Lia Corusa
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Just your average runaway Barbie biatch.
Posts: 86
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Post by Lia Corusa on Feb 8, 2015 21:41:33 GMT -8
Their progress was slow. Wave upon wave of undead creatures assaulted them, unstable flooring and structural damage demanded careful footing and a quick eye. But with Rik and the Sith at the front, the creatures didn’t stand a chance, and Alena turned out to have just as sharp an eye for danger as Lia did. Once or twice, the two of the managed to steer everyone around a few hazardously sagging bits of floor that no one else seemed to see. Every now and then, Lia caught sight of the man with the sabers who’d shouted at them earlier, following the group at a safe distance. Maybe he was here to help. Maybe he was just waiting for one of them to break off so he could get a kill in. Who knew?
With a final slash of red saber and crackle of rifle lightning, the last creature zombie-thing fell to the floor in pieces just as they arrived at the central computer core. Or, at least, the door to the central computer core. “Hey. Sith.” Lia nodded at the door. “There’s no doorbell. Mind cutting us an entrance?”
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Bloodshot
Member
Posts: 311
Affiliation: Chaos and credits, baby.
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Post by Bloodshot on Feb 8, 2015 21:53:38 GMT -8
Much as he would have loved to halt, it was something that would have to wait until there wasn't a small horde of hostiles pouring out of the innards of the ship. Needless to say, Bloodshot had found the test subjects. Well... This could get interesting fast. He moved quickly, too quickly for a man clad in head to toe armor, and intercepted a second group of hostiles as they made for the cluster of armed men, seemingly content to ignore him for the time being. An oversight he was keen on making them pay for. He pulled the electrostaff off his back, opting for crowd control instead of the keen edge of his swords, then extended it and used the length to back most of the group against the wall and trap them there while he dealt with the others.
By all rights, that many amped umdead should have been able to force him back and overtake him, but somehow he managed to hold them long enough to decapitate a pair with a swipe of his gauntlet blade and hurl a third into the jutting end of a broken pipe, impaling it a good meter above the floor where it flailed uselessly. THen he backed off the group of five he'd had trapped and retracted his staff, converting it into a partially electrified baton two feet long. They came at him hard and fast, swinging their makeshift weapons with little to no finesse and all the force they could muster (which was a lot). He avoided the first three blows, deflected the fourth, then caught the last one and jammed his baton into the creature's mouth. Sparks danced through its eyes and across its flesh, smoke poured out its ears, and something that was probably intended to be a scream tried to gurgle past the obstruction before the thing dropped twitching to the floor. "Huh." Well at least that works.
He spun back around to face the four that he'd passed by and engaged them with both blade and baton, quickly felling the group before turning to regard the mandalorians. "If you have anything electrified, now would be the time to use it!" He shouted over the din, then waded into the back of the mob assailing the soldiers.
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Plu Or'dinii
Retired High Councilor
Posts: 159
Affiliation: Mandalorian Clan Or'dinii
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Post by Plu Or'dinii on Feb 8, 2015 22:33:08 GMT -8
The Mando'ade quickly discovered that the remaining assailants were not so easily dismembered as their first victim. Either he had been an anomaly, or he had already sustained significant damage. The next wave was not so quickly dispatched, and they were almost overrun before they could adjust.=Wesson=Wesson shot one of the corpses square in the chest from two meters and watched in amazement as his attacker stumbled backward from the impact, then got up and charged him again, ignoring that half of his ribcage was now showing through the charred flesh. Switching his heavy blaster rifle to full auto, he began laying down a withering fire. It took a long time (eight or more shots) to cut through one of the horrors, but so long as he kept the trigger depressed, he was able to hold his attackers at bay -- barely."If you have anything electrified, now would be the time to use it!" The Mando'ade didn't know who this guy was, but they knew a good idea when they heard one, and Wesson hadn't missed the fireworks show just now.=Colt=Neural Stunners. Use them. Colt put his own words into action, taking his short metallic baton normally used for crowd control in his left hand, whacking the nearest three zombies over the head with it. They fell to the floor immediately, twitching and chattering, although the shock was not a lethal one. Huh. Nice. =Remy=Remy didn't wait for the fallen corpses to wake up, and sprang forward, beskad raised, yelling out a string of curses as he followed his commander into the fray. Arrrr! Die, you scum! Just as fast as Colt laid out twitching corpses, Remy began indiscriminately chopping off heads and limbs.=Smith=See, I brought a toy for moments like this. The fourth member of the team muttered, although his teammates could scarcely hear him over the din, as he took a static blaster from his belt and began lighting up chaakarse with lethal bolts of electricity.
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Drallinix
Member
Posts: 33
Affiliation: "those guys. You know, them"
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Post by Drallinix on Feb 9, 2015 19:19:46 GMT -8
Walking forward Kahzak put his double blade away and pulled out his single saber. Igniting the blade he jammed it into the left side of the door and held it there as it burned through. Once it had burned through to the other side he slowly began to cut his way through the door in the shape of a square. Once he was done he deactivated the saber and kicked the metal piece through opening the doorway. Putting his saber away he waved his hand forward "Ladies first"
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Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
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Post by Deleted on Feb 9, 2015 19:55:48 GMT -8
Emma had simply nodded in thanks to 'Sparkle-fingers' compliment about her suit, before having followed the group, getting a few shots in at the infected's kneecaps every now and then from the back of the group, thankful for 'Malora' and 'Sparkle-fingers' helping navigate them around some of the treacherous floor. Once they finally arrived to the computer core room door, and the Sith finished cutting them a hole, Emma stepped up and raised her pistol as she ducked through the hole first, making sure not to touch the sides of the hole which were still glowing hot, coming out into the antechamber to the computer core main frame room. She did a visual scan with her pistol raised and at the ready, whilst her HUD scanned the antechamber and the mainframe room beyond, pinging when it picked up Kaarn's presence. Emma moved to the side of the hole and kept her pistol raised towards the far door as she called back We got a live one in the next room...
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Post by Eliana Shan on Feb 12, 2015 22:29:42 GMT -8
Intense curiosity tugged at her as they reached the door to the computer core. She didn't need blondie's scouting to know that there was a living being in the room: her HUD was perfectly capable of doing its job and telling her the same thing. She was supposed to watch the rear of their little group, but honestly, what was she supposed to do? They had been able to keep the creatures far enough away that all she was helping with was navigation. She was outfitted for close-quarters combat..
"Ladies first?"
She smirked, offering the Sith a friendly if a bit wary nod, and stepped through the hole, moving cautiously across the room towards the other door.
Doors had never been a problem for her -- though unbeknownst to her, her youngest creation had always held an irrational hatred for them -- and sometimes a quick control hack was easier than slicing through metal. Quieter, too.
Don't mind if I do..
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Kaarn
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Posts: 50
Affiliation: None
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Post by Kaarn on Feb 13, 2015 13:12:54 GMT -8
The Hunter pulled himself out from under the pile of rubble that had once been the Secondary Computer core, and had threatened to choke him to death (or had that been the gas) after the explosion. He stood upright and cleaned himself off, and immediately winced and clutched his thigh. A twisted piece of sheet metal stuck into his vastus lateralis, and he cursed the protrusion. There was little chance it had severed an artery (he'd already be dead) and so he ripped the metal out, licked its length, savoring the crimson, and then remembered the reason he was in this fix.
Bloodshot. He had robbed the Nagai of the data which was his payday, and of a kill which would have satisfied the Hunter's baser ambitions.
Quickly he took stock of his kit. One sword buried under the explosive debris, one pistol lost. His carbine seemed fine, and he checked the load in his second pistol. Unfortunately, there was nothing to be done about his EVA-collar. It was finished, which posed some serious questions about moving from space to space in the compromised ship.
And he still needed to reach the Main computer core, several decks above.
He was about to leave, through the handy hole the second of his shaped charges had created in the bulkhead (into what looked like an electrical / hydraulic access tunnel) when there was movement outside the door to the chamber. Quickly checking his motion tracker, he realized there wasn't just a little motion, but a great deal of it on this deck. More than a handful of mercs or do-gooders would suggest. This was something... else.
Drawing his sword, he activated the manual release for the door, which opened the obligatory few inches before requiring someone to finish sliding it open in its track.
He stood on the other side of the now-ajar door, and waited.
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Bloodshot
Member
Posts: 311
Affiliation: Chaos and credits, baby.
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Post by Bloodshot on Feb 13, 2015 19:19:09 GMT -8
After clearing up the rest of the walking corpses on his side of the room, Bloodshot turned to regard the progress of his new comrades in arms and found them dropping the last pair on their side with strikes from a stun baton then using a bladed weapon to dismember them. He was pretty sure the mandos called it a basket or something. Crude, but certainly effective. Personally, I prefer having the option for lethal current. With the coast now clear, he moved back to the creature he'd left impaled in midair, grabbed one of its dangling and now-paralyzed legs, and yanked it off the protrusion. "If you boys are heading for the secondary computer core, don't bother. One of the others figured it would be better to blow the whole thing than let me have it." He re-situated the electro-staff on his back as he spoke, then turned and headed off down another hallway, dragging the still-flailing thing behind him. "It's been fun. We'll have to do it again sometime."
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Lia Corusa
Member
Just your average runaway Barbie biatch.
Posts: 86
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Post by Lia Corusa on Feb 13, 2015 19:42:08 GMT -8
Drawing his sword, he activated the manual release for the door, which opened the obligatory few inches before requiring someone to finish sliding it open in its track.
He stood on the other side of the now-ajar door, and waited. We got a live one in the next room... “Is it one of those undead things?” Lia came up next to Emma, E-11 trained steadily on the door. It was open just a few inches, almost begging someone to slip a finger in and slide it back fully. “Probably not. If it was, it’d be trying to get out,” she mumbled, answering her own question. The fugitive stopped a few paces from the door, watching it warily. Whoever it was obviously knew they were there, but they were making no move to reveal themselves or get involved. Well, that was fine with Lia. At least, it would be on an ordinary day. Normally, you couldn't pay Lia to investigate something like this, but they were on a ghost ship full of undead science experiments, and if there was a chance whoever was hiding back there could add another gun to their merry band of misfits, they could use all the firepower they could get if they wanted to leave this floating nightmare with their skin intact.
Slowly and with much trepidation, Lia gripped the door and prepared to slide it back.
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Post by Rik Vane on Feb 13, 2015 19:59:05 GMT -8
"You've got to be kriffing kidding me..." A gorram space cockroach that turns you into a kriffing zombie? What the hell is the galaxy coming to... I remember when these things were called rakghouls and they merely tried to eat you. Oh, I had some fun with them... The source of Rik's distress on this particular occasion was the finally non-functioning corpse of the last undead thing they'd killed, which he'd crouched down next to for a brief examination. It wasn't until he rolled the creature over that he discovered the insect-like thing attached to the back of its neck, which he was now running detailed scans on. Never hurts to have a plan B... Unless that plan involves spreading a plague of mind-controlling insects across the galaxy, correct? "Just shut up. You're not helping anybody." By this time most everyone had moved into the room adjacent to the secondary computer core, so he wasn't worried about being overheard.
Scans done, he rose and headed into the room himself just in time to catch Lia preparing to haul the door to the core open. "Hey! Malora! You trying to get yourself killed?" He stepped up next to her and took her by the shoulders to gently usher her away from the inches-wide opening. "How about you go stand over there and let the professionals do their thing, kay? We have no idea who it is on the other side." He turned back to the door and reached into his satchel, withdrawing a small object that looked a very awful lot like a stun grenade. In fact, it looked exactly like a stun grenade, and when he pressed the activation stud, it even sounded like a stun grenade. "You may wanna cover your ears for this." Except it wasn't really a stun grenade. What it actually was was a remote activated stun mine that happened to be housed in a grenade casing. "Fire in the hole!" Then he tossed it through the door opening and waited to see what cobwebs it shook loose.
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Plu Or'dinii
Retired High Councilor
Posts: 159
Affiliation: Mandalorian Clan Or'dinii
Traffic Light: Orange
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Post by Plu Or'dinii on Feb 13, 2015 20:38:59 GMT -8
=Colt= Farewell, friend, and thanks. His voice was filtered through his beskar bucket's internal systems, and so it was hard to read tone, but the commander of the Mando op was genuinely grateful for Bloodshot's help. Standing over the last of his victims, Colt extended his stun baton in salute to the other mercenary, then switched it off and reattached it to his belt. The stranger's news about the computer core, however, was disconcerting. What a di'kutla. Blow the whole thing? What mir'osik thought that was a jate idea? Fireblast it, if I catch the chakaar... His voice trailed off menacingly.
Smith, Wesson, and Remington had gathered themselves and reformed their diamond formation around their commander, and the Mandos turned, heading in the opposite direction from the other mercenary by silent mutual agreement, without a single moment of discussion.
=Colt= It's been a long time since I've been on a Venator, and this is an older model... Colt remarked as they made their way forward down a surprisingly well lit and debris-free hallway. ... But if I remember correctly, the main computer core is only one deck below us.
The head commando had lagged to the back as he wracked his brain, drawing shapes in the air with his finger as he tried to remember one ship out of hundreds, but now he hurried forward. It should be... He turned a corner into a side hallway to the right. Just down this way...
=Smitty= Oh. Well that's no good. He wasn't kidding, either. The entire passageway was blocked by a single sheet of deck plating that had fallen down from the level above (or, possibly, several levels above), slicing neatly through the entire hallway, the deck itself, and every cable in all four walls of the hallway. Electricity arced from several ruined cables, and a plume of acrid smoke was rising through the hole in the ceiling.
=Remy= Nothing a rocket can't fix. The trigger happy commando remarked with a shrug, his right hand settling onto a button on his left wrist as he braced his feet.
=Wesson= Hey, easy now, we don't want to split the ship in half-- He was too late.
There was a gigantic explosion, and the next thing the four Mandalorians knew, they were tumbling into a larger space (the anteroom of the secondary computer core) than the one they had left behind. They had crashed through numerous decks, bypassing their intended level with the main computer core, and arriving exactly where the stranger upstairs had told them there was no reason to visit. They finally struck something solid about 10 meters behind a group of strangers who were standing mostly facing away from them, with their focus on a nearly-closed door. There were three women and two men, and one of the men was openly identifying himself as a force-wielder, with two saber hilts visible on his person.
Accompanying the commandos were thousands of burning chunks of deck and bulkhead, none of them bigger than your fist, and about a quarter mile of severed (and thus disconnected) power and data cables, and some of the most horrible noises of destruction that you can imagine. The creaky old starship hadn't taken that one well at all, and there were sounds of stress and disintegration coming from every direction. The debris field coalesced around the Mandalorians, burying them up to their waists in shrapnel.
=Colt= Don't you EVER do that again.
=Smith & Wesson= (Coughing)
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Post by Invictus Cain on Jul 18, 2015 23:05:06 GMT -8
The engines of the Dancer clicked faintly as they began to cool, dumping their excess heat into the air of the hanger bay. Invictus had run the ship hard in order to make the rendezvous with his cruiser. As he strode down the boarding ramp of his Conqueror-class assault ship, boots thumping hollowly onto the plates of the hanger bay, Invictus felt the rumble of the larger ships hyperdrive finish spooling up, and the stars visible outside the hanger turned to streaks. Standing near the hanger bay entrance, the swirling beauty and ever-changing landscape of hyperspace were lost on Cain. Even if he had been able to see them properly, he would not have, as his attention had turned inwards. After a moment, Cain felt the presence by his shoulder, and turned. One of the crew members stood there, patiently awaiting orders. Turning further, Cain surveyed the rest of the starboard hanger. His ship filled most of the space, with enough that the ground crew could attend to repairs and refuelling. Cain knew that over in the port side hanger there would be more space, as his apprentice only flew a heavy starfighter, and not a full sized attack ship like his. Turning back to the still waiting crew member, Cain spoke softly, his voice hissing through his helmet.
"Where is he?"
The crewman ducked his head slightly and the lights on the visible part of his cybernetic implants flashed quickly. When the crewman spoke, his tone was flat and empty.
"Quarters, master."
Cain flicked his wrist at the man, dismissing him, and strode out of the hanger. The corridors of the Nova-class battle cruiser were all but empty, and the few crewmen that Cain did encounter were quick to step aside fro their lord. Like the man in the hanger, each showed signs of extensive cybernetic work. Other, less visible changes made the name of the ship, Nuyak Grothhu, an appropriate choice by Invictus. 'My Slaves'. Cain turned the name over in his mind as he approached the main living quarters. The men and women of this ship were indeed his slaves. Cybernetic enhancements, drug cocktails, both natural, and those created via Sith Alchemy, and Dark Side rituals of Force Magic; Cain and his apprentice had worked them all in tandem to change the once free crew of the captured ships into their utter slaves. Cain had done the calculations in the past, and had decided it would take years of intensive therapy and surgery, or death, to free any of his slaves from him.
Returning once more to the present from the depths of his mind, Cain opened the door he faced, and stepped through into his apprentice's chambers. The small room that greeted him appeared to be a finely furnished, if small, bachelors apartment, standard fare for starship. Cain strode over to the other side of the room, where a large floor to ceiling window revealed the truth of the chambers. Beyond this small room that served as a bedchamber, the room was huge - it was technically half of the port side hanger, that had been sealed off and armoured to meet Jaraz Prend's unique tastes in interior decorating. The chamber beyond the window was filled with water, and aquatic plants and animals bloomed in many different sizes and shapes. Cain reached over and touched a button on the wall beside the window, and there was a beeping noise and a gentle flash of light from in the water.
Nothing happened for several long moments, then there was a dull clunk from one corner of the room, where a walk through shower-like area led to a heavy door. After a moment, the door slid open, and Jaraz stepped into the shower area. Clad only in a pair of jumpsuit style shorts, the muscular young Karkarodon waited as fresh water rinsed the more heavily mineral-laden waters of his chambers off of his smooth grey and white skin. As warm air was used to dry him, Jaraz spoke, addressing Cain.
"You're back sooner than expected."
Cain nodded slightly. His last trip hadn't been as successful, or as peaceful, as he had planned for.
"A group of Anzati managed to get in the way. Still, I have a lead on another artifact. Meet me on the bridge."
Cain turned abruptly, and strode out of the chambers, leaving his apprentice to dress quickly in a fitted black jumpsuit, and rush to catch up. Cain stayed silent for the rest of the trip up to the bridge, and Jaraz followed suit, not wishing to disturb the sometimes volatile peace within his master's mind. The pair entered the bridge side by side, and Cain settled into a command chair, from which he could monitor the entire ship, leaving his apprentice to stand a short distance behind him. Cain settled his breathing, knowing there was nothing he could do to speed the trip, but calm proved elusive. Soon enough, he would be on the trail of yet another repository of ancient knowledge.
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Deleted
Deleted Member
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Post by Deleted on Feb 15, 2016 8:28:36 GMT -8
In hyperspace, a corvette-class minelayer dropped out of hyperspace early, putting itself in the midst of deep space. On board, it carried the three relay stations, some fifty non-mass transceivers, and thirteen relay satellites that the Quincy had harvested, modified, and directly programmed over the past year - the components that, in their entirety, would make up the Quincy SpyNet. Placing the satellites, transceivers, and relay stations, however, was slow and grueling work - the corvette had to travel by sublight to exact coordinates, whereupon it released a transceiver, satellite, or relay, and then initiated tuning and orientation procedures. In tuning, the onboard communications officers communicated with the dropped component with the ships onboard communication suite, verifying that it was receiving all frequencies, and even testing encryption algorithms and droid brain logic. If everything checked out, they proceeded to orientation - specific coordinates were given, and the component then oriented towards that position - the corvette then made a short hyperspace jump, followed by a several hour sublight flight to intercept that orientations path. From there, another test of frequencies and protocols was done, before, finally, the corvette made the several hour sublight flight back to the primary space land, jumped back into hyperspace, and then repeated the process - some seventy times.
It would take the better part of three months (one week RL) to set up the entirety of the SpyNet array - meanwhile, the disaster that was the primary Listening post would -hopefully - be resolved by the time the array was put into place. Then again, if something could go wrong...it probably would.
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Post by House of D'Ordinii on Aug 18, 2017 17:58:44 GMT -8
==Socii SL== <<59 PP; M13 Sector, Kelada>>
Kartoron Brightmind was having a fairly average day. The Clan's presence on Kelada was minimal, maybe two dozen clan members total. All working at the relatively small outpost in the planet's capital city. Mostly the outpost functioned as a bank for the locals, but it did a fair bit of other business that could be handled remotely from off world sites through the Clan's holonet. For the most part they stayed in the outpost. It was a fairly nice size, having been built up around the small spacecraft they all live out of. The rest of the outpost was more or less an enclosed landing pad with a thick outer wall & a storefront area built into the front. The ship itself was out of the weather & covered, but the door was designed to drop open in a scant few seconds at a moment's notice. It was nice to get out every now & again, though. At that particular moment Kartoron was with one other member of the Clan & on a shopping trip for groceries. That was when the shooting started.
It had been a few decades since he had left the training world, but the lessons he had learned there had been well drilled into him. Not knowing the source of the fire, he got low & dived for the nearby cover of a large display case. He nearly immediately lost sight of the other Clan member, but he wasn't too worried, they both had had the same training. Other than the armor enhancements to strength & a small blade that could extend from his armor he was effectively unarmed. He was a banker after all, not a fighter. The training had been repeated again & again. Stay low. Stay under cover. Move away from the danger. Most of the shooting was coming from the front of the store, so he started moving toward the back. Most building had emergency exits & worker areas in the back, so he should be able to get clear of the building & area that way.
Peeking around a corner, he didn't see anyone in either direction & an emergency exit was within sight ahead. As he was crossing the open space between the last aisle & the door he felt like a massive hammer slammed into his side as damage alarms began to sound in his HUD. As he was struggling to get his breath back, a figure finished rounding the corner, armed with a heavy grade but short ranged energy weapon. As the diagnostics on the damage finished, they were displayed for him to see. Even the light Exo of his armor had stopped the vast majority of the blast, though it had still kicked like a mule. Damage to the suit & himself was fairly minimal.
-Shotgunner Hey! I caught one. Get back here!
The energy weapon was now trained at his head however, & Kartoron wasn't about to risk a concussion or worse from that, so he remained lying still on the ground. Pretending to be unconscious would at least buy him a few moment to think. Soon enough, several other locals had joined the first. From their talk it was clear they planned to take him hostage. He had to think quickly. Training kicked in once again. Avoid contact with hostiles. Passively resist. Contact an operator. He quickly turned off all his external projection systems. Now nothing he said would be heard outside his helmet.
-Kartoron Suit, engage motor locks. Suit, Call Operator.
With the first command, all the servos in his suit manually locked down in the position they already were. The weight of the suit, plus the unwieldiness of the random sprawled position he was now locked in would make it difficult for them to move him without either a lot of time & work, or a cargo cart of some type. After a few seconds he was connected with an operator. The system was designed so that a machine would review the preceding minutes of data from his suit, make a summery of his situation for an operator, pick an appropriately trained operator, & connect them.
-Operator Alright, first off the other Clan member has already cleared the area, so you don't need to worry about that. A response force has already been activated. The important thing is to stay calm.
Kartoron would have nodded, if his range of motion hadn't been locked down due to the armor.
-Operator Your record says you have trained with remote operations. Are you willing to activate those systems. They may not be used, but it might help to have the option on the table.
-Kartoron Ya, let me turn it on.
Remote operations was the term used for when someone else controlled your suit from a distance, with you still in it. Usually it was used to be able to put an expert of one form or another in a situation they normally wouldn't be able to reach or when it would take too long to get a dedicated drone into position. The control links however were manual release, meaning it could only be activated or deactivated from the person wearing the suit. It required some extra training on the part of the 'puppet', because if you didn't relax enough & tried to fight the suit servos, you risked serious injury. Letting out a long breath, Kartoron let his body go completely limp before nudging the tiny switch in his helmet with his chin. Now he was just watching the show.
-Shotgunner You think I killed him?
-Possible Leader Maybe. Attempts to open Kartoron's armor & fails. Maybe he is just knocked out. We will have to cut him out of his can before we can be certain. Either way, he is still worth a pretty cred.
-Lookout Hey, we might have trouble, all the traffic outside has stopped.
-Possible Leader Na, just word spreading about the shots. We will be out of here before anyone can respond. Hurry up with the cart.
-Operator, Over Kartoron's suit speakers Warning, you are engaged in an act of war against the Mandolorian Clan D'Ordinii. Lay down your weapons. Move ten paces away & lay face down on the floor. Failure to comply will be met with lethal force.
-Shotgunner Hey! He's talking.
-Possible Leader Na, it is just a recording in the suit, trying to buy time.
Within a few moment the cart in question had arrived & the locals began fighting to load the unyielding suit onto the cart. However as one of them crossed the gap between two aisles while moving to help, there was a sharp crack & a large chunk of his chest simple evaporated. Several of the smarter or more nervous ones manage to fling their weapons aside & dive to the floor. Those that remained standing didn't last long as a few dozen compact MER droids buzzed in over the tops of the nearby aisles. Anyone not already on the floor was quickly put there. The smoking craters in the ones that had remained standing making it clear they wouldn't ever be standing again.
-Operator Ok, you can release the remote operation now. It seems it wasn't needed. Secondary units will be there shortly to collect the kidnappers, weapons & dead. I suggest moving to the front of the store & waiting there.
Waiting at the front of the store, Kartoron wasn't particularly surprised to see MER-2 heavies & three small drone vehicles roll up. A few moments later, the remaining members of the group walked out single file & loaded themselves into the now open rear of the craft, all under the watchful guns of the MER drones. As the first vehicle locked down its rear section, the next one opened. This time worker drones filed out, entered the building & returned shortly loaded down with the bodies & the weapons of the group. The last vehicle was to be his own ride back to the outpost. This had been far too much adventure for one day.
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Post by House of D'Ordinii on Aug 23, 2017 9:10:46 GMT -8
==Making War SL== <<102 PP; J13 Sector>>
Amat looked out over the sundered hull of the Imperial Keldabe battleship that had until recently been the KEL-1701 Enterprise. He was standing in what had been the bridge, buried deep within the structure of the ship, but was now exposed to space as the mighty ship had been torn into three major chunks & a cloud of smaller fragments. Elsewhere on the ship, others cut their way through the bulkheads & seized up hatches to reach the beacons of the few crew members still trapped on board. Even with damage this extensive the final death count was still under a third of the crew. The remainder had either launched to safety as their duty stations ejected or survived on their suit systems until they could be extracted. Of course another third of the crew wouldn't be back on their feet for several months due to injuries. Amat however had a different goal than retrieving the ghosts of the dead. He was here to collect a living ghost.
Turning his back on the vistas of space beyond the bridge, Amat made his way slowly in the zero gravity to the heavy metal plate bolted to one wall. The Beskar plate had been undamaged in the fury that had torn the bridge in half. Inscribed on the durable metal was the name & listing of the ship, as well as the date it entered service & the name of her first captain. This particular plate had seen two more captains since the first earn the high honor of having their own names added to the roll. Carefully, to the point of reverence, Amat removed the plate & maneuvered it slowly into the crate that floated nearby. Grabbing onto a handle bar on the crate, he touched a button & the crate quickly slid free from the shattered bridge. A moment later it begins to curve upward toward the Lucrehulk ring hovering near the wreckage.
Other crates emerged in a steady steam from each of the shattered parts of the Enterprise as other teams recovered fallen crew. Once the crew, both living & dead had been gathered, work would begin to strip the hull down to the frame. Even the mighty Imperial Keldabe battleship used components that were literately plugged into their slots. True, the ratchet handles were much larger than on the modular personal equipment, but it was the same principle. Given enough time with an undamaged ship & some lifting equipment, a single person could easily remove every piece of equipment, conduit, deck plate, & even the hull armor in any Imperial ship. The only thing that would be left would be the skeletal frame that everything was anchored to. Even the massive power coil itself could be removed intact, though it required the unbuckling of two consecutive layers of hull plating first. The components would be sent to the shipyard to be checked for quality, refurbished where needed & used for new ships under construction. The components too damaged for reuse & the remaining skeleton, or at least as much as could be safely gathered, would be melted down for use in new components. The name plate itself however would be taken & installed in the next Imperial Keldabe to be finished. No ship was ever truly lost in the Infinite Imperium, they just got a new bodies periodically.
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Post by House of D'Ordinii on Apr 13, 2018 12:39:25 GMT -8
==Socii SL== <<107 PP, I16 Sector>>
Captain Hargrave was in an excellent mood. It had taken nearly four months, but he had managed to win over the support of the entire senior staff. Tonight would mark the first night that they would all meet openly & discuss future plans. He had even managed to secure a fine vintage to go along with the occasion. Eight ornate glasses has already been set out, filled & were airing to ensure their taste.
The other officers all arrived within a few minutes of each other, showing off a proper military discipline that being a slave state had not managed to remove. As they arrived, each took their normal seat. They were all well accustomed to the room, as it was where most of the senior meetings took place.
Everyone was present. Weapons, Senors, Communications, Medical, Security, Engineering, The Executive Officer, & himself the captain. Only the slave driver that when by the pompous title of shipmaster was absent. He had not been invited & would not have taken kindly to the topic of today's meeting.
Hargrave did have to admit that the uniforms had a certain snap to them that he liked. The entire staff wore much the same, with only minor differences. The Security officers, for example, all carried sidearms as part of their uniform.
Once everyone was settled around the table, Hargrave motioned them to rise again. Raising his own glass high, he gave a little speech to get the mood right.
-Hargrave Dear friends, we have each talked extensively about this in private. The time, however, has come to speak openly. We have been slaves for too long to a foreign nation. It is time to take back our rights. And we will start by taking this ship. From there we will convince others of our just cause & burn the Imperium to dust. Death to the Imperium!
After draining his cup, he noticed that only the communications officer had followed his toast, the rest stood solemnly with their hands behind their backs in a parade at ease stance.
-Hargrave Come friends, drink up! The vintage is truly fine.
There was a hard snap from somewhere as Hargrave reached to refill his glass. The poor communications officer began to scream. Hargrave didn't think it had been that startling, but some people just got nerves over the smallest things. The bottle seemed to flee further from his fingers & he found himself leaning against the table.
There was a second hard snap, though this time the communication officer didn't scream. Perhaps he had settled down some. Hargrave discovered to his surprise that he was sitting in his chair again. He felt something wet on his chest & glanced down. He must have spilled some of the wine on himself, as it was slowly drenching his uniform.
-Hargrave Careful friends, this vintage is a tad strong.
As the room slowly faded out of sight, he thought he saw an armored figure step out of the wall.
Former Captain Hargrave died without even realizing that his own chief security officer had shot him & the communication officer. The other members of the senior staff had all sought out private meetings of their own. When it became clear what the Captain had planned, they started making a plan of their own.
That was when the Inquisitor had shown up. They didn't even know the gender or species of the being, let alone their name. They just seemed to appear one day. The ship hadn't docked with anyone in weeks, so how long they had been lurking around was a question on everyone's mind. Their stance, their plan, even their worries were already known to the Inquisitor. The only thing that the Inquisitor provided was the blessing of the Imperium in their actions.
What had appeared to be a rather featureless corner of the room suddenly melted away to reveal the somewhat glossy & organic looking armor of the Inquisitor. Six small pins where placed on the table. Each projected the hologram of a medal. Five were a plain red bar. The sixth had a star imposed on it. The Blood Bar was only given out to those that personally helped an Inquisitor in their duties. The security officer was sure that was exactly how that had happened, but he had the suspicion that if they hadn't done anything, there would now be eight dead bodies in the officer's briefing room instead of two.
-Inquisitor Oya Imperator!
-Surviving Senior Staff Oya Imperator!
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Gráinne Mhaol & Fiach Dubh
Member
Is mimic a bhris beal duine a shron - often a person's mouth gets their nose broke
Posts: 715
Affiliation: Oglaigh na Irandoideanne - Warriors of the Iron Fists
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Post by Gráinne Mhaol & Fiach Dubh on May 16, 2018 16:34:52 GMT -8
The ship continued carrying the pair along through their self-imposed exile in hyperspace. To the woman, this was an exercise in self-mortification, locked in a dead zone. In this void she deeply examination of her soul. She focused intensely on piloting the vessel but used this practical task as a means of allowing her deepest thoughts to flow freely as she examined her soul. It was a task of no small order. Boland was absorbed in his investigation of the arsenal she had assembled. The Raven simply sat motionless on Morrígu’s shoulder. And on they moved through empty space
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Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna
Member
Fag an Bealach
Posts: 203
Affiliation: Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna ~ Warriors of the Iron Fists
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Post by Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna on Jul 3, 2018 2:48:37 GMT -8
As a Wayfarer passes by an pungent stench passing from the ship
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Katsumi Ren
The First Order
Posts: 97
Affiliation: The Knights of Ren
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Post by Katsumi Ren on Oct 9, 2019 21:35:54 GMT -8
In the cockpit of the outwardly rather worn and traveled looking (and yet in fact quite meticulously maintained in its innermost workings and systems where it matters most) VCX-100 light freighter that is hers only by virtue of the fact that she took possession of it after killing the ship's original owner, a particularly ruthless and unscrupulous smuggler whose decomposing body has been given its final resting place in a freight container in the VCX's secondary cargo bay, Katsumi alternately watches her instruments and the dancing blues of the hyperspace tunnel the ship travels along as it hurtles towards its destination, and occasionally wonders what the vessel's other living occupant, the Imperial Knight Brock Ferrum, is up to.
Assigned to report together to Balmorra's planetary governor for an as yet to be revealed purpose, Katsumi and Brock have thus far managed to avoid one another ever since they departed from Muunilinst, which suits Katsumi every bit as well as she is certain it suits Ferrum, an amusing choice as her partner for whatever it is they will be asked to do given his well known disdain and mistrust of the Knights of Ren and her own admittedly pronounced disregard for a great many social and ethical conventions. Accustomed to operating alone, Katsumi sees no reason that she and Ferrum cannot simply pursue whatever it is they will be asked to pursue while continuing to avoid one another whenever possible. If one of the unspoken objectives of this mission was intended to be fostering some degree of cooperation or trust between the Knights of Ren and the Imperial Knights, Katsumi thinks to herself as she checks the navicomputer's chronometer to see how much time remains before they revert back into realspace upon reaching Balmorra, that will most likely prove to be an objective that is not achieved.
Settling more comfortably in the pilot's seat, Katsumi closes her eyes behind her onxy hued skull-shaped helm and mentally reviews the information about Balmorra and that world's planetary governor she had researched after learning of where she and Ferrum were being sent, finding, as before, that doing so offers no illumination where the possible reasons she and Ferrum have been asked for are concerned. Ferrum's inclusion suggests that whatever it is they will tasked with is likely to be outside of the more morally gray area that her own particular skill set, which includes espionage and assassination, makes her well suited for, and Katsumi wonders if he has been sent primarily as either a way to put a shiny veneer on some ugly but necessary business or as a means to try and keep her from venturing too far into the morally gray areas her involvement, for whatever reason it has been deemed necessary, invites.
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Post by Brock Ferrum on Oct 16, 2019 5:44:59 GMT -8
Brock sat at the small tabled in the cramped lounge of the freighter, reviewing the data on Balmorra he had been given and generaly doing his best to ignore the situation he was in. Unfortunately that was much easier said than done. His mind drifted back to it's own musings on why this mission was happening at all. He had been given the task directly by both the Emperor and Faina in what he was sure was an attempt to impress upon him the importance of working with the Knights of Ren and cooperative harmony among the force users of the First Order and whatever other mumbo jumbo the emperor believed and Faina supported, even if he was fairly sure it was based of her faith in Nicademus rather than any belief that the Imperial Knights and the Knights of Ren would ever have a good relationship. How putting the Imperial Knight's second in command and most infamous Ren distruster and the Ren's creepy masked assassin together on a mission was supposed to accomplish that he was unsure. No matter what the task he was sure there would be some deep and fundamental differences in how they would likely approach the situation and as much as he'd like to believe they could just work separately and not have to deal with each other he had a bad feeling that part of their orders might include an insistence on cooperation... because nothing could go wrong with that. For now though he was content to stay away from the Knight of Ren and continue to study up on the planet until their arrival.
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