew, still the acting squadron leader.

“Captain? Did you get that? Some kind of distress call from Commader Khairn. He hasn’t been in Sheep Territory lately; I don’t know where he would be. I’m headed out to try to find him.” She glanced at Hollymander. “I’ll try his quarters; can you check the medical bay? If I don’t find him in quarters, I’ll try the hangar. He’s not here or in the ready room, we already know that.”

She headed out the door, flicking her commlink again. “Commander? Where are you? I’m on my way.” He might be a pain in the exhaust port, but...she was still his wingmate.


TAG: @Vehn, @Adalia-Durron, @adaml83

 

IC: Zero Maderas
A Shot in The Dark
Zero almost felt like shooting himself after seeing it at the bottom of his toolkit, picking up the long grey cylinder that had gathered mothballs for several years.

He remembered using it with her back in the day, back when times were more happier, if only they ended happy as well. Zero picked up the long since ignored code cylinder from the toolkit, the device was venerable and downright ancient, the tool was a old "Civil War" model that the Republics former clone armies would carry. Yet, unlike those that only carried intel or rare passwords, Zero had stashed in something that was very lethal to ship systems if not properly coded and implemented. The slicer shuddered as he remembered his first and only failure coding the thing inside the cylinder, he could remember the screeching of dying computers on the walls of a Imperial bank.

"But now is not the time for regrets or bad memories, I need you once more to bypass and allow me into the viral weapons systems" Zero then took off his satellite tool on his datapad, before swapping it with the cylinder. His eyes glared at the droning purple infected computer, it's corroded protection beaming at him mockingly. "Let's rock..."

Upon turning the cylinder tight in his datapad socket, a small silvery node appeared on his screen and he opened it; a textbox appeared before him that read as clearly:

{PLEASE IMPLEMENT PASSCODE FOR TOTAL CLOSE AND REBOOT!}

Maxine, Kayn, Anyone else onboard....be ready for some slight turbulence and blackouts, Zero then began to press a series of codes into the node with focused speed; his mind remembered the beats like always. Inside the cylinder was a unstable but effective, security shut-down switch that could cut-off computer defenses for one hour; slicers barely used the switch tool as it tended to also have the nasty habit of shutting off ships for five seconds or...permanently. That paled in comparison to regular terminals though, heck, even droids could be lobotomized by one foul mistake on his part. But I have no time for mistakes, this must work, I must do it for them. After the fifth and six passcode implemented on the textbox, Zero had one more, he paused for a second.

Until he then shook his sweating head, and clicked on his digital keyboard.

"Okay implementing code 1997.B13889.000." Zero punched in the last digits as the textbox disappeared, before his screen shuddered violently, then it faded to black in a flash. Maderas dreaded the next portion, as he heard all the computers shudder in perfection cohesion and screens started to individually shut off one by one, including the captains computer he was connected to as well.

Intrepid then blacked out itself, lights blacked out around him and a faint rumbling shook below him.

For a few minutes, Zero could only hear himself breath as the quiet spooked him and he pondered death taking him before.....

The lights flashed on, followed by the choir of rebooting computers still droning with the virus; Zero Maderas gazed at the sight as if he saw the Force in person and it invited him for a drink. "Great Gods!" Zero's datapad then flickered back on with a slight shade of purple, he was still connected to the same page with one small difference. "That blasted security wall is gone!"

Before him laid a corroded screen that controlled the weapons systems, now devoid of the once protective security wall, the latter now shut-off temporarily for a single hour. That hour was all Zero needed to devise a plan to override the system, if only he knew how the rebels coded the system that is....

TAG: @Vehn , and anyone else who wants to react to this risky move (Virus Creator Included!)

 

IC: Lieutenant Louise "Lou" Vehn/Laylee Wyrock AKA "Bones"/Akiva Lurell/Lawrence "Law" Clark
Dreadnaught Scimitar

As the engines had come to life, Wyrock had sucked deeply on her nic stick, blowing out a ring of smoke. She tapped a few dials and gauges to be sure that the beast was rousing from its slumber before she felt satisfied that it was truly beginning to work as it should. The three orbs she’d let loose gathered close, settling on her artificial forearm, chirping and tweeting.

The creeping worry about the starweird returning had faded as she worked and the scrubbers in the engine bay had filtered out most of what she figured was some weird incense that Akiva had been using earlier so the air was clearer. Which was when the intercom crackled and she heard the voice of the pilot, asking them to join her on the bridge.

Closing her teeth on the nic stick, ”What in the Nine Hells do I know about running a capital ship?” she muttered fiercely. Packing up her tools in the still mangled backpack, she hefted it over one shoulder before she looked over at her companion. ”Hey Lobo…do you know how to fly one of these things? Hope one of us does or this will be a very short, very loud and painful flight.” she called out before tilting her cap back slightly, picking up her wrench, and heading for the exit of the engine compartment.

Once the engines came back to life Akiva breathed for what felt like the first time since this mission had gone sideways. Seeing the incense that had grown heavy and thick in the air from how long they had been working begin to be circulated and drawn out was a welcome sight. Now they just needed to get the ship moving before that thing returned and they would be fine. Probably should dip a gravity well just to be safe, but they were on their way. . .

Why weren't the engines showing drive output? Was something still broken? Then the comm crackled and they were summoned. If she didn't know how to fly a capital ship why had she gone to the bridge? Shaking her head she brushed the notion away as she gathered her tools in a bundle of her ruined back and used a synth rope to tie it into a secure bundle while Wyrock showed just how stressful this whole thing had been by calling her someone else's name. "Akiva or Wolf." she firmly replied as she followed after her. "I know how to fly some capital ships, no idea if this is laid out or as intuitive as what I know." Hopefully this would be laid out like any of the Rebel or Imp capital ships she had taken goggle courses on in the event of being a sole survivor or needing to steal to escape lessons.

Lou felt a sense of relief as Wyrock and Akiva appeared on the bridge. The bridge doors sealed shut behind them.

"Bridge secure," Clark stated after checking out a few of the side corridors that shot out from the main command center.

Lou waved Akiva over and said, "You familiar with any of these systems? This is borderline ancient tech to me. I have no idea why they gave me this mission. Hardly my area of expertise."

Lou paused and glanced over in Wyrock's direction. "How about you take a good hard look at our hyperdrive capabilities. I don't want to be caught out here flat footed."

Wyrock was still chuckling at Akiva’s response to the nickname she’d given her, ’Lobo is Wolf, Wolf is Lobo, makes sense to me.’ she thought to herself as they entered the bridge.

The doors shutting and locking behind them made her look back over her shoulder at the hatch, snorting at the seeming necessity of it. Then again…she shrugged…better that the flygirl leading this venture not have to get up and fight, be able to help her and…Shaggy…nah, wouldn’t work…Wolf be able to steer this beast.

At the question the three orbs lifted off, drifting over several consoles before hovering over one as they whistled to her. She turned to Lou, ”Well…pretty gal…” she drawled as she reached into her pack, pulling out something wrapped in a handkerchief. ”...unless homebase has a spare of one of these it’ll be a short trip.” she said, unwrapping the handkerchief to expose a detachable part of the hyperdrive rent almost in half by three claw marks.

She nodded over at the console, ”Huey, Dewey, and Louie say that there’s enough left to the hyperdrive for one jump but without this…” she lifted the damaged part, ”...installed we’ll need a whole new hyperdrive after that jump. Big, big, shaking thump after the jump. Like make you bounce out of the seat and smack your pretty head on the ceiling sized thump.” she said, grinning as though the thought of that was humorous to her.

Turning then, she wandered over to join her three hovering droids.

Akiva stood there, shaking her head as she dropped her bag of tools on the deck. This was just - it was, oh she needed a vacation from this war! Muttering some colorful dialogue in her native tongue she paced the bridge, looking at the different consoles. Some things luckily didn't change that much, this ship didn't predate the Republic and the Empire was the mutated monster of that Republic. So some things had carried over for simplicities sake.

"Maybe." she said with a shrug. Pointing with her hands she indicated four different consoles, and then shifted two arms to two others. "Things are spread out for more manpower to make it go. I can maybe console hop to get this thing going and plot a jump, but unless you can transfer multiple controls and you two make yourselves useful-" she shrugged fluidly all four shoulders, "I'm not a hundred percent I can time it to all work properly. Only thing working for us is that space is pretty empty."

Lou slid into one of the four consoles. She examined the powered up display in front of her and began to study the readout. It wasn't very clear what this particular station was assigned to do. It had data on shields, navigation, and the current status of the ship's engines. Any accessing of the sub routines was off limits. An idea came to her. Something she read from long ago.

"Weren't these old dreadnaughts slave run? I mean a master console and the automated systems flowed from that? They weren't supposed to be crewed as heavily as other ships from what I remembered. Something about making the design more versatile. Shouldn't there be a master console nearby?"

Wyrock shrugged when the crazy pilot all but ignored what she’d found. She had her own supplies, what were left of them, tucked away in her toolbox that would help if things went nuts. And then she’d just wait as she figured that the city boy wouldn’t let his crew chief be stuck in the void.

She tucked the part back in the bag then walked over to the console that her droids were hovering over. Pulling it from one thigh pouch, she tapped a series of commands on her datapad causing one of the droids to zip around the bridge. After a few moments, it hovered by one of them close to Lou, whistling at Wyrock. Without looking up from the console she was at, monitoring the engine specs she lifted her robotic arm, one finger pointing at the console, ”That one seems the most likely suspect, crazy lady.” she said.

"Right," Lou said still not sure how to respond to Wyrock. Clearly busting rear wasn't going to work. She figured that charming her way to Wyrock wasn't going to work either. Maybe bribery? A fresh pack of nic sticks? Some unique flavor? A rare bottle of alcohol? A new spanner?

"Let's see here," Lou said as the found the right console only after Wyrock had pointed it out to her. Lou felt like she was really living up to her butter bars. Or playing down. She wasn't sure which at this point.

Lou hit a button on the console and the bridge lights came to life. She hit another button and the blast doors opened and remained that way. That startled the Marines who immediately raised their weapons to cover the Sheep's six. She studied the console a bit more and realized that navigation was controlled separately but shield power, weapons, and broader ship commands flowed he way. So maybe not everything ran through one console but enough of the systems could with a little help.

"Doing a hyper jump at this point isn't going to work," Lou said, "but I'd like to take her out for a spin. Wyrock, you think she can handle the strain? Akiva, I think that one over there is navigation if this display on my end looks correct. I could use your help steering this baby back to the Intrepid."

Akiva went to a chair one console over that apparently, they wouldn't need and tied down her tool bag. Then heading over to the indicated console she gave it a once over. "I would like to protest. There is a ghost in the area that damaged the hyperdrive, I don't personally care how hard we will all be shaken we need to get to a planetary body - yesterday."

While talking she began spooling up the ships engines and getting them under motion. "Intrepid could meet us there and get out of this relic site, hopefully get a repair crew and make this ship serviceable wherever there is." Already she was running a navigation system ping to see how old the systems star charts were. "Just need to update the nav computer, and we should be clear." she added in a softer tone as she was mentally trying to run the best way to a friendly planetary body.

Taking off her hat, jamming it into a cargo pocket of her pants, Wyrock rummaged around in her bent tool bag for a few moments, finally pulling out a battered helmet with an enlarged ring around the neck. Putting out the nic stick, tossing it in the bag, she jammed the helmet on her head, pressed a stud, the ring seemed to melt and flow, down her torso and then to her extremities. When it had covered her completely, the vocorder sounded, ”Okay, I’m set, but you’re both crazy. Closest planet is there. And no hyperjump necessary…” she said, pointing to the planet beyond the breaker’s yard. ”But yeah, let’s jump somewhere that the Intrepid and that other ship don’t know…”

Lou sighed. She was beginning to regret Wyrock coming along for this little adventure. Sure, she knew her stuff, Lou could give her that much. The attitude was a killjoy. Despite all that Lou recognized that Wyrock was one of the more knowledgeable mechanics. In a pinch, and this was certainly a pinch, she was going to come in handy. Game, after all, recognized game. Lou was no piece of cake herself. She'd been through a bunch.

Wyrock had her uses.

"Let's stay off the hyperdrive for now," Lou said giving a nod in Wyrock's direction, "let's instead focus on getting the engines right and moving beyond the debris field. Akiva, you're on navigation. Ease us outta here and let's take the Scimitar for a stroll."

Lou hoped the shields would hold as she heard bits of metal clinging and clanging off the deck. This ship hadn't operated in who knew how long and it was anyone's guess if she could hold it all together as she maneuvered through the debris field.

"Watch out for that drydock," Lou pointed out.

Wyrock grunted at Lou’s comment, letting Akiva steer the ship if she was the one doing so. Her attention was focused on the Engineering panel that her droids had brought her to. She’d opened the visor of the helmet she had on, the smoke from her puffing on her nic stick was rising into the air like an angry cloud, as she went from readout to readout, occasionally punching a command into the computer to bring one part or another under the redline again. This was an old beast and, even with her fixes, they’d need some very good large ship engine monkeys once they got back to the Intrepid to go over everything and find out what needed to be replaced or repaired better.

Which reminded her…she pulled her datapad out of her thigh pocket. Quickly, she sent off a message to Feral, so he knew there was a ship coming out of the breaker’s yard and that she as well as the others were aboard. He was out there somewhere, had said something about testing out the Defender they’d taken, with his girlfriend. She hoped that, with the information she sent him, if this thing cracked apart he’d still know where to find her. The message sent she let out a curse that colored the air around her, quickly tapping the panel and then sighing as the engines temperature gauges slipped back under the redline.

Growling softly Akiva settled into the seat, her four arms dancing over the controls. She scouted out the field of debri and plotted a course. . .and then scrapped it as she remembered to reference the actual size of this thing. Not surprisingly it was larger than a B-wing, go figure. Scrapping the one plan she set about preplanning a path.

After looking at the debris and spinning the field on the display she settled on a course out of it. "Alright, it won't be perfectly clear. If we have shields use them, otherwise keep it locked up and close blast screens. . .here we go." she added with a heavy sigh as she set the engines to begin a slow but steady push on her pre-planned vectored.

The Scimitar groaned as its engines helped propel the aging dreadnaught out of the debris field. The vibrations through the deck made Lou a bit nervous. A big ship like this was supposed to feel smooth. Like floating on a quiet lake. This experience, however, was completely different. She couldn't help but grip her seat as the dreadnaught gained speed. The aging sensors pinged away at the debris field identifying countless other wrecks and floating pieces of junk. If anyone was observing them, or simply tracking them, they were not doing anything to hide their presence.

"Push the engines, Wyrock," Lou ordered as the Scimitar cleared the debris field, "we need to know if she can handle combat operations."

Two massive keels loomed before them forming one perimeter of the debris field. The Scimitar was headed right toward them. They were closing fast. Lou squirmed a little in her seat.

"Akiva, start plotting evasive maneuvers. Let's see if she can still accept a good shakedown," Lou added.

”On it. Hang on, going to need to…” Wyrock muttered. A short period of back and forth went on between her and the three orbs, before they darted toward the other, unoccupied consoles.

When the droids were in position, they tied in to the consoles, beeping at her, ”Going to take offline all systems except grav, life support here, and the engines so I can keep them going.” she told Lou as the creaking and groaning of the old ship increased.

”And, there we go! This should be….fun!” she said, taking hold of the console with her artificial hand as the engines poured out more power, the ship accelerating.


Akiva turned in her seat as Wyrock got to work with her droid balls and stared at Lou in disbelief. Shakedown cruise?!? This ship felt like it was going to shake apart and Lou wanted her to put it through it's paces? "Aye aye, captain." she gave a flimsy salute with one hand before turning around to her console.

As soon as Wyrock gave the all clear she slowly and carefully pulled out a pair of goggles and set her rebreather back into place. "Let's see if we fall apart." with that she began trying to put the ship through a convoluted corkscrew to end in a flip to turn the ship around and perform a turn and burn.

Tag: @darthbernael; @Mitth_Fisto (Was fun!)