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

[Rusthalia Kryze]

​

// 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.

​

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

​

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
​

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

​

Aboard the Endeavour,
Minor Hyperspace Route, GA Space (902 ABY)

'Breaker, ready 2nd Squad. I want them on Storage Bays 3 and 4 firs-'
​

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.

​

'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.'

 

[Daniel Washburne]

Objective: BYOO: Survive
Rusthalia Kryze
Daniel banked listlessly toward the edge of the solar system, taking in the beauty of the distant stars that twinkled beyond the abyss that filled the gap between him and them. His astromech droid, RI-45, beeped as it plugged in the appropriate hyperspace coordinates, a nearby system that the RNDFSC used for training, where he was supposed to meet up with some cadets.The silence was nice. A good break from the rest of the noise of the Galaxy. His N-1 Hummed as it prepared to take off through the void of ftl travel. The stars began to fly by and turn to streaks as the vessel took off.

"R1?" Daniel said inquisitively after six full hours had passed, his tone equal parts answer seeking and annoyance, as he looked pointedly at his nav computer. R1 beeped an affirmation over his headset. "Where are we going?" R1 beeped back and displayed coordinates on the screen, which did not at all match the ones displayed on the ship's nav computer. He cursed and murmered to himself as he began to trouble shoot the connection between the ship and his confused robot. Several hours later Daniel went to sleep, unable to stop either the ship or the robot from it's course. Praying silently that he wouldn't crash into a rock or star. He awoke and the streaks continued. He's slept a full 12 hours, his body exhausted by the travel and work in the tiny cramped machine. When he awoke he stretched the best he could, eating from his ship's survival ration stash beneath his seat. Only five hours left. Daniel spent the next five hours calculating his survival odds and pondering if he'd be found if he didn't make it.

60 seconds. Daniel emptied one of his stimulant vials, extended space travel would create flight fatigue, and that 2as the last thing Dan needed as he ended a random jump. The pilot's heartrate spiked and he controlled his breathing best he could as the stars slowed and he exited to realspace. Any semblance of breathing control was abandoned as the imposing figure of the Blackthorn dominated the top left of his cockpit as he came out of hyperspace in a spin.

His vision narrowed and grew fuzzy as he flipped past a communication array in a flurry of blue green as his ship skimmed the edge of their shields, close enough for him to bewilderedly look into the bridge viewport as he flew over and down across the width of the ship.

Daniel's brain struggled to catch up with the amount of information being thrown at him and he looked oddly at the captured Luxury liner as his starfighter rolled past. "R-1 WHAT DID YOU DO?" The man irrationally screamed at his astromech droid as it beeped annoyedly back at him.

 

[Damien Dooku]

vibes

Damien skulked his way through the crimson corridors of the Endeavor with a single goal in mind- the shuttle bay, the one area of the ship that would give him the best shot of a clean exfil from the situation. A tinge of regret washed over him, the decision to leave his Starfighter back on Nar Shadaa coming back to bite him in the ass were the shuttles in the bay not up to the task.

He shoved that thought to the side as he pressed against the corner of a wall, biding his time whilst a chorus of screams, blaster fire and broken basic commanded orders out to hostages and pirate alike. Combined with the comms he was getting from what was left of the crew's defenders, it appeared that their assailants weren't sure if they were there to just kill everyone they could find or focus on looting.

Either way the disorganization would prove beneficial to him; the host of hostiles to the left of the corridor were leading hostages away, giving him the opportunity to slink on towards the adjoining section of the ship. <"We're get- zzzz Reports-- zz Starfighter-- zzz -- Transponder friendly!"> His ear buzzed with something more interesting this time around. Though in fragments, he could piece together enough of it to understand.

Damien stepped up his pace down the hall, his boots rapping against the metal tiles a bit too hard for his liking, but haste was necessary with as quick as things were progressing. He stopped once he reached a door to his right, quickly sliding in a stolen access card that hissed the hydraulics to life. Entering in at once, he reversed the door closed before shifting on his heel to make way to the communications terminal behind him.

"What the--" A Devaronian jumped out of the chair seated in front of the terminal, his hands fumbling down the rags he was in for some kind of weapon. Damien gave the man no chance to get the drop of him, soaring across from the tiles with a vibroknife in hand. The weapon buzzed to life just as Damien came at him low, swiping the blade across the length of one leg in an instant. The pirate collapsed on his good leg with an agonizing yelp, only to find Damien's hand covering its mouth, and his blade jammed, neatly between the plate of bone covering his heart.

It only took a moment before any trace of life faded from the Pirate's eyes, only for his body to be tossed to the side so Damien could replace him in the chair. He activated the terminal, taking control of various sensors in order to get a view on the situation outside. A deep sigh escaped through his lips once he'd achieved a good enough analysis of their plight.

"...Think it's safe to say we're well and truly screwed."

He gritted his teeth, refocusing his vision back towards the screens with a bit more focus upon the third party who'd entered the scene. Damien opened an encrypted link using the codes at his disposal, then routed the link to bypass the terminal and feed straight into his commbead instead.

"Whoever's piloting that rust-bucket, your transponder's on, so i'm guessing you're neutral at worse, but probably not a pirate." Damien called out, assuming the starfighter accepted the link. "Either way-- you're a sight for sore eyes, if either of us make it outta' here in one piece." He paused long enough for an initial response to feed through, having exited the room and proceeded back into the ship's corridors. "This is Damien-- uh, Damien Tavlar. Currently doing my best to make my way to the shuttle bay, but there's a whole load of pirates between me and there. To make things worse-- bay doors are on emergency lock--"

The pilot would hear Damien by interrupted by unintelligible people yelling in the background, and the sound of gunfire erupted off into their ear. "Right, well, currently running for my life from those aforementioned pirates! Endeavor's shields are down-- I'll owe you a stack of credits if you'll do me a solid and slag the shuttle bay's doors for me!"

-
OBJIII - Heading towards the shuttle bay to escape the vessel
Daniel Washburne Thomas Barran Csariden Rusthalia Kryze​

 

[Flint Grayson]

OBJ III | Defend The Ship

Gear: Rifle, Pistol, Watch

Rusthalia Kryze | Thomas Barran | Damien Dooku | Csariden | Daniel Washburne
​

Reassignment.

That is the only reason Flint was here. The Endeavour was on its way back to Alliance space, the place where his next mission was taking place. His entire operation was previously focused on studying The Blackwall. Learn as much as he could about the hyperspace barrier and how it could possibly be infiltrated. It was only a few weeks before they started shipping Jedi out into the system, deciding that they would be better suited for uncovering the secrets of the Sith than an SIA agent. Because years of undercover training and espionage meant nothing when a Padawan was called in.

So, his operation was now tasked with learning more about the Black Sun. The criminal organization was supposedly closing in fast on their stars, and that was something the senate did not like. Finding out any information they can meant the safety and security of those neighboring Alliance planets. Crime was bound to happen, no matter where you went in the galaxy. Flint learned that very quickly on Denon. But managing it to the best of their ability was a way to ensure the group would not grow out of hand.

Yet instead of spending this voyage through the stars catching up on notable profiles of the syndicate, he was now interrupted with a sudden lurch. One that was all too familiar to the man.

"No kriffing way..."

It was only a matter of moments before the sound of blaster fire could be heard throughout the hallway, accompanied by various screams of panic and fear. Rushing to the corner of his room, Flint located his service rifle. Setting the weapon to stun, it was only seconds after that a Mandalorian came bursting into the room. Before the warrior even had time to lift his pistol, the agent fired two shots directly to the helmet, sending the invader falling to the ground with a thud.

After waiting a few more seconds to ensure there would not be another wave, the man crouched his way over to the door. Sparks fizzled out from the control panels of all the rooms. Red safety lights illuminated the hallway, doing more harm than good. If Flint wanted any chance of him and the crew making it out of this, he needed to find the communications relay. More than likely in the command center. But he knew there had to be a backup relay somewhere. It was only a matter of time before he would find it...or be found by another pirate.

 

[Thomas Barran]

TAGS
Damien Dooku Daniel Washburne Csariden Rusthalia Kryze Flint Grayson

OBJECTIVE II
BLOODHOUND - PART 3

​

Aboard the Endeavour,
Minor Hyperspace Route, GA Space (902 ABY)

'Oh.... An' the picture becomes all the clearer.'
​

As the one-eyed Woad threw his head back to howl with excited mirth, the laughter continued long enough to persist through the process of pulling his mask over the face, pulling a veil of malice over the face of raucous laughter. Letting his voice ring out, cackling through the openings to three potential hallways, the Great Khan of the Maw, in an indulgence of wild abandon, had just heralded his own arrival for all to hear and sense for themselves.

'ATH-BREIIIIITH!!!!'

Barran would then unleash an otherworldly roar, planting his feet on a walkway he could see was already covered in corporeal blood, thus was given ample cause to call on the power of his Great-Sword; duly unsheathing the Promise, and with a surging emanation of Force Lightning, his sudden vigilance was rewarded in clear readiness for the threats he would face along the way. The Khan had already sensed that a noticably-high number of external factors had gotten aboard so far, sensing before landing that a few among them were extremely powerful, and in the hearts of that elite few, a bloody penchant for darker goals resided.

Potential for recruitment, potential for peerage - with an abundance in aptitude spattered on the walls.

Looking to the bodies lying strewn across the adjoining access-hallway so far, the sheer amount of those who had suffered the same wounding-patterns seemed take the chief-most investigative precedence, making the ratio of losses appear to matter little and less to the final result. Death would take them where their souls were needed to go, War had already played her part, and quite masterly at that, all that remained was all that Rebirth had in mind for the next life. But something else was at work here, a purpose adjacent to that which guided the Khan's incursion into GA territory that day, Wills with desires and purposes of their own, and one in particular already carried an aroma the Bloodhound recognised in particular.

'Interesting.... Very interesting.'

 

[Daniel Washburne]

Daniel's spin was interrupted by Damien Dooku 's signal coming through on his radio. Between bouts of gunfire the pilot could barely make out a few things. The ship he'd skimmed past and was currently still in a tight orbit of as he turned about towards the towed Endeavour, was populated by pirates. They hadn't quite taken the ship yet, and whoever was yelling over the radio really wanted him to blow open the shuttle bay doors, which the pirates had of course hardlocked during the first moments of their assault. Daniel straightened his N-1 squarely towards the luxury liner with a flick and opened up the throttle on both engines, sending him flying towards the lower decks of the trapped ship with blinding speed. He keyed back at the caller. "Roger that, heat incoming, stand by."

Nobody would have to ask him twice to bomb a luxury liner in a way where he wouldn't even get in trouble for it.

Dan didn't even need a targeting computer to find his mark, the large doors as obvious as a sign to anyone that had frequented such ships. During his years as an enforcer for his boss on Ryloth, he had been on a few, and it was part of his job to know how to get his employer to an exit.

He aimed for the gigantic doors and let loose a flurry of green plasma and two of his ten proton torpedoes, aiming at where they slid together in the middle, the interlocking system tended to be weaker than solid durasteel. They slammed into their target as the N-1 flew past the Endeavor.

Thomas Barran Flint Grayson Rusthalia Kryze Csariden

 

[Damien Dooku]

vibes

<""Roger that, heat incoming, stand by.">

BOOM

The Endeavor convulsed from the impact of proton torpedoes and plasma blowing the shuttle doors wide open. The ship's klaxons sounded off once more, the vessel leaning at a tilt from the initial shockwave of the impact spreading through the vessel's hull.

<"That fighter just blew-- zzzz Reporting shuttle one lost! zzz damage assessment neg ---"> Damien gritted his teeth, the latest report coming from the bridge not being the best of news to hear for someone trying to escape on those very same shuttles. He took solace in there being two, at least there were the last time he checked. If one of them were down, hopefully that meant the second shuttle was still up and running.

But there was no time to mull over the finer details as another stream of blaster bolts scorched the durasteel around him, forcing the rogue out of his position and once more on a fighting retreat towards his objective. The force tugged at him with more intensity with each passing minute since the attack. He could feel the presence of the dark permeating through the air, and it wasn't just from the unprovoked cruelty and violence happening throughout the vessel. So far he'd managed to avoid whatever, or whoever it was coming from, but he made sure to focus on masking his presence in the force to as close as an ant that his abilities allowed.

More bodies joined the pursuit of Damien by that time, replacing their fallen comrades where they occasionally fell from the rogue's deadly return fire in their direction. He'd gone through several of his pistol's charger packs by then, and he was running dangerously low by the time he traced his hand along his utility belt. "Let's spice things up a bit!" He called out, swinging around on his heel with his blaster aimed down range once more.

He charged the pistol to its highest intensity, then let out a powerful shot aimed at a wall panel off to the group's left. A thunderous cascade of sparks and shrapnel erupted as he ignited the power supply beneath, stunning at the minimum those who weren't made ineffective by the explosion or shrapnel. Damien expended the empty charger pack, dropping it to the ground before reloading his second to last pack. He'd earned himself a good headstart with that last move, and he was clearly wasting no time in waiting around for anyone else to show up.


-
OBJIII - Heading towards the shuttle bay to escape the vessel
Rusthalia Kryze Thomas Barran Csariden Daniel Washburne
​

 

[Thomas Barran]

TAGS
Damien Dooku Daniel Washburne Csariden Rusthalia Kryze Flint Grayson

OBJECTIVE II
BLOODHOUND - PART 4

​

Aboard the Endeavour,
Minor Hyperspace Route, GA Space (902 ABY)

THUD THUD THUD THUD

<"The feth was that, Ghoul?">
<"Nuthin' to do with us, Great Khan.... Can't be good though.">
​

Continuing his leisurely stroll down the hallway of Storage Bays 3 and 4, opening shuttered units one by one as the comm-link chatter was sent back and forth, the search would be lazily endeavoured for as long as the grumblings persisted between the Bloodhound and his youngest Darkhan, stopping only as the realisation set in with lasting finality. It was in the moment that Barran subconsciously dropped his sword to a low-set Fool's Guard, growling,'Figures!', as he prepared to give his subordinates the news of the sudden changes to their odds of success.

<"Ghoul, its quite obvious the liner jus' got strafed. You need t'prepare for another salvo, so lock down inside the safety of the ships for now.">
<"Works for me, Great Khan. I have some ideas to that effect.... Ghoul out!">
​

'You had fethin' better, Preach-wait a minute!'

​

The Great Khan, for all his effort to sweep his gaze left and right, had been forced to double back a few paces in a sudden realisation; in lazily using the Force to tear the units' shutters from their grounding shackles, and in a distraction of comm-link chatter to make it worse, Barran had quickly realised that one of those on the left had been caught in his periphery. The lapse of comprehension had been enough to keep walking by, but only by a few paces or so, and by coincidence it had been one of the last few shutters he would need to pull upward, making his mistake easier to rectify in quick order.

<"Breaker, I need you t'listen up while Ghoul's busy.">
<"Ready.">
<"If the chosen starfighters are facing the docking bay doors, stand ready at the offramp of the one nearest to me. I've found everything we could possibly need here, an' its all nice an' compact.">
​

packaged and stacked within (and atop-) a hovercart were multiple locked cases, designed as such to protect and transport large sums of credits, though the locking-mechanisms would have been enough of a giveaway on their own, enough that even the uninitiated could guess these locks were protecting something important. A find of extreme importance, this the Khan could not deny, though it would no be for the lack of trying; to avoid such an auspice was tantamount to an ignorance of destiny, a blessing from the Avatars at the most-unexpected moment, prompting Barran to act in his, and his tribal collective's best interests.

<"Thats a solid copy on this end, Great Khan. I'll personally stand by at the switch for that one. Breaker - out!">

 

[Rusthalia Kryze]

The tactical readouts displayed good progress on their primary mission. Mandalorian squads roamed the Endeavour's corridors in search for the remaining high profile targets. There was resistance, more than was expected, yes, but well within acceptable parameters.

At least until a fighter pilot decided to play the hero in an attempt to create an escape for the poor souls trapped on the ship.

"Have Xesh-squadron pursue that pilot," Rusthalia ordered.

Without a military escort, there hadn't been any urgency to risk the fighters against any ship cannons. They'd remained on standby, however, for exactly the type of occasion where a rogue fighter pilot thought to meddle in the affairs of his betters.

"Destroy the fighter, and put Auresh-Squadron on standby in case any ship attempts to launch from that hangar. None are to escape this system alive," her orders were final.

Moments later, the squadron of three Fang-class fighters launched from her ship's hangars in pursuit of Daniel Washburne .

Which left the reports of a determined passenger making his way toward the shuttle bay to be dealt with. That one would need a more precise touch.

"Hesin, we have passengers attempting to reclaim the shuttle bay. Deal with them," Admiral Kryze spoke into the comms station.

# # #
​

"By your will, Admiral," came the response of Hesin Ward, the Admiral's executioner and her second-in-command.

Hesin stood at the edge of the Blackthorn's hangar bay, blue hangar shields separating him from the endless void beyond. He could see the ship, perforated with boarding pods and claw-craft, struggling against the overwhelming might of the pirates. It seemed futile to him. The soft, weak beings produced by luxury stood no chance against hardened Mandalorian steel, to speak nothing of the joke of a guard force they employed. And now that incident in the shuttle bay required his personal attention.

He gave the seals on his armour a last once-over, ensuring his squad did the same. They were in order. His suit was vacuum-worthy, protected with internal environment regulation. He gave his squad a brief nod, and then stepped out, through the hangar shield, and into the void of space.

The silence struck him immediately. His own heartbeat and breathing amplified by the lack of any background noise. He engaged his jetpack, crossing the distance to the other ship in a few moments. His squad followed close behind. They stuck close to the hull, working their way along the outside until they reached the ship bays, easily located by the plumes of smoke billowing out into space.

<Set your weapons to stun. The Admiral wants no disintegrations.>

A moment later, he and his squad moved inside the hangar bay carried by their jetpacks, and began to strike the hold-out defenders like lightning from above.

Damien Dooku Csariden Thomas Barran

 

[Thomas Barran]

TAGS
Damien Dooku Daniel Washburne Csariden Rusthalia Kryze Flint Grayson

OBJECTIVE II
BLOODHOUND - PART 5

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Aboard the Endeavour,
Minor Hyperspace Route, GA Space (902 ABY)

They hide, but not well enough.
Pointless.... I'm only here for the plunder.
​

Having sent the hover-crate on an automated journey to Docking Bay 4, the main content of his plunder would embark on a quickened journey from A to B via the express-chutes, designed almost-purely for droid traffic; even for droids of heavier load-bearing capacity, the hoverbelts were designed to simulate gravitational buoyancy at every level of carrying-proportion, leaving the Khan with just a large zip-down bag to carry back to the ships. A welcome development for a warrior with naked Beskar in play at the time, still firmly in the grip of Barran's right hand whilst the left carried his bag of loot with the left, ready to drop for a two-handed grip at a moment's notice.

Yet there was a lingering suspicion that Thomas would not even need to drop his,"Bag of Buy-In Credits.", in the end.

Even going so far as to look up to the nearest surveillance cam, fully aware that someone on the other end had been watching him since he walked in from the other side of the connecting hallway, the Bloodhound unabashedly looked into the lens and inquired,'Honestly, though. Am I - really that bad?', only to trail off in a fit of howling, cackling mirth. Seeing nothing else for it but to wave off the camera and walk away, the one-eyed Woad willingly left the embattled security-detail to their plight, losing interest with every pace that stepped closer to the ships

'I think I'm gonna like the Core, even if only for a time'

<"Bloodhound to Ghoul! Ready the ships for departure.">
<"You just about ready to move, Great Khan?">
<"Already inbound.... Bloodhound - out!">

 

[Damien Dooku]

vibes

The battle to reach the shuttle bay had been shortened a bit by a few well-timed grenades being dribbled down, collapsing one route for his assailants to reach him while he continued onwards without stop. The seconds felt like minutes, his lungs burning for a spare second of inactivity to ease the fire simmering in his chest. It felt as if he'd run the entire length of the ship by the time he'd reached the shuttle bay doors, and lo and behold as they opened, his situation proved just as dire as it'd been the whole trip through.

Blaster fire converged upon scattered groups of pirates and defenders, their battle lines unclear as the shuttle bay's many entrances gathered further reinforcements from both sides to the fray. It was a focal point of whoever was left to defend the husk of a ship that remained, and through the chaos atleast one of them had a plan to exfiltrate his way out of the ship and preferably quickly into hyperspace shortly thereafter. A bolt ricocheted off the side of the doors, triggering Damien's body to once again start moving. Damien bee-lined towards the one remaining shuttle, jumping off the ledge that separated the doors from the flooring where the ships once were stored.

He rolled across the ground purposefully, the flash of red whistling around him as he lunged to his feet through a subtle application of the force. It carried him a healthy number of yards in the direction he needed to go, his body once more coming to a spin mid-air in his efforts to give neither side a clear shot at the interloper. Damien whipped his pistol out of its holster before he hit the ground, charging up his last charger pack into yet another powerful shot, then aimed it at the canisters next to the large concentration of pirates he could see.

The shuttle bay lit up with bright orange hues as the reactive material inside was set ablaze in an explosion that claimed enough pirates lives and attention to give him those extra seconds he needed to dart towards the extended ramp leading into the shuttle. He sprinted with wide steps until the interior of the shuttle bay was no longer in sight, his hand smashing the wall panel and triggering the ramp's ascent back into the hull of the shuttle. The doors closed, and he took a deep breath, holstering his pistol to his hip and tuning out the returning crescendo of blaster fire from outside.

That is until the familiar sound of a weapon being primed would draw the most subtle lifting of his head, his hand twitching as he considered going for his now-spent weapon attached to his hip.

Damien slowly raised his hands above his head, his gaze narrowed in deep thought from the numerous calculations of events that ran through his mind. It was engulfed in a battle of wills; did he attempt a move now? Or wait for a better opportunity? There was no guarantee that an opportunity would follow in the future, especially if the pirate had decided to just level a bolt right into his back. The armorweave of his jacket might block the first shot, but he wasn't sure if he'd take that risk at such a snubnose range.

Slowly he began to shift around until Damien's narrowed gaze settled upon the man holding him at gunpoint. The force flowed through him within the split blink of an eye, Damien's lithe form erupting towards the right side of the shuttle, just as the first bolt slammed into the back of the shuttle behind him. He kicked off the wall, his lower half twisting into a spinning kick that nearly slammed into the pirate's head, were it not for the sheathed sword in his other hand blocking his foot mid-descent.

Damien gritted his teeth, recovering quickly with a thunderous knee that too was blocked, much to his dismay. The end of that sheathed sword punched into Damien's gut, knocking the wind clear from his lungs. Another blow followed suit, bloodying his lip, but Damien refused to back down despite recognizing this man's skill-at-arms. A flurry of strikes hammered against the pirate's guard, the two exchanging a multitude of strikes until finally a vibroknife entered Damien's hand. The fight took a deadlier turn as Damien was clearly striking with the intention to kill the man outright; his strikes grazed sensitive areas, just shy of cutting deep into those areas that he sought to carve out.

With that being said, a close-knit fight against a man with a sword was not all that easy when all you had was a knife and a bit of the force. Despite his best efforts, he'd met his match after their duel had carried on for a good minute and a half at most. The pirate simply parried the last tired blow coming from Damien, then delivered a pommel strike right to the rogue's temple, knocking him out to the floor. Damien grumbled, his vision blurred, his thoughts a barely coherent mess that had chosen to be defiant for the sake of it. He even attempted to get up, but his efforts proved futile as a stun bolt knocked him in the chest, sending his head pummeling back into the durasteel panels beneath it.

And then the world went black for Damien, with not even a dream or a nightmare to be had, though deep down within the confines of his mind, Damien knew that he'd messed up; He'd been captured, but the cold darkness that enveloped him provided no room for planning beyond the most basic emotions made manifest.

-
OBJIII - captured by the pirates.
Rusthalia Kryze Thomas Barran
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