Collateral Damage (Doren; Ask First)

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Zuno Drallac
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Re: Collateral Damage (Doren; Ask First)

Post by Zuno Drallac » Tue Nov 20, 2018 5:53 pm

As Private Drallac and his fellow squad mates slowly made their way to the shooting range the intercom came to life.

“All military personal, report to your Captains and prepare for further orders.”

Zuno’s reptilian eyes lit up as he spun around to face his colleagues.

“Well, I’ll be a one armed Gundark, Zuno’s gut was right,” Modis spoke, surprise in his voice. He reached into his pocket and handed Krelian a few credits.

“Lead the way Zuno,” Krelian continued as he happily took the credits and pocketed them.

The Falleen smiled before leading the group to where he knew their squad leader would be waiting. Sure enough they were the first to report in that were fully equipped and ready to receive further instruction.

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Jak Bexel
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Re: Collateral Damage (Doren; Ask First)

Post by Jak Bexel » Wed Nov 21, 2018 9:27 pm

Sandra Aan'kleef, aka Sandy, aka Van Kleef, aka Rookie, saw Jak stir in his bacta sheets. she had been sitting in the single visitor's chair parked between his and Red Eye's bed.

"Just thought you should know, we're with the Herdship," she offered in a calm, neutral voice.

"How long was I out?" He asked, face muffled by the cheesecloth-like drape of the bandage.

"Eight hours — who can say that's happened lately? Red pulled you from the vacuum in record time just as the cockpit became a new airlock. You're a little banged up but nothing too bad, just some glass shards and exposure. Anti-radiation meds and whatnot. They say you need to rest," she explained, and she was firm.

"This is a hangover plus," he mumbled. "I imagine you have some pain meds for me, Rookie?"

He upturned his palm in the hospital bed, and Van Kleef reached forward to deposit a thin white joint into his palm. They spent the next few minutes catching up on where the ship was and filling the medical bay with the sweet pungent odor of Concord Kush, a 60/40 hybrid that dipped more towards the euphoric than paranoia. A blue medical droid rolled in to remove the batch clothes shortly after. They would both be admonished for the spread of smoke in the ward.

==

Ellem's axis pointed directly forward as she motored hard down the crowded hallways of the Keldabe Battleship. Buggie's ship signature had ping'd within the beleaguered balldroid, as her master programmed her for such a thing. Months had passed since Ellem was in the company of her master's friend, and she had precious information — that could be construed as gossip to certain circles — in regards to her master's dalliances with the Sith they met on Sojourn. Granted, the ordeal with the Rancor was an unfortunate occurrence and according to protocol she should be grateful for the evil organic magic that saved her life, but she was more concerned with the safety of her master. Perhaps the friendly green bug would be able to talk her master out of continuing such associations? She had to find out, and so she kicked up a storm aboard The Azure Storm before her Bexel had time to call for her.

==

"No can do," The monotone Pitt droid shook its dome at the dome.

"I'm gonna flatten you and toss you like a frisbee you say that to me again," Stretch pointed a crooked finger at the droid, his humble frame towering a powerful six inches over the wiry mechanic droid. "Explain to me one more time why you can't do your kriffing job!"

"Go easy pal," Red hollered from the crawlspace that was made out of the breach. "There's a perfectly good reason. Look over here!"

Much to Stretch's chagrin, the breach was going to lay them up for a while. It seems the hooks not only sliced through valuable circuitry, but they housed micro-barbs, little daggers on the ends of the spear that caused more minute damage. With this in mind it would take them at least a week to get the ship right, and that meant they were stranded.

"Oh this is good. Stranded out in the void with no ship, no way out unless it suits the machinations of a shadow organization. My skin is gonna start itching, I can feel it already," the neurotic Gran trailed off, leaving the ship just as soon as he'd arrived. "I'm going back to bed, it's my sick day after all. You guys have fun."
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Master Buggie
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Re: Collateral Damage (Doren; Ask First)

Post by Master Buggie » Sat Nov 24, 2018 7:02 pm

Aurek Fleet had begun to push away from the facility, save for The Azure Storm, which remained in its berth, undergoing repair. Admiral Brakken had bid Buggie adieu some time ago, leaving Buggie in the viewport-lined corridor aboard the drydock. No one was pinging his comlink at the moment, so he remained, watching the wounds in the hull of the warship being patched over. He was glad he remained after a few moments, as a familiar droid came rolling down the corridor in his direction. A BB-unit belonging to Captain Jak Bexel, Ellem was a round ball with emerald accents. As the droid rolled nearer, Buggie noted that the droid's color scheme had not been repainted, as the emerald accents had begun to crack and peel away, showing glimpses of the original color scheme that the droid once displayed. It was a losing battle, Buggie mused, repainting a BB-unit, since the constant rolling inevitably wore down any color on the main body of the droid. He didn't blame Bexel from putting off the maintenance on the droid's color scheme for later.

"Hello there," Buggie greeted to the familiar droid.

To his surprise, Ellem stopped and rolled over in his direction, bumping into Buggie's leg with some urgency.

"What's the matter now?" Buggie asked the droid, unable to interpret the series of hoots and whistles from the BB-unit, "Come on, let's get someone to translate. It seems like you're in a hurry to tell me something."

If it had been his own R7-series astromech droid, Twitter, Buggie would have a far easier time understanding the seemingly urgent message. Buggie would have to find a droid nearby to help. In a drydock full of droids, that wouldn't take long.
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Doren Vassyl
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Re: Collateral Damage (Doren; Ask First)

Post by Doren Vassyl » Sun Nov 25, 2018 9:51 pm

As the clustered Imperial vessels continued to wade through the periphery of the ionic soup, the engineering crews were hard at work within. Without realizing it, the head technicians aboard the Reverent had overlooked a crucial shipment of bulkhead covers, whose absence meant their fightercraft would be taking a considerably risk were they to climb to their optimal attack speed. Sadly, the errant supply run was intended for the entire task force, as reports poured in from the other carriers regarding identical issues. Captain Vassyl was hardly pleased with the development, but he understood this was a blunder to discuss with the central auxiliary, rather than the hard-working non-coms who were only doing their Empress' bidding.

And, as twisted fate would have it, the Strike-Class Cruiser Warden's TIE Avenger compliment was fresh from a retrofit at Balmorra, and allowed for one single offensive squadron. While their numbers were small, the Avenger chassis far surpassed its Interceptor companions, and packed a lethal punch when it was needed most. Though Vassyl's own flight group leader grumbled at his lack of opportunities to sally forth, we was quickly brought to heel with a generous offer to assist the gunnery crews responsible for the Star Destroyer's handful of turbolaser batteries. With a limited escort, the fleet detachment would have to play to its strengths, and anti-capital defenses certainly topped the list. The Captain however, for his part, hoped it would not come to such extremes.

Meanwhile, while the naval agenda was thrown into a tizzy, the army contingent, along with their space-faring equipment, suffered no major hardships. ATR-6 transports were prepared to ferry troops at a moment's notice, and a single sentinel shuttle was similarly prepared to bear the burden of a handful of anti-personnel walkers and speeder bikes. Throughout the process, the Lieutenant-Colonel was briskly pacing about the hangar floor, ensuring that all of his compatriots were lined up and ready for deployment. Benroy tolerated many things: sloppy procedure was absolutely inexcusable. [Alpha detachment, report to the main hangar], the stern voice of Major Thaltizon boomed on the intercom, [Repeat, alpha detachment report to the main hangar]. As a conflict drew nearer and nearer, the time for idling was rapidly reaching it close.
-------
"He's dangerous that one"
"Because he's a fanatic?"
"A fanatic with a conscience"

Zuno Drallac
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Re: Collateral Damage (Doren; Ask First)

Post by Zuno Drallac » Tue Nov 27, 2018 4:29 am

“Repeat, alpha detachment report to the main hangar”

Private Drallac smiled as his squad marched into the hanger with the rest of the detachment that had been chosen for this operation. His mind raced as he thought about what he was about to set out on, was this an Alliance world that they were running a strike on? A rebellion on an Imperial world that needed to be put down? What ever it was the Falleen was ready to face it head on and prove himself to his fellow soldiers and his unit commanders.

The unit came to a halt in front of the Lieutenant-Colonel and all snapped to attention. Zuno’s scales had gained a light red tint as he stood eagerly waiting for the orders to be given, his first real assignment. His gun was cleaned and his grey armor polished, he was ready.

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Jak Bexel
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Re: Collateral Damage (Doren; Ask First)

Post by Jak Bexel » Mon Dec 03, 2018 9:37 pm

Jak put his boots on with great care, holding the joint in his lips while attempting to misdirect the smoke away from his nostrils. His body had a dull ache all about it, that of a cuticle but with the expanse of every neighboring finger, hand, appendage and system. It wasn't good, but he was grateful to be moving. Van Kleef was off finding Ellem, and he was alone, taking his sweet time to redress. The medical droid entered briefly to hand him a prescription of anti-radiation pills that he was to take until the bottle had emptied. He was sizing up the final task of putting on his jacket when Red entered the room and dove onto his hospital bed in one fluid motion.

"You told me this was a bad idea," Jak said to Red, who was sprawled on the hospital bed as if it was a university bunk. "I should have listened. I'm sorry, old friend."

"But when? When do you listen, Jak?" The Gran muttered into his pillow. "I've resigned myself to the wailing wall of logic in your life, one of the many shouting reason over credits. It's fine. We're in this to get filthy rich. But did you ever consider one of the banking clans? Because the banking clans don't have big fracking spears they like to lodge into ships."

"No, they just have loans and private militias. Also, you literally specialize in explosives. How is the ship by the way?" He asked, half wincing through gritted teeth with one arm plunged through a jacket sleeve. He knew the answer already.

"We're stuck here til they fix the other ships. But, if it's any consolation, we're in the big beautiful Herdship, so there's bound to be resources..."

"When they get to us," Jak interrupted with a frown. He left Red to a bit of R&R and made his way to the mammoth hangar of the Herdship, passing by The Nice Jacket. Stretch called out to him, but Jak waved him off and Stretch understood. There was just no good way to stare at the dead carcass of your broken ship without the means of repairing it, and he had no intention of crying today. As the crew worked round the clock to repair the ships that required less extensive work, Jak made himself busy reading the available logs. If there was a vacant transport, he was ready to board it. Red Eyes was right; he was a liability to his own crew. His decisions led them to this point, and a voice within him (that same one that convinced him to leave Coruscant) was also hoping he'd skip town.

"Jak? Jak Bexel?" Came a voice behind him. It was a young male, there was some semblance of positivity... hence the young. Jak froze in his impropriety towards the cause... then a big fat hand slapped him on the back. All of Lenon Bankston's 6'5 250 lb frame led Jak into a laughing embrace. Jak mustered a hearty laugh to meet his pal's energy. "Haven't seen you since Council weekend! Whatchu got?"

He lightly sparred with the feeble Bexel, who noted the man's new gear. "They got you flying now, huh?"

"Right? Long way from security guard!" He chuckled -- this man was a very bad security guard, but a better pilot, so on Jak's recommendation, he got his wings. "They got me flying alright, I've been in Aurek fleet for some time now, flying a B-Wing."

"How is that? Those ships intrigue me," Jak asked, his peripheral vision catching a small blue blur of Stretch running at him from across the hangar.

"It's alright, kinda nice. Think about moving your head around while walking. That's kind of what it's like to manage. But when you get used to it, you don't want to fly any other ships. I'm out, but it was good seeing you," Lenon came in for another handshake hug.

"Good to see you too brother. Keep em' flying," Jak smiled.

"Keep what flying?" Lenon asked, to which he responded: "The flags of discontent."

Lenon laughed and walked back to his squadron, leaving an opening for Stretch to intercept Jak. "You're not leaving, are you?"

===

Rolling into the R7 unit, Ellem spun a yarn of Jak's misbegotten adventures abroad, seeking out cannabis from planets on the edge of civilization. At the top of the story she mentioned his suggestion to call Buggie should he find himself in trouble, hoping the disclaimer would justify her actions. With the R7 as her interpreter, she regaled Twitter with tales of Sojourn, a tropical jungle planet that held an air of primal evil. Twitter shook its head at Ellem as she recalled the moment a baby Rancor --- still massive despite its age --- had swallowed her whole and trampled towards her master, only for it to violently regurgitate her onto the hot sands. She noted the planet's Sith origin and that the regurgitation did not feel like an internal mechanism, but that she was being yanked by an invisible hand. When her optics came to, her master was standing next to a tall dark visitor who seemed, according to her colleague Harold, to be affiliated with the Sith. She made some squeak about a tenuous business agreement between Jak and the man, but it was all vague to her.

"There you are!" Van Kleef yelled down the hallway at Ellem and company. She was halfway down the hall when it dawned on her who was standing before her. At first she thought it was just another Verpine, but the robes betrayed that notion. Then her brain rifled through all the possibilities and came to just one image; the Verpine on the holoprojector, whose movies meant so much to young Corellian latchkey kid Sandy. The revelation left her frozen in her tracks upon reaching Ellem, where she could only muster words half trapped in her throat.

"You're.... you're... you're Buggie...?"
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Master Buggie
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Re: Collateral Damage (Doren; Ask First)

Post by Master Buggie » Wed Dec 05, 2018 4:21 pm

Once Ellem and Buggie had reached Twitter, Buggie's gold-and-black colored R7-series astromech droid, the series of toots and beeps had begun to fly furiously back and forth. Twitter rocked side to side on her legs as Ellem excitedly relayed a story meant for Buggie. Twitter, playing the role of translator, hooted and whistled the details to Buggie as soon as her audio receptors picked up the information from Ellem, a task that Buggie briefly marveled at, since a the advanced droid brain within Twitter was capable of listening, interpreting, and translating the stories from Ellem instantaneously.

For someone who had spent so much time in the company of an astromech droid such as Twitter, Droidspeak had become a second language to him. Still, some of the tones his astromech droid emitted were unclear to him. He thought he understood something about an 'evil journey' and 'big foliage' coming from his droid, but the meaning of it made little sense to him. Noticing that Buggie's expression seemed confused, the BB-series astromech droid began to repeat the same tone, which Twitter translated unmistakably as 'Sith.' That caught Buggie's attention.

"Retain a copy of everything Ellem just told you in your databanks, Twitter," Buggie directed, "I'll want to hook you up to a computer later so you can spell this out to me. It doesn't all make sense right now, but I have a feeling Ellem wouldn't seek me out if this wasn't important."

Suddenly, a shout from down the corridor quieted the astromech droids. Twitter let out a low whistle, prompting Buggie to turn and see a short, Human female with hair the color of candy staring wide-eyed back at him. Buggie's multifaceted eyes played over her unzipped jacket briefly, searching for a name hemmed onto the breast or any other insignia, but found nothing. It seemed that she recognized him, however.

"That's me," Buggie replied.

Ellem then chirped and Twitter immediately translated. The BB-series astromech droid appeared be announcing the name of the newcomer.

Glancing at the droids briefly, Buggie turned his attention back to the Human and asked, "Did Ellem get away from you, Sandra?"
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Doren Vassyl
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Re: Collateral Damage (Doren; Ask First)

Post by Doren Vassyl » Thu Dec 06, 2018 6:01 pm

For the remainder of the task force's journey through the ionic mists, all was well. As the bow of the Reverent came ducking out of the energy cloud, Doren's eyes took a moment to adjust to the more-predictable lighting of the greater cosmos. At first glance, it appeared the Imperials had encountered some sort of trading post, with a cluster of large shipping transports just now pulling away. Rubbing his overworked-eyes to confirm this, the Line Captain gasped in spite of himself, as the harmless, hazy blob of a space station flattened out into what Doren took to be a military dry-dock- with a fleet contingent still in tow! At that same instant, Vassyl's communications hub began blowing up with hostile sightings, but their voices were as dull and distant as the next nearest star.

"All ships to defstat three!", the Captain bellowed at full volume, drowning out the nervous chattering of the bridge staff, "Send an emergency dispatch to High Command immediately!". Not waiting a moment for the stern clamoring of affirmation, Doren immediately spun about on his onyx boots, and called for his XO, "Mister Torbough!". "Aye Sir", Vincent calmly obliged, a trace of anxiousness lining the recesses of his voice, "What is our stratagem?". "Given the circumstances", Vassyl growled discontentedly, "A standard two-rank formation is probably in order. Have the Reverent fall back and establish the rear flank alongside the Warden and carrier double-oh six. The Stormpelt shall lead our advance beside the Viper and frigate three-sixteen".

"Very good Sir", Vincent nodded in approval, "I doubt our enemies will be able to decipher out intentions from such simple tactics. Shall I apprise the Lieutenant Colonel of the situation?". "Heh, simple indeed Lieutenant", Doren mused, and considered the many great battles that had been claimed by the subtle and obscure, "Yes, we should keep Mister Benroy informed of this treacherous development: something tells me he'll want to have a chat with the local warlord". With that, Vassyl left his right hand man to his various tasks, and watched from the confines of the command bridge as the picket vessels scrambled to form the chest-plate of the naval ensemble. Commander Bexel's mystery ship had brought a whirlwind of trouble with it. Now, Vassyl only hoped the prize would be worth the effort.

***

"Soldiers of the Four-Four-Six", Vlaf boomed such that the richness of his voice encapsulated the whole hangar, "When the Empire grants a system its autonomy, it is given as a sign of trust". The Lieutenant Colonel paced briskly from one end of the assembled battalion to the other, and continued, "Trust, that is not given lightly, and is awarded on the grounds that a system obeys Imperial law, and preserves law and order. Today, a patron world has broken that sacred trust, and allowed hostile forces to cling to our borders". Vlaf stopped midstride and turned to sneer at his troops directly, "That cannot and will not be tolerated, and it is our job, here and now, to illustrate the price of dishonoring the faith placed in this traitorous despot".

Noticing in his aggravation that he had unintentionally rolled his shoulders, the Lieutenant Colonel straightened up, and concluded, "Make no mistake, this is no mercy mission. We shall strike hard and fast at the resident ruler's compound, and you will deter any resistance you encounter- by any means necessary. If the rogue can be taken alive, make it so. If he cannot- well, I trust the lot of you to make a statement". With a brief chortle, Benroy grinned in earnest at his comrades, before hardening into a serious salute, "Your transports are waiting. Let's get our boots on the ground before our friends in the navy have their hands full. Best of luck to each of you: all hail the Empire!". A wave of similar gestures and exclamations followed thereafter, and the shuttle bays fell into a flurry once more.
-------
"He's dangerous that one"
"Because he's a fanatic?"
"A fanatic with a conscience"

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