Public Braindrain & Unlawful Gain | Pirate Raid, ATTN: Underworld, Pirates, GA

[Rusthalia Kryze]

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// TL;DR & OOC: A group of pirates (any and all are welcome!), led by a Mandalorian Warlord, are raiding a luxury liner in the Middle of Nowhere, GA space. Pirates are lootin' and doing their thing, Mandos are primarily after specific civilians. The goal here is fun small scale, close-quarters, corridor-to-corridor fighting all over the luxury liner, but if you have additional ideas feel free to hit me up. Assume the liner is pretty big, roughly frigate size.

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Galactic Alliance Space​

Minor Hyperspace Route: Outer Rim -> Alderaan​

Luxury Liner Endeavour​

Professor Jolt Jemerk of the Mrlsst Trade and Science Academy relaxed into the gel-foam mattress in his private cabin. He kept his hands folded behind his head and let the tyrian shimmersilk covers envelop him. He imagined this was what sinking into a cooled, semi-solid, gaseous cloud felt like.

He'd noted with some delight upon boarding that he would have a cabin all to himself during the transit. The University of Alderaan had arranged for the professor and many of his colleagues from across the galaxy to come to their planet for a research exchange. The event had plenty of unnecessary academic jargon surrounding it, but it boiled down to an excuse to compare notes between the many solid-state physics departments while on a full-week vacation trip.

His salary as a professor at Mrlsst University, leading in the field of applied sciences, was by no means small. However, indulging in a week long vacation to Alderaan on his own credits would have been ruinous. The Core didn't come cheap. He had every intention of enjoying this week to the fullest.

Deeply lost in his own musings, professor Jemerk reached for a glass of the complimentary merenzane gold. He took a sip of the bubbling drink, enjoying the tingling on his tongue. That moment, their luxury liner suddenly lurched. With a yelp he fell from the bed, hitting his head on the nightstand. Everything went black, and he fell unconscious.

When he came to again, a tall armored figure with a distinctive T-shape visor looked down at him from the doorway to his cabin. Even through the daze of a terrible headache and seeing everything in triplicate, he recognized that armor.

Mandalorians.

---

Admiral Rusthalia Kryze watched the holo-feed of the boarding action from her command deck aboard the Blackthorn. Her warship had an easy time tracking down the luxury liner, and an easier time still to lock it down. A salvo of ion cannon fire had taken care of its minimal shields and engines. A tractor beam had held it in place and pulled it close enough to secure with clamps. At that point, all it had taken was the deployment of the boarding hooks -- specialized walkways that pierced the luxury liner's hull and allowed the Admiral's troops to gain access into the ship.

Now all she needed to do was coordinate the boarding parties, and take what was hers.

OBJECTIVE I: Take the Ship
The forward section of the ship houses the actual passenger & crew cabins, recreational deck, and, perhaps most alluringly, the bridge. This is the section to shake down passengers, take hostages, or attempt to take control of the ship. We're not looking for a massacre here, just to scare the passengers.

OBJECTIVE II: Fill Your Coffers
The luxury liner Endeavour which the pirates are boarding has a storage deck in its aft section full of luxury trade goods, credits, and the personal belongings of some of the galaxy's C- and B-list elites. They're guarded by the ship's crew, making them hard to get to, but are well worth the struggle. More tech-savvy attackers can find the engine compartment and armory here as well.

OBJECTIVE III: BYOO
Or perhaps there's something more on the ship we are yet to discover? Bring your own mayhem and make it fun.

 

[Thomas Barran]

TAGS
OPEN

OBJECTIVE II
BLOODHOUND - PART 1

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Aboard the MV: Heart of Mar'Zambul,
Minor Hyperspace Route, GA Space (902 ABY)

'So whats the deal here, Great Khan?'
​

Approaching a rather-ostentatious, and already-embattled luxury liner, roughly three Doomsayer fighters waited patiently for the cargo holds to open, making use of the opening for other smaller ships of the sort. They were wise to board less-aggressively than those designed for the purpose, especially if the Khanate strikeforce aimed to make the long trip back to Durace, effectively escaping with money enough to finance their army's new roving artillery array, but there was always more to the story. With Bloodhound Khan considered, there was always more to their actions than their leader seemed to state, though this time, necessity would dictate the need for transparency.

'Well, firstly, we need the credits, an' you know we need them so we can exceed our ordnance requirements. An' secondly, I want the new Marauders to improve upon the capabilities of their forebears.... The speed of your movements, of attack and escape alike.'

It was then that the boarding vessels crashed into Endeavour's hull, creating little shockwaves on impact, and before long, they were opening the cargo bays for more pirates. The excitement was palpable, and with more than enough protection-details still holding their corridors within, not even the one-eyed Woad could keep from smiling beneath the mask of the Golden Skull, finding the acclaim and celebratory clamour nigh on impossible to resist by then. The madness of conventional and spiritual warfare had very-nearly sapped the joy of the raid, the life-affirming danger of marauder of which forged many of the movement's strongest warriors, but when Barran finally drawled,'Aw'right then, Ghoul. Move 'em in... Be sure t'find yer parking spots, afore the competition block your entry.', he knew it would not be long before he could allow for exhuberence.

'By your Will, Great Khan.... Enjoy the droid-cam footage.'

'THE HEATHEN SAINT HAS SPOKEN!!!! PREPARE FOR COMBAT!!!!'

 

[Damien Dooku]

vibes

The Endeavor lurched to the side as something impacted against the vessel's hull. Systems across the ship flickered intermittently before returning to power, or back-up systems picked up where the main ones could not. A familiar red glow lined the corridor around him as emergency klaxons winded to life in a blaring display that signaled nothing but trouble was headed the Endeavor's way.

Crew and passengers alike scrambled for stations and safety, meanwhile the commbead he'd swiped off the crew provided him with a clear picture to match-up with what he'd experienced so far. "Well shit." Damien picked up his pace down the corridor, headed straight for the small cabin he'd been assigned for the voyage.

His presence on the Endeavor had been nothing more than a lucky fluke, all things considered. A handful of Marshalls from the Alliance had picked up on his scent in the Mid-Rim, leading to a brief escape back to the Outer Rim before his boss had routed him onto the Endeavor's list of passengers. While officially he was supposed to be some random archeologist, unofficially he was there as a means to an end; Alderaan was his true destination, after all, until this third party decided to muck things up.

Luckily for him, Damien made it to his room before the boarders had seized full control of the passenger's quarters. He scrambled into his belongings, holstering his pistol back on his hip first, then grabbing the myriad of gadgets and weapons he kept on his person. After tossing his satchel over his shoulder, Damien pivoted on his foot and skipped towards the door.

The hydraulics hissed the door open before he could even touch the panel. Wide-eyed and frozen in place, he stared face-to-face with one of the boarders. It was a Mandalorian in the half-plate equivalent of their armor, a pistol was pointed at hip-level towards Damien as the spacer took several steps back with his hands up in the air.

"C'mon now dude, how about we be civil." His lips curled together, though the Mandalorian wasn't in the mood for idle conversation, instead beckoning him towards the door. Damien would comply, slow and deliberate steps drawing him forwards. The interaction appeared to be going rather smooth for the Pirate, atleast up until Damien reached for the doorframe and latched on, twisting his frame until he could drive his knee upwards into the Mando's exposed wrist.

He would never suggest slugging it out with a Mandalorian, but this one wasn't rocking the full set at the least. Damien pushed himself off the door frame and threw his weight into the Mandalorian knees-first, driving down into the exposed abdomen with the momentum and surprise on his side. He scooped up the Mandalorian's pistol before the struggle could devolve, set the weapon to stun and fired it point-blank. The struggle ended immediately, and he wasted no time dragging the unconscious Mandalorian into his room.

A second shot to the door panel as he left ensured the door would remain jarred shut, leaving him enough of a window to make his way into the mess of halls and corridors, intent on finding his way to the shuttle bay to hopefully make a clean escape.

-

OBJIII - Heading towards the shuttle bay to escape the vessel
Rusthalia Kryze​

 

[Csariden]

❖ CSARIDEN ❖
Rebuilt For Revenge.

Objective III - BYOO
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The Endeavour’s corridor lighting shuddered once—then plunged into crimson lockdown. A scream followed. Fear and pain. It was confusion. Confusion from a pirate who had fought Jedi, outrun corvettes, and walked with warlords.

Now he was watching his own arm fall to the floor—cleanly severed at the elbow, the nerves cauterized mid-slice.
Another Revenant moved like a phantom down the wall, twin energized vibroclaws gleaming. No battle cry. No posturing. Just precision and the soft whisper of breath filtering through a rebreather. Two more pirates fell before they could raise their scatterguns.

From the end of the corridor, he stepped forward.

Metal feet tapped against durasteel. Slow. Measured. A Chiss—half-man, half-machine, wrapped in shadow, crowned in vengeance.

"Peons of the Maw, conveniently in the open."

The pirate captain turned. “We—left that madness behind!”

"What you left behind were shards of a planet, a people. History has a way of catching up to people like you."

The blade shrieked as it unfolded from Csariden’s arm, monomolecular edge gleaming like frostbite. In a blink, he closed the distance—drove the weapon through the man’s gut and lifted him clean from the floor.

The captain choked, legs kicking.

You cannot hide this corpse of an ideology. Let me bury it.

With a wrench and a twist, the Chiss flung the body down the hall, letting it crash into the decorative plasteel sculpture of an Alderaanian moon cycle. A moment later, it collapsed under the body’s weight with a soft ding.

The surviving pirates scrambled backward.

One reached for his comm. Another grabbed a hostage. Both were cleaved cleanly in a visceral slash – hostage included.

The Revenants fell upon them like wolves in a soundless storm—motion and massacre blending into one seamless blur.
Twelve seconds. That was all it took.

Crimson lights strobed across Csariden’s face as he stood alone now, amid blood, steel, and the twitching Revenants of the past advance.

"Revenants. Corridor clear. Burn the bodies and push towards their boarding shuttles."

Let the Mandalorians loot the wreck. We're here to make corpses.

@Open​

 

[Thomas Barran]

TAGS
OPEN

OBJECTIVE II
BLOODHOUND - PART 2

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Aboard the MV: Heart of Mar'Zambul,
Minor Hyperspace Route, GA Space (902 ABY)

'Breaker, ready 2nd Squad. I want them on Storage Bays 3 and 4 firs-'
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All three squads had landed without challenge from external attackers, proceeding from there to fortify their position, just in case any unaffiliated peers decided to lust after someone else's plunder, one could never be too careful after all. Some elements of the Swarm still remained, and some traitors to the cause likely had common-ground with many of the worst that aspired to the ways of Marauders, still very-much holding a presence within the Bloodhound's recall when he finally decided to join the others; the one-eyed Woad was in no mood for the schemes of apostates that night, and in the decision to refrain from playing the games of rival gangs and tribes, it took just a short while to accept there would be other times to test his most-promising aspirants.

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'All units will hold ground here, there's something treacherous about all o' this - an' now I'm here.... I can smell it, damn-near taste it.'

Whilst he was pulling the Mask of the Golden Skull over his face, the Khan then applied a quick-pulsing scan of the vessel using Force Sense, sensing for power as much as death as he marched on to the doors that led to the Storage Bays. Barran had every intention of continuing further, but chose to further-elaborate for the sake of his newly-formed strikeforce, turning back to his subordinates to continue,'A lot o' folks are dropping here, an' for excursions of the sort, death usually indicates a loss of control over captives. An' the stench it carries.... Well, it reeks worse than a setup, so it does.', imparting his need for supreme vigilance for as long as they were separated.

'Considering the trials that await me, it stands to reason that your positions should be more-defensible. It would serve you well to fix that before I return.'

​

The one-eyed Woad would be the one to look around the Storage Bays this time, though he was hoping to get the chance to find something worth warranting his Marauders' presence, keeping such an option only for extra hands to carry a larger hoard of plunder, compartmentalising their need for vital experience for another, latter excursion in enemy territory. The Promise would remain in her scabbard in the beginning, and yet, in the moment the double-doors slid open, Barran would find his left thumb dancing back-and-forth at the hilt as he stepped into the corridor of Storage Bays 3 and 4.

'On the one outing that doesn't require me to slaughter.... Un-fething-believable.'