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Lost in Space... (Dranok Lussk)

Flint Dexen

Wandering Lost Soul
Writer
@[member="Dranok Lussk"]

coruscant-1.jpg

As the spaceship that Flint was on exited hyperspace, Flint Dexen recounted to himself the events that had led him up to this.

When Flint Dexen woke up this morning in the depths of the Galactic City, he did not have the slightest plan to get out of Coruscant. The only thing he had planned for the day was to track down some local street gang members that had been terrorizing the citizens of the Lower Levels of Coruscant recently. Flint had not anticipated for his mission to go as long as it did.

Thirteen hours. That was the time it took for him to track down and defeat just a little over half a dozen of his targeted gangsters and pirates for the day. His thirteenth gangster, however, turned out to have had plans to escape the planet that day. That particular criminal, as it turned out, had a electrostaff with him, and so did Flint himself. So the two had quite an electrostaff duel, their fight ensuing to onboard his opponent's ship.

By the time that Flint had subdued the pirate (he had basically taken him out by tazing him, Flint refused to kill under any circumstances), the ship had reached the atmosphere of Coruscant. As he found out a little too late, the ship that he was onboard was immiediately noted by the Coruscant Law Enforcement as belonging to a criminal gang, and the last thing he knew, Flint had about three police shuttles hot on his tail.

So if Flint had been any other person, he would've landed his ship calmly and would've explained everything. However, he was Flint Dexen, and the last he really wanted to do was have to deal with the local police. So in the end, Flint eluded the law enforcement by taking advantage of the ship's luckily very modern and advanced hyperdrive.

He had rarely flown outside of the planet before, and it would've come as a suprise to anyone that knew Flint that he had managed to fly the ship at lightspeed for five whole minutes without getting vaporized into space dust. When he exited hyperspace, however, he almost quite literally ran into a problem: he found himself only a short distance away from a frighteningly large cruiser.

Cursing under his breath, Flint got ready to take evasive action. He knew from past experiences that his day at that point was about to get pretty eventful.
 

Judas of Vahl

Beyond Broken
Character
Pristine, orderly, professional. It was the way a vessel of the Fringe was ran. The Lords' location of choice didn't favor too well when it came to the concept of maintaining professional militaries, yet the Lords managed to not only create order but spread it. They received an overwhelming input of raw manpower from the Jedi, Sith, renegades, mercenaries, and even multitudes of average citizens. The output was what Lord Admiral Dranok Lussk oversaw at the Rattatak Military Academy. The Sith Master transformed weak and untrained cadets into disciplined, orderly, and more than capable legionnaires, crewmen, and officers for the Fringe's military.

That very man walked the bridge of the Fringe's strongest vessel, the Astral Horizon, a Chrysalide-class Battlecruiser. The Horizon was the first and last of its kind, the very extinction of such a powerful race lay in the hands of a single man. It was a good thing that one man had years of experience, training, and enough common sense with what to do with a 4 kilometer long powerhouse bristling with weaponry and the carrier of more than 55,000 souls.

A single man was all it took.

Lord Admiral Dranok Lussk strolled the bridge of his precious vessel, his golden eyes glazed to the bridge crew before him. They worked with almost complete silence, the occasional chatter stirring when crewmen consulted with each other or their superiors. Efficiency was what the strolling man craved, almost as much as he thirsted for power. A sly grin occupied his face as he turned to face the bootsteps approaching him. The large man swiveled to spot an officer incoming with a concerned look on his face.

With a salute the man spoke, "Sir, there's an unknown vessel coming out of hyperspace."
The hand dropped with the Admiral taking a moment to consider his options. "Activate tractor beams and gravity wells, bring it closer and establish communications with it."
"Yes, sir."

@[member="Flint Dexen"]
 

Flint Dexen

Wandering Lost Soul
Writer
@[member="Dranok Lussk"]

The ship was huge. No, it was simply massive. It amazed him that the ship that Flint was onboard had not been obliterated immiediately when he had exited hyperspace. In the currently tense situation that the Galaxy was in, many pilots across the stars maintained an aggressive better-to-be-safe-then-sorry policy. And when such an approach was taken, it meant immiediately taking down other unknown or suspicious ships.

Although the gigantic cruiser had spared him his life for the moment, Flint knew he was into trouble. For almost a whole minute, Flint worked furiousely on getting the hyperlane coordinates down and seeing to it that the ship was ready to make a lightspeed jump back to Coruscant. It was the moment that he gazed out the window that he immiediately could tell he was in a bad situation. While he had been working on trying to get himself back to Coruscant, his ship had been drifting closer and closer to one of the battlecruiser's massive hanger.

Flint also noticed that the battlecruiser had been trying to establish contact with him for the last minute or so, but he had failed to make any reply. This was not looking too good, he knew. Now, Flint nervousely activated the landing sequence as he found himself making its approach into the cruiser's hanger, with the ship's weapons trained right at him the entire time. His ship landed rather softly in the hanger. For a second, the pirate that Flint had previousely subdued woke up, only to be kicked in the face by Flint and to go unconscious once more.

Sighing, Flint made his way down the ramp of his ship, his electrostaff and blaster (taken from the pirate) firmly in his grip. He had a very bad feeling of what was about to happen.
 

Judas of Vahl

Beyond Broken
Character
The small vessel entering the massive hangar of the Horizon would not go unnoticed. Rather the opposite. As soon as the freighter was past the ray shields, alarms blared at maximum and legionnaires prepared themselves for what was to come. Many of them expected opposition, few assumed it was a drill. The Horizon's crew didn't usually have drills, almost all of the 58,000 souls had witnesses the ravages of warfare. The legionnaires of the 119th Legion were the most seasoned group of the bunch. Having participated in the seizures of Lwhekk, Zaadja, Taloraan, and all of them experienced the intense training of the Rattatak Military Academy. In short, they were the best the Fringe had to offer.

And all of them had their weapons trained on the single man disembarking the foreign ship. A pair of legionnaires advanced towards the man, their carbines poised at his chest as they shouted for him to raise his hands and drop to his knees.

The Lord Admiral watched his legionnaires take action, his eyes gleaming with mirth. He didn't need to give orders to his men, they knew exactly what he would do and began to take action even before the man could open his mouth.

@[member="Flint Dexen"]
 

Flint Dexen

Wandering Lost Soul
Writer
@[member="Dranok Lussk"]

Flint's grip tightened on his weapons as he saw what lay before him in the hanger. A countless number of troops had their weapons trained on him. It didn't take much effort to figure out that any sudden movement by Flint meant instant death within a mere second. He'd be a pile of cinder before he could even activate his electrostaff. He sighed as a pair of troopers headed towards him. Judging by their current management of the situation, Flint could tell that these troopers were well trained. Another note he took to himself was that it seemed as though these weren't Republic troops. He wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing.

One of them shouted at him to drop his weapons, to raise his hands, and to drop to his knees. There wasn't much to gain by trying to fight his current opposition. And these people didn't seem to be much interested in hearing him out. So what came next was what he was most expected to do: he let his electrostaff and blaster fall to the ground with an echoing clang. However, Flint did not raise his hand nor drop to his knees. Instead, he summoned his bravery and spoke. "I wish to speak to the admiral in charge of this ship. I have no intent of doing any of you harm." he declared.
 

Judas of Vahl

Beyond Broken
Character
The Lord kept his gaze trained on the lone figure that had emerged just seconds ago from the helpless freighter. A whole platoon of legionnaires were already on them the moment they were within visual from the hangar, circling the ship completely and leaving no room for error. Dranok flashed a predatory grin as he began to stroll across the hangar, the three fundamentals of leadership ringing in his mind. A leader, followers, and a goal. It was what bound societies and groups together, as long as they all had a single common goal, then they would succeed with due motivation coupled with direction.

The wolfish grin was still plastered across his face as the man kept his pace across the thick durasteel hull, passing several legionnaires who were crouched behind various pieces of equipment and gear, their weapons aimed forwards, their trigger fingers getting itchy. The grin shifted to a small smirk as he neared the man on his knees, his hands behind his head along with a pair of blaster rifle barrels prodding at him.

"At ease," Dranok raised a hand. "We don't want our friend here getting hurt."

@[member="Flint Dexen"]
 

Flint Dexen

Wandering Lost Soul
Writer
@[member="Dranok Lussk"]

Flint grimaced as he watched who must be the one in charge of the ship approach him. He smirked at the man's words. At the man's words, the troop's relaxed slightly, but Flint could still tell that if he moved in any sudden way, they'd shoot him down within a second.

Flint stood up, straightening his back to face the man, eyeing his weapons that remained dropped on the ground. "I can tell you are not part of the Republic... Who are you people, and where in the Galaxy am I?" he asked.
 

Judas of Vahl

Beyond Broken
Character
The Lord Admiral kept his approach level-headed, making no leaning movement towards aggression nor submission. He merely strode forward past ranks of legionnaires, planting himself before the young man. Dranok gave a surveying look around, his golden eyes analyzing each and every one of the soldiers that stood poised to decimate the intruder and his ship in a single instant. His visual sweep soon ended with his steeled gaze landing upon the risen man before him. The same smirk still resided upon his lips, widening slightly as he spoke.

"I am Lord Admiral Dranok Lussk of the Lords of the Fringe." His entire being reverberated with confidence. "And you are?"

@[member="Flint Dexen"]
 

Flint Dexen

Wandering Lost Soul
Writer
@[member="Dranok Lussk"]

The Lord of the Fringe. He had never heard of such an organization before. Flint wasn't anywhere near the Republic, that was for sure. Flint looked steely back at the Admiral, making it clear that he wasn't afraid of his current situation. "Flint Dexen." he responded, saying it as bravely as he could. "And I expect you to let me go from where I've come from."
 
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