Original Post by Xerxes Nova...
OOC: Half of this post is a reposting of what was in the previous thread that has been placed here for context
Context: prior to the proceeding post was a conversation between Admiral Brakken, Captain Sash Allkar and Commander Kunnandi about the loss of contact with The Ring of Kafrene. The discussion involved potential actions they could take most of which could potentially leave the fleet or the BSP vulnerable, they decided sending in a single well trained operative would be their best option. Captain Allkar suggested Midshipman Nova, a suggestion which has not gone over well with the Admiral.
ICC:
Aurek Fleet, The Rust Bucket
Xerxes sat back in his pilot's chair, looking up and out of the cockpit at the vista of pinpoint lights that was the void of space. He was on his personal ship, the 'Rust Bucket' a ship that looked like nothing more than a pre-clone wars junker, barely operational but, the interior he, Scrap and Tex had stripped back to the bare bones and rebuilt on more than one occasion. He loved the ship, it was as much a part of him as anything could be without being physically grafted to his flesh. He had left a small way station where some of the Aurek fleet had docked for repairs. As a floating mechanic he was sent wherever needed but, he spent most of his time within the Aurek fleet, much to his dismay. He had shown too much instability and unreliability early on in his time with the BSP and that had been with the Aurek fleet. In that time he had shown this side of himself more than once to its Admiral and had been little more than a tolerated nuisance ever since. Admiral Brakken cared not for all he had done since, as he hadn't yet managed to redeem himself for those earlier mistakes. As it was then he always found his work on the Aurek fleet tiring as he strove to rectify the opinion of the Admiral in some way so as to remove the constant observation he was placed under whenever he worked on the ships under his command. Now he had some free time before his next assignment.
Aurek Fleet, The Luma Flare
"Sash" the Admiral growled forgetting formalities for the moment which was an uncharacteristic lapse for the stern man even in an impromptu strategy meeting like this. "Even for you that goes beyond a joke. That kid is nothing more than a liability, weak willed, weak in body and broken in the head. I wouldn't trust him to serve us tea; I tolerate him because I have no other choice to." The venom in the man's voice was astonishing but, Sash could understand it. For the Admiral's respect was hard earned and the boy had proven too unreliable in his early time with the BSP. Setting aside what happened during the Gradan affair, which had irritated Sash as well, the boy had taken possession of a junker and had a tendency to vanish for weeks if not months on end. She was about to say something when a harsh retort came from an unlikely source.
"Midshipman Nova is one of the best mechanics under my command Admiral Brakken and I would thank you not to take lightly what he has done for us. He had issues early on I grant you that but, he's tried his best no matter what and proven himself more than capable. Our ships are a week ahead of schedule on their maintenance thanks mainly to that kid." Kunnandi hadn't raised her voice; the wookiee not having the grasp of non-native tongues to risk such a thing but, her inflection was cutting. However, so was the glare that came from the Admiral, his mouth seemed to be working over words he found quite unpalatable as he worked on his reply.
"Midshipman, Commander Kunnandi I must be mishearing you, or are you in on the joke with Captain Allkar, because I certainly never gave my approval to raise that parasite above rating, let alone give him Officer Status." Brakken hated the idea of such an unworthy worm being allowed even a snowballs chance in hell of ever reaching command. He was certain he had blacklisted the boy's name to ensure that he could never pose a threat to the organisation by getting into a position of responsibility. He may be a good mechanic but, Brakken could never approve of someone so fragile being allowed to lead his fellow pirates. The lad had caused enough disruptions as a rating.
"I raised the matter of promoting Midshipman Nova several times over the last year; finally I got approval at the last fleet meeting." Kunnandi couldn't understand Admiral Brakken's reaction to the news, it was a new promotion to be sure but, the order had been rectified by the Admiral's office. Kunnandi shot a glance in Sash's direction, though she wasn't particularly good at reading the amphibian's expressions she definitely saw a glint in the Captain's eye. "It made sense after all, he does a lot of work throughout the fleets, not just Aurek, and a lot of his work was delayed due to local technical teams seeing him as a helping hand rather than the organiser I was sending him to be, his age was an apparent issue. So giving him rank, a rank he earned thrice over I might add, was the easiest way to get round that issue. Our brothers and sisters on other ships might dismiss him due to his age but, they can't ignore his pips."
"They bloody well should. Don't you remember what he was like, when we needed our crew to be as strong, stable and reliable as possible that child kept fainting, even the mission he was put on almost failed because the kid passed out at a crucial point. If we'd had any sense we would have left him behind then and there." The Admiral was rifling through the collection of holopads on his desk looking for something but, he sighed and raised his eyes to Sash and asked "Captain Allkar, care to explain why the one Fleet meeting I was unable to attend due to a council meeting was the one where I apparently authorised the promotion of this..." Brakken took a deep breath and growled grudgingly "Midshipmen."
Kunnandi had, had her suspicions that the Admiral had been vetoing Xerxes promotion but, had assumed that the results the boy had shown in the reports at the last meeting had finally convinced Brakken. Now she realised she had been fragged, so to speak, if the Admiral hadn't been at the meeting that meant it had been Captain Allkar acting on his authority that had resulted in Xerxes getting his pips. That put not just Commander Kunnandi and Midshipman Xerxes in an awkward position but, the entire engineering and technical team. She was about to ask for clarification when Sash spoke.
"It's quite simple Admiral Brakken, I have been keeping an eye on the lad in passing ever since the Gradan affair, to be honest I was looking for an excuse to transfer him to another fleet." A hint of animosity surfaced as she said that. It seemed that Xerxes had really pissed off the top brass of the Aurek fleet during the Elrood mission and Kunnandi was glad that he had somehow remained under her command. "It was after that affair that I noticed his skills, without much training or understanding of our systems he managed to slice a lock to get into a captain's quarters...."
"WHAT" bellowed Brakken rocketing to his feet and knocking the heavy table forward a couple of inches in the process. Even Kunnandi was taken aback by what Sash was saying. Such an offence was never reported which meant the boy had been either very good or had managed the repairs himself, either way at the time that would have been quite significant yet, whose quarters could he have infiltrated. "Did you know this?" the barbs in the Admiral's voice were evident but all Kunnandi could do was answer him truthfully "No Sir and I know of no repairs to replace such a slice either." Brakken seething dropped back into his chair "Just what sort of poodoo show are you running in engineering" at that Kunnandi bristled but she had no retort, he was right how could she not know.
"It was never reported" Sash chimed in "but the more pressing question is whose quarter's did he slice his way into?" She gave the two a chance then smiled and said "Captain Rhys Nero." Brakken and Kunnandi both straightened at that and looked at each other, they both knew the man and what he was. Pirate first he might be but, there was no hiding the pair of lightsabers he carried proudly. "Which explains why the incidents that occurred during the Gradan affair did so" Sash said a moment later, Kunnandi cottoned on almost instantly the look of shock on her face was precious but Brakken just narrowed his eyes. "Explain yourself Sash", the Admiral wasn't slow, he knew what she was hinting at, but still wanted it confirmed. "I went back and looked at the times Midshipman Xerxes passed out, each one coincided with the firing of the Gradan weapon and tremendous loss of life. Combine that with his meeting with Captain Nero and his flight logs that include places like Endor and..." "We have a Force sensitive" Brakken finished, "Pity he's not trained but at least he shouldn't pass out again." The disgust in the Admiral's voice had mellowed out know he understood why the events had occurred as they did and was reassured to think they wouldn't happen again.
"I beg to argue Admiral, though he may not be trained in a tradition as the erstwhile Captain Nero was, that boy, no young man certainly is trained." With that she started to lay out the information she had been collecting piecemeal from her sources in the fleet over the months, but one thing jumped out at Kunnandi immediately "A theft of a single crystal, during a trade, how did you" she looked at Sash and realised she would never get an answer, the fish liked to play some things close to the chest but such a specific item could only mean one thing.
"The Kid has a lightsaber" Brakken murmured with something nearing appreciation in his voice as he looked over all the work the young lad had put in, alright not into the BSP but, he was starting to wonder what would happen when the Midshipman finally got serious. "By my reckoning he has two" Sash said as she indicated some reports from the Crèche ship Cutting Edge. The pair were perusing the data when a chime announced someone's arrival. "Ah yes I did ask one more person to join us and if you don't mind I want to get orders to Xerxes to return to The Luma Flare to set him on his new mission." Brakken looked up at this and finally nodded, he wasn't sold on using the kid like this but, he at least wanted to talk to him face to face. As Sash took her leave a tall and slender bothan came into the room, a near perpetual smirk on his face due to injury and nerve paralysis from some long forgotten campaign this was Lieutenant Colonel Oryon Hudorra of the Celestial Combat Engineers, a specialist unit made up of combat trained and ready engineers capable of holding their own in a fight while figuring out how best to build, repair or destroy whatever structure or machinery that needed their attention. Kunnandi though she officially outranked him in the fleet he was of equivalent rank via the CCE which made for some interesting posturing and head butting between the two who had joined the BSP around the same time. "Well I hear you guys might have an interesting candidate for me?" Hearing Oryon say that Kunnandi felt a cold shiver run through her body as she realised now why Sash had invited him and she had a premonition of losing one of the most promising recruits she had, had in years.
Aurek Fleet, The Rust Bucket
Xerxes was tinkering aboard 'The Rust Bucket' within his little workshop. For whatever reason he had felt the need to start reassembling the lightsaber and shoto that he was constantly tinkering with as he tried to design his preferred weapon, the traditional forms just weren't working for him and though he knew his Master had been adept with a dual wielding style no matter how he tried to emulate it, it never felt right. "'ey Kid ya got ya orda's through" the pirate blinked and stood absentmindedly clipping the light weapons into their concealed holsters as he did so. "Twins, relay message to workshop monitors please" a moment later the words were scrolling past and he couldn't help but feel a little apprehensive. He was being summoned before the Admiral for the second time in his short career. He could only hope this time went somewhat better than the last meeting he had been called to.
Aurek Fleet, The Luma Flare
"Lieutenant Colonel" growled Kunnandi in reply "I don't know what you've heard but, I certainly do not have a recruit for you at this time." The bothan raised his eyebrow that merely made him look even more aloof and assured of himself in combination with the perpetual smirk. "I'm sorry Commander Kunnandi but, as the representative for the Combat Engineers within the fleet I feel I have every right to approach whoever meets our criteria and a drop out like yourself has no..." "Petty Officer" Oryon flinched at the use of his BSP rank, though he dared not retort, not knowing who had spoken. "I believe I have said it many a time, though you may enjoy rank among your clan you have yet to show that you are worthy of such high station in my, or those of my captains, eyes. If you are going to disrespect Commander Kunnandi for prioritising the fleet and not her clans pissing contest then I may instruct those within Aurek fleet to ignore your erroneous title do I make myself clear." Kunnandi blinked, she had not expected the Admiral to come to her defence on this matter, he often ignored the intra-clan contests like this and in general though the fleets officially went by their BSP rank they did seem to respect the ranks attributed to the members of the specialists. She felt somewhat heartened by the Admiral's support, though it was true that she had left the CE before really joining. It was out of realisation that her issues with speech made her a liability in a charged field situation, not out of lack of skill.
"Very well Admiral" though he could not really show the embarrassment of the admonishment on his face it certainly came through in his voice, though he refused to lower his head. Pride was most certainly a vice but for Oryon Hudorra it was also strength, it may be a by-product of the bothan backstabbing political gainsaying system but, his pride could be bruised but when it was it simply pushed him to do better and overcome. However, though Kunnandi had nothing against the man she could not see him progressing, his combat skills were undeniable, on par with the best marauders, and his mind sharp in the heat of battle his skills as a technician and engineer were lacklustre and he had raised to the position of Lieutenant Colonel and representative of the Combat Engineers within the heart of the Aurek fleet by political acumen rather than merit of his skills. When you look into his history as a combat engineer it was to see his victories being mainly those of combat rather than completing the job at hand but he somehow always managed to take credit for the work of the more competent engineers. Well she supposed that was a skill in itself but, one that had not got him the same promotional track within the BSP Aurek fleet whereby evidence of hard work and capability were required to advance and Kunnandi had, had to, on more than one occasion, fix a botched 'good enough' repair by Oryon on her climb up. It probably didn't help the situation of the pair that they had essentially been competing since they joined the organisation and each had succeeded where the other failed, well in the eyes of Oryon maybe. Kunnandi could care less for the achievements of Oryon so long as they were earned she would celebrate with him. Of course now she realised that with her recent taking over as head technician she was effectively his boss and his primary route for promotion would now have to be okayed by the person he saw as a rival, maybe that was why he seemed so glad at the prospect of snatching such a promising recruit away from her.
"Let's get back to the issue at hand" Oryon continued in a more demure manner "Commander let me assure you I have no intention of stealing a recruit from you Rating Nova has been on my radar for a while, thanks in part to Captain Allkar pointing out some of his achievements." Kunnandi let the use of Xerxes old rank slip for now but her brow furrowed, "You speak of his accomplishments but, though I admit he is certainly a very able mechanic and technical advisor on certain factors, none of that would have brought him to the attention of the CCE." "Agreed, though I do not pretend to understand how another clan runs its specialists I have seen nothing in Nova's history with us to suggest that he is any good at combat. Surely that is something you as a combat division would want to assess." Oryon nodded at the Admiral's statement and then pulled out the holopad he carried and placed it before them. "I agree nothing in his service history, other than the bungled Elrood affair, would hint at his suitability but, what he is known to have done outside, on his personal quest is another matter." He pulled up a report and still image "This is him and one Corran Veller breaking into a ship owned by a Hutt crime lord by the name of Troga, though this ended uneventfully it proves the risks he's willing to take. This is what Captain Allkar brought me, then we at the CE started our own investigation." He pulled up several files, some recordings and witness accounts. "Most notable in his combat history is that he fought, and survived, against the former empress of the Empire, one Krynn, a well known and powerful Force user at the time, though she has recently fallen into obscurity." The images of the destruction after the encounter was astonishing "Then there is the case of Hafhall and the 'Wounded Peace'"
At the mention of the name of the notorious middle man and the den of iniquity of a space station the room's atmosphere became charged. The organisation kept tabs on the place of course and even influenced it on occasion but, they tried to have as few dealings with it as possible. "Hafhall is bad news by anyone's standards to be willing to turn to them" mused Brakken it was then the door slid open once more and Sash returned. "He didn't just turn to her, he dethroned her" the room was silent for a moment before the Mon Calamari broke it "Explain Hudorra" this was not a question it was a simple statement and the bothan had to wonder who he found more intimidating, the Captain or the Admiral, considering the way he got the impression daggers were being aimed at him at that moment he would have to say the Captain. He cleared his throat stopping himself from coughing nervously "Hmm, Well yes, I was going to of course. You see he was at the 'Wounded Peace' but it seemed that Hafhall though had other plans, she had been paid to eliminate the lad and had gathered all she could before luring Rating Nova into a trap." Oryon pulled up the few witness statements he had managed to collect from those who hadn't taken the job and those who had cleaned up after. "It was a massacre by all accounts, and one, Hafhall, or Cyl'van as we now know her real name was, can't remember, nor can she remember the name of Xerxes Nova yet the reaction its mention has on her." He pulled up a picture of a haggard looking cathar female used and abused as only those who live by the gates to hell can be. "To say she is deathly afraid of the name would be an understatement and a lot of her mind has been damaged but, nothing external can account for the wounds her mind had sustained. Needless to say with its leader reduced to snivelling deficient the network collapsed."
The room was silent for a very long time as the three original members looked over the extensive research Oryon had brought which included things at the recent base construction within Koorivan Sector which showed yet more perseverance and battle acumen but, they all kept returning to the Hafhall file. "Can he be trusted?" to all's present surprise, including the speaker, it was Kunnandi who had spoken. His greatest supporter throughout this entire mess but, it had to be asked and she hated herself for being the one to voice it. "An apt question, we have standards and this Hafhall affair, though it doesn't break our rules it skirts a very fine line." "Well put Admiral, though she is no one's slave, she could very well have become so given the state she was apparently found in." There was no need for the apparently in the statement they had all seen the images and recordings of what she was like the day after the meeting apparently occurred, you could practically smell the effluent coming off the image. "It is indeed shocking but, can we really condemn it." "It would have been kinder to end it rather than leave her as she was." "Many have voiced the same sentiment but, I don't think Rating Nova knew how much damage he had done to her mind and leaving her alive to me speaks more of his humanity than his cruelty." "Explain" Oryon nodded to the Admiral "This happened nearly a year ago now, he has grown stronger and more competent with time and yet, though his search for those he calls family continues another such incident as this has not occurred." "Maybe he just hasn't been kind enough to let the others live" interjected Sash and Oryon shook his head. "That's just it you referred to it as a kindness to let her live yet wonder if he should not, for Rating Nova I think he wanted information, that's all he wants, his anger is aimed not at those who enslaved him but, at himself for not being able to rescue those he left behind. If Hafhall had given him the information willingly I don't think he would have resorted to such unpractised measures and everything we have from his psych evals says the same. He's not a Jedi or a Sith, he's not even a goddamn Shadow he's a kid trying to learn and find his family, and family to him is everything, he is willing to sacrifice himself a thousand times over to protect just one family member." "I don't find that very heartening," grumbled Brakken, "Neither do I," interjected Sash "if he felt that the best way to save his family was to betray the fleet," "You're essentially saying he'd have no compunction about doing so." Oryon realised what he had said and the mood in the room darkened until Kunnandi asked "Cu-Be, translate fujoolskilda and kuhob-whoya." There was a moments silence then "Both have the same translation Commander if I am correct that you meant fjölskylda and khobkhua, the former is Miralukese, though an obscure dialect and the latter Firrerreo both of which mean family."
Kunnandi smiled and it was Oryon who spoke "Care to share with us why you chose now to activate your translation droid?" "Given what you have said we can trust Midshipmen Nova, after all, those are the two words he uses to describe the organisation." She watched as realisation dawned on the others as well and sighed, the audible relief was not missed by the others but, they could all feel it just the same. It was then that Oryon picked up on what was said "Midshipmen Nova" Brakken nodded, "Yes apparently Captain Allkar used my absence at the last fleet meeting to rubber stamp Kunnandi's request" "Sith Spit" cursed Oryon "I was going to offer him the rank of Second Lieutenant since I knew the chances of his promotion in the fleet had been scuppered." "Well I'm sure he'll still take it if you offered it to him, who knows where someone like him would get promoted quicker" Kunnandi joked.
Aurek Fleet, The Rust Bucket
Xerxes docked his ship within 'The Luma Flare's' priority docking bay and watched as the ratings swarmed the ship setting about refuelling and resupplying. He didn't have time to question it but he wasn't sure if this was a good or a bad sign. He checked himself in the refreshers mirror one last time. Scrap had done an amazing job in laundering his dress uniform, the new pips on the lapel shone and the blue of his uniform was unblemished, even his tri-corner hat looked new. His blastsword was strapped to his right hip and an empty blaster was holster was one his left hip. The only things that weren't a part of his uniform were the lightsaber and shoto under his shirt and strapped to the small of his back. He didn't know why he was bringing them along, but, he couldn't shake the feeling that he should do so, futures were in motion it seemed and the Force wanted him prepared whatever may come. Finally he pulled on the necklace he had made from Aoife's last charm given to him to wish him luck in his escape and tucked it under his shirt, normally it lived in the cockpit or within a strongbox with his other treasures but, like his light weapons he felt the need to carry it on him this day. The cool of the metal on his chest acting as a reminder of the promise he had made. Sighing he turned, bade farewell to Tex, Scrap and the Twins and headed down the ramp and headed towards the Admiral's quarters wondering just what all this meant.
Aurek Fleet, The Luma Flare
Force Level 11 (Training Start)
Xerxes stopped before the doors to the antechamber of the Admirals office, he knew that once he stepped through those doors something would change. He knew not what, but he could sense it the charge in the air was like that before a storm the electricity pricking his skin sending a crawling sensation of anticipation over his body. He wanted to... no he would, he threw away his caution for once and embraced the Force allowing his senses to fully awaken, the colours deepened the second sight coming into sharper focus and he saw, through those doors were his future, a path that once taken he would never be able to take a step back from. This choice was not presented to him yet but, he knew that this was the only time he would have the option, the option of leaving. He took a steadying breath and closed his eyes allowing his mind to wander the streams of the Force, he was one gifted of many sights, but the most mysterious of them was one that he could rarely grasp as was the case with those who had the talent for it. Yet even without it he knew that the path to the Futures split here, one where he would be accepted, brought into a new family but in which he may very well lose the one he desperately sought, the other was twisted and unclear a shadow that would see him fall into the dark loneliness without any guarantee of relief. He stared at the doors he could feel the light calling him forth urging for him to follow the path that meant he could escape the fear of forever being alone in this world but, he couldn't take that path, to do so felt like he would be abandoning those who had sacrificed for him and he couldn't do that. He turned...
(Training Pause)
"What is he doing?" the usually calm and logical tones of Captain Allkar took on a confused and quizzical note. "He's leaving" Admiral Brakken said bluntly "Midshipman Nova seems to think my summons was voluntary" a growl enter the whippid's words at the audacity. A heavy and pregnant silence seemed to fill the room as two of the three still in the room expected the third to speak but all they heard was a catch deep in a throat from the Wookiee and a surprisingly soft tones of Cu-Be as he translated what had obviously been far more meaningful a word in the Wookiee tongue "Kid..." Allkar and Brakken looked at the droid for clarification, both were familiar with the wookiee language but, that was no word they understood. "That is the best I can translate. To be precise it means a young dyed in the shadows of the forest lost to light unable to take the first step to adulthood. I believe the sentiment refers to one at a branching of ways that could see one grow or stagnant, at the boundary between two equal truths or a child without name having cast aside ones child name but having yet to find their true name. I felt that all that could be best expressed by that single word. As it is more sentiment than language." Allkar and Brakken nodded at the explanation it aptly grasped the atmosphere. The young pirate had been heading to the door but had stopped and it seemed that Kunnandi had been the only one with the words for the situation they saw played out before them. What had caused the boy to stop, to turn and step away and back down the route to his craft none of them could guess at but, he had certainly made a decision and one that none of them could have expected. "I guess that means that we'll have to inform our friends in the Kafrene Ring that Aurek Fleet will not be able to send assistance and to rescind Xerxes Nova's credentials" the captain said with a hint of disappointment, she had been the one to bring this up in the first place and now having fought the Admiral it seemed that the boy was just that, a boy in the greater scheme. She sighed and turned to get the paperwork started and the security changed when that soft catch came again from Kunnandi.
(Training Resume)
Xerxes was almost at the end of the corridor when he stumbled, a flash of insight sparking through him as lightning grounding as he was catapulted back in time. The Force crackled over his chest and over the only symbol he had remaining from his family in the mines.
A beautiful woman stood before him, a shining beckon in his heart and even the grey dust that caked her couldn't hide it. She was a shining soul, his greatest support when the others were ill, when their Handlers tried to beat them down she was there, she helped him up and for her, for them he could do anything. Yet, now he saw the glaze in her emerald eyes, the tears she was desperately holding back. "You have to go now, Zyanya got a message to us, you're to be purged" "I can't, if I run they'll know someone talked, they'll punish you, all of you" "Let them. I... We would rather suffer a whipping knowing you live rather than suffer the pain of knowing I... We lost you when we could save you." "Aoife, Kral and Jared may not survive a punishment and if they find out Zyanya was..." "We'll take it, you khon cha don't you see we, I won't survive without you" "Of course you will, you've always been the strongest of us, you're the heart of the khobkhua. As long as they have you they'll survive" "Khon cha I'm saying I won't sur..." "Leave," "Survive" "Run" Xerxes felt pain slam into his side and he looked down to see the pale red fist digging in under his ribs, "Omf, Zwei what are..." "Stop being stubborn, do you know how much Zyanya risked to get us this information, if you waste it I'll never forgive you." His yellow eyes blazed with an intensity and he looked around at the others The frail Jared smiled despite the pain he knew he was feeling with each laboured breath his lungs barely functioning in all the dust, the single syllable that had cut through Aoife's statements had been loud and clear but obviously hurt him. Taz's declaration to survive had been neither loud nor dramatic but, it resonated perfectly within Xerxes ears, the Nagai's voice perfectly modulated to get him to take note and the simply sweet word of the young Florence was at odds with determination in the young girl's eyes. He sighed and nodded "Fine, but I will be back, survive till I return to rescue you." They all nodded but Xerxes got the distinct impression only the young Florence truly believed his words with the naive assurance of the young. As he turned to leave them Aoife pressed something into his hand and he saw the strength in her eyes, not just the strength to carry on but, he realised that like Florence she too was holding onto his words. Pressing something into his hand she said "Never forget your promise"
The moment faded and he held the trinket, it was the only thing that Aoife had of her parents and etched in a language he didn't speak in letters he had never seen anywhere else was a single word the meaning he knew simply because of what he had been told Khuaamvang, Hope. He looked up and remembered the poem that Aoife always recited.
(Training Pause)
"He's stopped." Brakken watched the display wondering just what had happened to the lad. It had looked like he was going to leave but he suddenly straightened and now his hand was slowly going for something round his neck but, before it could reach it. "Out of the shadows one stalks to become a hunter of tomorrows dawn" the low growl of words spoken in basic from vocal chords ill suited for it Sash turned back to the screen and saw as the boy turned on his heels, not a boy the purpose in his eyes and the determination as he strode towards the antechamber once more told her that whatever had occurred it had spurred a change in the young pirate that even a promotion hadn't. "It seems something has awakened within him" she commented with a hint of appreciation in her voice but, Kunnandi shook her head "Not awakened, Reawakened, this was how he was in those images that Oryon showed us."
(Training Resume)
Xerxes marched to the door his jacket billowing out behind him. The doors opened but Xerxes blurred as a volley of shots aimed at the door missed as his outline cleared up in the centre of the room, his speed far greater than anything they had anticipated. "The sight that shined in the darkness" the lad muttered to himself as he raised a hand over his head. Oryon spun to retrain his blaster on the young man but was just in time to see him clench his fist as the two security droids fire on him. "That leads us from the obis" the light cut out with clenching of his fist and there was a startled yelp from Oryon his sight cut off suddenly only to be blinded a moment later as the bolts struck home but, instead of dealing damage they were converted into power that crawled around the figure in the centre of the room illuminating him in a crackling cage of blue, red and yellow lighting for a brief moment before the light died once more. "Takes our hearts and lifts us to new heights" the murmured words resounded throughout the room the pitch fluctuating as if three or four different voices were speaking at once with a lyrical and jarring discordance of pitches which had Oryon stumblimg as his ears were unable to make sense of the disorientating noise that seemed both load and too quiet. "And helps us win our fights." Xerxes flung out his arms the sound of the dress jacket moving was not lost to the droids unaffected by the Force infused recital got ready to fire once more but Xerxes was not empty handed, a pair of black orbs was launched from his palms as he flourished the light from the blasters illuminated the form of the pirate as he rolled forward away from the blasts before they fizzled away but, also the twinkling transparent blue streams that reached out to each of the droids. The water he had gathered into his palms was freezing as they travelled to their targets. The water alone may not be enough but, combining it with his cryokinesis made it just what he needed. The droids realised too late the danger as the water slashed over them and then a moment later the cold hit freezing them in a cocoon of ice. It wouldn't take long for them to break free though. Oryon realising the predicament he was in loosed a shot at the pirate hoping to distract him but, all it did was reveal the silhouette of the lad already airborne. As his role had come to an end he had shunted power into his legs and he was somersaulting back to his original position only he twisted to land facing Oryon who had been at his back. His hands shot out once more this time grasping the icicles that currently impeded the droids and drove his power along the connecting line. Normally he could only focus his power on one droid at a time but, this time he had set up his own guide wires. He grasped the hearts of the droids, the very source of their power through the Force, through the ice and started to draw it out. There was a crackling discharge and an ethereal blue light started to fill the room as the energy within the droids started to crackle along the ice and through their own systems as he scrambled them finally the energy died down an echo of words "That will deliver us from despair" seemed to haunt the room as the light returned. The two security droids had been fried, the ice having acted as a conduit for some of the power that was drawn from the droids had melted and a combination of cool puddles and light steam now hazed the two droids.
The words had lost their strength as the energy had been drained from the droids and besides the odd echoing quality there was nothing more to them at the moment. Oryon theorised that the target had been unable to maintain the aural assault alongside the energy drain and with the return of normal illumination in the room it seemed that the lad was weakening, of course he was, anyone would be after such a display. He raised his blaster and took aim the man's eyes met his, cold steel with a bluish silver sheen to them, those weren't the eyes he'd seen and wondered just what it would do for his reputation within the CE and fleet were he to defeat a Force user singlehandedly.
(Training Pause)
The shocked silence from the Admirals room as they watched the battle in the antechamber, unravel was the only response to the initial engagement.
Brakken couldn't take his eyes off of what he was watching, was that the same shaky brat he had first admonished on the bridge over a year ago. He couldn't believe it, he had been the one to suggest that Oryon should test Xerxes in battle to ensure that he was truly CE material but, just where did the Kid get this experience. The droids were specialised units that Brakken used for training and to see them taken out without the enemy so much as touching them was a strange thing to witness. That speed at the start, he had expected something, was that why he had turned away at the door. No that wasn't the reason, with the display of combat skill he had just shown there would be no need to hesitate. So just what had that been about? He checked the chronodisplay and let out a sigh at the same time as the other two.
Speed, what was that speed at the start, everything had started from that. In naval battles if you could get the drop on your target you won, if you had the speed to out manoeuvre in a space battle you had a thousand more options, Sash Allkar knew this but, to see it used in a battle between men. There shouldn't be that great a discrepancy in their speed yet even the droid hadn't been able to instantly track him. Then he attacked the sensors, another classic in naval combat but, surely blinding Oryon blinded himself as well and the droids weren't affected so how could he take advantage. When she saw the crackling power round the fighter she knew, defence, he believed his defence was strong enough to weather the storm if he could just reduce the concentration of fire and of course the droids would need to adjust after seeing something like that which gave him the break he needed. From one surprise to another, the Kid was fighting making use of the three dimensional space in a way no human should be able to. She sighed as the light returned and heard the same from the other two.
Just what are you planning Kid, she thought as he strode towards the doors but, she could already see it in the way he moved, he was hunting, he knew what was behind the doors and he did the first thing anyone would, take the element of surprise from them. He had ended up in a perfect position from the point of view of the attackers, dead centre of the room but, when the lights died Kunnandi knew that Xerxes had placed himself there on purpose, no one knew the ships better than the technicians, even if he couldn't see Xerxes would know the dimensions of that room like the back of his hand. The way he moved though, she realised was to take advantage of the droids, no matter how well programmed they were if they encountered something outside the norm they would fall back on best fit scenarios and optimal attack approaches, if you knew how to force them to act more on programming than garnered experience and acquired subroutines the easier they were to handle. He had done just that and she realised he was going to take them apart like any technician would, strike where they were most vulnerable, their power supply. Now she couldn't have anticipated how he did it but, she let out the bated breath echoing the other two
"Well" "Well" "I'd say there's no doubt he's a Force user anymore", a deep rumble came from Brakken that Sash realised was laughter "You don't say," he managed then took a moment to pull himself together "I'd say he's proven he can fight, though he seemed to take a few hits it doesn't look like there's a scratch on him." "What I find more impressive is he done all this without using a lightsaber." "Yes, I must say I find that disappointing but, maybe he doesn't actually have one, after all after all that, why would he need one." Sash shook her head "No he definitely has one, I think we can just say that he doesn't require it for this level of training exercise" "Even if it was a surprise exercise" the whippid admiral let out another chuckle and turned back to the screen it was only then Kunnandi spoke, "It's not over yet." "What do you mean?" "The droids are defeated." "That they are but Oryon isn't and if I know anything about Lieutenant Colonel Hudorra, it's that if he thinks he can improve his standing with something he'll try." Brakken and Sash looked at one another and nodded that seemed like the bothan, "Besides," she added with a smile "There's still three lines left" the pair frowned, it wouldn't be until much later that Sash having re-watched the event would realise just what Kunnandi was referencing.
(Training Resume)
Oryon was transfixed by the eyes for a moment and then pulled the trigger, the lad caught the bolt in one hand, the skin flashed and the smell of burnt flesh permeated the air, he cursed and dove to the right behind one of the chairs as Oryon continued to fire. Flexing his hand he managed to push down the pain and then coated his right palm in the Force drawing the plasma to the surface, collecting the cells that had been damaged and rendering them into components as he encouraged the remaining cells to feed on the products and divide, the rapid acceleration of the healing process saw a fresh layer of pink skin form over the burnt palm in a matter of seconds, he was obviously approaching some kind of limit despite the fact that he could still feel the ebb and flow of the Force but... He then shook his head, it was like anything else, muscle memory played a role, he had only ever used the ability to absorb as a passive skill trying to actively grasp an energy bolt from the air was simply showing off and because of that he had been slow in getting the correct amount of power to absorb the strike. Well at least it had brought him back to his senses. Oryon was skirting the edge of the room so he timed his next action carefully, concentrating on the stack of papers obviously left by attendants in a vain hope that the admiral would look at something only tangentially related to the running of the Aurek fleet and focused his strength there. As Oryon past it there was a whoosh as they went up in a sort lived conflagration of flame. Oryon spooked turned to the flame and Xerxes made use of the temporary distraction that had seen Oryon raise his blaster. He contorted the flame turning it into spiral that swarmed up his arm, panicked the furred humanoid flail his arm releasing his weapon that skittered over the ground. Xerxes focused on the metal increasing its electromagnetic field and creating the opposite charge in his palm. The weapon didn't fly to him but slalomed over the floor in great curve. Snatching it up he said in his resonate tones "Comes from those who care" as he took aim and pulled the trigger there was click and a hiss and the technician cursed as the genetic lock on the weapon rejected him and released a stun charge that coursed through his flesh. Gritting his teeth he battled the spasms of his muscles pulling them back into a semblance of control but, not quick enough to prevent taking a sucker punch to the jaw. Lights flashed in front of his eyes for a moment but he fought that down raising a hand to block the next blow as he regained control it was all he could do to fend off the blows of the combat engineer, turning his body to lessen the impact and reinforcing his muscles to be able to absorb the impact. Once he was fully over the stun charge he was in a pure defence mode again an onslaught of strikes coming from various angles but as he entrusted his defence to the combination of Force and instinct once more he found the flow of strikes and waited for his chance. As the bothan came in for a heavy straight Xerxes used his aether enhanced speed and strength to shift his weight into a southpaw stance slip under the right straight and deliver a hard blow to the ribs where he pushed as much of his will into it as possible. Oryon crumpled around the blow and dropped to the floor. "Life is not just learning to cope" the great ocean of power whipped around the turbulence that Xerxes had caused and he infused his electrical nature into it as he lash out at the groaning Oryon, the maelstrom of power washed over the botan's mind like a organic EMP causing a cross wiring and disruption of all his senses causing his struggle to his feet to become arrested as he lost track of up and down and momentarily tasted colours. That was all he needed, as Xerxes pooled all his anger, pain, frustration into his left hand he could see the ephemeral claws and he brought it down on his assailants head as he muttered "Anything is possible with hope". The claws dug in and shattered within the bothan's mind and he let out a pitiful howl before jerking and sprawling out on the carpet like a marionette with its strings cut.
(Training Pause)
"The recitals complete" Kunnandi said as Oryon collapsed and she had to admit to a slight smile curling her lips at the treatment of Oryon, he had seen what he thought was an unarmed and tired Force user and had hoped to get the credit for subduing him alone, instead of stopping when the droids were disabled and declaring it a assessment session and offering him rank in the CE. "He never drew his weapon" Brakken remarked, "He never needed to" Sash replied, they had seen just how fast the Kid had been when that last punch had landed which had floored Oryon and made him a target for whatever the boy had done to him. "Kunnandi, how did you know?" Brakken didn't need to voice the question as well, his quizzical look was enough. "The words he was reciting, they're a mantra I've heard before" she chuckled at the memory "He recites it whenever he's working through a problem he refuses to leave behind." Sash and Brakken nodded "A way to strengthen his will in his darkest moments" "Yes, though I wonder if he's realised just why it works" "Kunnandi?" "The girl who taught him it, he's in love with her, though I don't think he's realised it yet." They looked at each other and all shook their heads collectively "For someone so sharp to be so dense" Sash chuckled "Shall we go rescue Petty Officer Hudorra" "I don't think we need to Admiral" Kunnandi nodded at the screen and they saw Xerxes shouldering the unconscious form of Oryon and walking towards the door. The group straightened and watched the door.
(Training Resume)
He had forgotten how clear the world got when he didn't restrict himself. He knew, as he was, he could likely be sensed by any Force adept within the fleet but, the only ones he knew of were Master Nero, whom he hadn't seen in a long time and Master Buggie who he made it a point to avoid if he could. The fewer people knew what he was capable of the better. This time though he had known from the bright red hues that had settled over the path that led to light that he had no choice but to fight at his best. In the end the darkness was one of being unable to trust those closest to him, not one of loneliness due to being unable to find a family, the very thing he was turning his back on. The Force though had told him that he was being watched throughout, he had been well aware of the cameras in the room and the way they seemed to track the battle rather than scan the room. A simple spark of power through his memory sped up the recall of the schematics of ships like this. There were two areas where those cameras could be accessed directly, he would have to wipe the recordings later from the primary mainframe but, he doubted anyone would be watching the feed directly, usually that job was left up to automata and since no alarms started at the outset he could only conclude that the secondary feed in the Admiral office had control, flooding his body with power he walked towards the inner office. Now that he was more focused on the fluctuation of life, though always fainter than the mechanical to his senses, he recognised two. One was a familiar warm green like that of a forest in the evening, the other was the brutal white essence he had met only a couple of times but, enough to leave an impression. The third was as cool as the ocean, the feelings he had from them a combination of the senses it was almost as if he could feel the colours in a weird synaesthesia effect, all however were emanating a sense of approval and maybe a bitter-sweet combination of apprehension and excitement. He stepped through and bowed to the three, Commander Kunnandi, Admiral Brakken and the third he knew by sight alone Captain Sash Allkar, three of the top ranking members of the Aurek fleet. "This can't be good" he said in a measured tone "The Admiral, his second and the top ranking Technician in a closed meeting and calling a lowly Midshipman to it. I can only thing of a few situations where that might happen and since I just got promoted I know the only good prospect is least likely."
(Training Pause)
"As astute as ever Xerxes" Kunnandi commented, her lip twitched as she tried to stop herself from smiling, there was something cathartic in seeing Oryon unconscious carried over the shoulder of the Midshipman. Maybe she wasn't as detached from their rivalry as she had thought, she made a mental note to assign overseeing of Oryon's promotion opportunities to another. Though as she saw a similar struggle on the faces of Sash and Brakken she felt somewhat vindicated in her reaction. Xerxes walked over to a bench seat and placed the man down showing no more effort than one would expect to see in an adult putting a child to bed. "You've got a lot of explaining to do" she said jovial "Really," he said with a smirk as he turned back to them "I would have thought my actions were enough of an explanation." He looked back at the bothan "Who is this man anyway, I've seen him around, bit of a bodger in my opinion but, people seemed to show him respect." Kunnandi chuckled and Sash said incredulously "That's Petty Officer Huddora, Lieutenant Colonel of the Combat Engineers, how can a Celestial like yourself not know who he is." The young man shrugged, his demeanour was that of someone completely unconcerned "Why would I want to know something about the CE, I'm an Technician not a fighter." There was a stunned silence that was broken by a cascade of deep guffaws emanating from Admiral Brakken. Everyone just looked at the whippid in consternation none of them having even expected the man was possible of such merriment. Gaining control of himself "I haven't laughed so much in a single day in a long time, I thank you for that but," he indicated the door to the antechamber through which Xerxes had come "after everything you have displayed how can you say you are no fighter." Xerxes turned and looked back at the mess he'd left behind "I suppose I should qualify it as those being my sentiments, I know how to fight but, simply knowing doesn't make me a soldier, just as simply knowing how something works doesn't make you a technician." Brakken nodded, "Then I have one more request for you before we get to the heart of the issue." The Midshipman chortled and reached for the blade at his hip and Brakken nodded "I see I need no voice it."
(Training Resume)
Back in the anteroom, the debris pushed to the sides for now Xerxes stood both hands gripping the large cortosis blastsword, a weapon he found to be rather unbalanced but, before him was Brakken, the far larger whippid held his own sword, they had agreed to a training match and the emitter on the swords had been turned down to facilitate that. A blurt from Cu-Be and the match commenced. Xerxes body moved quickly slipping forward but, his speed was nothing close to what he had shown before but it needn't be. This wasn't a gutless ambush but a battle face to face, there was nothing to be learned by winning without crossing blades in earnest. As such the boy had wrapped the Force around him, allowing it to suffuse his entire being without focusing it to a single point, his speed, strength, reflex and agility were all enhanced beyond his normal limits. Tendrils of the empyrean were extruded from his hands, twining around and through the blade allowing him to sense it as he would a part of his own body and extend his sense though it, feeling the closeness of each sweep and the pressure of blow and block. Sharp jabs shocked his sense of self as he allowed a simulacrum of pain to inform him how his blade was faring. It was difficult, not unlike the use of a lightsaber in some ways and completely alien in others. These sensations in turn fed into his greater awareness of the battle going on around him and he could feel the flow of the combat ever teetering in the stronger man's favour. Xerxes stepped sideways and brought the blade down to cover is left side from a vicious blow, he pushed his blade down and forward to lock the hilts of the two weapons together giving him a moments respite as he didn't need to follow the weapon. He looked over his right forearm to lock eyes with the Admiral as his left arm elbow was forced to give moving in towards his left side as the weight of the attack pushed in. He had a split second to decide and did so even as his legs acted, he flung his body over the top of the blades, using his own as a shield but, in doing so he sacrificed his grip and as his body's resistance to the blow disappeared the blow ripped through where he had been tearing his own blade, locked up with the Admirals as it was, from his grip sending it skittering across the room. Xerxes landed focused his power at his feet adhering a single foot and spun in and low to slam his body into the whippid under his sword arm, he grasped him around a single bicep thicker than Xerxes thighs and placed all his strength into pulling Brakken forward using his body as a fulcrum. To Xerxes amazement the Admiral didn't resist instead throwing himself forward and rolling over the boy, onto the floor and back up he twisted and slashed too far away to reach but, the boy acted on instinct putting him off balance and then the Admiral stepped in with a well timed thrust, the burst of blaster fire blackened the Midshipman's front but, he also felt a slight tapping on his own thigh. Looking down Brakken saw Xerxes' foot and he knew that though he had won, the boy had been vindictive and in a real battle the victory may have turned hollow.
Force Level 11 (Training End)
Aurek Fleet, The Rust Bucket
One briefing later
Xerxes sighed as he settled into the cockpit of the 'Rust Bucket' once more and looked at his reflection in the glass. A new addition had been added to the sleeve of his uniform, in fact two new additions, the symbols of the Celestials and the Combat Engineers. Kunnandi had finally gotten round to fully inducting him into the clan at the end of the briefing and when Oryon had woken up he had reluctantly given him the CE badge, both were about a quarter of the size of the fleet badge and sat directly under it. The Combat Engineers one had a small pip denoting him as a Second Lieutenant, a week ago he had been nothing more than a rating, now he had rank twice over. Shaking his head he ran through the pre-flight and launch procedures. "Tough meetin' Kid" Xerxes thought about it, the briefing not so much, the testing by Oryon Hudorra and Brakken had certainly be draining but, by far the worst part was the questioning. "Yeah, as they go. However, we have a mission, find out just what has happened to our technicians in the Kafrene Ring." "Aye Aye Kid, coordinates ar' set and translation point is coming up, whenever yar ready." Xerxes nodded and pulled the levers plunging them into hyperspace, wondering just what awaited them and what it would mean now his secret was known by some of the higher ups within the fleet.
Where Good Dreams Go Bad (BSP)
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Master Buggie
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Salem Norongachi
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Re: Where Good Dreams Go Bad (BSP)
The Rising Tide Cantina
There wasn't much Nik could say to the five men that took up the burden of suicide. There was a grim resolve to their demeanor when they broke off from the main body of his forces and he didn't want to sully their potential sacrifice with even a fraction of emotion. They knew what they were doing, knew the moment they signed up with the BSP. For all the credits and glory, they all served a higher cause.
"N'kal?" Nik spoke, the reverberation of gunfire ringing out around them.
"I'm here, whatever you did drew the rest of those bastards away." there was a click, some static that seemed to stretch out for far too long while the fire fight raged beyond before the line reestablished. "You're clear."
The Pirate motioned for his men to follow as they moved through the rat warren that opened up into a main artery of the station. The Rising Tide lay less than two dozen steps away, whatever guards had stood around its doors now converged on the five left behind.
They moved in, breached the doorway and carried out their orders.
The East Side Betting Shop
Twenty men stepped out onto the street, guns bared, the sentries posted there drew a breath of disbelief and then their world became laser. Uncountable bolts punched into the brick and metalwork, scoring and puncturing wounds in the outer wall of the Bookies. Windows shattered, shards ripping through the air into the street to catch more than one unwary passer by with a face full of shrapnel. They fired, and they fired, they poured on so much heat that the very bricks began to glow and melt. It was Base Delta Zero in a microcosm, nothing could survive. Nothing would survive. Those were his orders.
"Cease fire!" Wallis roared over the din of weapons fire. "Cease bloody fire!"
There wasn't anything left, they could see bodies strewn lifeless, broken strong rooms where the takings would have been stored. They saw the wounded and the maimed crawl among the devastation and Wallis looked them over before giving a motion of his hand. His men spread out, one per barely living soul, and put a bolt cleanly through their heads.
Orders were orders.
The Talavega Casino
Death. Norongachi could practically taste it in the air, riding the ethereal currents of the Force. Somewhere, in a dark forgotten part of himself, pity gave the ghost of a whisper before it was silenced. There wasn't room for human weakness on the path he walked. A path without end, it seemed.
Ahead of him lay the Casino and beyond its walls he could feel the thrum of life and the sizzle of panic and haste clouding the air around that life. They knew they were under attack, so only one question remained; Would they send out a response force or dig in? Sal rested an armoured arm on one knee, and watched from his vantage point atop the ramshackle rooftops. It didn't take long before bodies began streaming from the bottom floor entrance, but they weren't armed or indeed affiliated with the gang members within. They looked like punters, unceremoniously expelled from the gambling den by rough handed guards that quickly sealed the heavy metal door behind them.
"That answers that then," he thought but remained stationary, allowing the civilians to disperse from the future combat zone. When the last meandered down a side corridor he made his move, dropping down onto the duracrete below with a metallic clunk as his boots made ground fall.
'No windows on the ground floor. Four overlooking the entrance on the second. Roughly thirty bodies inside.' the armour clad soldier made these assessments like an afterthought, his eyes and senses of the beyond taking in these details without any prompt and filling in the tactical picture for him. He didn't rush his attack, but walked, casually toward the durasteel doorway. He didn't need preternatural senses to feel the eyes upon him, they'd taken up position at the windows. With what hardware he couldn't quite make out from this distance, even with the enhanced optics of his helm.
"Eeny," he spoke, his voice carrying into the night. "Meeny," the thermal detonators on his belt snapped from their moorings, guided by thought. They rose to shoulder height, one on either side. "Miny," the building lay a dozen meters away and the first of the haphazard blaster shoots began to pepper around him. "Moe." the silvery orbs took on a life of their own, firing like bullets toward the windows furthest from the doorway.
Now Norongachi moved, his body shifting from walk to blur in a heartbeat. The Force moved with him, a tornado of power that thrummed through his body, giving unnatural speed and uncanny reflexes as he rippled through the increasing fire raining down upon him and then he was at the doorway. His foot had barely touched the first step when the night was driven away by simultaneous detonations. As bright as the twin suns of Tattooine they reduced all within their blast radius to dust. The defenders never even had a chance to scream their last before they were erased from existence.
In unison with the explosions, his blade leapt into his grasp and cleaved an emerald wound across the durasteel door. A command from his mind and a thrust of his hand was all it took to send the broken metal ripping inward, the whirling halves of metal catching and colliding with a few brave souls beyond the threshold. The disarray was evident to his senses, the confusion and fear, but that didn't stop those who could fire from firing as he began a determined walk into the flickering lights of the main hallway. The crimson daggers of energy became playthings for his saber as it snapped happily into their trajectories and turned the deadly lasers back upon their masters. The hallway was soon filled with bodies, and his pace never wavered as he meticulously moved from room to room, a methodical execution of all inhabitants that ended on the second floor, before the perfectly circular hole one of his detonators had made.
In the distance, he could see the flickering amber of fire. The fruits of the nights work.
"Casino clear."
"Betting Shop clear."
"Cantina clear.
There wasn't much Nik could say to the five men that took up the burden of suicide. There was a grim resolve to their demeanor when they broke off from the main body of his forces and he didn't want to sully their potential sacrifice with even a fraction of emotion. They knew what they were doing, knew the moment they signed up with the BSP. For all the credits and glory, they all served a higher cause.
"N'kal?" Nik spoke, the reverberation of gunfire ringing out around them.
"I'm here, whatever you did drew the rest of those bastards away." there was a click, some static that seemed to stretch out for far too long while the fire fight raged beyond before the line reestablished. "You're clear."
The Pirate motioned for his men to follow as they moved through the rat warren that opened up into a main artery of the station. The Rising Tide lay less than two dozen steps away, whatever guards had stood around its doors now converged on the five left behind.
They moved in, breached the doorway and carried out their orders.
The East Side Betting Shop
Twenty men stepped out onto the street, guns bared, the sentries posted there drew a breath of disbelief and then their world became laser. Uncountable bolts punched into the brick and metalwork, scoring and puncturing wounds in the outer wall of the Bookies. Windows shattered, shards ripping through the air into the street to catch more than one unwary passer by with a face full of shrapnel. They fired, and they fired, they poured on so much heat that the very bricks began to glow and melt. It was Base Delta Zero in a microcosm, nothing could survive. Nothing would survive. Those were his orders.
"Cease fire!" Wallis roared over the din of weapons fire. "Cease bloody fire!"
There wasn't anything left, they could see bodies strewn lifeless, broken strong rooms where the takings would have been stored. They saw the wounded and the maimed crawl among the devastation and Wallis looked them over before giving a motion of his hand. His men spread out, one per barely living soul, and put a bolt cleanly through their heads.
Orders were orders.
The Talavega Casino
Death. Norongachi could practically taste it in the air, riding the ethereal currents of the Force. Somewhere, in a dark forgotten part of himself, pity gave the ghost of a whisper before it was silenced. There wasn't room for human weakness on the path he walked. A path without end, it seemed.
Ahead of him lay the Casino and beyond its walls he could feel the thrum of life and the sizzle of panic and haste clouding the air around that life. They knew they were under attack, so only one question remained; Would they send out a response force or dig in? Sal rested an armoured arm on one knee, and watched from his vantage point atop the ramshackle rooftops. It didn't take long before bodies began streaming from the bottom floor entrance, but they weren't armed or indeed affiliated with the gang members within. They looked like punters, unceremoniously expelled from the gambling den by rough handed guards that quickly sealed the heavy metal door behind them.
"That answers that then," he thought but remained stationary, allowing the civilians to disperse from the future combat zone. When the last meandered down a side corridor he made his move, dropping down onto the duracrete below with a metallic clunk as his boots made ground fall.
'No windows on the ground floor. Four overlooking the entrance on the second. Roughly thirty bodies inside.' the armour clad soldier made these assessments like an afterthought, his eyes and senses of the beyond taking in these details without any prompt and filling in the tactical picture for him. He didn't rush his attack, but walked, casually toward the durasteel doorway. He didn't need preternatural senses to feel the eyes upon him, they'd taken up position at the windows. With what hardware he couldn't quite make out from this distance, even with the enhanced optics of his helm.
"Eeny," he spoke, his voice carrying into the night. "Meeny," the thermal detonators on his belt snapped from their moorings, guided by thought. They rose to shoulder height, one on either side. "Miny," the building lay a dozen meters away and the first of the haphazard blaster shoots began to pepper around him. "Moe." the silvery orbs took on a life of their own, firing like bullets toward the windows furthest from the doorway.
Now Norongachi moved, his body shifting from walk to blur in a heartbeat. The Force moved with him, a tornado of power that thrummed through his body, giving unnatural speed and uncanny reflexes as he rippled through the increasing fire raining down upon him and then he was at the doorway. His foot had barely touched the first step when the night was driven away by simultaneous detonations. As bright as the twin suns of Tattooine they reduced all within their blast radius to dust. The defenders never even had a chance to scream their last before they were erased from existence.
In unison with the explosions, his blade leapt into his grasp and cleaved an emerald wound across the durasteel door. A command from his mind and a thrust of his hand was all it took to send the broken metal ripping inward, the whirling halves of metal catching and colliding with a few brave souls beyond the threshold. The disarray was evident to his senses, the confusion and fear, but that didn't stop those who could fire from firing as he began a determined walk into the flickering lights of the main hallway. The crimson daggers of energy became playthings for his saber as it snapped happily into their trajectories and turned the deadly lasers back upon their masters. The hallway was soon filled with bodies, and his pace never wavered as he meticulously moved from room to room, a methodical execution of all inhabitants that ended on the second floor, before the perfectly circular hole one of his detonators had made.
In the distance, he could see the flickering amber of fire. The fruits of the nights work.
"Casino clear."
"Betting Shop clear."
"Cantina clear.
Re: Where Good Dreams Go Bad (BSP)
Kafrene, Southern Perimeter
Ellem's ocular dome weaved about her form to avoid the hindquarters of the masses. Try as she might, it was nigh impossible to remain straight and roll over the feet of passersby. To compensate for the obstacles, this caused a significant number of "excuse me"s and "watch it ball"s and countless unmentionables that would have turned Ellem red with embarrassment if she weren't metal and wires.
"I don't get sequential explosives," Red Eyes grumbled. "Why do three smaller booms when you can nail em' with one shot?"
Ellem chirped in her compressed basic, pointing out the need for it to seem accidental, thus mimicking a failure of circuitry.
"Who's that gonna help when we're about to kick off a turf war?"
Ellem disagreed, and let him know.
".. this idealist over here."
They were riding the edge of commerce and civilization. Soon the tall cramped corridors reached an abrupt stopping point, just outside the monorail system that outlined the city limits. Signs in graffiti'd Aurabesh warned of the encroaching lack of gravitational pull beyond this one-mile range. Beyond the final storefronts that curved around the edge of the southern-most point, beyond the rolling rocks of wild asteroid terrain, there was nothing left but black with the occasional catch of blue light from Kafrene's nearby star.
Ellem turned her dome to observe the endless dark abyss that the denizens of Kafrene were huddling away from, that the light refused to touch. She felt small. Objectively, she was small, so it all checked out. Her primary photoreceptor dilated to its fullest aperture as a means to make sense of what desolate beauty lay beyond her, made bright only by the asteroids fortunate to be graced by clarifying star light. Her momentary lapse in programming was cut short when her surface sensors indicated they were at the edge of an abandoned outpost.
"First power coupling." Red Eye tapped her dome, kneeling down to meet her eye.
He placed his fat paw on the steel ground, measuring it up in relation to the building structure. "Better hit this one first. I'll get to work, you get in that system. And keep that eye out."
Ellem droned a tenured affirmative, noting that he was the one with three. A small access port spun out to reveal a tray containing three small incremental-sequence thermal detonators. Red-eye grabbed them each and hustled over to the last dilapidated building. It was Ellem's job to access the power grid, bypass the Ring's central security protocols, and divert all nearby power to the empty building. Red Eye would assist with the explosion, natch. But Ellem's work would be intricate and nuanced compared to the brute force at play. She would have to pass off a fake ident as a local maintenance droid, sending a data packet with a false deed to the abandoned building.
Normally this would require an urban planning board and scores of red tape, but Ellem has been working on the false purchase of this building for the last week through, again, a network of fake identities. In fact, much of Ellem's work in the past year with BSP's Nightshade Research and Development involved cultivating this wall of lies thru the pirates' slicer droid network. Where demographics and the almighty credit dominate the game of intergalactic commerce, she inadvertently created an algorithm that created a demographic.
She also, within seconds of gaining access to the power channels that ran beneath the structure, discovered the true source of the plans - inside this abandoned station.
= = =
Southwest Perimeter, near Bantam Outpost 1
Plans changed. Initial scans had one outpost pegged. But intercepted frequencies pointed to a dual relay between two outposts that sat a ways off from each other. Jak and Arruna agreed to split up upon discovery of these two outposts - Bantam 1 and Bantam 2. These were for listening and enacting new layouts. They still were searching for the head. Arruna took the east, and Jak headed west towards outpost 1. When the power was to be cut in the southern district, the plan still leveraged on confusion as their cover. It had been some time since the Captain had engaged in active combat with an untold amount of opponents, and he felt that old familiar pit his stomach. Now that there would be no blasted Jedi to keep him alive this time if things went sideways he had to be careful. Fortunately, he was stocked to the gills with all manner of gadgets that could slow down any detachment of low-rent mercs. Perhaps instinct would guide him. Was that the Force or tactical sense?
The western fort was squat and pentagonal, its storefront advertising fresh meats - how any meat on an asteroid colony arrived and remained fresh was up for long debate. There was entry on the roof, but it was next to a pair of guards who looked rattled. Traversing the high ground through the vertical piping above, Jak's helmet ran life scans of the complex. It read six, but the lookouts had to tack on a little more. With population density being unusually high, he had to pick his spots and move often. If the roof was out, perhaps a window would suffice.
Before he could plot his next course, however, his encrypted comm came alive with a deafening screed from Ellem.
"What? how can that be?" He shouted back, ear sore from the alert. "Hang on! I'm coming!"
Behind him was the distant growl of a speeder - likely moving at a snail's pace through the crowded street. He was directly overhead, and the speeder was not far away now. If he timed his drop, it would be pretty damn wizard. He took a deep breath, pushed off the railing, and landed squarely on the hood. Now came the improvisation.
"Kafrene police," He commanded through his helmet, blaster drawn. "I'm sorry, I must commandeer this vehicle."
The alarmed Gungan behind the wheel scrambled out of the battered green speeder and sprinted away from Jak before he could even finish his lie.
"Well, it worked."
And he was off.
===
Southern Perimeter, Abandoned Building
Ellem could not react fast enough. Her vocabulator shrieked within earshot of Red Eyes and she felt minor sorrow for nearly scrambling the comm in her master's ear. Hopefully, it was enough to alert her partner. Truthfully, it may have saved his life, as the sounds tipped him off - just barely. Her relief was momentary, as she caught wind of movement from the shadows headed towards Red.
Meanwhile, our token stoner Gran was just turning the corner with the third incremental bomb when the Raider struck with a medium length pointed vibroshiv His hand caught the blade straight on. Stabbed through, the Gran could only howl in surprise and pain. The Raider smirked at his luck and drove the shiv deep, twisting it and wrapping his fingers around Red Eyes' throat. Red Eyes groaned rough from his gut and tried to keep his feet steady. Using his leverage against him, the Raider hoped to stab through the hand and direct the brunt of the blade into Gran's chest. All Red could think to do in this moment was clasp the man's throat just as much. His hands were bigger than the slippery human before him, his neck as well. Something shifted in the man's throat, and Red saw a way through.
Fracturing this jerk's trachea wasn't the way. The solution was the thick bloody weaponized paw between them. Adrenaline was kicking in, and Red was not having anymore of it. He threw a knee into the midsection of his assailant, using this time to twist his hand opposite, pointing the blade away from himself. With his free hand ever tighter around the now-concerned Raider's throat, he kicked off the wall and threw his weight onto the ground, taking the bandit down. They fell with a sickening thump. The force of it drove the pointed end of the vibroshiv through his opponent's forehead. Ellem rounded the corner to see her friend grimacing over a twitching, soon-to-be deceased assailant. Red Eyes turned to her and hollered: "I said keep an eye out!"
Ellem hung her head but caught wind of three more men approaching, as well as the raider's blaster. She had little time to snatch it up from his holster before they emerged from the shadows, guns drawn. She had a little more time than Red Eyes, who was now trying to divorce his captive hand from the skull of a two-bit hood.
= = =
Central Cluster, by Rising Tide Cantina
The Horn Sisters were en route to the Rising Tide Cantina, dressed to the nines and ready to play fool for the sleaze bags and hustlers they so wanted to bleed. Stretch and Harold accompanied them, since their destinations coincided with one another and they were able to discreetly diverge between the two points. Harold carried a toolbox loaded with weaponry. Stretch had what he called a "skeleton key", a data card that could unlock most transports. The Horns had their requisite trackers and comms, but were otherwise dangerous at any level.
"It's always the one sorta removed from the guy spending all the creds," Stretch instructed. "He's always looking for a way in deeper, and he'll never neglect to tell you how much responsibility he's got. This is gonna be a piece of cake."
"Cake?" Inquired Harold.
"Don't start," Stretch piped back.
They were a block or two away from the Rising Tide Cantina, but the commotion before them was exceedingly hectic. They could see police transports and bystanders looking on. As the gang got closer, they could see what had befallen the establishment. Bodies strewn about the street, smoke billowed out of the shattered windows. The smoke and structural damage let loose the broad neon lights from the inside. It was a glowing chaos cluster. The air was thick and full of ozone, enough to stop the gang dead in their tracks.
"So much for squeezing them good and hard," Tessa muttered.
"Unless you're into this sort of thing," Riz offered her partner.
Then their comms went haywire with Ellem's alert. All three sentients grimaced and shuddered, if their covers were blown then it was that moment.
"I kriffin' knew it, Harry, I kriffin' knew it all along," Stretch huffed as they backtracked from their initial location to the abandoned warehouse. "Come on guys, let's grab that police transport."
"So much for cloak and dagger," Harold protested.
"What cloak and dagger anymore?! They're dying in the street! Jig's up! Now come on!"
Ellem's ocular dome weaved about her form to avoid the hindquarters of the masses. Try as she might, it was nigh impossible to remain straight and roll over the feet of passersby. To compensate for the obstacles, this caused a significant number of "excuse me"s and "watch it ball"s and countless unmentionables that would have turned Ellem red with embarrassment if she weren't metal and wires.
"I don't get sequential explosives," Red Eyes grumbled. "Why do three smaller booms when you can nail em' with one shot?"
Ellem chirped in her compressed basic, pointing out the need for it to seem accidental, thus mimicking a failure of circuitry.
"Who's that gonna help when we're about to kick off a turf war?"
Ellem disagreed, and let him know.
".. this idealist over here."
They were riding the edge of commerce and civilization. Soon the tall cramped corridors reached an abrupt stopping point, just outside the monorail system that outlined the city limits. Signs in graffiti'd Aurabesh warned of the encroaching lack of gravitational pull beyond this one-mile range. Beyond the final storefronts that curved around the edge of the southern-most point, beyond the rolling rocks of wild asteroid terrain, there was nothing left but black with the occasional catch of blue light from Kafrene's nearby star.
Ellem turned her dome to observe the endless dark abyss that the denizens of Kafrene were huddling away from, that the light refused to touch. She felt small. Objectively, she was small, so it all checked out. Her primary photoreceptor dilated to its fullest aperture as a means to make sense of what desolate beauty lay beyond her, made bright only by the asteroids fortunate to be graced by clarifying star light. Her momentary lapse in programming was cut short when her surface sensors indicated they were at the edge of an abandoned outpost.
"First power coupling." Red Eye tapped her dome, kneeling down to meet her eye.
He placed his fat paw on the steel ground, measuring it up in relation to the building structure. "Better hit this one first. I'll get to work, you get in that system. And keep that eye out."
Ellem droned a tenured affirmative, noting that he was the one with three. A small access port spun out to reveal a tray containing three small incremental-sequence thermal detonators. Red-eye grabbed them each and hustled over to the last dilapidated building. It was Ellem's job to access the power grid, bypass the Ring's central security protocols, and divert all nearby power to the empty building. Red Eye would assist with the explosion, natch. But Ellem's work would be intricate and nuanced compared to the brute force at play. She would have to pass off a fake ident as a local maintenance droid, sending a data packet with a false deed to the abandoned building.
Normally this would require an urban planning board and scores of red tape, but Ellem has been working on the false purchase of this building for the last week through, again, a network of fake identities. In fact, much of Ellem's work in the past year with BSP's Nightshade Research and Development involved cultivating this wall of lies thru the pirates' slicer droid network. Where demographics and the almighty credit dominate the game of intergalactic commerce, she inadvertently created an algorithm that created a demographic.
She also, within seconds of gaining access to the power channels that ran beneath the structure, discovered the true source of the plans - inside this abandoned station.
= = =
Southwest Perimeter, near Bantam Outpost 1
Plans changed. Initial scans had one outpost pegged. But intercepted frequencies pointed to a dual relay between two outposts that sat a ways off from each other. Jak and Arruna agreed to split up upon discovery of these two outposts - Bantam 1 and Bantam 2. These were for listening and enacting new layouts. They still were searching for the head. Arruna took the east, and Jak headed west towards outpost 1. When the power was to be cut in the southern district, the plan still leveraged on confusion as their cover. It had been some time since the Captain had engaged in active combat with an untold amount of opponents, and he felt that old familiar pit his stomach. Now that there would be no blasted Jedi to keep him alive this time if things went sideways he had to be careful. Fortunately, he was stocked to the gills with all manner of gadgets that could slow down any detachment of low-rent mercs. Perhaps instinct would guide him. Was that the Force or tactical sense?
The western fort was squat and pentagonal, its storefront advertising fresh meats - how any meat on an asteroid colony arrived and remained fresh was up for long debate. There was entry on the roof, but it was next to a pair of guards who looked rattled. Traversing the high ground through the vertical piping above, Jak's helmet ran life scans of the complex. It read six, but the lookouts had to tack on a little more. With population density being unusually high, he had to pick his spots and move often. If the roof was out, perhaps a window would suffice.
Before he could plot his next course, however, his encrypted comm came alive with a deafening screed from Ellem.
"What? how can that be?" He shouted back, ear sore from the alert. "Hang on! I'm coming!"
Behind him was the distant growl of a speeder - likely moving at a snail's pace through the crowded street. He was directly overhead, and the speeder was not far away now. If he timed his drop, it would be pretty damn wizard. He took a deep breath, pushed off the railing, and landed squarely on the hood. Now came the improvisation.
"Kafrene police," He commanded through his helmet, blaster drawn. "I'm sorry, I must commandeer this vehicle."
The alarmed Gungan behind the wheel scrambled out of the battered green speeder and sprinted away from Jak before he could even finish his lie.
"Well, it worked."
And he was off.
===
Southern Perimeter, Abandoned Building
Ellem could not react fast enough. Her vocabulator shrieked within earshot of Red Eyes and she felt minor sorrow for nearly scrambling the comm in her master's ear. Hopefully, it was enough to alert her partner. Truthfully, it may have saved his life, as the sounds tipped him off - just barely. Her relief was momentary, as she caught wind of movement from the shadows headed towards Red.
Meanwhile, our token stoner Gran was just turning the corner with the third incremental bomb when the Raider struck with a medium length pointed vibroshiv His hand caught the blade straight on. Stabbed through, the Gran could only howl in surprise and pain. The Raider smirked at his luck and drove the shiv deep, twisting it and wrapping his fingers around Red Eyes' throat. Red Eyes groaned rough from his gut and tried to keep his feet steady. Using his leverage against him, the Raider hoped to stab through the hand and direct the brunt of the blade into Gran's chest. All Red could think to do in this moment was clasp the man's throat just as much. His hands were bigger than the slippery human before him, his neck as well. Something shifted in the man's throat, and Red saw a way through.
Fracturing this jerk's trachea wasn't the way. The solution was the thick bloody weaponized paw between them. Adrenaline was kicking in, and Red was not having anymore of it. He threw a knee into the midsection of his assailant, using this time to twist his hand opposite, pointing the blade away from himself. With his free hand ever tighter around the now-concerned Raider's throat, he kicked off the wall and threw his weight onto the ground, taking the bandit down. They fell with a sickening thump. The force of it drove the pointed end of the vibroshiv through his opponent's forehead. Ellem rounded the corner to see her friend grimacing over a twitching, soon-to-be deceased assailant. Red Eyes turned to her and hollered: "I said keep an eye out!"
Ellem hung her head but caught wind of three more men approaching, as well as the raider's blaster. She had little time to snatch it up from his holster before they emerged from the shadows, guns drawn. She had a little more time than Red Eyes, who was now trying to divorce his captive hand from the skull of a two-bit hood.
= = =
Central Cluster, by Rising Tide Cantina
The Horn Sisters were en route to the Rising Tide Cantina, dressed to the nines and ready to play fool for the sleaze bags and hustlers they so wanted to bleed. Stretch and Harold accompanied them, since their destinations coincided with one another and they were able to discreetly diverge between the two points. Harold carried a toolbox loaded with weaponry. Stretch had what he called a "skeleton key", a data card that could unlock most transports. The Horns had their requisite trackers and comms, but were otherwise dangerous at any level.
"It's always the one sorta removed from the guy spending all the creds," Stretch instructed. "He's always looking for a way in deeper, and he'll never neglect to tell you how much responsibility he's got. This is gonna be a piece of cake."
"Cake?" Inquired Harold.
"Don't start," Stretch piped back.
They were a block or two away from the Rising Tide Cantina, but the commotion before them was exceedingly hectic. They could see police transports and bystanders looking on. As the gang got closer, they could see what had befallen the establishment. Bodies strewn about the street, smoke billowed out of the shattered windows. The smoke and structural damage let loose the broad neon lights from the inside. It was a glowing chaos cluster. The air was thick and full of ozone, enough to stop the gang dead in their tracks.
"So much for squeezing them good and hard," Tessa muttered.
"Unless you're into this sort of thing," Riz offered her partner.
Then their comms went haywire with Ellem's alert. All three sentients grimaced and shuddered, if their covers were blown then it was that moment.
"I kriffin' knew it, Harry, I kriffin' knew it all along," Stretch huffed as they backtracked from their initial location to the abandoned warehouse. "Come on guys, let's grab that police transport."
"So much for cloak and dagger," Harold protested.
"What cloak and dagger anymore?! They're dying in the street! Jig's up! Now come on!"
Blue Star Pirate.
Captain, Nightshade Division. Slicer on weekends.
"It doesn't get much bluer."
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Salem Norongachi
- Staff
- Posts: 141
- Joined: Mon Sep 04, 2017 3:46 pm
Re: Where Good Dreams Go Bad (BSP)
A rolling lungful of cigarra smoke issued from Norongachi's mouth, much to N'Kals displeasure and he coughed to emphasize the point. The four of them were back in the humble shack where the wanton carnage of the evening had begun. None of them really spoke, or voiced what was on their minds. Instead they exchanged small talk, occasional banter and dealt cards around the table to distract from going too deep.
"Fold." Sal said quietly and threw his cards into the middle of the table. Outside and beyond they could hear the wail of emergency services earning their pay.
"You're doing that Jedi mind-reading-thing..." N'kal scowled, casting a sullen glance at his cards. "Its an unfair advantage is what that is, can't get a bloody fair game with your kind. Unnatural is what it is."
"Not a Jedi, fat boy, and I don't need to be telepathic to decipher that thing you call a sabacc face." Norongachi retorted.
"I'm out."
"Same."
"Every time I get a bloody good hand..." The rotund pirate grumbled as he gathered up the loose cards to deal. Despite his sausage like fingers, when it came to cutting and shuffling a deck N'kal was surprisingly dexterous. Splitting, spinning and fanning the cards in an elaborate display of practiced skill that must have taken years of patience to learn. They watched him idly, occasionally looking up as the shack shook around them, a passing security cruiser ripping over head sending tremors through the slapdash architecture. "Man I'd hate to be the guy that has to smooth this thing over with the cops."
"Chaos." Sal spoke as he picked up his cards and arranged them in his hand. "Chaos and a no banthashit, clear as day message; Don't get in our way. Thats what he wanted and that's what I gave them." his green eyes took in the three men at the table with a slow, deliberate, gaze. "The aftermath is someone elses problem."
"Fold." Sal said quietly and threw his cards into the middle of the table. Outside and beyond they could hear the wail of emergency services earning their pay.
"You're doing that Jedi mind-reading-thing..." N'kal scowled, casting a sullen glance at his cards. "Its an unfair advantage is what that is, can't get a bloody fair game with your kind. Unnatural is what it is."
"Not a Jedi, fat boy, and I don't need to be telepathic to decipher that thing you call a sabacc face." Norongachi retorted.
"I'm out."
"Same."
"Every time I get a bloody good hand..." The rotund pirate grumbled as he gathered up the loose cards to deal. Despite his sausage like fingers, when it came to cutting and shuffling a deck N'kal was surprisingly dexterous. Splitting, spinning and fanning the cards in an elaborate display of practiced skill that must have taken years of patience to learn. They watched him idly, occasionally looking up as the shack shook around them, a passing security cruiser ripping over head sending tremors through the slapdash architecture. "Man I'd hate to be the guy that has to smooth this thing over with the cops."
"Chaos." Sal spoke as he picked up his cards and arranged them in his hand. "Chaos and a no banthashit, clear as day message; Don't get in our way. Thats what he wanted and that's what I gave them." his green eyes took in the three men at the table with a slow, deliberate, gaze. "The aftermath is someone elses problem."
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Master Buggie
- Staff
- Posts: 1053
- Joined: Sun Sep 03, 2017 7:03 pm
Re: Where Good Dreams Go Bad (BSP)
***Sector: Classified, System: Classified***
***Aleph-Class Research Facility***
The reflection of a large, bulbous face appeared once again on the screen of Buggie's datapad. This time, he had been seated in a conference room, pouring over the budgets for the projects that he had undertaken. How the Bith Chief of Engineering had snuck up behind him, a trained Jedi Master, was unknown, but her ability to slink into a room was equally as impressive as her gift for gossiping. Turning his chair around to face her, Buggie politely asked what she needed, as she could be hovering over his shoulder for any number of reasons.
"I was wondering if you had heard the latest about Kafrene," Nu'walle asked, her expression clearly showing that if he hadn't, she was fully prepared to dish out the latest rumors.
Buggie shook his head, indicating that he hadn't, and Nu'walle carried on, "It is still unclear exactly what happened. Some say it was a team of Marauders, some say it was the work of the Black Hand himself, but either way, the Red Keys were cleaned out of a number of their facilities last night."
"Cleaned out how?" Buggie asked, though he already suspected he knew the answer.
"Blasters and explosives, mostly. The type of work we do not often concern ourselves with," Nu'walle shrugged, as if it were the most normal thing she had said all day, "Whatever is left of their personnel on Kafrene has gone to ground, launching similar raids on our own facilities. It seems they caught our man in charge unawares and made off with all of the data on our operations. They found him hanging off a casino after our attacks, minus an arm. Word has it that Admiral Brakken is now getting directly involved."
Contemplating, Buggie looked away. He had no appetite for this type of display, and it seemed he was powerless to step in. Resigning himself to sitting on the sidelines, Buggie told Nu'walle to keep him updated and carried on with his work.
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Doctor Krussk
- Registered Member
- Posts: 24
- Joined: Fri Sep 15, 2017 1:41 am
Re: Where Good Dreams Go Bad (BSP)
With squad Dragon having had a sizable time lead to begin their operation, Krussk ordered the remaining squads to move to their starting positions.
A few hours later Krussk along with his highly armed trio supporting him, comprising Alpha squad, was on the roof of the Megadyne office building whose top five floors had been commandeered into a command and control nexus for the Red Key Raiders.
Simultaneously the S'kytari Morrison along with eight capable white blades, comprising Beta squad, were taking up positions with Morrison himself flying nearly a half mile above the street level while his squad was checking ammo and gear just around the corner from an industrial zone that had be appropriated to produce cheap and rugged weapons for the raiders.
Finally the Toydarian tactician Smith along with his nine blades, comprising squad Cookie, were finishing setting up a forward operating base near the entrance to a sewer network containing a major resupply network for the raiders. Being an example of an armchair general, Smith relied on remote control drones to do the combat and utility roles for him. Any BSP operative seeing that as cowardly quickly learned that this preference wasn't one of self preservation, but rather practicality, as Smith is a true savant in controlling both combat and support drones.
The first to chime into comm's was Morrison with one click for ready. Krussk pinged back under a minute later, with Smith five minutes after that. From here it was up to each squad to exercise in the art of controlling chaos just enough to achieve a desired result. And as soon as that thought cleared Krussk's head, he hit the primer on the rooftop breaching charges for himself while his three compatriots rappel breached the adjoining windows. Across the city rockets were blowing up the exterior to warehouses as sniper bolts were flying in from constantly changing and nearly impossibly far vantage points. Finally a web of robotic eyes and guns flanked by experienced operatives were beginning to close in around a hive of hostiles. It was going to be a long day.
A few hours later Krussk along with his highly armed trio supporting him, comprising Alpha squad, was on the roof of the Megadyne office building whose top five floors had been commandeered into a command and control nexus for the Red Key Raiders.
Simultaneously the S'kytari Morrison along with eight capable white blades, comprising Beta squad, were taking up positions with Morrison himself flying nearly a half mile above the street level while his squad was checking ammo and gear just around the corner from an industrial zone that had be appropriated to produce cheap and rugged weapons for the raiders.
Finally the Toydarian tactician Smith along with his nine blades, comprising squad Cookie, were finishing setting up a forward operating base near the entrance to a sewer network containing a major resupply network for the raiders. Being an example of an armchair general, Smith relied on remote control drones to do the combat and utility roles for him. Any BSP operative seeing that as cowardly quickly learned that this preference wasn't one of self preservation, but rather practicality, as Smith is a true savant in controlling both combat and support drones.
The first to chime into comm's was Morrison with one click for ready. Krussk pinged back under a minute later, with Smith five minutes after that. From here it was up to each squad to exercise in the art of controlling chaos just enough to achieve a desired result. And as soon as that thought cleared Krussk's head, he hit the primer on the rooftop breaching charges for himself while his three compatriots rappel breached the adjoining windows. Across the city rockets were blowing up the exterior to warehouses as sniper bolts were flying in from constantly changing and nearly impossibly far vantage points. Finally a web of robotic eyes and guns flanked by experienced operatives were beginning to close in around a hive of hostiles. It was going to be a long day.
Signed, Dr. Krussk
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Master Buggie
- Staff
- Posts: 1053
- Joined: Sun Sep 03, 2017 7:03 pm
Re: Where Good Dreams Go Bad (BSP)
***Freestanding Subsectors, Poviduze System***
***Keldabe Battleship The Azure Storm***
"And you're certain you want to transfer command to the Crusader and not The Riptide? I could have The Riptide on standby within the hour. An MC-80a Star Cruiser might send a different mes-"
Admiral Brakken turned and glared at the Mon Calamari adjutant for what seemed like the umpteenth time, "No, I want the Crusader. A Victory-class Star Destroyer will send precisely the right message. The Galactic Alliance is too forgiving; the Empire gets what they want, or they blast everyone. You don't expect negotiation with the Empire."
Besides that, Admiral Brakken dared not rope in the Admiral Anak Idris' fleet, or he'd never hear the end of it. The Ithorian admiral had her own problems to deal with, and if she were left without her prized Mon Calamari cruiser, the whole of her fleet might unravel around her. As Brakken boarded his shuttle to fly over to the Crusader, he strode up the ramp and found himself surrounded by a squad of Imperial stormtroopers and Imperial Navy officers.
Or, at least, pirates posing as them.
The stormtroopers, helmets off, sat in the bench seats on either side of Brakken, while the officers were seated in the bucket seats positioned before the benches. These former Imperial men and women had been hand-selected by Brakken, since they knew how to play the part already. There were two key roles that needed filling; one, the Imperial Navy Captain, and two, the Imperial Army Lieutenant. The thirty-six men and women in stormtrooper armor would fulfill the necessary ground presence, though it was hopeful that they wouldn't all be necessary, since all of the sets of armor might not hold up to close scrutiny as if they were the real thing. A smaller group of about a dozen Imperial Navy officers would remain on the bridge, operating the Crusader, or, at least doing the best job they could of acting as if they were flying the warship, since Brakken couldn't find enough former Imperial bridge personnel.
Addressing his group, Brakken began his briefing, "When we get aboard the Crusader, you will be in-character at all times. Bridge team, you'll have someone from the Crusader's standard crew there to assist you if you need it. The real crew will be on the secondary bridge and your console will be deactivated, but you must look as if you have complete command of your station by the time we hit Kafrene. Stormtroopers, your role does not have that luxury. You will be planetside at some point, and I will need you to look the part of an Imperial Stormtrooper. You know all the ingredients; posture, order, discipline. Where is the lieutenant?"
The dark-skinned woman stood.
"Ah, good. Notice the bars on her breastplate. That's your lieutenant. Information will be filtered on the ground from her to each of the four squad leaders," Brakken announced.
After more information had been imparted, the shuttle docked aboard the Crusader, which was preparing to make its jump to lightspeed. It wouldn't be long before the ruse was in play, and Brakken and his team needed to be prepared to pull off the Blue Star Pirates' greatest heist in years.
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Master Buggie
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Re: Where Good Dreams Go Bad (BSP)
***Thand Sector, Kafrene Asteroid Belt***
There was simply nowhere for those who weren't involved in this struggle for dominance to go; few of the inhabitants possessed ships to get off of Kafrene, and those that did were fallen upon daily by hordes of those seeking refuge or a place to escape. It wasn't uncommon in these violent days for a ship captain to be dragged out of their ship, mauled on the floor of their assigned landing pad, and left there dead as a desperate group pushed away from the hellish environment that Kafrene had become.
Stories surfaced of a light freighter that had been stolen by such a group, whose pilot was not anticipating the challenges associated with flying a ship owned by a Mon Calamari. The pilot, more inexperienced than they had advertised, could not properly operate the navigation designed for a sentient whose eyes were located so far apart. This resulted in the light freighter nearly slamming into the main column connecting Kafrene's northern planetoid to its southern planetoid. Fortunately for everyone on Kafrene, the freighter did avoid a collision, and instead, the vessel nosedived directly into a business district that several Blue Star Pirate squads were utilizing for shelter.
Elsewhere, in the markets, the constant stream of foot traffic that was a hallmark of Kafrene had even begun to slow, as it had occurred more than once that a building or stall exploded next to a walkway, obliterating any unaffiliated foot traffic that may have been passing by a that supremely unfortunate moment.
There was a need for order, and it was coming.
Re: Where Good Dreams Go Bad (BSP)
Since the last chronicle of their journey, Jak Bexel and his gang of pirate scum had run afoul of a larger operation, something he was unable to fathom from the drop. The base they demolished on the outskirts of town lit up like a Life Day Tree thanks to the efforts of Ellem and Red Eyes, a Gran with a predilection towards explosions. The information hacked by Ellem proved useful to the outside military forces of the Blue Star Pirates, and she felt satisfied to serve once again.
Jak was able to escape the streets on the green speeder he hijacked from a Gungan, and a horrifically cinematic display erupted inside the travel agency that doubled as a comms hub for the Red Key Raiders. Through a melange of blaster fire and vibro shiv-ery, our Captain threw himself into a task most violent. It was the most life he'd claimed in one night and it made him sick, but he pictured himself strung up and disemboweled with a big red bandanna lodged in his mouth (as was the style of the Raiders). That helped him plenty. Mums, alone for the brunt of the evening, exploded the Beacon atop the adult holovid theater, ending the line of communications with the greater hive of Red Key Raiders. When that was finished he tracked down Bex, who had done most of the work previously mentioned. All they could do was share a scotch over the lives lost to this street war.
The Horn Sisters successfully 'squeezed' all intel out of the lower-level thugs that populated these red streets, utilizing Stretch and Harold's plan to steal a police transport. Their night was marked by ear amputations and the sounds of stupid men begging for their mothers. Stretch never mentioned how disturbing it was to his tiny ears, nor did Harold. For the Horns, it was a workday.
No one got out unscathed, and no one anticipated that this was only the opening salvo. For the next standard month, Team Bexel was stranded with the express purpose of tracking down more moles within the operation. Low on resources, their covers only provided a modicum of security with the local riots. Still, it weighed on them; people were dying, people who had no business being a part of this bloodshed. If the streets were emptying out, how was Jak's plan working? Where were these people going and when were the reinforcements coming?
Jak was able to escape the streets on the green speeder he hijacked from a Gungan, and a horrifically cinematic display erupted inside the travel agency that doubled as a comms hub for the Red Key Raiders. Through a melange of blaster fire and vibro shiv-ery, our Captain threw himself into a task most violent. It was the most life he'd claimed in one night and it made him sick, but he pictured himself strung up and disemboweled with a big red bandanna lodged in his mouth (as was the style of the Raiders). That helped him plenty. Mums, alone for the brunt of the evening, exploded the Beacon atop the adult holovid theater, ending the line of communications with the greater hive of Red Key Raiders. When that was finished he tracked down Bex, who had done most of the work previously mentioned. All they could do was share a scotch over the lives lost to this street war.
The Horn Sisters successfully 'squeezed' all intel out of the lower-level thugs that populated these red streets, utilizing Stretch and Harold's plan to steal a police transport. Their night was marked by ear amputations and the sounds of stupid men begging for their mothers. Stretch never mentioned how disturbing it was to his tiny ears, nor did Harold. For the Horns, it was a workday.
No one got out unscathed, and no one anticipated that this was only the opening salvo. For the next standard month, Team Bexel was stranded with the express purpose of tracking down more moles within the operation. Low on resources, their covers only provided a modicum of security with the local riots. Still, it weighed on them; people were dying, people who had no business being a part of this bloodshed. If the streets were emptying out, how was Jak's plan working? Where were these people going and when were the reinforcements coming?
Blue Star Pirate.
Captain, Nightshade Division. Slicer on weekends.
"It doesn't get much bluer."
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Master Buggie
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Re: Where Good Dreams Go Bad (BSP)
***Thand Sector, Kafrene Asteroid Belt***
***Red Key Raider Safehouse***
The structure of the Ring of Kafrene trading outpost was unique in that it was two cities-- a north city and a south city-- looking down, or up, depending on where you were, at one another. Standing atop one of the grav-locked buildings on the northern city, the Ubese boss of the Kafrene Red Keys looked down at all the destruction the conflict between the Blue Star Pirates and the Red Key Raiders had caused. Even now, he could see orange plumes blossoming up into the air as a small building that was momentarily important to one of the sides of the conflict exploded. Of course, a Blue Star with a keen eye turned directly above could have picked him off at this very moment-- after all he was standing on the highest floor of a structure that stretched into the airspace of the southern city. It would not have been the first time a corpse had been discovered with a smoldering hole through the top of their head.
In this Ubese's mind, though, he was a king of this trading outpost, and kings were untouchable by the common pawn. He had eliminated the Blue Star captain of Kafrene and left him hanging as a display for his followers to witness. The message was clear; the balance of power had shifted in the grimy territories that the Empire and the Alliance saw fit to ignore. Organizations like the Red Key Raiders were gaining a foothold in places like Kafrene, and they demanded due respect.
Soon enough, the Blue Stars would realize that their efforts on Kafrene were in vain and their ships would disappear from orbit around the trading outpost as quickly as they had ever arrived...
"Boss! Look!" an accompanying lieutenant shouted, electrobinoculars pressed firmly against his bulbous eyes.
Striding over to the hairy sentient and ripping away the binocs from his hands, the Ubese pressed the device to his own face and instinctively began to adjust the focus. He almost couldn't believe what he was witnessing.
A smaller variant of the Imperial Star Destroyer line was flanked by support vessels in orbit, and it had begun exchanging long-range blows with the assembled Blue Star Pirate starships. The outcome was already clear; the Imperial forces had gotten the jump on the Blue Star Pirates, and the Blue Star vessels had already begun to scramble into formation in order to retreat. Blue ion cannons pumped into the engines of a Blue Star corvette, sending it drifting away lifelessly, before the Victory-class Star Destroyer turned its attention to the next ship within its considerable range.
Shouts calling attention to the exchange in orbit began to rise up, and celebratory hoots and hollers followed as the Blue Star Pirate starships escaped into hyperspace one after the other, until they were gone. Already the Ubese was calculating how to spin this latest development. If the Empire was here, they would be here to institute order to the trading outpost. The Blue Stars were clearly no friends to the Empire after their role in liberating Coruscant, and the Red Keys, as they were, were too small to have earned the Imperials' ire.
Perhaps, the Ubese thought, Perhaps...