Down the Line [Lords of the Fringe Dominion of Sluis Van]

[Coren Starchaser]

Coren finally got through, was it really that long? He wasn't sure, but he justed wanted to get there and start lending a hand somewhere. He wasn't about to dive into a chase of a captured person and use the Force and muck things up. And by the sounds of it, they could use someone with a bit of quartermastering experience on Sluis Control. At least to jury rig the station for now. Get it working for the interim, and use the Tiburon's sensor suite to help watch for incoming.

And then the other fleet arrived. Coren listened to the call. Abrion Corporate. Awesome...Wasn't that outfit in the family? He thought that was where Marek was based out of. And they were anti-Protectorate? Lovely.

“Roger that, Chief. I'm coming in for a landing, see you soon.”

Time to get this station up and running and keep the Protectorate out.

[member="Jared Ovmar"] [member="Darth Metus"] [member="Irys Arist'lar"]

 

[Ashin Varanin]

The Fringe fleet was on its way; Obsidian Fleet, to be precise. Twenty-eight cloak-equipped Star Destroyers, led by the Chimaera, plus assorted escorts and support craft, all crewed from the best of those remaining, crewers shuffled from the less advanced vessels in the Confederation's navy. Their route was from Annaj to Porchello, thence to Karfeddion, then the rally point half a parsec from Eriadu. They would reach Sluis Van, but perhaps not in time. Iron Crown's experts had been faster, aiming to get the defense grid online before the reaver front arrived; with luck, they could hold out against landing and boarding efforts for long enough that Obsidian Fleet could show up to break the oncoming siege.

 

[Hira Mitsae]

Objective: Sluisnapped
Allies: [member="Reverance"] | [member="Vrag"] | [member="Dûvain"] | [member="November Sinclair"]

Reloaded, the screams filled the air, but Irani ignored them. They were scum, slavers, pirates and perhaps a reaver or two, they deserved no pity. They only deserved to be cleansed from this world, one way or another. The flamethrower did a good enough job for that.

Tank was about to shoot, took aim, but the businessman was there first.

The one needed to turn around, take aim and shoot. The other just needed to reload.

KABLAM

Last tank was gone and the lines broke a moment after.

‘Good work, Vrag.’ Irani replied, switching out guns and walking forward. They needed to make process and do it fast. ‘I haven’t been this hot and bothered in a long time.’

‘Might be the flamethrower though.’

 

[Sal Katarn]

Objective: Sluisnapped
Allies: @Darrell Irani | [member="Vrag"] | [member="November Sinclair"]

The banter of the mortals was terribly disinteresting. It really seemed to be sucking all the fun out of the entire thing. If not for the impending death of the Khedive due to their bumbling buffoonery, Dûvain would have vanished then and there, but sadly the air thrummed with more lives to take, more order to unravel and more history to repeat.

The Arkanian-Anzat hybrid wandered lackadaisically through the ranks of still-burning corpses, looking for a meal.

 

[Irys Arist'lar]

[member="Jared Ovmar"]

"Exceptional. My teams are already reporting that they're getting instructions and are beginning to disembark. We are also here to propose some communication and organisation between our two navies with regards to monitoring Protectorate movements along the border. If the Fringe has moved this far south, it would seem unnecessary to have our recon teams chasing each other's hyperspace signatures around instead of watching Omega," she replied.

A recent survey had shown that people across the Galaxy identified far more strongly with their species, or homeworld that any higher organisation, such as empires, republics or alliances. Unsurprising really, but perhaps useful today. There would be a lot of unemployed and skilled workers on Sluis Van, and she was hoping to do a little recruitment whilst in the region. Well her people were, but those civilians were already en route to Sluis Van.

"I'll send over a data artefact with our proposals, relatively small on the scale of the facilities. We'd be most grateful if you could review them in your own time and begin the negotiation process."

 

[Reverance]

Sluisnapped...
[member="Darell Irani"], [member="Vrag"]

The Star Viper made that awkward sound that ships make when it banks too hard against gravity and the metal cries out in hallow pangs. It's alright old boy, Gabriel patted, as he set the vehicle into hover motion, hanging lazily above the ground. He set the vehicle in a wide birth, giving room for him to depart without having to worry about being fired on by tanks. After all, he had taken out several on his way down in strafing runs. Turn around being fair play and what not, he wasn't too keen on playing by those rules. As the ramp opened wide to reveal the cabin within, he stepped out slowly, brandishing several weapons, including a slug thrower and a shotgun. He was feeling more and more like a hitman and less like the Hand of the Sith. And honestly, it was starting to feel proper and right, a return to the old ways, when it was blood for blood and by the gallons.

Wincing at the blast of the winds, stirred up by the repulsor engines on the back end of the vessel, Gabriel leaped down 10 feet and landed in a roll, as he moved forward towards the bunker. He got the impression that he wasn't going to be saving the day, but he might make it difficult for some of the kidnappers. If not the kidnappers, maybe the henchmen. A row of grenades rested across his chest, on a flack vest, and were just dying to be set loose. And with mood towards obliging, he thumbed one and launched it over a barricade, aiming right for a tank. As it bounced across the ground, it lodged in one of the engines and exploded, sending the vehicle careening away from the blast and Gabriel couldn't help but pump his arm in celebration. "YES!"

He shot one round in it's general direction and kept moving, calling what force he could, to aid in his speed.

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Irys Arist'lar"]

Pacification of the world was already on its way and on schedule. Rebelliins were being put down, hostile would-be war lords neutralized and slowly the planet of Sluis Van was returning back to a more civilized state.

All courtesy of the Fringe Confederation, a higher nation that had come in and protected the planet and its denizens when no one else has been interested or cared for its well being.

If that didn't inspire the beginnings of loyalty, then perhaps the supplies being provided would help it along anyway. The holographic apparition nodded in acknowledgment.

'We will check over the proposal soon.'

As said before, Iron Crown would be probably be receiving the bulk of the processing capacity. But if the offers were right alot of things could be discussed.

 

[Sal Katarn]

The abomination found himself in a situation devoid of intelligencia or macabre mirth, utterly vacuous in rotund repetition of things that had already been and things that had not yet come to pass. An endless circle of boring, like a snake devouring its own tail out of sheer mind-numbing ennui. Sudden wrath gathered at the sheer monotony of these wretched fools and the realization that he, Dûvain, who had inhabited innumerable situations for nigh on three hundred years had inadvertently himself become a part of their cyclical feckless toil.

Eyes of lit charcoal bubbled with hot anger. The monstrous creation of Arkanians who had wielded ingeniousness but lacked sagacity cast up a hand and blasted from it a Bolt of Hatred that swept toward the compound wherein the Khedive was kept. The acrimonious sphere struck solid permacrete as a meteor strikes earth, collapsing a corner of the structure and possibly crushing the occupants it contained.

In an instant, a twinkling, Dûvain was gone, undone by his own hatred gone wrong, cavorted off into space and time to some other not so distant future.

[member="Darell Irani"] | [member="Vrag"] | [member="November Sinclair"]

 

[Vrag]

Objective: Sluisnapped
Allies: [member="Reverance"] | [member="Darell Irani"] | [member="November Sinclair"] | [member="Dûvain"]

_______________________________________________________________________​

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wMRAr_zRbuM&list=PL5FC1B6A3EB99F879​

Between the strafing runs, the hand-canon and the space-magic of the pale dude, neither the tanks nor the bunker really stood a chance. Machine and man alike crumbled under the combined assault of unlikely companions, and those that weren't killed immediately were left screaming in agony, waiting on a death that would not come easily.

Vrag stepped over one such man, his leg blasted off above the knee, and glanced down at him despite herself. He had already screamed himself hoarse, it seemed, and was now reduced to letting out small, shivering sobs while life slowly drained out of him. With each shaky, wheezing breath that rushed past his lips more blood seeped into the earth below, where in one year's time, his demise would beget new life.

How quaint.

She fired two rounds at his chest to silence the pathetic gurgles, then lifted her gaze to meet the Fringer's eyes. Surprisingly, the pants-wetting cannon was in his hands no more, replaced by a far more conventional weapon. Oh, well. It was for the best, really; where they were going, a blast of such power would bury them all.

"Whatever you need to tell yourself, sweetcheeks," she quipped in response as her eyes roamed appreciatively along the curve of his backside. Not that he could see what she was doing — just one more perk to having a darkened visor — but that was definitely an ass she wouldn't mind; after they were finished destroying the bunker, of course. Vrag was, after all, a woman with strict priorities.

In his reckless rage, the white-haired goth in front of them had blown the structure wide open, and while it was regrettable that he'd vanished himself in the process, the Knight didn't much care for what happened to him. He'd granted them an entrance, and they would have to be dumb not to use it. Without further ado, the woman broke into a sprint, her speed aided not by the Force, but by gravity itself as she made a beeline towards the gaping hole in the side of the building.

The Fringe would most likely have to instate their own Khedive after they were done. Oh, well. She'd never claimed diplomatic solutions were her forte.

 

[Ashin Varanin]

Obsidian Fleet exited hyperspace off Sluis Van -- twenty-nine Star Destroyers, including the Chimaera, plus escort craft. Hangars normally fitted with LACs disgorged hundreds of gunships, which swarmed across the system in unassailable groups. That didn't stop the reavers from trying assailishness, but the Malos-class gunship boasted a highly versatile loadout, plenty of it, and enough rear-facing cannons to make reaver starfighters weep.

Reavers weren't the withdrawing type, from everything she knew, but she did her level best to educate them on the virtues of retreat. Perhaps she could have asked the Republic to give them lessons.

 

[Hira Mitsae]

Objective: Sluisnapped
Allies: [member="Reverance"] | [member="Vrag"] | [member="Dûvain"] | [member="November Sinclair"]

Said conventional weapon was a Harbringerhttp://starwarsrp.net/topic/15354-bti-hpbr-the-harbinger/, mighty fine engineering by the brilliant minds of BlasTech Industries. Stopping power was of the chains, could kill a man in one shot, armor or not, but it was big bulky though. Which was exactly how Irani preferred his weaponry, so nothing was really lost with the choice.

Gave the Sith a wink while shooting up the place, slowly they were gaining ground and entered the bunker proper. The guy had done a good job, giving them a way into the facility while also maximizing the chances the Khedive would find himself… expired.

Sweeping in and out of walkways they eventually reached their destination. Its scene would have brought the businessman a smile, if he wasn’t too busy executing the two pirates who had just murdered the man they had came to rescue. It seemed they wanted to make one last portion of vengeance, before getting killed themselves.

Oh well, at least this meant his immediate aide would take charge of the situation right now, which only served Darell anyway.

Excellent.

Irani scratched his chin, before dropping his weapon after putting the safety on, looked over to the Sith.

‘About that cannon.’