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Post by Whill Shaman Xixo on Feb 27, 2013 16:40:00 GMT -8
*The history is currently unknown.*
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Jen Aruda
Member
Posts: 12 
Affiliation: Family first.
Traffic Light: Blue
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Post by Jen Aruda on Jun 30, 2013 3:46:57 GMT -8
the ship carrying Aruda, Ginrei, and the three droids finally hit open space then a random planet is Chosen and once the hyperdrive is spun up the leap away into hyperspace.
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Post by Benjamin 'Smitty' Smith on Jul 19, 2013 9:38:02 GMT -8
as they exit hyper space Ben maneuvers the ship into close orbit then he turns to the pair and asks "ok whats the SOP (standard operating procedure) for landing on another planet?"
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Garwig Gil Ga'Mesh
Member
Looking forward to exploring the galaxy.
Posts: 420 
Affiliation: The New Order of the Jensaarai
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Garwig Gil Ga'Mesh on Jul 20, 2013 19:58:41 GMT -8
as they exit hyper space Ben maneuvers the ship into close orbit then he turns to the pair and asks "ok whats the SOP (standard operating procedure) for landing on another planet?" =Veroni Nova= As both the girls remained seated in their seats, Veroni who sat in the co-pilot seat spoke."First, we contact the planet's orbital traffic control to ask for landing clearance. We press this here button here..." She pressed a button at the light freighter's subspace transceiver terminal to send a signal meant for such traffic control places.::Nar Shaddaa orbital control, this is Veroni Nova and I'm with my friend's Smitty and Sharron in this why-yu-four-ten light freighter. We're asking for clearance to land on New Vertica on the planet. Over.::
Veroni said into the transciver, then they waited for a response.
=Traffic Control=
::Roger. Permission granted. Welcome to Nar Shadaa and enjoy your stay in New Vertica.::
=Sharron Octavia=
As soon as traffic control responded, the togruta spoke up to let the pilot know what to do next."Ok now. Fly toward New Vertica on the planetary surface and find the nearest spaceport. Once you find one, have the ship's landing legs extend and carefully land the ship on the floor of the spaceport's hangar."
Sharron told Smitty and both her as well as Veroni waited for Smitty to do as instructed. |
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Post by Benjamin 'Smitty' Smith on Jul 21, 2013 6:38:15 GMT -8
"alright cool thanks for that." Ben says as he turns back to the controls and pilots the ship down toward the blip on his sensors.
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Post by Celia Oshala on Sept 6, 2013 15:07:37 GMT -8
I play my sister's message over and over again on the journey, but am not able to gain any more information from it. I do, however, manage to work out from the metadata that the signal was routed through the communication satellite that handles transmissions from the Refugee Sector, so it's there I'm headed.
I am asleep when we drop out of hyperspace, but the ship's Sullustan co-pilot wakes me in time to throw on some clothes and join him and the pilot in the cockpit as we make our descent.
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Kaarn
Member
Posts: 50
Affiliation: None
Traffic Light: Yellow
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Post by Kaarn on Sept 17, 2013 9:47:55 GMT -8
The 'Red Nine' broke orbit and angled away from the planet, as her sole occupant made calculations for his next port of call. The various forces applied to the craft waned as the ship broke atmo, and all was comparatively silent for a moment as the ship settled, the only sound the rhythmic thrumm of the engines. The Hunter closed his eyes and allowed the silence of deep space to engulf his senses, before activating the hyperdrive. The 'Red Nine' disappeared into the stars.
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Liam Blood
Member
Posts: 102
Affiliation: Mandalore
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Post by Liam Blood on Oct 6, 2013 5:52:43 GMT -8
A single Victory II Star Destroyer emerges from Hyperspace near Nar Shaddaa. Her registry and IFF read as Bounty.
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Post by Benjamin 'Smitty' Smith on Oct 6, 2013 7:23:13 GMT -8
Ben exits Hyperspace and starts orbiting the planet after a bit of time passes he flips a coin and its heads so he heads for the Bounty asking permission to dock, once he receives it he carefully and gently puts it into the assigned spot for his ship without anything fancy being done and he orders his droids to guard the ship and only allow him to open any doors then he leaves the ship and locks the doors and follows the directions to the Bar
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Darian Beviin
Member
Posts: 206
Affiliation: Kad Ha'rangir
Traffic Light: Blue
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Post by Darian Beviin on Oct 7, 2013 11:01:49 GMT -8
As the ship croaked with the telltale drawl of a titan lurching begrudgingly into hyperspace, Darian watched Faust's initial punch with a mild degree of enthusiasm. The gut punch, while efficient as a means of surprising an opponent and capitalizing on some presumed opening, was far less effective in unarmed combat with an opponent of adept proficiency, or in the rare case, more than adept. It was no unspoken law that Mando'ade were versed in many forms of combat, some even before they came of age. For the Beviin clan, such truths were double.
Darian, once the Weaponmaster of Clan Beviin before his tragic self-imposed exile, had preached that of all the weapons a man could master, the first and most important were the mind, and the body. While many might dispute the veracity of that claim, Darian's knuckles had given it weight many times. And today, his silent preaching would be a testament to his former life.
The first punch came, powerful, with a great deal of weight behind it. Faust's purpose personified- swift, direct, powerful. Darian twisted his hips in fluid motion, the punch driving narrowly past his naked torso, so close that Darian felt the surge of air whisking past him. As he did so, Darian's right arm ripped downward, seeking to trap the outstretched arm between his hip and his elbow joint, locking his forearm underneath to keep control of the limb.
As Faust pulled backward, Darian grunted almost inaudibly, his obvious defiance more than visible as the other man punched- this time for his face. The foot came forward, driving power into the blow that would easily shatter bone, if it connected. Mandalorian brawls could be wicked that way. And every bit of damage dealt to either party was relayed as a lesson, and there was never a cause for vengeance. Sometimes, they even drank to the bloodshed.
There might even be a round in store for Faust, when all was said and done.
Nevertheless, the punch came, one arm in all likelihood struggling for freedom as the other sought to go over it and deal damage to Darian. Here was where it got dicey. As the punch came, due to Darian's position, Faust's weight would all be diverted to one side. Perfect for punches, especially ones with the intent to cause maximum damage. Unfortunately, also perfect position for getting hip tossed.
Since Darian buckled down the arm with his own- much like a seatbelt, in fact- he ducked down and turned his body, putting his hips in the direct path of Faust's midsection. This in turn would drag the other man's trapped arm along, and as the punch with the follow through step came (higher than Faust had probably anticipated, and therefore wide of it's original target), all of the youth's weight would find itself soaring through the air, and whipped head over heels over Darian's back. That was, unless Faust acted quickly to counteract the throw.
If not, well, that would be a nice little impact on the floor.
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Lia Corusa
Member
Just your average runaway Barbie biatch.
Posts: 86
Traffic Light: Blue
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Post by Lia Corusa on Oct 7, 2013 17:21:10 GMT -8
Swearing violently in Ryl, Twi’lek Chef Terl’ka stumbled drunkenly towards his new opponent, all orange fists and quivering headtails. He’d all but forgotten about Jeris, who was plastered against the bar counter, watching the scene unfold with eyes the size of Princess Leia’s buns. (The ones on her head, people, get your minds out of the gutter.) “Uh, Chef…” The dishwasher flicked his eyes nervously between Terl’ka and the man who had come to his rescue. There was no way the Twi’lek was coming out of this one without another bruise patchwork on his face. He gawked as the chef roared in drunk rage, charging the man again, arms swinging. “Chef! I wouldn't—“
The Twi’lek missed his mark, but the man at the bar didn't “—do that.” Jeris cringed as fist met bright, bruised orange face. Once, twice, three times. Silence fell. Terl’ka weaved unsteadily on the spot, eyes half closed, dribbling blood from mouth and nose. The victor calmly pushed a finger at his chest, and the chef keeled over backwards, landing on the bar floor with a solid, unconscious thud. A few of the rowdier tables clapped and whistled, guffawing at the better moments of the short little throw-down. After all, spacers love their bar action.
“And that,” Jeris muttered as he stared at the Twi’lek drooling on the floor, “is why I never go to bars.” The jumpy young man looked sideways at his rescuer, clearly nervous. How much had he heard? Would he be suspicious too? What if he already knew about Lia as well? What happens then? “Er, I would really love to buy you another drink in thanks for, y’know, saving my rear there, but… I dunno, maybe I should just go, guys like me don’t belong in bars. With drinks. And things.”
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Liam Blood
Member
Posts: 102
Affiliation: Mandalore
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Post by Liam Blood on Oct 7, 2013 17:42:15 GMT -8
It had been a short, efficient fight, and Liam had ended it quickly without doing the Chief any permanent damage. He stepped over the unconscious Twi'lek and flashed a quick grin to the cheering rowdies. Rubbing his knuckles, he walked over to the jittery looking young fellow.
Never mind that mate, i reckon you deserve to have a drink too. I'm Liam.
Figuring it was every man who did a day's work's right to have a cold refreshing intoxicant when the need took him, Liam wasn't about to let Jeris head home disconsolate. In his experience, the quiet ones generally had talent once they learned it was okay to show it. He'd talk to the kid, try and pass on some hard won wisdom and maybe see if he couldn't improve his lot. If the Twi'lek was any indication, the guy was alright.
Liam moved over to the bar and got them both a Corellian Whiskey. He took a sip, then turned away from the bar to look over at the slumbering Twi'lek. He looked briefly at Jeris as he spoke.
So, what's this problem with the big fella having a nap over there? As he spoke, a human bouncer and a KO-21 Bouncer Droid approached, lifted the Twi'lek to his feet, still out like a light, and carried him from the establishment. Small cleaning droids buzzed over to clean up the few small splashes of blood that briefly decorated the wall and floor.
He seemed pretty worked up about something.
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Post by Benjamin 'Smitty' Smith on Oct 7, 2013 18:26:19 GMT -8
Ben walks into the bar his swords on his back and his lightsaber on his bandolier and he walks up to the Bar, carefully eyeing the poor twi'lek being hauled out and the other customers around as he orders a simple beer
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Lia Corusa
Member
Just your average runaway Barbie biatch.
Posts: 86
Traffic Light: Blue
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Post by Lia Corusa on Oct 7, 2013 18:44:40 GMT -8
Jeris floundered mentally, mouth working like a fish out of water. “I-..uh.. well. I’m…a dishwasher,” he spluttered lamely, as if that answered all the questions. This Liam guy seemed the good sort. He’d stepped in and diverted trouble when it rose and Jeris appreciated that. If not for him, he’d probably be in medbay right now. The young man stuck out his hand in greeting, smiling awkwardly. “Jeris Kel. I work in the kitchens. That guy was my boss. He’s uh… had a few bad days recently.”
Feeling a tad more confident, Jeris took a generous swig of his whiskey. After choking and coughing for the next two minutes, he turned to regard Liam, cheeks red with embarrassment. “Potent!” he wheezed, wiping his eyes. “Name is Jeris. Obviously I don’t drink much. But…” Jeris had never been one to spill the beans. What friends he had considered him a loyal confidant and a good listener, and he’d never once betrayed their secrets. However, the more he stood at the bar and replayed the events, and the more whiskey he sipped, telling someone cool and trustworthy about Lia sounded better and better. The girl was a lot of pressure, and she wasn't exactly his friend either. Plus, he had his job to consider. What if the top dog found out and kicked him off the Bounty? Keeping something like this a secret was eating at his mind, and suddenly he felt he would burst into pieces if he didn’t share it with someone. Someone good, though. Someone who wouldn't carry it up the chain of command. And this guy seemed like the right choice.
With a gulp, Jeris scratched nervously at his neck, lowering his voice as he leaned a bit towards Liam. “Well…truth be told, the Twi’lek thinks I’m harboring a stowaway. And, well, he’s not wrong.” He raised his eyebrows conspiratorially. “She tried to work in the kitchens, but Chef Terl’ka caught her stealing money, so when he cornered her about it, she gave him a black eye and ran for it. I found her in my closet a few days ago. Pulled a blaster on me and everything! Been sneaking food up to her every day.” Well, wasn't that a relief! Jeris felt like a huge weight had lifted from his shoulders. “She just wants a ride, I think. Doesn't talk much. But man, is she intense. And she’s always got that blaster out.”
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Post by Benjamin 'Smitty' Smith on Oct 8, 2013 7:08:17 GMT -8
the Beer is placed before him and he places a credit chip next to it and picks up his beer as the Bartender takes the chip and he sips his beer while keeping an eye on the other customers around him
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Trull Ordo
Member
Posts: 94
Affiliation: The Mandalorian Empire
Traffic Light: Blue
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Post by Trull Ordo on Oct 8, 2013 22:09:49 GMT -8
It had taken longer than anticipated to track the Bounty. Ornik had arrived over Corellia in his battered Kimogila and found nothing awaiting him.
Seven-Six woke him when they exited hyperspace. It had been a long and slightly circuitous route; running back down the Corellian Run to Falleen before bouncing off that world's gravity well and using establish routes from there to the Smuggler's Moon.
Ornik had slept most of the way. Now they were floating in orbit above the moon, as Ornik rubbed sleep from his eyes and reached for his hydration system. The water tasted slightly chemical, as it always did. The protein bar he devoured was equally inspiring. WIthout much space to move in the cockpit, the Mandalorian stretched as best he could and checked his scanners.
Seven-Six, is he here?
See that destroyer?
He's on board?
His helmet is.
Good enough. Connect me. Ornik tapped the appropriate controls and waited for the ping from his droid before sending a recording of his unmistakable growl to Darian's helmet. Next time, Priest, leave me a message to tell me where you're headed. The next priority was to hail the destroyer, but... what to say? Ornik stared blankly at the craft for a moment, then very slowly pressed the button to hail it.
Craft... Bounty... my name is Ornik Vilka, piloting the the Kimogila about ten-kay klicks away at your heading one-six-two. Requesting permission to dock.
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Faust Skirata
Member
I'm the Juggernaut, bitch.
Posts: 203
Affiliation: The Priesthood
Traffic Light: Blue
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Post by Faust Skirata on Oct 9, 2013 3:25:32 GMT -8
Faust knew the moment Darian began to move that he was outmatched by the older Priest. Yet that realization only served to elicit a wide grin and a chuckle that burbled through the blood welling up in his mouth and trickling down the side of his jaw. He tried to withdraw when the alor clamped down on his arm, but it took him a fraction of a second too long, and Darian had already solidified his grip. Stepping forward anyway, with the intention of battering the man's face until he was forced to release the appendage, Faust brought his arm back and then gave a snarl as Darian twisted further. His attempt at resistance ceased as something Trull had once told him suddenly flashed through his mind: 'Sometimes it is better to get thrown than injured.' The Priest was no expert in grappling- his unarmed style was all high velocity striking- but that seemed like sound advice.
Letting himself be cast along in Darian's wake, Faust found himself flung over on his back with a metallic clank! There was no pain, and the wind wasn't even knocked out of him, but a shuddering jolt spasmed through his entire body, hard enough to make his teeth rattle. The Reaver blinked, once, and then set about picking himself up off the floor. A single rotation of his right arm confirmed that it was undamaged by the throw, and a chastised grin in Darian's direction confirmed that the younger man had learned his lesson. Such a mistake would've earned him the butt of a spear to his shin, had he been back on Keldabe. Faust's smile fell away. Here, such mistakes would earn him nothing and could very well cost him everything.
Rolling his neck and shoulders to shake off the last effects of the throw, the Priest began circling languidly to the left, eying Darian with a newfound wariness. He'd never seen the older man in true battle before, but if half the stories were to be believed, he was an avatar of death upon the field, peerless with axe or blaster and vicious to a degree even a fanatic like himself couldn't hope to match. His hands were up in a loose guard, right near his chest and left hovering at his ribs, fingers loosely curled, arms bent at the elbow. Every muscle in his body was coiled tight in preparation for the next flurry of movement, and his sulfuric gaze shone with fevered excitement.
Baring his teeth, Faust tightened the circle, hoping to goad Darian into engaging.
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Darian Beviin
Member
Posts: 206
Affiliation: Kad Ha'rangir
Traffic Light: Blue
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Post by Darian Beviin on Oct 11, 2013 18:27:48 GMT -8
Darian whipped his arm out to full extension as Faust went over him, allowing the man to roll free of the lock without causing any lasting damage to his arm. As much as Darian enjoyed fighting, critically wounding another member of the Priesthood could cripple them in a moment of need, and on top of that, a Bounty Hunter missing one good arm was only half as useful. And that could cause complications in the pay grade.
Darian wanted to avoid negotiations on pay as much as possible. Getting money was good, and not having to kill an employer was a good way to keep that money steady. He faced the younger Mando with a thoughtful gaze, his arms now low at his sides, resting. By no means unprepared- no, this was just another kind of preparation. Another angle of attack.
Webs had many strands. In that same way, a good warrior had many methods. If one collapsed, he could fall back on another. And another. Until oneor the other- himself or his enemy- was defeated. In this case, it was to get a feel for all of the ways Faust fought. It was a belief of the Echani- aruteii though they may be, it was no less of a good sentiment- that the best way to get to know someone was through combat. Darian, a Priest of Kad, believed that trials forged people. Strife honed an already good warrior into a better one. To see another Mando as an equal, one had to look through a difficult lens. Not victory or defeat, but spirit and indomitable will.
His feet shuffled him to the left a bit, adjusting the approach that Faust would have to take to reach him. It would be enough that the man would have to think on his feet. Perhaps adjust his plan of attack. All in all, it was like a teacher giving a lesson to his student. Darian had been, after all, a teacher once. His chest still bled, swolen now with violent elation. His jade eyes glittered as though a current ran through them, lit up purposefully.
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Taung H'rel
Retired High Councilor 
Posts: 469
Affiliation: Galactic Empire
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Post by Taung H'rel on Oct 20, 2013 17:24:43 GMT -8
A nondescript VCX-700 dropped out of hyperspace. Taung sat in one of the seats on the bridge, his eyes closed, listening to reports on the siege of Yavin, when he heard a report about a bombing at the main mining operations on Mandalore. Mandalore...with most of the the Empire's forces scattered or tied down...
He opened a com to Ashrah...the current Mand'alor...even though Taung was working against him, he would not work against the future of the Mandalorians as a whole...at least not the culture and future.
Mand'alor...
The ship continued to descend towards the moon.
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Liam Blood
Member
Posts: 102
Affiliation: Mandalore
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Post by Liam Blood on Oct 20, 2013 19:47:29 GMT -8
Bounty - Nar Shaddaa Space - Main Bridge
Bounty's XO, Mirta Intal watched the tactical display, keeping a weather eye on the insystem traffic from her position on Bounty's bridge. With the ship fully masked, she appeared to conform to legal civilian armaments and shields. The XO nodded to a comm officer and took the reply to the incoming hail herself, touching a comm panel.
This is Bounty to Kimoglia, you are cleared to the main hangar. Noting the name, evidently a Mandalorian, Mirta continued to watch the ship, and any others that caught her gaze.
Holdout's Bar
Liam listened, intrigued by the young man's story. He chuckled inwardly. Who would have thought breaking up a fight would have unearthed such a convoluted tale, and such a chance for adventure and excitement. Living a life his own way, Liam took greatest pleasure from a challenge. And nothing was more challenging than the female, in his experience. Blaster-toting females who ensnared and took into servitude vulnerable young men like Jeris, well. Plus, in his own estimation, if she had given the hutt's butt of a twi'lek a shiner, then she had to be alright in his book. This was a situation he could find a challenge and entertainment in.
Well, I can't say I blame you. In my experience mate, if a woman's got a gun on you, best not to upset her. Now, kriff the dishwashing, mate. At the very least I can find the pair of you decent jobs.Liam changed tack quickly, his mind racing with the possibilites.
Now, there are women, and there are women. You say this one's lasted aboard unregistered and undetected for some time, so she can obviously take care of herself. The good news is, we can rule out her being a Mando, they don't tend to enforced servitude. Not honorable. Liam ticked off points on his fingers as he spoke. She needs money, so she's on the run. That's about the only reason I know for someone to not use their own credits in their own bank accounts. Plus, she's smart. Bounty is one of the safest places for someone on the run. Mobile, and pretty cosmopolitan, hundreds of different species, thousands of beings coming and going. If she'd had enough credits, we'd never have found her, probably. Another idea hit him, and he changed tack again.
Have you ever done surveillance work? Perfect for a lad like you. Vidscreens and comm systems, your own workspace, decent workmates, no drunk Twi'leks, except on screen. Liam took a gulp of his whiskey, polishing it off. Ha!
Liam stood up and clapped Jeris not too roughly on the back. Well, lad, let's go meet this woman in your closet!
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