Krzesimir Viggo
The First Order
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Affiliation: First Order
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Post by Krzesimir Viggo on May 8, 2013 10:30:29 GMT -8
With a burst of multi-spectrum radiation a small ship exits hyperspace. 300 meters long, making it a Light Cruiser by size, the ship was slightly shorter than the carrak-class ship and only 1/3 the size of the Victory-class, that were before it. The two approaching Nebulons were the same length, and the Coronas were only just shy of its size. It broadcast a neutral IFF signal as it scanned the system. Its shield are up but its weapons and sublights are cold. The commander notes the apparent battle going on, but does not offer aid to either side, though he does put his pilots on high alert, ordering them to their ships, in case they were needed.
Lieutenant Eli:
Well, we seem to have stumbled upon a bit of a skirmish here. Awfully daring of the Carrack captain to board a destroyer nearly three times it's size. Especially considering the most Destroyers that size carry more troops than a Carrack has crew. And yet, those impact fractures are pretty clear that it was the one doing the ramming...
Corporal 1st class:
Perhaps it was a last ditch manuver, hoping to take the Victory-StarDestroyer out in a suicide run.
Lieutenant Eli:
In which case, the commander is no less foolish, and has failed his objective. Standby, I expect we shall be hailed shortly.
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Bloodrage Pirates
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Yo ho, yo ho a pirate's life for me!
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Post by Bloodrage Pirates on May 11, 2013 3:42:15 GMT -8
The noise, heard aboard the Cutlass was a deafening mix of twisting metal and exploding consoles. The sheild generators had been overwhelmed and blown out in the Captain's last ditch effort and the engineering level was by far the busiest part of the ship. The Captain was busily looking over the damage report that had been transferred to his HUD, that was until power was routed from internal sensors to aid in the repair process. That did not stop him from detecting a minor hull breach on deck four near the bow of the ship, interesting how this had not happened on impact along with the other breaches. All the boarding parties were moving towards the front of the ship and many of the crew had donned their armour and armed themselves to repel any republic troops that dared to come aboard.
The Echani paused in his advance forward, his plans needed to change. He quickly looked at where his main lieutenants were on the ship, not using the internal sensors but the almost un-noticable tracking devices that he had on them. Dred was nearest to the latest breach along with a boarding party of Black Guard, whereas Kraval was nearest to the front of the Cutlass. Arkan would not let them have all the glory. ::Dred, there is a new hull breach on deck four, section 12 near the bow of the ship. I believe this is an attempt by the enemy to insert assets aboard the Cutlass. Proceed there with all haste and investigate. Kraval, you must lead the boarding parties aboard and sabotage the enemies main engines and main reactor in that order, if possible. I shall lead our forces through the ship towards the enemy bridge to distract their defence forces away from your efforts.:: The Captain then cut the comlink and began to rush towards his own entry point onto the enemy vessel. He knew his crew would do their jobs, and he knew the enemy would make all efforts to protect their ship. The Bloodrage Pirates were very skilled at taking ships from their crew and he hoped the enemy knew that too. They would make their main effort to protecting the bridge as the pirates achieved their true objective.
Arkan reached his breaching point just as the boarding party had cut through the twisted metal of both ships. They paused as their leader arrived but Arkan did not, pause that is. He charged at the breach and threw his entire weight into a shoulder barge that sent him and a large amount of scorched metal flying into the Republic Destroyer. The armoured pirate rolled through the breach and began firing his blaster in all directions. He glimpsed his boarding party following him, firing their heavy repeaters in all directions as they hurried through the breach. He would enjoy this little outing!
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Post by Alkor Centaris on May 13, 2013 22:01:44 GMT -8
Alkor sighed as Mike walked up to the hull of the ship impaling the Angel, and then shook his head when the hull of the ship scattered into dust. The man stepped in nonchalantly, and Alkor quirked an eyebrow. So, Adieumus felt that Alkor needed to lay off the drink, but there were Jedi Masters like this one? Folding his arms and closing his eyes, Alkor stowed all of the questions that threatened to enter his mind and took a long breath to close his mind.
As the door imploded toward the boarding crew that had hastily made there way to the heart of the intrustion, Ornix stepped out of the way as if nothing were wrong, his weapon leveling on the doorway. As the dust came up, followed swiftly by blasterfire, Ornix pulled at the trigger and let loose a burst, after which the guardsmen scrambled to follow suit. Three of them had been bowled over by the door, one of them crushed beneath the weight of it.
Taking cover, the squad did their very best to repel the invaders, as the section of the ship was slowly sealed off.
Alkor looked upward, sensing the disorder far below, and he glanced at Mike. It was time to go. "Run," he said hastily, pushing past the old Corellian and igniting his blue saber. "Hold position, guard unit. If this ship pulls back, you do the same. Lock it down and get to air."
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Dred Vizsla
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Post by Dred Vizsla on May 14, 2013 11:36:30 GMT -8
Dred needs no further instructions. Flipping off the shoulder drape with the Death Watch symbol on it, he puts on his buy'ce and makes a direct course in a full sprint. Being 6'10" he covers the distance quickly. With both rippers out he lays down a hail of fire on the first unfortunate souls to make it on with both barrels blazing. It would be hard to avoid such a barrage but not everyone who entered would be struck down either. Those he misses, he uses the contents in the hold to cover them in flammable liquids. Once out of ammo, Dred takes cover to reload his rippers.
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Kraval Ordo
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My armor is my life. I take it off only when I feel it is safe to do so.
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Post by Kraval Ordo on May 14, 2013 15:47:16 GMT -8
When the comm message went out, Kraval was already at one of the breaching point that gave the republic cruiser access to the Cutlass. Kraval had taken cover behind sum of the debris and lays down a hail of fire on the unfortunate souls that tried to come abroad with his mandalorian assault rifle. A 4 man squad of Executioners(Armed with precision silenced slug throwers, Cortosis weave bayonets and swords along with a multitude of blades. Equipped with heavily modified duranium armor) follow up in-sync with the mandalorian merc by providing covering fire.....picking off any targets that survived the Mandalorian's assault. Once the first wave of souls were dealt with, Kraval led his squad on board the republic cruiser. He cautiously led his squad towards the their attended destination which was the main reactor of the cruiser picking off any hostiles that he may come across.
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Post by Alkor Centaris on May 14, 2013 21:25:26 GMT -8
Emergency override protocols engaged. All personnel, please remain calm. Lockdown sequence initated.
The servos grinded to a halt loudly, impeding any forward bound boarders with large blast doors. Any invading attempt would require a slicer on hand working their trade. Suppressing fire came from behind barricades and around corners, where Republic personnel held out and stood their ground. Ornix gave the command for chafe grenades to be tossed, scrambling sensors and communications technology. Further, the troops kept their personal shielding devices active, outfitted by the Watch for just such a situation.
Mandalorians.
Alkor had not anticipated them, but he was always dimly aware of the threat, now that their Mand'alor had declared a crusade against anything sensitive to the Force. Omnicide, and worse- not even children were sacred to Ashrah Intalbo, and it seemed, not to his lot, either. Mercenaries though they may have been, these men were in serious violation of a good deal of ordinances-
Oh, piss on that! Alkor was staring into the maw of the beast as a hail of gunfire blurred past him, ripping through where he had just been standing. He pulled Mike swiftly behind him, using the wall as cover, and watched as flammable materials spilled out from hazmat containers and pooled on the floor, making their escape route nothing short of a deathtrap. He didn't speak to Mike, though- no, Alkor was far too focused on the Force, fluctuating wildly.
The fire stopped, the Mandalorian ducking beneath cover to reload what Alkor guessed to be Mandalorian Rippers. Great. Of all the worst guns a bastard boarder could have, they HAD to be Rippers. Alkor peered deftly out toward the man, who was rather large and thus stood out like a sore thumb, in spite of the cover hiding him. Alkor saw the shadow, and bit into his lip, drawing on the pain to focus himself. What can be said? Old habits die hard.The spike in the Force was unnatural around Alkor, who's eyes went wide and took on a wild look as he strained to call more and more power to himself greedily. There was no easy way to build energy for what he was about to do, and most of his emotions were far too volatile to draw upon now without ripping someone apart in the throes of violent outburst, but Alkor maintained control of the power he tapped.
And he reached out toward the large man's mind, calmly stroking the outer layer of defenses there, the saber in his hand disengaging as his eyes rolled back in his head, concentration seizing him. A shaky breath came inaudibly from his lips, his body trembling as his mind slithered outward like a viper through blades of grass, and then, sank his mental fangs in, and twisted.
Unlike most mind tricks that Jedi played with, Alkor had been trained in darker arts. Illusions only scratched the surface of debased mental arts, darker and darker until they sent men into the droves of madness.
And that was the sort of trickery Alkor employed now. His body shook in abject refusal of the power he tapped, his mind reeling and his body now convulsing as he poured the power on.Insanity. Blood poured from Alkor's open mouth and tears streamed down his cheeks, but nothing would compare to what he conjured. C'thulu had put him through this once- flesh ripping away, worms burrowing through sinew. Blood trickling out of the pores, pus festering in newly opened wounds. He would feel it, he would see it, he would taste the bile in his mouth as his stomach reeled at the realism of it all, though that presumed he was not ready for such a thing. Most Mandalorians had a great defense against them mental arts, but this was no paltry mind trick. This was the most perverse, invasive of force powers.
And it showed in his pale and sickly Alkor looked, his body suddenly besieged by darkness. Master Frantz would feel it, but hopefully, he would seize the moment to overtake the large man, Dred, who's name they did not know.
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Johun Starfield
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Post by Johun Starfield on May 16, 2013 11:45:28 GMT -8
Johun brought his Omnifighter inline with the XS freighter. Arnie, bring shield power around mostly around to the front. He unleashed a volley of laser cannon fire. It would take a few moments to get a torpedo lock.
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Gukky
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I remember... The Major.
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Post by Gukky on May 16, 2013 21:06:22 GMT -8
The Reaver jackboots alerted Gustav to the fact that the Cutlass' recent convulsions were not simply mechanical difficulties, but was the beginning of a boarding action. Or being boarded. Gustav was a bit fuzzy on that point. He had not been with the pirates long enough to tell the difference. The introductory pamphlet he got when he joined had a digram showing what to do. Flicking to the relavant page, it did not seem too complicated. Shoot everything that was not pirate-y.
He grabbed his coat and joined the Reaver mob that was reinforcing a Death Watch Mandalorian who was single-handedly gutting the boarded ship. The Reavers started laying down suppressive fire at the defenders - at this point two Jedi who were taking cover. By Gustav's estimation, the bulkhead would soon disintegrate under the murderous bombardment. Whipping out a revolver that seemed to hang awkwardly from his asparagus thin arm, he lined up a shot at the one Jedi. He didn't have a clear shot, but the penetrating power would shred the bulkhead that separated them. With a surgeon's steady hand, he fired at Alkor.
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Finna
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Post by Finna on May 17, 2013 10:59:46 GMT -8
The first sign of something being wrong came with a quiet humming of his commlink, waking Finna from his rest. A soft, synthesized tone informed him that "The ship is under attack, please report to the bridge."
Well isn't that just a great way to wake up.
Less than a minute later, Finna had splashed his face, dressed, slipped on his armor and seized his gear belt, and was out the door, sprinting for the bridge. He reached it mere minutes later, and was promptly directed to the source of the breach. He turned and was sprinting again, wings of Force energy billowing behind him and gathering to him as he prepared for battle. The boy still wore no lightsaber; he had to yet to be given the chance to build one, but no matter: Finna was carrying his rifle, two stun grenades, and his personal baton. Twenty-six inches long, an inch thick. A synthetic grip and flexible mid-core, able to withstand almost any punishment, and sheathed in thin ultrachrome plates connected to the internal power core. A weapon that could disable a bantha at full power. Finna kind of liked it. It was quick, nimble, hard-hitting, dangerous - and anyway, it was all he had.
Well, beyond his armor. Thin, hardened sheets of molded duranium, guarding his chest, his back, his arms from elbow to hand, and his legs from shin to bridge.
The Echani Jedi could hear the growing sounds of combat as he came closer, turning corners by veering up the walls. He unslung his rifle, readying to fire as soon as he had a target - and then he turned another corner, sprinted down another hallway, and was into the room hosting the fight. Finna tapped the power of the Light, Speeding himself momentarily as he assessed the situation: Mandalorians, pirates, a lot of them. All shooting. He needed to get under cover. As the milliseconds ticked by, Finna unclipped one of his two stun grenades, and hurled it into the midst of the invaders. As the projectile arced through the air, Finna noticed something else: a weedy man, looking very prim and proper, and aiming a shot at - Alkor.
Aiming his own rifle, Finna sighted in on the man's chest, and fired a quick three-shot burst, releasing the Speeding power as he ducked behind another bulkhead, opposite to Alkor and Master Frantz.
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Dred Vizsla
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Post by Dred Vizsla on May 17, 2013 11:48:25 GMT -8
*Dred had finished reloading and was about to turn, when the initial feeling of someone probing his mind. He had very little time to employ resistance when the first wave was upon him. Instinctively Dred starts counting backwards in his head in Manda'o from 100 in a thick Concordian dialect. Within seconds he starts to get a better grip on his surroundings and reaches for a speed stim. Injecting it into his thigh it gives him a small reprieve from the illusions of his guts twisting and him sweating blood profusely. A focus of real pain. This internal battle lasts for a few agonizing moments.*
*Dred knows this tactic he thinks to himself in between his countdown. In his mind he screams, HUT'TUUN DAR'JETII!! And goes back to his countdown.*
*He spins around cover holstering his remaining weapons just in time to catch three shots while still struggling to fight off the insanity effect. Two in the chest and one in his buy'ce. Beskar'gam had little flaws, and the first two shots knock the wind out of him and the third snaps his head back and forth quickly.If he didn't have his buy'ce on they would see him smile. Holding up his right arm, he takes his left arm and activates his napalm flamethrower and blankets the entire room in fiery death. One of the few things that Jedi have a tough time with besides rippers. Fire. The next thing he says to the shooter, after he gets his breath back, is a sarcastic thank you in a thick Concordian dialect, still fighting off the effects by counting, as he canvases every known surface. That being said they would have to retreat or be horribly burned to advance their next attack. This was an act of panicked desperation as he barreled forward like a raging beast.*
"Ni vor entye hut'tuun dar'jetii."
*He spoke eerily calm, even though he wanted to scream and destroy everything around it just to make the visions and pain stop.*
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Gukky
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I remember... The Major.
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Post by Gukky on May 17, 2013 18:20:07 GMT -8
Gustav's frame bent slightly from the recoil, but he kept his sights straight. He could feel the cocktail of stimulants and nerve augmentation turning his otherwise soft wad of cookie dough into a block of wood. He had more implants than an Arkanian and most of them were from Arkania. Gustav didn't take his chances with the bootleg stuff. His major (and minor) organs, his limbs and senses were all linked together. What kind of a doctor would Gustav be if he couldn't heal his own body? Or have a body that was better than most mortals?
Philosophical implications aside, the implants were a great help in a fire-fight, as it was in theater. His glasses flashed an peripheral warning from from his new combat package that there were two stun grenades coming his way. The combat package also sent a signal to his life support package preparing his body for the intense light and noise shock. Gustav saw the grenadier before the HUD blanked his vision. He jammed fingers in his ears, careful to blow his head off with his revolver and opened his mouth.
"Stun grenade!"
The Reavers were more of less equipped to deal with these situations but the warning gave them a chance to turn away from the intense non-lethal blast.
flash! bang!
Gustav's HUD cleared immediately after and he was able to see the Jedi grenadier turned rifleman aiming at his person. Gustav fumbled his revolver to shoot back when the Death Watch Mandalorian sailed as smoothly as an iceberg in front of the shots. His body jerked as the bolts, that surely would have killed Gustav, hit him. It was different from theater. There he saw the aftermath. Here he saw how exactly these wounds were caused. And he was ready for them. Quickly assembling a mental checklist for what would make the hurt go away, Gustav prepared his syringe. A care package of endorphines that would blunt the pain and make his feel like a million bucks. He didn't want to sedate him too much, so a booster would be in order. And watching Dred torch the world around him, Gustav knew just what he needed. Type 92 - a mild psychotropic that was used by a militas the galaxy over for making berserkers with brains out their troops. Gustav cut him a moderate dose.
The Reavers were pushing up with the Mandalorian and Gustav hung right behind him. Spying a gap in his armor, near his kidneys, Gustav plunged the needle in. The implant guided the tip into a vien. Probably before Dred notices the prick behind him, he'll be a new man.
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Bloodrage Pirates
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Yo ho, yo ho a pirate's life for me!
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Affiliation: Piracy
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Post by Bloodrage Pirates on May 18, 2013 5:05:20 GMT -8
Arkan had rolled out into a large room with many Republic troops in, the Star Destroyer had been ready for them. This mattered little as he found cover for himself, a metal crate, not much taller than his waist was all he could find. He leaned over the box and began to lay down covering fire for his boarding party, now scrambling through the hole in the hull. Cries pierced through the gunfire as members of the boarding party were cut down before they got clear of the breach, acceptable losses. Soon there were four members of the boarding party aboard the Republic ship, laying down un-relenting fire towards the surprisingly well equipped Republic troops. Arkan had glimpsed something that he had not seen in a long time, someone wearing what looked like Jedi robes, that would explain the elite troops on board. He would leave the Jedi scum to the Mandalorians, they had far more experience in that matter than he. Interference from the defenders meant that the pirates began to use hand signals to co-ordinate their actions, which were simple enough. The sounds and visual impairment of the stun grenades was only a minor annoyance for the seasoned warrior as he made sure his escorts knew what to do.
Arkan relinquished his cover to the Black Guard as they suppressed the defenders for his little manoeuvre. He bolted towards the side of the room, his armour taking two glancing hits from Republic made blasters. The blast door had been sealed but the ventilation system was still vulnerable. The Captain shifted his blaster into his left hand, firing as he ran, and removed his sword from his armour with his right. Enhanced by his mechanical armour the Captain jumped up to where the nearest ventilation duct was and sunk his sword into the wall next to it for leverage. Ripping off the grill that guarded the entrance he threw it towards the remaining Republic defenders and dived inside, his sword remaining sunk into the wall. The boarding party would distract the defenders by staging a frontal assault and funnel reinforcements through the hull breach to pressure the enemy.
Arkan found himself barely able to fit down the ventilation duct but he was able to shuffle along until he found an exit. He dropped out quite a distance away from the majority of the fighting, thanks to the localised nature of the ramming tactic. He found himself in a small corridor with two choices, double back around behind the defenders and help his crew push forward onto the ship or to proceed to distract or prevent reinforcements from reaching his crew. It took him only a fraction of a second to decide, if his crew were so pathetic they could not brush aside the Republic troops and a Jedi or two then he needed a new crew. He raised his blaster and began to make his way tactically down the corridor away from the fighting. If he could take the bridge then maybe he could even take the whole ship!
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Kraval Ordo
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My armor is my life. I take it off only when I feel it is safe to do so.
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Post by Kraval Ordo on May 18, 2013 6:53:39 GMT -8
Kraval continued his advancement through the Republic Destroyer as he fought through wave after wave of Republic Soldiers that tried to stop him and/or his squad of Executioners. Kraval was never the type to lead a squad since he always prefer the solo routine even with big operations such as the one he was in now. Kraval found himself in a large corridor of the Destroyer that was heavily barricaded and block by a large blast door along with being guarded by a large platoon of Republic troopers. "guess word got out that the pirates had Mandalorians in their company.......ahh, good times" Kraval thought as he and his squad got into cover and brought the rain in upon the republic soldiers.
Kraval fire off mutliple shots from his assault rifle while the Executioners continued the pressure by ducking in and out of cover with their precision, silenced slug throwers. Arkan trained his Executioners very well in being very accurate and deadly when in a fight and more so when they are out-gunned or worst out-numbered. Kraval had taken four shots; two into both shoulders, which knocked the wind out of him and one towards his buy'ce that jerked his head back and forth. Beskar'gram had very little flaws in its structure and Kraval could only smiled underneath his buy'ce when he felt the impact from those shots. He lifted up his right arm and with a simple voice command in his Mando'a, fired three 3 centimeter-diameter circular blades in a high-speed spinning motion from his Vac Attack Mk-127. The spinning blades made contact into the necks of three republic officers.
Kraval ducked downed into cover while the Executioners continued firing at the soldiers. Kraval took a moment to reach into his belt and pull out two Class-A thermal detonators that were pre-set to go off in 5 seconds once primed. One of the Executioners noticed what the Mandalorian had pulled out and signal his boys to take cover the second the Mandalorian tossed the detonators. Kraval quickly primed and tossed both detonators at the squad of republic soldiers. Kraval and the Executioners took cover and brass themselves for the big explosion that might shake the ship up a tad bit.
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Post by Jedi Knight Mahir on May 23, 2013 15:30:50 GMT -8
Having tailed the XS with the skill of natural talent blended with decades of experience, Shihab managed to get a torpedo lock long enough to launch two torpedoes, fired one after the other to minimize the chances of the pilot being able to dodge both torpedoes. Rolling his fighter around Shihab parked his cross-hairs on the engine sections of the Cutlass, and fired two pairs of torpedoes as soon as the lock tone chimed. Against a Light cruiser the damage would likely be minimal, but it would hinder the ship's out bound journey, and possibly vent some atmosphere from one of the engineer decks. Shihab performed a tight Immelman, pointing his fighter back along his previous vector, and switched to lasers, dual linked, and gave chase to the XS once more, peppering the ships ventral aft(bottom rear) sections with laser fire, while staying, mostly, out of the defensive turrets respective fields of fire.
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Krzesimir Viggo
The First Order
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Post by Krzesimir Viggo on May 30, 2013 14:55:31 GMT -8
With a burst of multi-spectrum radiation a small ship exits hyperspace. 300 meters long, making it a Light Cruiser by size, the ship was slightly shorter than the carrak-class ship and only 1/3 the size of the Victory-class, that were before it. The two approaching Nebulons were the same length, and the Coronas were only just shy of its size. It broadcast a neutral IFF signal as it scanned the system. Its shield are up but its weapons and sublights are cold. The commander notes the apparent battle going on, but does not offer aid to either side, though he does put his pilots on high alert, ordering them to their ships, in case they were needed.Lieutenant Eli: Well, we seem to have stumbled upon a bit of a skirmish here. Awfully daring of the Carrack captain to board a destroyer nearly three times it's size. Especially considering the most Destroyers that size carry more troops than a Carrack has crew. And yet, those impact fractures are pretty clear that it was the one doing the ramming...Corporal 1st class: Perhaps it was a last ditch manuver, hoping to take the Victory-StarDestroyer out in a suicide run. Lieutenant Eli: In which case, the commander is no less foolish, and has failed his objective. Standby, I expect we shall be hailed shortly. |
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Johun Starfield
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Post by Johun Starfield on Jun 7, 2013 19:57:52 GMT -8
Suddenly, The Lux Patronus's controls locked up. It continued straight on its path, caught in Ryloth's gravitational pull towards Ryloth's surface...
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The Major
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Also known as Sailor Titan
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Post by The Major on Jun 8, 2013 22:41:47 GMT -8
"Wie schön."
Interesting, even unexpected encryption. Still, it was laughably low brow once you discovered the pattern repeated all over the ship. Really? Did one engineer pick all the passwords? Still, these Republic types weren't completely stupid. On the contrary, they had enough sense to keep the reactor and the bridge systems separate from the rest of security. Plenty of mischief to cause with the remainder, however, and the Fallanassi would have to use that to comfort her as she now played with the ship's systems like one would a piano. The typical and expected lockouts came to ruin the fun, but that was nothing that a little coding and ample use of the now hundreds of back doors in the system couldn't handle. First, she accessed personnel logs and video feeds, then communications regarding the battle inside were intercepted. Next, the armory was locked down into emergency status, as if there was a hull breach there. This would prevent the troopers from gathering any heavy weapons against her allies, and also redundantly keep them from accessing the very explosives that would be needed to blast the bulkhead apart and open. Finally, using the data collected on all the pirates on board, the woman creates a number of traps to excel their progress. Sections of the ship seal off while life support fails, causing any soldier, officer, or engineer to fall dead within a few minutes if they did not have the proper oxygen tanks and gear in the effected sections. From now on significantly less reinforcements would be able to attack the boarders, so long as they did not blast open the doors that kept them at bay. Power is set to reset in intervals, causing all the lights in the combat areas to turn off, wait, then turn on. They were spaced apart to be as annoying and distracting to the human eye as possible, which would hopefully cause many troopers and pirates to makes mistakes, get detracted, and get cut down.
"Der mandos vwill be fine. They have sunglasses!"
The way to the bridge for Arkan was left unabused. After all, she had seen him on the security cameras trying to sneak around, before disabling as many as possible from this terminal. The direction of his advance made his intent clear: he was headed for the bridge. With any luck, and a bit of brisk walking, the Fallanassi would arrive there at the same time. With this in mind, she removes her datapad from the spliced computer terminal, and slips out of the room.
One moment, the Major is a rather macabre looking woman in a black wool suit. The lights flicker and die. A minute passes. They slap back on, and now she is a Republic trooper in full garb, steadily marching pass a few actual troopers here and there, heading for the glory only the bridge could offer.
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Post by Alkor Centaris on Jun 11, 2013 16:55:01 GMT -8
The world was cold.
In spite of the hellish inferno, if not for Mike grabbing his robes and dragging him beyond the napalm spray, Alkor would not even feel himself being burned to death. His emaciated face was contorted in horror, eyes wide and hollow, as if beset by some horrid vision that he could not wipe away. Darkness coiled still around his mind, his body shivering under the frigid weight that threatened to crush him entirely. Frothing blood spewed down his chin from either corner of his mouth, and someone beyond awareness, he stared with abject hatred at the giant, armored figure who he had intended to rip apart mentally.
And Alkor screamed. Deep, feral, inhuman in every way- no logical meaning, no definitive words- his scream was something beyond just anger. His entire being rejected the fire breathing machine now beyond his reach. "DIE!!!!" came the damning curse from somewhere within him, but it was too late. Alkor was a world away now, beyond a place where he could take the man's life, for all of his longing.
Both bandaged hands reached out, as if clutching, as if to crush the entire world in their eclipsing grasp, but the fire consumed his vision. Smoke clouded everything. He had been repelled. As a Jedi, he had failed completely. But not just to abate the threat. Alkor had failed to curb his lust for murder. His eyes twitched as he fumed in resignation, forcing Mike away and slamming both fists on the floor of the deck. Conscripts and regulars alike flinched at the sudden terror that rippled through them, and Alkor stared madly at the floor, his unabated need to drink blood now permeating the force.
And Mike cuffed him hard, again. Some solemn words about failure. Some stern reminder that, this anger, these terrifying notions of absolute destruction, were no longer a part of him. Alkor was trembling. Dripping sweat. Wide eyes bled tears. And he choked on his own hatred. "They're going to die," Alkor whispered, "and I can't do a bloody thing."
****
Ornix blinked as the loud beeping heralded blazing death. The thunk of metal on the floor, the silence that spanned beyond paltry blasterfire as men hurtled themselves for cover. Jefra watched his life flashing in front of his eyes, and was startled to see a soldier fling himself forward. Another pair of arms grabbed at him, pulled him with undeniable force, peeling him back, back and away as tesrs and recognition filled his eyes. "Let me go!!" He screamed, howling in defiance, railing against the injustice playing itself out before him. The recruit. Manfredo. He had flung himself on to the detenator, seeking to waylay some of the blast.
But Jefra would not be allowed to witness. Screaming in agony at the events transpiring, now completely beyond him to abate, Jefra blinked back tears. Behind the plastoid barriers, flames belching from the hallway just beyond the bend, ten men and women were swallowed by pure heat energy. Nothing left burn ashes and echoes.
And Jefra Ornix lost his composure for the first time since graduating the academy. "Kill them all," he ordered in a stern, yet barely contained cool voice. "Down to the last man."
The crackle of blasters coming to life gave rise to a new terror; small orbs of metal trickled out from around the corner, and Ornix counted silently to five. Then, a brilliant blue-green flash. A flicker. A hiss. The sound of electronics sighing and powering down against their will. Electromagnectic pulses, poping off one after the other, in a vibrant staccato.
Jefra smirked, his beastial and toothy grin sent a chill down the sergeant's spine. No wonder he had been called Beasty during his days as an ensign.
*****
The whine of controls being overridden and doors slowly creaking open illicited a dull laugh from the obese bastard seated comfortably in the comm officer's seat. The security cameras showed nothing out of the ordinary, and that was just fine. Network security- though his real forte had been security undermining, before his generous comission- didn't require a line of sight. It was just keys on a board. "Like a game of chessss," he said with an appalling lisp, a man actually stopping to look unscrupulously at him, as if he did not belong.
Wiping the orange dust from his cheetoes on his tight fitting garb, "the Hacker," as he was called, cued the triumphant symphony. No, it was true- he held no martial prowess, no skill at all with weapons, and his skill with women was unparalleled... ly bad. But at a screen with his arse in a chair and the letters at his fingertips, the fat man was a force ro be reckoned with.
The sneaky git was good- Hack gave him (or her?) that. But no source was untraceable. Especially. Not on Hack's network.
It took a moment to isolate the bugger. He couldn't stop the first few doors from creaking open- and that was just fine! Didn't need to. But he could contain the hacker. He could force the bastard to have to worm his way back in. And then, the culprit would get it. The coup de'grace. Hacker's most brilliant machine. The Tunneling Menace he called... the Termite.
Ok. So the fat ass had no real imagination. But what he didn't have in imagination, Hack made up for in sheer brilliance. "Just try and get in my house again, bro," he said with a smug grin, "come at me."
And Hack scratched at his hairy bum, drawing looks from all the men present. And the Comm's officer swore up and down he smelled flatulence. 'And in my chair, too,' he lamented silently, 'I don't know what's worse. Invasion or this bastard's B.O.'
Indeed. It was probably the B.O.
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Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
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Post by Deleted on Jun 12, 2013 20:11:21 GMT -8
It had taken...well, a while. After Yavin, Dante’s tiny little ship became separated from the primary battle group headed to Coruscant...indeed, after a particularly unlucky hit to his port nacelle; he was left drifting for near four days. That is, until his message was received. His ships appeared as fast as able...eventually picking himself up, giving him a hot meal, and of course – much needed sleep and bathing. It was only now, after the Yavin battle, that Dante headed out back into space – with quite some time passing after the events of Yavin – to try and reestablish ties with the Watchmen. He had, after all, perhaps, become a little attached to the group. Dare he admit it? However, he had no ambitions to try and directly contact the jedi...this simply wasn’t his style. Thus being so, Corellia, Felucia, and a myriad of other planets were off limits for making contact...so an ulterior plan formed in his mind; approach the republic, and go through the republic to try and get a hold of Adi. It was in his mind, that senator...Crommen? Crom’nen?...was of important stature in the galactic republic...and, perhaps, he could negotiate the entrance of Vandelhelm into the republic by showing up in force, as a “stellar bastion of light” in the employ of the Jedi.
Such as it was, that Dante made his way to Rhyloth...
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There was first one burst of light, then a second, then a third; in the wake of each flash, a form stretched out of hyperspace into realspace, eventually consolidating into the iconic triangular shapes of three star destroyers. But not just any star destroyers; these were NEBULA-class star destroyers...built and designed to be far tougher and more durable than their predecessors...these ships were literally designed to go toe to toe with ships of similar class – and win, every time. The three destroyers were painted in a dull gray, with a peculiar symbol - a golden star edged in black, with two dark dots underneath it in a line – plastered on the port and starboard side of the ships in question.
They appeared in a standard convoy formation, a delta formation, an safe distance from the planet. This was, after all, a surprise diplomatic visit...and while a show of force was in order, it was Dante’s every intention NOT to throw the planet into chaos by the arrival of a fleet in the system. Thus so, the ships remained a ways away, and ran some passive scans to locate the nearest government ship – as to send a friendly greeting. You can imagine what transpired when they found something altogether different than the peaceful system they had hoped for...
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=Sensors Technician=
“Commander! Sensors indicate concentrated weapons fire in quadrant 43B of the planetary system sir!”
Dante, standing on the bridge of the lead ship, frowned slightly at the news. Shaking his head, he jerked his head to the comms technician.
=Dante=
“Run a comm sweep. See if we can pick up any traffic.”
There was a moment as the tech held a headset to her ear, listening intently...before eventually setting it down and shaking her head.
=Comm tech=
“No relevant communications...a good deal are encrypted.”
With a frown, Dante eyed the planet from the bridge of the ship...and then with a sigh, waved his hand at the bridge crew.
=Dante=
"Prepare all hands for battle stations, alert our sister ships to our condition and deploy a convoy wide alert; all hands to battle stations, shields to full, troops at the ready, and strike craft prepared to launch in five minutes. Begin weapon windup – I want them hot when we come into weapons range. Prepare all missile tubes and draw sublight engines to three quarter impulse...make speed, but be cautious. Lastly, prepare to initiate a sensor pulse at the battling ships...I want IFF data on those combatants. MOVE.”
The bridge came alive with cries of “Aye aye Commander!” and the quick chatter of crewmen opening comm channels to the convoy and across the ship itself – one by one, cries of affirmative filtered in from all over the ships, as men and women readied their stations, and reported all conditions green and ready for battle. In the hangar bays, crews scurried to ready strike craft, and space troopers donned armor for possible insertion...meanwhile, strike troopers donned gear and weapons, and took up anti boarding positions at key points all over the ship; the ships anti intruder defenses were also activated, the system of auto turrets coming alive across the entirety of the ship, and various bulkheads closing and locking down. Secondary and tertiary backups and fail safes initiated to prevent boarding procedures – the ships were compartmentalized via closed bulkheads and blastdoors, with power to said doors being PHYSICALLY diverted at the engine rooms via a physical rerouting of industrial fuses and relay switches – most of the ships compartments were thus relegated to backup power generation, leaving only the lights, gravity, and life support functioning with the exceptions of key areas of the ship. Electronic warfare measures were also put into place – with compartments relegated to backup power, the vast majority of electronic access to the ship was relegated to the bridge, engineering, and the reactor – with access across most compartments being absolutely nominal – comlink PA system only. Thus so, the ships security systems became essentially restricted to an entirely separate network on the ship – only accessable from aforementioned key areas, though with the most key access point being the ships data hub just off the bridge, which itself was run by three EI-9 network security droids per ship. Lastly, in uninhabited areas of the ship, all air was vented from said areas, as well as life support and gravity being shutdown as to grant an additional powerboost (3%) to whatever systems Dante deemed fit.
Some would see Dante’s measures as extreme...but, Dante was also a former privateer...he knew just how deadly boarding actions could be...and he also had a great deal of knowledge on just how to stop them. Besides the fact, Dante’s previous military history also came in handy...he didn’t ear the title of “Commander” for nothing. No indeed.
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Five minutes had passed, and the trio of ships drew within extreme weapons range of the battle. Additionally, a sensor ping was sent out by the ships to the battle, identifying any friendly entities...and low and behold when a Galactic republic ship identified its IFF back to the trio of ships. The information was relayed to Dante, who had taken the time to dress in his military uniform, as well as armor himself in some light spacetrooper armor. Carrying the helmet under an arm, Dante reviewed the information by looking over a techs shoulder.
Seemed a small task force, republic, was being engaged by another small task force, with two ships from each side ramming into each other. No doubt there was boarding going on at the moment. Shaking his head at the shoddy mess, Dante stood tall on the bridge, and motioned for a crewmen to send an encrypted transmission to the republic fleet.
=Dante=
(Encrypted) Republic taskforce, this is the Vandelhelm diplomatic group under the command of Commander Dante Deveaux, requesting a status report on your condition, and a friendly offer to give you aid – should you need it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In all, the following jump into the system:
1 Nebula-class destroyer; "The Emissary"
• 1,6000 Shock troopers (Regular): armored in standard full body battle armor, armed with A280 blaster rifles and a DL-44 blaster pistol, as well as two fragmentation grenades.
• 750 Space troopers (Elite): armored in light spacetrooper armor (medium armor) equipped with a plasma cutter and a light repeating blaster.
• 30 CF9 Crossfire starfighters: C-Alpha, C-Beta, and C-Theta squadrons respectively.
• 15 Katar-class boarding craft (unarmed in favor of stronger shielding).
1 Nebula-class star destroyer; "The Valiant"
• 1,6000 Shock troopers (Regular): armored in standard full body battle armor, armed with A280 blaster rifles and a DL-44 blaster pistol, as well as two fragmentation grenades.
• 750 Space troopers (Elite): armored in light spacetrooper armor (medium armor) equipped with a plasma cutter and a light repeating blaster.
• 30 K-wing starfighters: K-Alpha, K-Beta, and K-Theta squadrons respectively.
• 15 Katar-class boarding craft (unarmed in favor of stronger shielding).
1 Nebula-class star destroyer; "The Arbiter"
• 1,6000 Shock troopers (Regular): armored in standard full body battle armor, armed with A280 blaster rifles and a DL-44 blaster pistol, as well as two fragmentation grenades.
• 750 Space troopers (Elite): armored in light spacetrooper armor (medium armor) equipped with a plasma cutter and a light repeating blaster.
• 30 I4-ionizer starfighters: I-Alpha, I-Beta, and I-theta squadrons.
• 15 Katar-class boarding craft (unarmed in favor of stronger shielding).
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Mike Frantz
Member
That Guy
Posts: 721
Affiliation: The Jedi Order
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Post by Mike Frantz on Jun 14, 2013 10:36:47 GMT -8
I stand silently for a moment still in shock about what has happened, almost as if I had moved automatically, without any control over my own limbs... or my writer had just been a fool with internet issues... one of the two. In any case it only took a moment of breathing and a long swig from my flask to bring me back into reality. A moment of calm in a chaotic battle for our lives, as well as the lives of others. On top of that it was a battle, a losing battle I have to admit, for the sanity of the man in front of me. A broken man who should not have been out here to begin with, much less on his own. What the hell was Adi thinking. In any case I had made him my responsibility and there was no way I would shirk that responsibility now.
Taking a long swing I hit the other man with the partially armored back of my hand, hard enough to maybe bruise, but not hard enough to cause too much damage. Snap out of it you daft fool. Of course you aren't going to be able to do anything about it if you stay there with your head burried in the deck. Get up and stand in the way. If you can't use your fancy tricks and giggles to stop them from killing your men then physically put yourself between them and don't move. Stand up and fight. My voice rises slowly as I talk, letting my compassion flow out through the force, keeping my own frustration well hidden. Alkor's fight was more with himself than the boarders or mandos. It was an internal struggle to protect those he now feels in a position to protect, a duty to keep alive. I open my mind up slowly, allowing his pain and anger flow into my being, facing it with the calm, directional, emotionless, state of mind that proved once and for all I was worthy of being a Jedi Master. That state of being consumes me, fighting mentally against Alkor's fears and hatred, slowly gathering up the pieces of him I know that he truly wants to be, slowly breaking down his internal walls, taking on as much of his pain and anger as I can, slowly chipping away at it, trying to bring back the man to the task at hand.
Any of the soldiers nearby would only get hint of the mental struggle going on, only the sweat coming from my brow and the cool look of concentration and stuggle in my eyes giving a hint that I'm involved at all. I ignore my comlink earpiece as a call comes in from the new taskforce, not able to even fully acknowledge the new force showing without losing concentrations, although as a former New Republic senator (even if it was 20 years prior) my comlink would still show up on the scanners, and anyone should be able to know I am on board, even without a response form me.
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