STAR WARS: INTERVENTION


It is one year before the Battle of Yavin. Welcome to The Mercs. You?ve been contracted by the peaceful Republic of Watava. It?s been two months of boredom stationed on the Mid Rim Planet and you?re starting to worry about the score board back at Port Haven that the Aces Club keeps score on. But things are about to change?finally.

On the woods-covered planet, across the Ocean Divide, is the militaristic Country of Lim, the Republic of Watava?s arch enemy. For decades, both nations have been on edge with each other and the boiling of tempers has reached a climax as the Country of Lim has started forcing your merchant boats and fishermen from the neutral waters of the Ocean Divide---the reason why The Mercs were called in two months ago, to help boaster a weaker Watava Air and Space Fighter Force (WASFF) against the military superior Lim Fighter Wing (LFW) in the case war broke-out. As tensions between the two nations, over natural resources on the planet, reach a critical point and break, shots are fired. You?re about to earn you?re paycheck.

For Captain Rick Taller and The Mercs, the going has been tough the last year. Not that contracts are hard to come by, for everyone has a deal to settle with someone and doesn?t want to spill the blood themselves, that?s where The Mercs come into?for a price tag. And the surplus of requests to take out Imperial targets by people who oppose the Galactic Empire is by far bringing in the credits, especially by the Rebel Alliance who makes the call to The Mercs on a weekly basis it seems like. But, the coast and resulting guilt that Rick Taller sees everyday is far heavier to carry then any amount of credits can replace. Just two weeks ago, he had to burry another young recruit, who was blasted to space debris in a space battle over a droid-operated deep space mining station. He was too young to die, just like Dog was too close of a friend to loose the month before that, the one who the young recruit at eighteen had replaced. Death and the guilt of sending young men and women into battle for credits has taken its toll over the years and Rick Taller is ready to get out and retire. He fought for the Old Republic in the Clone Wars and enough is enough, it?s time for someone else to topple Emperor Palpatine and Darth Vader. He?s tired of feeling like the bringer of death for everyone he?s around.

But before the battle begins, a red gem is found by accident. Rick has a feeling that this red gem is not just a gem at all, but part of the Red Rock itself as legend has it. And if legend is true, he and The Mercs can retire happily and he can stop sending people to their death for credits?because he and The Mercs will be living the high life until their old days. But there?s a problem, the Galactic Empire wants the Red Rock too.

Finally, after months and months of searching, Imperial Security Bureau Investigator Hilick Soal finally has some results for Emperor Palpatine. Given the personal assignment by the Emperor himself to investigate and find if the legend is true and if so, recover the legendary Red Rock. Well, the old wives? tale is anything but a tale it seems like and Hilick Soal can see a promotion and pay raise, as well as royalties and awards from Emperor Palpatine, in the near future. His family would be very well off after this mission was completed and his brother?his brother could finally be healed and made well again.

But as events unfold, The Mercs are pressed into an almost suicidal attempt to stop a rumored new Imperial super-weapon at the Fondor Shipyards. Rumor or not, The Mercs and the Galactic Empire are in a race against time and against other mercenary groups and bounty hunters who want the Red Rock. But will the rumored Imperial super-weapon see the destruction of The Mercs and the Red Rock with them before the Galactic Empire can recover the legendary energy source and healing source?

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

Background


Welcome to Star Wars: Intervention! This game is based on The Mission Impossible RPG (Liste

Ramza Edit: Locked at GM request.

 

Please refer to Intro Page about the details of this post. Thank you.


Storyline Post One


Planet of Watava, 3961 B.B.Y.


Sparks flew around in the cockpit, warning alarms still blinking; a strong smell of acid smoke filled the small interior. Coughing, Isic looked around, finally coming to after the tumbling fall from space to the wood-covered planet below. The last thing he remembered was dropping through the planet?s atmosphere, a trail of smoke from his engines; after his starfighter?s fiery entry into the planet?s atmosphere, a series of laser blasts from an enemy starfighter on his tail all but destroyed any control the young pilot had, sending his already damaged fighter into a deadly spiral towards the ground below. His spin was too fast for a safe ejection and even if he could eject, he couldn?t with the system being fried. He was sure this would be his last seconds as he crashed through woods? upper canopy.

He didn?t understand how he was alive, but he didn?t care at the moment; if he didn?t hurry and get out of the cockpit, he wouldn?t have any more time to think about how he survived anyways. The acid smoke was filling the cockpit and soon he would be dead from a lack of oxygen.

He tried to push the canopy open and it didn?t move. With frustration, he started to push harder and harder, soon resorting to screaming at certain death as he pounded at the canopy with oxygen rapidly disappearing in the cockpit. Soon, he heard a click and suddenly he felt a rush of air into the canopy. Satisfied that the canopy was now open, he pushed it open and crawled out coughing, not knowing how bad he was injured. He fell to the ground in a crumpled mess of pilot uniform and human body. Isic ripped his helmet off and dropped it by the crumpled starfighter; he took a look at his starfighter, a mere mangled mess of metal and wires, the nose of the starfighter all smashed backwards into the ground, while nothing but a shattered mess of burning debris marked what was left of the aft of the fighter; the cockpit was the only part of the fighter that wasn?t smashed. He was lucky, very lucky.

But he couldn?t stop now, starfighter or no starfighter. If ?The Beasts? got hold of what he carried---he glanced into his jumpsuit?s pocket to see the solid red gem still there---then ?The Mandalorian Wars? would be little more then child?s play compared to the coming darkness. Isic doubted even if the famous Jedi Revan and Malak could push back the coming darkness as they had pushed back the Mandalorian invasion thus far. This red gem had already coast the destruction of so much.

The pilot looked up through the green wood canopy, watching as his people?s last naval fleet struggled against The Beasts, their larger black vessels surrounding the much smaller fleet of silver-looking vessels. It was, for that moment, as if all sound stopped and all he saw was the space battle in low orbit above the planet, laser beams flying back and forth in all directions, small ion trails marking where starfighters danced a deadly dance around the capital ships. Suddenly, however, the largest of the silver lined vessels erupted with multiple small explosions all around her and then suddenly exploded, sending fiery debris everywhere.

Isic?s own scream of despair broke the silence, birds of the native planet rising in flight. The young pilot looked down at his gloved hands and muttered, ?All hope is lost. The Queen is dead...what hope do we have...do I have...does the galaxy have...??

He looked back towards the sky, his vision blurred with tears. The battle quickly started to drop towards the planet as it seemed everyone was coming towards...him. No, he thought, The Beasts must have learned that the Queen had given him the red gem to escape with and, he looked back at his starfighter, they were all coming towards the smoke rising from his crashed starfighter.

So much had already been lost and now the Queen was dead and their greatest military vessel now nothing

 

GM Approved!

Name: Janice Toller
Gender: Female
Age: 30
Species: Human
Homeworld: Alderaan
Affiliation: The Mercs

Personality
---Traits: Janice prefers the cautious, skeptical approach to missions, and is reluctant to put herself or others in more danger than she feels is absolutely necessary. She keeps her cool at all times, and is generally perceived as aloof. Nonetheless, she has a strong sense of pride in her combat abilities, and considers herself ?one of the boys.?
---Likes: When everything goes as planned, the occasional glass of Alderaanian brandy, fine tuning her ship to precise specifications
---Dislikes: High risk scenarios, Corellian brandy, when mechanics screw up her ship?s configurations
---Habits: Taps her foot when annoyed

Appearance
---Skin Color: Caucasian
---Hair Color: Black
---Eye Color: Green
---Clothing: Light grey jumpsuit with no insignias, black boots
---Other Attributes: Somewhat thin, with decently good looks
---Other Details: Keeps her hair in a bob cut.

Weapons: DL-44 Heavy Blaster Pistol and spare cartridges, but she generally prefers to avoid man-to-man combat

Starship
---Name: Arc-J
---Class: Customized ARC-170 Starfighter
---Hyperdrive Class: 1.5
---Weapon(s): 2x Medium Forward-mounted laser cannons, 2x rear-mounted laser cannons, 1x Proton Torpedo launcher (8 torpedoes)
---Shields: 5 x 10^16 W
---Sublight Speed: 1000 km/h to 44000 km/h (Shields on)
---Crew: 1 Pilot, 1 R2-series astromech droid
---Passenger(s): None
---Max Cargo (kg): 110 kg
---Interior Description: The Arc-J has been modified to work as a single man fighter, and as such the positions which would have been used to hold the gunner and co-pilot have been altered to hold two additional proton torpedoes, leaving only the pilot?s seat, which has had a rear monitor and weapons controls added. Janice can therefore operate all weapons systems from the pilot seat, albeit manipulating different ones simultaneously is impossible with R2-F6?s assistance
---Other Details: Janice exclusively uses her own astromech, R2-F6, as her R2 unit. The paint job on the Arc-J has been intentionally unmodified with the exception of a small J near the cockpit for identification purposes, in order to prevent the ship from being singled out.

The Force
---Sensitivity: Little to none

Biography
---Personal History: Janice grew up the only daughter of Brann Toller, a well-off former fighter pilot who invested a great deal of time in teaching his daughter the art of piloting after his wife, Fey, died during childbirth. As a result, Janice became an adept pilot at a young age, and as she grew older her skills improved. Brann also taught her a great deal about fighter repair and construction, which she proved to be prodigious in, and her ability to modify and repair craft managed to outpace her piloting skills, albeit only by a small margin.

However, as her talent grew, so did her boredom with Alderaan?s peaceful and idyllic lifestyle, and at 17 she stole her father?s old ARC-170 and the family astromech, R2-F6, and headed off to Coruscant to find work. It was there that she met the leader of The Mercs, Captain Rick Taller. Although it took quite a bit of persuasion and a demonstration of her piloting abilities, he eventually agreed to let her join The Mercs, and she has served loyally ever since. While the constantly shifting ranks and the never-ending proximity to death can prove taxing at times, she could never give up the lifestyle, and is content to serve in the front lines of the fighter squadron for the duration of her days, to the point that she passes up offers to work elsewhere.

---Military History: Twelve years of service with The Mercs, always in fighter squadrons.

---Traumatic Experiences: Janice has lost several good friends and comrades over the years, and while she never shows it, each of them weighs heavily on her spirit. She feels particularly guilty about Geoff Henric, a young recruit who died early into his service days as the result of what Janice fe

 

GM APPROVED

Name: Dernan Vask
Gender: Male
Age: 28
Species: Human
Homeworld: Corellia
Affiliation: The Mercs (until a better offer comes along)

Personality
---Traits: Straightforward, honest, crude, violent, intimidating, not all that bright.
---Likes: A good brawl, a good dogfight, winning, women, credits (not necessarily in that order)
---Dislikes: Not having work, not getting paid, damage to his ship.
---Habits: Working out, cleaning his guns, working on his ship.

Appearance
---Skin Color: Caucasian
---Hair Color: Dark Brown
---Eye Color: Hazel
---Clothing: In cockpit: flightsuit very similar to those worn by Rebel pilots except in black. Out of cockpit: Combat boots, camo pants, t-shirt
---Other Attributes: Tall and muscular.
---Other Details: Sports a neatly trimmed goatee

Weapons: RT-97c heavy blaster rifle http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/RT-97C_heavy_blaster_rifle (Modified with scope) and a DH-23 blaster pistol http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/DH-23_blaster_pistol

Starship
---Name: Jib Jab
---Class: Modified Cloakshape starfighter http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/CloakShape_fighter
---Hyperdrive Class: 2
---Weapon(s): 2 laser cannons, 2 turbolaser cannon,
---Shields: medium
---Sublight Speed: 75mglt or 1150km/h
---Crew: 1
---Passenger(s): none
---Max Cargo (kg): 15kg
---Interior Description: Because he found missiles far too expensive Dernan had the concussion missile tubes pulled from the ship and replaced them with a pair of turbolaser cannons. To support the increased energy requirements he had new (stolen) powerplant installed, which provided enough power to improve the speed and shielding in addition to powering a class 2 hyperdrive. It cut out a fair chunk of his cargo space but Dernan prefers to travel light anyway.
---Other Details: The main body of the Cloakshape is painted black with the wings and rear stabiliser in red.

Biography
---Personal History: Born into a lower-middle class family on Corellia, Dernan, being the eldest of 6 children, dropped out of school early to help support his family after his father?s death. Once he was old enough he joined the Corellian Starfighter Corps, sending most of his pay packet straight home to his mother. It still wasn?t enough.
Whenever he had leave he took whatever jobs he could get, often working as a bouncer for various clubs in Coronet City, and it was on one of these jobs he had his first run in with a mercenary. The merc started a fight in the club and Dernan ended it. Rather painfully for the man involved. The man?s boss was impressed with Dernan?s ability to drop the man and once he discovered that Dernan was a decent pilot he offered him a job on his crew. Since then he?s taken whatever job pays the most. He has no qualms about abandoning, or even betraying, his employer if he can get a better deal elsewhere. It makes him a risky person to hire but his effectiveness on the ground and in the air often make it worthwhile.
---Military History: 3 years in the Corellian Starfighter Corps, 8 years as a professional mercenary
---Traumatic Experiences: Most of the ?traumatic experiences? around Dernan tend to be had by other people. Often because they met him.

 

Bravo Approved


Name: Kailin Veyo

Gender: Female

Age: 25

Species: Human

Homeworld: Raltiir

Affiliation: The Merc

Personality
---Traits: Focused, Determined, Practical and Supportive, Easy to get along with though is prone to snaps of anger in certain situations or if someone winds her up the wrong way. Has a dry sense of humour, is a little self-conscious about her right eye

---Likes: Reading, working out and helping people

---Dislikes: Smokers, Showboaters and Liars

---Habits: Wringing her hands together when thinking

Appearance
---Skin Color: Pale Caucasian

---Hair Color: Fire Red, Medium length, nearly always tied back in a ponytail or bun

---Eye Color: Her left eye is a bright teal, where her right one is paler and slightly discoloured

---Clothing: Navy blue flight suit with a light grey flak vest and grey accents on the sleeves and legs. Underneath this she wears simple black trousers, a grey-blue shirt and dark grey jacket. She also has pouches and a bag with medical supplies inside when she is out in the field. May also be seen in scrubs on some occasions

---Other Attributes: Height: 5ft 4in Tall with an healthy build.

---Other Details: She also has a couple of faded scars around her right eye. And has a pair of worn dog tags that belonged to her late friend that she wears around her neck, which are usually hidden from view

Weapons: Blaster, small vibroknife, scalpel

Starship (Starfighter only---can?t be an X-Wing yet)
---Name: Z-95 Headhunter (Training series)
---Class: Modified Z-95 Headhunter
---Hyperdrive Class: 1.0
---Weapon(s): 2 laser cannons, 2 concussion missile launchers
---Shields: Forward/Rear Projecting XoLyyn Shields.
---Sublight Speed: 85 MGLT
---Crew: 1 pilot
---Passenger(s): N/A
---Max Cargo (kg): 85kg
---Interior Description: Standard controls/basic interior.
---Other Details: N/A

The Force
---Sensitivity: None

Biography

---Personal History:
Kailin was born to a homemaker mother and a renowned doctor father. From a young age she knew she wanted to follow in her father's footsteps, so she worked hard through school and was eventually accepted to a medical school at the age of 18. Her training was cut short however when the empire took control of raltiir, the medical school subsequently changed into an imperial military hospital.

She eventually continued her medical training when she was accepted for a position on the hospital ship Compassion. However, an encounter with a seemingly normal patient changed her life significantly. His name was Darrin, a young pilot who had been brought in by a medical evac ship with serious injuries sustained through starfighter combat.

It would be a long and difficult recuperation but during that time she helped nurse him back to health. It was during this time she heard about the mercs, who they where, what they did, and that he was a merc himself. She found herself becoming interested but couldn?t picture herself fitting in in such a unit. Darrin tried to persuade her to go with him and join up. Although she was very adamant at first, she eventually agreed after finding out the empire continued to swallow up and take control of the medical corps and its resources.

During the early stages of her settling in within the mercs, Darrin and Kailin became close friends. However some would say it may have developed into something more. She was left heartbroken when he was injured in combat again some time later while taking part in a mission. This time he could not be saved.

Still currently with the mercs, serving as a medic on base and a field medic when required. She has recently completed her starfighter training and is hoping to be made an operational pilot soon

---Military Histo

 

OOG: Hey everyone! We still have character sheets rolling in. I wanted to thank everyone who has wanted to join this game so far. GreyJedi and I are really excited about what we can do with this game. I will be getting a character sheet up ASAP, as I'm sure GreyJedi will as well.

Starting this Friday, I'm going to be gone for a week (I'm going to be bringing my laptop with me in case I get internet, but I don't know if I will or not). GreyJedi will be taking over for that week. I'm going to talk with Grey and we might open up posting for the game before this Friday, while allowing new players to join (read intro page regarding new players after the game has started). Just keep in mind, as it looks like from you're character sheets that you all know already, that this game is story-telling based, which works for that week that I'm gone, since it will give everyone time to build the foundations of their stories for their characters and with other players and not have to rush it.

I or GreyJedi will be getting up some vessels and vehicles information regarding The Mercs most likely later today (Tuesday) or Wednesday at the latest. This information will contain information regarding The Mercs home base and their commanders and crew (character list and positions). I'm hoping this information will help you all in making you're character introduction posts and later posts to as good as you want them to be.

If you have any questions, feel free to PM me.


Thank You,

Bravo

 

[hl=black]GM Approved![/hl]

Name: Havah Jeth
Gender: Male
Age: 33
Species: Arkanian
Homeworld: Arkania
Affiliation: The Mercs

Personality
---Traits: Havah prefers the direct, sneaky approach to missions, and is reluctant to sit back when he thinks danger is an acceptable risk to complete a mission or save a comrade. He keeps his head, if not his cool, at all times, and is generally perceived as protective.
---Likes: When everything ends well, women, the occasional glass of Abrax cognac or shot of accarrgm wine, fine tuning his ship, and combat sparring
---Dislikes: Boring missions & scenarios, weak drinks, when mechanics screw up his ship, failing an obligation, and going in blind on any mission
---Habits: Will play a flute when bored and fiddling with his armor/weapons

Appearance
---Skin Color: Caucasian (Albino Pale)
---Hair Color: White
---Eye Color: White
---Clothing: Tan Chitin Armor with no insignias, with concealed vibro-dagger gauntlets and utility belt.
---Other Attributes: Somewhat broad, with decently rugged looks
---Other Details: Straight hair down to his shoulders, usually keeps helmet hooked at his side when not in combat situations, and has five fingers on right hand.

Weapons: Westar-34 Blaster Pistol (Jango Fett?s blaster type) and spare cartridges, Stokhli Spray Stick, 1x Cryoban Grenade, and the concealed gauntlet vibro-daggers.

Starship
---Name: Spook
---Class: Customized CloakShape Fighter
---Hyperdrive Class: 1.7
---Weapon(s): 2x Medium Forward-mounted laser cannons, 1x Concussion/1xProton Torpedo launcher (4 concussion missiles and 4 torpedoes)
---Shields: Light
---Sublight Speed: 1000 km/h to 3500 km/h (Shields on)
---Crew: 1 Pilot, 1 Otoga-222-series repair droid wirelessly connected to ships computer
---Passenger(s): None
---Max Cargo (kg): 30 kg
---Interior Description: The Spook has been modified to work as a single man and droid fighter from its previous one man status, and as such the positions which would have distracted him such as power flow control and in flight minor repairs are taken care of by his Otoga-222 droid ?Pick?. The power generator has been upgraded to allow for its light deflector shields, engines, and weapons to be used at the same time without serious detriment to either systems. The more common upgrades of a maneuvering fin, hyperdrive sled, and advanced targeting computer with sensor suite.
---Other Details: He rarely allows other droids or people to work on his ship without them being supervised by either himself or Pick at all times. The paint job on the Spook has been intentionally left a mottled tan with cream and rust colored blotches with the exception of white paint at around the missile tubes, giving it an old worn-out look.

The Force
---Sensitivity: None

Biography
---Personal History: Havah grew up as one of seven children, son of Kir, a scientist who works on the main board of the Arkanian Dominion. As this took most of their father?s time they were left to their mother, when she was available, and more often than not to servants to be raised. Some of the servants were of course qualified bodyguards and pilots incase they had to be moved suddenly, and from these he learned many techniques on how to fight and pilot at a young age as they would often use these lessons and training sessions as a way to keep the children busy and out of trouble. As a result, Havah became an adept pilot and fighter at a young age, and as he grew older his skills, with the continued and varied tutelage of the guards and servants, improved. Although he was more of one to break then fix items he had had to learn a good bit about repairing items as even though his parents didn?t mind replacing things, although his caretakers whose wages were docked until the items were fixed or replaced certainly did.

When he came of age of decision it was plane to everyone that the first male born to Kir was not to be a scientist, but instead a

 

OOG: We'll be starting the game later today (Wednesday). Get ready!


Name: Jason Lasso
Gender: Male
Age: 24
Species: Human
Homeworld: Corellia
Affiliation: The Mercs
Personality
---Traits: Punctual, inquisitive, observant
---Likes: Staying in shape, learning and exploring new things, exploring wreckage of starships and sea vessels, studying history, hanging out with friends, playing holo games, watching holo movies, reading books (both paper and holo disk), eating carrots (and chewing gum and beef jerky), and helping people
---Dislikes: People with evil intent, arrogant people, liars, politics (Lasso really hates politics), and the Galactic Empire
---Habits: Scratching his head, cracking his knuckles and fingers, rubbing his face when tired, scratching his feet with each other
Appearance
---Skin Color: Light
---Hair Color: Brown
---Eye Color: Blue-gray
---Clothing: During starfighter missions, Lasso can be seen wearing his standard yellow-green flight suit with black stripping. His helmet is the same yellow-green color with a black strip down the middle of the helmet with a black visor. On either side of the helmet is a picture of a cartoon-looking bird hitting a cliff wall, the picture being in various colors; the bird is white, with it?s startled face looking out towards the viewer of the picture with large white eyes and black pupils, with it?s yellow beak open in shock as it?s body hits the brown cliff. With feathers flying in all directions, the birds? feet are yellow. The background of the picture is a white circle background in which the picture in contained. On the front of the helmet in the middle above the opened face of the helmet is white bold letters that read: QUAGMIRE.

During ground operations, Lasso finds himself wearing brown pants tucked into black military infantry boots at the ankles. He has a black blaster belt (that carries spare ammo clips for both weapons, handheld comlink, a combat knife, and water canteen) around his waist with two holsters, one holster on each thigh midway on the thigh. He has a brown short-sleeve t-shirt covering his torso, with a black short-sleeved blast vest over the t-shirt. An ammo belt is spanned across his chest from upper right shoulder to lower left hip containing more ammo and grenades. A dark brown trench coat covers the blast vest and ammo belt, with black sunglasses to cover his eyes, an ear-worn black comlink with the comlink extending to the right side of his mouth, and black fingerless gloves cover his hands.

When in civilian clothing or not on missions, Lasso is usually seen wearing (during summer time on planets) the modern tunic and shorts or pants with chrono watch, black sunglasses or baseball cap, with his blaster pistol and blaster belt. During winter time, he can be seen wearing a tunic with jeans or pants and a chrono watch, cloak, or coat, black sunglasses or baseball cap, and blaster pistol and blaster belt; he normally wears shoes during winter time and boots, when there is enough snow for boots.
---Other Attributes: Lasso stands 5'10 and weights in at 190 pounds. He has an athletic build and stays in shape.
---Other Details: His hair is cut to a fade style haircut.
Weapons: One DL-44 Blaster Pistol (in off-duty clothes and pilot jumpsuit),two WESTAR-34 blaster pistols (ground outfit), and E-11 blaster rifle (ground outfit).
Starship (Starfighter only---can?t be an X-Wing yet)
---Name: Sweetheart (Merc 3, call-sign Quagmire)
---Class: Naboo Royal n-1 Starfighter
---Hyperdrive Class: Class One
---Weapon(s): twin laser cannons, ten proton torpedoes
---Shields: Stock model
---Sublight Speed: 3,750 G
---Crew: One pilot, one astromech
---Passenger(s): None
---Max Cargo (kg): 65 kg
---Interior Description: Stock model appearance
---Other Details: Same appearance as a Naboo Royal n-1 Starfighter with chromium finish on front of starfighter. The only difference is the same colored picture from Jason Lasso's helmet is on both sides of the starfighter, just forward of the astromech socket an

 

Sorry Folks! Better late than never. DRL has been particularly attentive to me of late! UGH! Anywhos, here's my CS.

GM APPROVED


Name: Winterkill
Gender: male
Age: 22
Species: Nagai
Homeworld: Nagi
Affiliation: The Mercs

Personality
---Traits: observant, calculating. Focused. All persons and occasions are viewed under threat analysis.
---Likes: Above all things, his freedom. His Tehk'la blades and electromesh armor are a close second. He'd also like an honorable friend (if he ever found one ) and even an honorable enemy ( to test himself against, from time to time).
---Dislikes: Tofs, slavery, oppression and anything like them. Hates dishonor.
---Habits: Winterkill is constantly training and honing his skills to keep himself in prime fighting status. He has seen the fatal consequences of being subpar.

Appearance
---Skin Color: Pale white
---Hair Color: Raven black
---Eye Color: Black
---Clothing: Black form-fitting fighter's suit. Black boots and gloves.
---Other Attributes: Winterkill is proficient at the 'soothing voice' ability his race possesses, which acts much like a Jedi mindtrick.
---Other Details: All Nagai have lightning reflexes. Winterkill combines them with acrobatics during combat for added lethal effect.
Weapons: Although he knows how to use a blaster and does in fact use one, Winterkill much prefers the use of vibroblades and vibroswords, but he especially prefers his two Tehk'la Blades. Winterkill also gears himself with his black electromesh armor, which is quite resistant to energy weapons.

Starship
---Name: Wraith
---Class: modified StarViper-class attack platform
---Hyperdrive Class: Class 2
---Weapon(s): Twin double Heavy laser cannons (x2), Forward Proton Torpedo launchers (x2), 3 warheads each.
---Shields: 50 SBD
---Sublight Speed: 110 MGLT
---Crew: 1 (pilot)
---Passenger(s): slaved/ integrated astromech (droid) comp.
---Max Cargo (kg): 50 kg
---Interior Description: Usually dark and unlit. Uncluttered and ready for action.
---Other Details: Aft and front shielding capabilities. The Wraith is painted completely black. This ship was bequeath to him by a slain mandalorian who fought alongside the Nagai to reclaim their homeworld from the Tofs.

The Force: Only something he's heard spoken about in random conversations by members of the alliance.

Biography:

---Personal History: Winterkill was one of the few Nagai who stayed behind on Nagi when the Tofs invaded their home planet, mostly because he was very young, and that youth was vested in the continual struggle for survival, as the Tofs were systematically eradicating all Nagi from their own planet. Thus Winterkill learned the art of stealth, killing and misdirection at a very early age. There was no remorse in slaying an enemy who sought your extinction.

Death was constantly at the heels of the Nagai survivors. There was no point in making friends or close ties. Survival was all that mattered. In small groups or alone. The slaughter seemed to go on forever as years went by, but one day....after an eternity, Nagai warriors and mandalorians returned to Nagi to liberate the planet from the tyranny of the Tofs. Winterkill, who only lived between the ticking of seconds, almost did not trust himself to hope.

Freedom. At last.

---Military History: Winterkill fought alongside the mandalorians who came with the nagai warriors to free their home planet. He quickly fell-in with a unit of mandalorian special forces as their guide. Impressed by his skills in the field of combat, one of the mandalorians took it upon himself to further mentor winterkill in the arts of war. This was the same mandalorian who had bequeathed his weapons and starship to him when they had fallen victim to an enemy ambush.

---Traumatic Experiences: Life on occupied Nagi was traumatic. Everyday was the last day of your life. Someone you knew always died, someone was always killed. Survival in that hellish environment was all that mattered. Nothing else. This is probably

 

OOG: Okay everyone, the game is starting tonight. Once the opening game post is posted (will be below), then the game has officially started. Remember for next week (starting from this Friday to next Friday), GreyJedi is in charge, what he says goes. Thanks.

The following is information regarding the game, including the opening roster. The roster was based off of character sheet details and how you presented you're character. All open spots are NPC's and can be replaced (except if labeled locked, which means only at Game Master or Assistant Game Master permission can the NPC be replaced) when new players join or if you want to kill off you're character and start a new one.


CHARACTERS


Captain Rick Taller (Callsign Quick Mother): A man haunted by all the death he has brought upon so many people over the years, Rick Taller has a laid back appearance, yet commands respect from his crew and enemies alike. When he assumes the 'commander' role, all faces turn serious to Taller. He has light colored skin, shaggy brown hair down to his neck, blue eyes, and often has a five o'clock shadow on his face; Rick's face looks worn from years of conflict. He stands 5'10 and has a muscular build. He wears tan-brown cargo pants tucked into black military boots with a black blaster belt around his waist with a blaster holster strapped around his thigh, a DL-44 Blaster Pistol with scope resting in the holster. On the blaster belt he carries a virboblade, a white hand-held comlink, and extra energy clips for his blaster pistol and E-11 Blaster Rifle. He wears a black short-sleeve t-shirt, with his old military dog-tags either hanging inside or outside of his t-shirt. Both of his upper arms are covered in tattoos with a watch on his left wrist. During ground missions, he wears the white torso armor, arm armor, and hand armor and black gloves of a Clone Trooper around the end of the Clone Wars. The outside shoulder armor is painted red with words in red on the front and back of his armor. The red words include the statements: Long Live the Republic, The New Order is fraud, Palpatine, I'm coming for you!, and Long live the Jedi!. A ammo belt is strapped across his chest from right shoulder to left lower hip with extra ammo and grenades. A white ear comlink is in his right ear.

Over the armor he'll wear a black trench coat and black sun-glasses; when not on ground missions, he'll wear a black trench coat over his t-shirt, with black sun-glasses. If leading ground missions or leading starfighter operations, Rick will wear this armor regardless, unless he's piloting a starfighter, in which case he'll wear a standard orange flight suit and white helmet with the words Long Live the Jedi! on the left side in red letters and Go Republic!!!! on the right side of the helmet in red letters as well.

Early fifties in age, Rick served during the Clone Wars as a starfighter pilot and later in a non-clone infantry battalion serving with the Clone Troopers of the Old Republic. Rick didn't buy into the Jedi betraying the Old Republic and when Order 66 was issued, the infantry officer found himself fighting off Clone Troopers with a handful of loyal men to him as they aided their Jedi General in escaping. Once the Clone Troopers and non-clone troops were taken care off, Rick Taller and his men escorted the Jedi General back to Coruscant. But when the code was reversed, the Jedi and his loyal non-clone troops disappeared into the Outer Rim, not to be heard from again for years.

Rick Taller and even fewer then before of his loyal soldiers would emerge years later from the Outer Rim without their Jedi General, forming the mercenary group known as The Mercs. Despite eager recruitment, Taller soon found that the Galactic Empire was too strong and too well equipped for direct combat, so The Mercs adopted hit-and-run tactics, destroying Imperial supply lines, later turning into a true mercenary group, taking any and all jobs. During these 'dark year

 

OOG: GAME START!!!!


Please take note of roster details in OOG below. Thanks.


IC: Rick Taller
Republic of Watava



The smoke whirled away from the cigar, trailing off into the morning air, the sun just rising above the forested hill in the distance, a few miles beyond the fortified wall---where armored humanoid forms walked back and forth along the top of the walls between two giant stone watch towers---across the yard from Rick Taller.

The old solider took another drag of his cigar, enjoying the taste and feeling of the cigar. The mornings was the one time that Rick felt like he had any private time to himself, any time away from the constant go and go of life. He stood outside on the porch, the glass sliding window behind him separating the outside and the inside of his personal quarters on the sprawling military base. These luxury quarters were reserved for high ranking officers of the base and The Mercs pilots themselves. The green grass and few trees stretched out from the brown porch, running up against the red brick fortified wall and onwards to the outside of the wall and going on to the hill in the distance.

It was a very odd peaceful scene amongst such a wearisome time of possible war for the Republic of Watava.

The glass door slid open and Rick Taller closed his eyes in regret of the start of the day...

His peaceful mornings always had to come to an end.


"Good morning, Captain," Spoke the black colored M-3PO Military Protocol Droid named Dak, "How was you're rest?"

Rick took another drag of his cigar and turned to the military protocol droid, his cigar still in his mouth, "It was good."

Dak didn't need any further explanation, he had known his owner and Captain long enough, "The duties of command do await you, sir."

"Don't they always, Dak, don't they always?" Rick answered, putting his cigar out and putting the remainder of the cigar in his pocket, following his personal assistance droid into living area of the luxury quarters, closing the glass door behind him. Dak grabbed a hand-held control from the dinner table and a hologram projector descended from the ceiling, fuzzing a holograpic picture to life.

"This is who we have, as of today," Dak declared as he motioned to the holograpic roster, "After Dog and---"

"No more," Rick said, "Go on." Dog's death was bad enough, but he was a soldier, he had accepted the risk. The young recruit though, he was just a kid...

"This is who we have..."


The Mercs' Roster


Command Staff

Captain: Rick Taller (Locked, Game Master and Assistant Game Master Controlled)
Commander: Terrel Vacks (Locked, Game Master and Assistant Game Master Controlled)
Intelligence Officer: Open

Command Support Staff (All NPC's)

Captain's Personal Assistance: Dak (Locked, Game Master and Assistant Game Master Controlled)
Command Staff Assistance: Open
Morale Officer: Nick Skysand (Locked, Game Master and Assistant Game Master Controlled)

Bridge Staff

Lieutenant Commander: Open
Ensign: Open
Bridge and Ground Operations Command: Janice Toller

Temporary Bridge Command: Terrel Vacks (Locked)
Temporary Ensign: Chris Streets (Locked, NPC---can be controlled by anyone, just can't be killed)

**

Medical Staff:

Chief Medical Officer: Kailin Veyo
Charge Nurse: Open
Lead Medic: Open
Field Medic #1: Kailin Veyo
Field Medic #2: Jason Lasso

**

Hanger Staff:

Hanger Chief: Open
Lead Hanger Tech: Ler (LE Repair Droid) (Locked, NPC---can be controlled by anyone, just can't be killed)
Hanger Tech: Open

**

Starship Support

Chief Engineer:

 

OOG: If we do struggle to get positions filled after a while I don't mind creating/playing another character if you would like I also have not thought of any NPC's yet. Was going to wait to see if we got any new players first, if not I'll come up with some


IC: Kailin Veyo
Republic of Watava


It was early morning in the Republic of Watava. And inside her quarters, a young woman was preparing to start the day. Pulling her red hair into a tidy bun and shrugging on a white lab coat over her pale blue scrubs, Kailin Veyo clipped her base id to the front pocket and walked over to a medium sized desk in the corner of the room. She then began to shovel up datapads and folders containing paper and flimsy that were scattered across it. Its not that she always took her work home with her, but with the tensions between the Republic of Watava and the country of Lim becoming closer and closer to breaking point, it would be best to be prepared for anything. After gathering everything she needed, she left her quarters and started walking in the direction of the medical bay.

She walked through the winding corridors of the large military base. It had taken her a while to get used to the size and layout of the place when she had first arrived here, but now it was a walk in the park. She continued along the quiet walkways, her steps echoed softly as she walked. Not many people seemed to be around this time of morning. It almost felt peaceful. A feeling seldom experienced on a world were mass bloody carnage could erupt at any second.

Fiddling with a few pieces of flimsy that had worked their way out of the folder as she walked, Kailin tucked the unruly mass under her left arm. It was a mish mash of medical journals, books and notes she had used to compile a report about the possible medical and health implications and risks that the war could possibly bring, diseases, the use pathogens and poisons, the list went on. It didn't exactly make for cheery reading, but then again, nothing was cheery about a potential war. She would submit an official report to the higher up's when they requested it. Not exactly something you would appreciate reading over your morning coffee...

But apart from the sobering report she was carrying, she also had something else on her mind as she became lost in thought, and that was her very first combat mission as a fully trained starfighter pilot.

Kailin already had some pilot experience, working on sprint class rescue shuttles during her former posting on the hospital ship Compassion, and taken to the starfighter training well, but even so, the usually calm and level headed medic couldn't help but feel a little bit nervous. Another pilot would help bolster the merc's fighter squadron and manpower that was true, but the base was currently extremely low on other medical personnel, bar a few casual Watava civilian volunteers who would help out when they could, and a fellow merc called Jason Lasso.

In-fact, the whole base was stretched thin. On top of another tragic loss of a young pilot just recently, she had heard on the grapevine that the pilots were taking on temporary roles in other areas as the higher up's tried to find people to fill them. She did accept that if the medical staffing situation became critical she would have no choice but to return to her former post, but nothing was set in stone quite yet. Hopefully it would be sorted soon.

Still partly lost in thought, Kailin continued on her way. It was then she noticed two familiar figures. It was captain Rick Taller and his assistant military protocol droid Dak. As they got closer, she stopped and offered a small friendly smile along with a salute with her free arm.

?Good Morning Captain Taller. Dak. How are you this morning?


TAG: Bravo, Any

 

OOG: I'll get to tags here shortly. As of right now, GreyJedi is GM until I get back. He has full access to my IC character Jason Lasso as well. If you have any questions, please PM him. Also, all new players, please PM you're character sheets to GreyJedi125. Thank you.

 

Janice Toller
Republic of Watava

Janice took the last bite of her breakfast - she wasn't entirely sure what it was, having been too deep in thought this morning to notice, or care - and set her fork down on her mess tray. Had it really been almost a month since Dog's death? It seemed like far less time had passed, almost as if the days were collapsing into one another. Perhaps, she thought, dabbing her mouth clean with her napkin, that was a natural symptom of some of the stress her new duties had placed on her. Or perhaps she was still reeling from the death of one of their more recent recruits a mere two weeks ago. Hell, she hadn't even had time to learn the kid's name before... BLAM! - no more recruit.

She sighed and placed her tray in cleaning bin. That had been a far more cynical line of thought than she usually entertained. Again, it was probably all the stress. Sometime tonight, after all was said and done, she would have to break open that new bottle of brandy she had purchased awhile back. A drink right then would've done a world of good, but it was both early and the start of normal operations, so the timing was far from ideal.

The mission on which the recruit had been killed - a relatively simple fighter job, nothing fancy - had involved some droid-run mining stations and, as usual, a minor economic squabble turned nasty. Everything had been going smoothly, damn near flawless, when the kid lost control of his fighter for just a fraction of a second too long. And in this business a fraction of a second was all that separated you from life and death. Of course, it had been Dog who had so often stressed that point, and look where it had gotten him!

These and other thoughts rolled through the squadron leader's mind as she strolled down the corridors of the base in the direction of the main hangar to perform some final modifications before she was required to report for duty, but her expression betrayed none of them. Indeed, her persistently calm attitude bordered on the famous (or infamous, depending on your interpretation and point of view) among the rest of The Mercs, and that was fine by Janice. Emotions were all well and good, but during the heat of battle cool heads prevailed, and the best way to keep a cool head in a fight was to keep one at all times.

She passed through the automatic doors of the hangar and strolled over to the Arc-J, not surprised to find her astromech droid, R2-F6, already working. "Morning F6," Janice called, as she approached the cockpit of her fighter. The droid beeped in greeting. "What say we get started?" she asked, and promptly entered the pilot's seat before booting up the system configuration data.

TAG: Any

 

OOG: Yeah, if we do struggle, it's all good if people create NPC's to fill those spots. And the Med Bay is yours, when you want to add NPC's, go ahead. Everyone has to go through you now on that, even Grey and I.

As for you're tag, I'm going to let greyjedi handle the tag with Rick Taller and Dak since I won't have internet access. Hope you don't mind.


IC: Jason Lasso
Ten Miles Outside Headquarters Base, Republic of Watava


The morning light filtered in through the tree-tops above, turning the green leaves to a lighter green as yellow light shown through them as it filtered down from the morning sky above. Jason Lasso's TaggeCo. Air-2 Swoop was a few yards behind him; the tan colored swoop bike had been modified with military-grade light armor and two blaster cannons, one on either side of the round leg shields. Modifications to the main battery and engines had been done to give the swoop bike performance that slightly exceeded most stock model swoop bikes of the same model. The swoop bike had also been modified with military-grade sensors and comm systems. Another swoop bike of the same model and modifications, although not having the two blaster cannons, was parked next to it.

It's rider was a non-stop chatter box----and Lasso thought he was bad with not being able to shut up. Nick Skysand's holo vid camera just kept rolling....as it always did---Jason wondered how the kid could edit out all of his own jabbering on and make a pretty good holo vid, like he did on the last one.

"I mean don't you have a comment, Jason Lasso?" Nick asked for the vid camera.

Jason turned around, his face becoming the center of the holo vid recording, the white trunk and green trees and noise of animals the background. "Look kid, its early, very early. Its usually my time to wake up and have a cup of coffee and relax. So no, no comment on how you said you saved you're barbie dolls from destruction from the green monsters last night," Jason turned around and kept on walking deeper into the woods, his back retreating from the holo recording.

"Hey, you weren't supposed to tell anyone that! That stayed between me and you! And---wait, hold up---" The camera view started to shake while Nick caught up to the The Merc, "---They're ACTION FIGURES, not barbie dolls!"

"You could have fooled me," Jason said with a smirk on his face as he loved giving the young kid a hard time.

"At least I don't play with toys still..." The fourteen year old fired back with a smirk.

Jason's face adopted a open jaw, "That's black mail!"

"You're point being...?"

"They're vehicle and vessel models, not toys!" Jason shook his head, looking at a grinning Nick, "Okay, fine, we're even!"

Nick nodded in victory, "That's what I like to hear. So where is this thing anyway?" He asked.

Jason kept walking, scanning the woods ahead of them, "I don't quite know. But judging from the dirt roadway back there to where we're at now, it should be somewhere around here."

"We're how far back into these woods now?" Nick looked all around him and exclaimed dramatically, "In fact, I don't even know where we're at!"

"You never know where you're at," Jason shot back, then came to a stop and pointed to his left, "Why don't you head up that way a bit and I'll go this way," Lasso pointed out towards the right, "We're search in a box and run into each other up ahead."

"All for a 'shinny metal piece,'" Nick grumbled under his voice.

Jason heard though as the two parted ways and he yelled back, "Hey, that 'shinny metal piece' could be worth something you know!" Jason didn't fully catch the sarcastic comment that Nick yelled back, but didn't stop to ask for clarification. He kept on walking, starting to loose his enthusiasm for the hunt for the metal object he saw shinny off in the distance from the dirt road the two had been traveling on to stretc

 

Bravo Approved.

Name: Banger
Gender: Masculine Programming
Age: Thirty-one years since initial construction
Species: BD-3000 luxury droid prototype
Homeworld: Assembled on Etti IV
Affiliation: Unaffiliated
Personality
---Traits: Banger absolutely worships the thought of biological sentience. He feels disdain for those who actually possess it, however, due to their lack of appreciation for their gift. Despite his contempt for their species, Banger is highly interested in the chaotic and destructive nature of Humans. His interest borders on obsession and his ultimate goal is to find a way to implant his brain in the body of a specimen. Banger tries to recreate his perspective of human emotion and culture in his actions, through the use of witticism, sarcasm and common slang.
---Likes: Anything inherently human in nature. Though he cannot partake in its consumption, Banger enjoys the aesthetics of food and alcohol. He enjoys common ?human? practices, such as lying and bragging. Banger also takes pleasure in gambling and the simulation of smoking, despite his lack of lungs.
---Dislikes: Mirrors or reflective surfaces, his status as a droid, any being with an apparent superiority complex, insects.
---Habits: Tapping on his chest while performing calculations, ?scratching? his chin during thought and tapping his feet or bouncing his legs whilst seated.
Appearance
---Skin Color: Peach-hued matte finish.
---Hair Color: Black-hued matte finish
---Eye Color: Green sensors
---Clothing: Torso, midsection and upper legs are a black-hued matte finish similar to Banger?s hair.
---Other Attributes: Banger sports minor dents and scuffs on his finish, including several carbon scoring marks.
---Other Details: Banger?s ?hair? is short and spiky.
Weapons: DC-17 hand blaster
Starship (Starfighter only---can?t be an X-Wing yet)
---Name: Ambition
---Class: Ixiyen-class fast attack craft
---Hyperdrive Class: .9
---Weapon(s): 2 Laser Cannons
---Shields: Light
---Sublight Speed: 135 MGLT
---Crew: 1 pilot
---Passenger(s): None
---Max Cargo (kg): 50 kg
---Interior Description: Standard interior, very cramped, shielding system has been modified to allow for greater speeds.
---Other Details: The entire ship is finished with a rust-colored matte paint, with black detailing.
The Force: Not applicable.
Biography
---Personal History: For the five years of his existence, Banger was just a deactivated BD-3000, until he was ordered by a well-known Black Sun Vigo based on Coruscant. In order to maximize his use, the mobster stripped down Banger?s system and rebuilt him with several hundred upgrades and modifications. The bulk of them were combat-based installations, including around fifty sensory upgrades and stabilization programs. However, the mobster introduced several other programs to Banger?s system, including a chef upgrade, a pilot?s upgrade, and a mechanic upgrade and an advanced training program coupled with a second memory unit, to boost Banger?s processing speed and capabilities.

However, the chief mechanic in charge of reconstructing Banger failed to properly reinstate his personality programming, causing it to degrade over time. Eventually Banger replaced it with his current personality, and spent the next three years questioning his existence in silence, while still acting as the Vigo?s personal attendant. Eventually, Banger determined that his place no longer resided by his current owner?s side, and in a stylish ploy, orchestrated his own ?destruction? with a flashy airspeeder crash.

In truth, Banger fled the planet in a modified starfighter that belonged to one of his former master?s henchman.
---Military History: None to note.
---Traumatic Experiences: None

 

IC: Havah Jeth
Republic of Watava

He awoke in a cold sweat screaming, the face of his brother that was not his brother somehow, and the face of Dog and the recent recruit fading as they gave way to the familiar sight of his cockpit. A familiar location, comforting in a crude way just like his armor that he still wore, a link to the present until his flashbacks passed. They always started after someone died that he knew and last a couple of weeks, but with the passing of Dog and then the new recruit they had started to last longer.

Rotating the seat from its recline to an upright position he wiped the sweat from around his mouth and nose as he heard some rustling before Pick appeared next to him hold up a glass of cognac. ?My medication. Thanks Pick.? Taking the glass he downed it quickly, ?Hmmm, that?s some good Abrax. Still sealed so no one heard me waking? No! What do you mean no??

?The targeting system revealed in nightly diagnostic to be off by point four micrometers for the missile tubes. I opened the hatch to get the necessary equipment for repairs.?

?Fine. Fine. Now I?ll have to go the medic because of your morning repair.? Pinching his nose for a moment, he sighed heavily before standing and gather his equipment before slowly with some regret exiting his ship to face the world.

Stopping on the brink with his hand on the hatch and his head barely at the entrance of it he called back in to the droid, ?Totally breaks my eight year avoidance run you know that Pick?!? he called into the hatch but paused a moment as a tumbler was slid to him by the plating. Taking it down he looked at the full tumbler of Abrax cognac, ?Forgiven.? He shouted back as a final parting before sealing it behind him. Looking around the hanger he spotted Janice Toller. To whom he raised his glass in a morning salute before he turned on his heel to head out to find some food to layer on top of his morning ?medication?.

Stopping short of his first step he looked back at her and called up with his raised dry voice, ?Breakfast worth it, or should I stick with caf?? He didn?t quite know even if his stomach was up to much beyond snacking anyway, but an informed warning could save one from a fate worse than life, especially if one had training to clean a plate no matter how foul once starting with that first fateful bite.

And if history proved true military food often proved to be some of the foulest food to grace a plate when prepping for a terrible war.

TAG: Darthramza, Any

 

Dernan Vask
Republic of Watava, Military Base

Well, Dernan thought to himself, this is boring.
He?d signed on with The Mercs because he thought he?d see some action. They were stationed on a planet that, by all rights, ought to be at war by now, but all he?d seen so far was the hanger, the mess hall and the inside of his quarters. Some of the locals had also seen the inside of his quarters so it wasn?t all bad news, but he was still bored.
So for the third time in the week since he?d arrived, Dernan was carrying a large bag down to breakfast. He grabbed a bowl of something that looked like foo... that looked edib... that looked vaguely digestible and made his way over to a vacant table.
Dernan scoffed down the stuff in his bowl as quick as possible, so as to taste it as little as possible, then pulled an old cloth from his bag and spread it on the table in front of him. He reached back into the bag and with great care, even reverence, withdrew a rather large blaster rifle and placed it on the table. A much smaller but still very sturdy pistol followed in a similar manner, then a nasty looking combat knife. Lastly he unwrapped a small, brown leather package. He pulled the blaster rifle a bit closer, pulled a tool out of the leather kit, and started very carefully taking the RT-97c apart.
He cleaned the power contact points, oiled the trigger mechanism and tightened up the alignment brackets for the scope. Finally he took a fresh cloth and some cleaning fluid, and very gently wiped down the focusing lenses. After ensuring that he hadn?t left any streaks across the glass discs he carefully slid them back into their slots, the other removed components being replaced just as precisely.
When he was finished he put all the tools back into their places, re-wrapped the leather pack and placed it back into his bag, then withdrew another, slightly smaller package.
?Alright Chloe, he muttered as he picked up the pistol, ?your turn.?

Tag: Any

 

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

After all these years, very little had changed, interms of his sleeping habits. Winterkill still only slept for four hours only, not a minute longer, and never on his bed, but somewhere up high where none could reach him easily. That was one of the many ways he managed to survive the Tof death squads during the occupation of Nagi, his homeworld. It's been only a few years since the Tof occupation force had been driven from Nagi by Mandalorians and Nagai Warriors, but the nightmare still lived on everytime he closed his eyes.

Now he was involved in a different war, someone else's war. Well, the war that was clearly soon to come.

Winterkill had come to the mess hall very early and had already consumed his tasteless morning meal. He had hardly noticed the culinary disaster for what it was. Such things were meaningless to a person who had to go days and weeks without real food. His mind had been on finding someone to spar with, but the training room had been devoid of life. Given the circumstances, that was understandable.

No matter.

Despite the fact that Winterkill had only been with the Mercs for two months, he already knew that he liked it here, though he hardly gave any outer indication of it. The two other mercs in his strike team were very talented and excelled at their tasks. Winterkill enjoyed working with Commander Vacks and Havah Jeth. As a strike unit, the three of them fell in together with so much efficiency, even he marvelled at this. Captain Taller, who was a human he's grown to respect considerably, had the military savvy to put him in a unit he would excell at. The man certainly knew his warfare. And concerning issues of war, unfortunatelly, Winterkill was too numb a soul to feel anything over the loss of Dog and the young recruit. He'd seen too much death in his youth, but he knew enough to be respectful of the feelings of others concerning such themes. He could see how those deaths affected the others, so he did his best not to appear too callous. But he did have to wonder why someone as young as Nick Skysand was allowed to be part of the Mercs.

Winterkill does not particularly like to be recorded, but he tolerates it.... for now.

As he sat on his corner seat, Nimble fingers moved across the length of the sheathed Tehk'la blades that lay across his lap as his black eyes, much like pools of onyx, scanned the news feed that played on the viewscreen mounted against the far wall. Tensions between The Republic of Watava and The Republic of Lim were mounting. Lim insurgents were now carrying out furtive strikes on remote settlements while Watavan loyalists conduced reprisals. No one was directly claiming responsability, although everyone knew who the true players were. Diplomats and polititians scampered to assuage the mounting tensions, but to little avail.

Winterkill looked at the entrance door to the Mess Hall once again, as his fingers caressed his blades. Yes, it was still early, but if he didn't see someone familiar soon, he resolved to find himself something he could do... solo.

Tag: Any


OOC: Well, I certainly hope I can channel Bravo and get this right. Wish me luck. :p


[b]IC: Rick Taller[/b]
[i]Republic of Watava, Military Base[/i]

The walk to the mess hall was not a particularly long one, at least not for someone like [b]Captain Rick Taller[/b], and it was certainly negligible to his Military Protocol Droid, the M-3PO model named [b]Dak[/b].

The pair walked with an easy gait through the halls of the base, saluting respectfully those few souls they encountered as they went.

"Good morning Captain...." said one private nervously as he performed a crisp salute upon seeing the Captain, after coming to a sliding halt from being caught running through the corridors.

"Mornin' Private. At ease son..."Rick said, returning the salute. He gave a slight nod the the private and a small smile, which caused the youth to si>

 

Janice Toller
Republic of Watava, Military Base, Hangar

"Okay, F6, cut me just a tick more slack on the lateral controls and..." Janice gave a slight tug on the steering mechanism. "That's it. Now on to vertical." As she said this, she spied Havah Jeth out of the corner of her eye, using a raise of his glass in place of a more formal salute. It was early, and Janice had never been a major proponent of formal military procedure, so she didn't worry about it.

"Lower sensitivity two units," she called to F6 as she continued to fiddle with the controlling mechanism. The Arc-J was a hair out of alignment this morning, prompting Janice to wonder if one of those pesky mechanics had performed a pre-mission tuning. She specifically refused those requests for a reason, but of course it was always being ignored. Blasted engineers always assuming they knew what was right or wrong with a configuration. A ship had to match the pilot, especially a custom configuration like the J.

"Breakfast is average," she replied, not taking her eyes off the console. "Can't say I remember too much of it, I was a bit preoccupied. One unit increased sensitivity, F6."

TAG: Mitth

 

Havah Jeth
Republic of Watava, Military Base, Hangar

"Thanks Lead." Turning he headed out leaving her to work on her ship, something he would do if he had been able to sleep well through last night. Instead food looked like it was a gambit he would have pass in getting through the morning.

Walking through the military base wasn't all that exciting, he had been in many such facilities throughout his prior life to the mercs, and with that a possible piece of the puzzle fell in place for his mind. Perhaps the reason the flashbacks and nightmares were worse was because he was stuck on a military base not too dissimilar to where he used to work out of or the facility where he had killed his brother.

Problem solved, maybe he didn't need to bother the doc and could pass that scream off as a `repair accident'. As he walked to the mess hall he spotted three figures going to the doors to peer in, he continued as normal walking quietly and silently, something he never could quiet control or stop from doing without forcfully stomping around. As he came up behind he heard the Captain Rick Taller ask of either Dak or Kailin Veyo where everyone was.

"Not a clue sir. Does it look safe to consume today Doctor?" Always good to get a medical opinion on the things that really mattered, plus for a doctor and human she looked pretty good with just the right amount of scars to suggest she might be able to put up with someone with a...past or disposition...something like that of his.

Best to steer clear though probably lest she admit him psycho evaluation. Something he didn't want to have to go through again.

TAG: Ramza, Jedi_padawan_leigh, `Rick Taller'(GM), Anyone else

 

IC: Kailin Veyo
Republic of Watava


"Mornin' Kailin."

Kailin watched as the captain returned the salute and gave her a warm smile. Dak then offered to assist her in carrying the large wad of files and paper work that was still tucked under her arm. They were getting a little heavy and she had nearly dropped a handful of them en route. Nodding, she handed half of the papers and folders over to the assistance droid.

"Thank you Dak, you are a star" She said with a grateful smile, some feeling returning to her arm as the excess weight was removed.

"We're on our way to the mess hall to grab our mornin' grub. You're more than welcome to come sit with us if you want. You could sort through your paperwork while I go over today's itinerary. With the Lim and Watavan emergency diplomatic session scheduled for today, I get a feeling we Mercs might be needed, so we need to be ready."

Rick made a motion with his head, an indication that he wanted her to follow him to the mess. She nodded in agreement and followed Rick and Dak in the direction of the mess. On the way she heard the captain musing on the whereabouts of his personnel. This wasn't really a surprise. The mercs were made up of many diverse and interesting people. All with their own routines and rituals they would follow during their down-time. During missions however, this was a different story. At the mess hall door, he stuck his head in and scanned the room for any familiar faces.

"Not a clue sir. Does it look safe to consume today Doctor?"

Kailin turned around to face the person who had addressed her and captain. It was Havah Jeth. A merc who had a reputation as one of the best in the squad when it came to stealth missions. The Arkanian was also second in command after Janice Toller. Kailin figured that he was asking her opinion on the food being served in the mess and laughed softly. If she had a credit for each time someone complained about the food at one point or another she would be a rich woman.

"Looks alright to me. I haven?t had a need to break out my poison response kit yet"

She said, giving the Arkanian a light-hearted wink as she made her way over to a table.

"Besides, bland, tasteless or not, you should eat something, you know skipping breakfast is bad for you"


TAG: Mitth, greyjedi

 

IC: Rick Taller
Republic of Watava, Military Base, Mess Hall

Captain Rick Taller casually stuck his head beyond the mess hall doors threshold and looked in to see if he spotted any familiar faces. The man almost positively jumped out of his skin when he heard a voice right behind him. Almost. But he didn't. His 'shoulders' however, did react as they jerked slightly.

"Not a clue sir. Does it look safe to consume today Doctor?"

Rick made a reaching motion for his side-arm as he half turned. He had already recognized the voice of the speaker. It was Havah Jeth doing his 'spook' impression again. But Rick was not about to give the man the satisfaction of having caught him off-guard.

"Darn it, Jeth! how many times have I told you to announce yourself first!"

Rick tried to sound irritated, but failed miserably as he chortled and re-holstered his blaster.

Kailin turned around to face the person who had addressed her and captain. It was Havah Jeth.

Kailin figured that he was asking her opinion on the food being served in the mess and laughed softly. If she had a credit for each time someone complained about the food at one point or another she would be a rich woman.

"Looks alright to me. I haven?t had a need to break out my poison response kit yet" She said, giving the Arkanian a light-hearted wink as she made her way over to a table.

Rick and Dak automatically followed her lead.

"Besides, bland, tasteless or not, you should eat something, you know skipping breakfast is bad for you."

"In my understanding of human physiology, I would have to agree with the good doctor." Dak put in as he stacked Kailin's files and papers next to her. "And congratulations. You managed to fool my audio receptors yet again."

"You're overdue for an upgrade anyway..." Rick interjected.

"Excuse me?"

Dak almost sounded offended, which caused Rick to laugh all the more.

"Mind if I join..." a low voice was heard saying suddenly.

Two Tehk'la blades slid on the table right next to Captain Taller, who almost jumped yet again, then smacked his forehead with a meaty hand and shook his head.

Winterkill actually cracked a small smile at that. His dark eyes spared a silent glance towards Havah Jeth, to whom he gave a slight acknowledging nod.

"Doctor..." the nagai said simply as he also acknowledged Kailin.

"What in...!?? That's twice now. Is my stealth team trying to kill me? you two want to give me a heart-attack? Just because the doctor is next to me and can propably administer CPR doesn't mean..."

"Pardon me, sir..." Dak said cutting in.

"what is it Dak?" Rick inquired as he turned to regard the droid.

"Your heart rate registers as normal, sir. Plus, you are in excellent physical condition. The chances of inducing heart failure..."

"Fer cryin' outloud Dak!! That's not even the point!" Rick cried out.

Winterkill's smile broadened, despite himself. He never could tell if the Captain and his droid were jesting or if they were serious whenever they pulled these acts. It didn't really matter. He found it oddly pleasant, and simply sat himself down and continued to play silent spectator.

"Besides...." Rick continued with his rant. "You just proved to me that you DO need an upgrade. Your audio receptors didn't even pick him up either? what am I paying you for?"

"Uhm...sir. I'm not salaried. I'm your property, so you do not pay me."

Rick stopped short and thought about that for a moment.

"Oh. yeah. Uhm.You're right..... "

The very unusual sound of Winterkill chuckling followed. Rick looked pleased with himself as he looked over and gave Kailin a wink.

"Alright, alright, let's see if we can order some of that fancy mornin' breakfast around here. Where is everyone anyway. Roll call is in about an hour."

"Try the hangar." Winterkill said with a shrug. "I'll get us some trays." he announced as he got up. The nagai glanced over at the newsfeed for a moment before silently going over to fetch some trays for his fellow mercs.

"Seriously Jeth, I'm going to have to put some bells o

 

Havah Jeth
Republic of Watava, Military Base, Mess Hall

From the Captain's response he just gave a crooked grin for moment before attempting to count out on his free hand the number of times. In truth he didn't know and didn't care, being quiet had been so ingrained by always being told he was too loud in training via whisper or hand signals it had gotten to where stopping became like someone telling you not to breath. An impossibility but still fun to see the varied reactions.

His head cocked back a slight bit at the wink from the medical officer, giving a stray thought rise that maybe a psychological eval wouldn't be to terrible after all to get from Kailin. Though he still wasn't about to volunteer to go of course.

To the comment of skipping breakfast being bad, something Dak just had to comment on as well he simply raised his hands, one with cognac and the other open in a sign of giving-up, "I give. I'll eat the slop." He would just have to submit to the whatever torture the local services devised to insinuate as being food.

Though when the next guest stepped up, interupting a nice discussion between Captain and Dak, he had to grin at the results. Leaning back a little he watched the show unfold anew from the recent jump Winterkill had interjected into the little group.

He returned the acknowledging nod back at Winterkill, he hadn't budged or flinched and doubted Winterkill ever would either from the other's sudden and silent appearances. After all it just ment that they were still at the top of their games, which the little show that followed merely was merely an acolade to his ears to hear.

"Seriously Jeth, I'm going to have to put some bells on you guys whenever you're not on a mission..." Rick went on to say to the arkanian. After Winterkill had gone to get the group some of the local...fair.

"I can move just as silently carrying a bandolier full of grenades with loose bouncing pins. I doubt bells would make a difference sir." he added back with a straight face to Rick.

Looking over he glanced at the news reel that was scrolling by, "So does it look like we might be able to get off of our kiester's any time soon? Or should I start investing time into arts and crafts?"

TAG: GreyJedi, Jedi_padawan_leigh, `Rick Taller'(GM), Anyone else

 

Dernan Vask
Watava Military Base, Mess Hall

Dernan had just finished reassembling his blaster pistol when a group of the Mercs arrived. Damn but they don?t make half a racket, he thought to himself as he holstered the pistol and carefully placed the blaster rifle back into the bag with the cleaning equipment.
He made his way over to the table they had chosen, dumping his bowl into a cleaning bin on the way, just in time to hear Captain Taller suggest bells for the 'spooks'.
"I can move just as silently carrying a bandolier full of grenades with loose bouncing pins. I doubt bells would make a difference sir." Havah Jeth replied.
?I dunno Jeth,? he said as he slid into a spare seat, ?a bunch o? bells might make you prettier to the women folk around here. But then, we?d need a lot o? bells for that wouldn?t we??

Tag: All in the mess hall