Lost in Space [Mando'ade T3 Dominion of Myrkr Hex]

[Zef Halo]

Lost In Space​

Mando’ade T3 Dominion Of Myrkr Hex​

Open for all to join​

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Obroa-Skai: A deep space science vessel has lost contact with HQ at Obroa-Skai. Hired to investigate why the ship had gone dark, we will be boarding what looks like a completely intact on the outside but completely dead within, science ship in deep space.​

Nothing is as it seems.​

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Myrkr: Sandbox. Reunite with your brothers, set up new settlements for those displaced by the Manda’yaim catastrophe, hunt vornskrs, gather ysalamir. Do whatever you want to do.​

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Contracts: Companies. Interested in a major faction contract or sponsorship? The Mando’ade have erected a trading station in the Myrkr system which serves as a transit hub to passing by vessels. Requires 5 posts for contract, 15 for sponsorship.​

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MANDO'ADE FRIGATE KYR'BES
DEEP SPACE

Jaig felt the thrust of the Mandalorian frigate decline steadily as it maneuvered to board the scientific vessel that the Obroans needed help with.

Scanners had reported no life aboard but before the Mandalorians could think of tugging the abandoned ship, they were to investigate it from inside, sweep every corner and find the reason to why was it completely empty in the middle of nowhere.

A soft thud signaled that the frigate had locked onto the scientific vessel and the airlock that stood a dozen yards from the armed Mandalorians was only what stood between them and the derelict vessel.

Chatter of Mandalorians sharing similar experiences flooded the channels until the airlock opened and the Mandalorian strike team entered. Jaig's HUD came to live and night vision was promptly activated.

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:: NO POWER, NO LIGHTS, NO OXYGEN, NO GRAVITY. ::​

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:: LIFE SUPPORT SYSTEMS DOWN. ::​

 

[Poe]

​Location: Serreno
​Objective: Contracts
Allies: Money
​Enemies: Poverty
Posts: 1.20



​The Count of House Venjuta sat with his feet on his mahogany desk, with a drink of spiced wine in one hand and the other gripped firmly on the cusp of his secretary's ass. He tried to listen as the knock-out red haired woman spoke of the company's monthly report, but his mind was on what he wanted to do to her when the lights went out. ​"I don't think your really listening to me," ​faking a tone of disapproval in her voice while shoving her backside deeper into his grip.

​"I was listening to every word," he replied digging his fingertips deeper into her clothed rear. ​"Is that so, boss? Because I thought you would react differently to the report the Mando'ade are looking to create company contracts, even sponsorship with company owners." ​The mention of profits caught him off guard, his next drawing of his chaliced wine missing his lips; spilling down his overly priced silk shirt. ​"What are you doing rubbing your ass on my hand when you should be getting my personal yacht ready," ​he said trying to save his shirt from dark colored stains.

​Watching the swaying of hips of his personal secretary head toward the door, he said, ​"When I get back, love, we will finish what you started."

 

[Arctorius]

Location: Mykr Syte.
Objective: III
Allies: The Mando'ade
Enemies: Unknown
Post: 1/20
Savitor had recently joined the Mando'ade, it made sense, afterall most of his companies facilities were in Mando'ade space and so he had come here. For it is nearly imposible to colonize somewhere, wiithout industrializing it. So here was Savitor walking along the streets of Myrkr on his way to the trading hub where he could try and obtain sponsorship from the Mando'ade for his company. He would have been flying but he didn't want to wreck his brand new ship in the trees of the planet's forests. The more prestigious and larger his company got, the better and more effective the sponsorship would be. For now, it was merely a deposit of time that would probably pay great dividends.

[member="Marlow Venjuta"]

 

[Drof'del Tavor]

MANDO'ADE FRIGATE: KYR'BES​

DEEP SPACE​

(Objective: Obroa-Skai)​

Allies: Mando'ade and company​

Enemies: N/A​

Post: 1/20​

Drof'del was checking his gear, they would be approaching the derelict scientific vessel soon. He loaded a fresh power cell into his carbine and charged the bolt making sure he was locked and loaded. There were no transmissions broadcasting from the ship. The only thing that could be raised on comm channel originating from the vessel was a crackling static. This was eerie. Too quiet even.

Drof was making last minute changes and checking his equipment one final time before they departed onto the ghost ship. They were hired to figure out why the vessel had gone 'dark', cut off all communication, and the ship was lifeless. Looking almost abandoned from the outside, but the condition of the ship looked pristine, like it just left the drydock 5 seconds ago.

"This is kinda weirding me out vode. This is the kinda stuff you hear Deep Space pilots talk about but never divulge the rest of the story. Awaiting orders" his helmet confirmed successful transmission with an audible krrzzt

The Mandalorian strike team moved fluidly down the corridor, Drof included; he had his carbine at the ready ready to dispatch any potential hostiles. Moments later they were in the derelict vessel, the interior looked torn and destroyed, like demo charges were let loose on the vessel. Drof'del's night vision came online as he looked rapidly around the room, making sure the coast was clear.

"Clear. Where should we move to from here? Over." he prompted to his supervisors. With a scientific vessel, he wasn't sure where to go: The bridge, research labs, engine bay. He---they needed to find out the cause of this 'darkness'.

[member="Jaig Vizsla"]

 

[Ignatius]

MANDO'ADE FRIGATE: KYR'BES​

DEEP SPACE​

(Objective: Obroa-Skai)​

Allies: Mando'ade, [member="Drof'del Tavor"], [member="Ardgal Raxis"],​

Enemies: Anyone​

Post: 1/20​

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Checking my HUD systems, I calmly sat in the vessel that was taking the strike team to the blacked out ship. One that suddenly went out. I took a moment to load my old weapons. Weapons that the Mandalorian Clans used before their fall. It was an outdated rifle, but it still worked like all the others. It was magnetized to my back, and I held a scatterblaster in my hands as I stood up. One of the men on the vessel seemed to be wanting to run the show.

Fine by me.

I have been in the same position far too many times to count. Let the new blood lead and test their feet in the cold water. Once they get good at it, or if they fail, then the vets like myself can take over. Standing just over seven feet tall, I was a behemoth of a being. I moved up towards the opening as we drew close to the hangerbay.

"Artifical gravity may be off, and life support systems may be down. Prepare for the worst."

As much as I hoped that this ship would be somewhat active, to maybe support life, I had the oddest feeling that this wasn't going to turn out well. I hated this part of me. I was capable of the force and was able to interpret things much more easily that the simple soldier. I used it as a tool, but hated the idea of me having the force. I have fought so many with it, that I hated it with a passion.

Yet, I could still feel the force. Ambient force energies. It was like a natural gut feeling, but much stronger for me. I quelled that feeling inside me for now as I activated the dome lights on either side of my helmet.

"Tavor, Take point if you wish."

 

[Nolan Detta]

Location:Obroa
Objective 1
Post 1


Nolan stood amongst his Vod as they prepared to board the derelict vessel. He stood next to Drof and patted him on the shoulder.

"Don't tell me your afraid of ghost Vod?" He jested over comms. "After all that we've faced? Magical beings wielding laser swords and orbital bombardments. This will be a walk in the park."

Nolan synchronized his HUD to the unit's stats. The air system turned on inside his armor and loaded his Kath Hound. His Railgun was Stowe's on his back, as well his Rhyno revolver on his hip. Nolan stowed a beskad on his back. Even a walk in the park meant bringing all the toys.

The readings from the ship were concerning as not even a flicker of life was noted. This was going to be interesting.

[member="Kalyr Alor"] [member="Drof'del Tavor"]

 

[Darth Metus]

"Don't count out his caution just yet, ner'vod." came the Specter's response to [member="Nolan Detta"].

Only a pace or so behind the pack was Vojak, clad in his typical white beskar'gam. The warrior moved forward, matching the pace of his fellows.

"I heard a story once, told by the old men Halo and Verd. They boarded a derelict ship, just like this one, and found chit so ugly it made Akala look like [member="Danger Arceneau"]."

A low chuckle escaped him at the thought. Banter aside, Vojak had his sidearm raised and at the ready. Come what may, he would at least go down putting two in its skull.

[member="Kalyr Alor"], [member="Nolan Detta"], [member="Drof'del Tavor"], [member="Jaig Vizsla"]

(1)

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

MANDO'ADE FRIGATE: KYR'BES​

DEEP SPACE​

(Objective: Obroa-Skai)​

Allies: Mando'ade, [member="Kalyr Alor"] and [member="Drof'del Tavor"]​

Enemies: N/A​

Post: 1/20​

For a very brief moment the warrior had stepped outside of what it meant to be a soldier. It was a grind, an endless grind that had permeated every ounce of his being, every second of his day. He was only a soldier, even in capitalism, he was a soldier. That was all that he seemed to be good for, that was all he knew, but for a fraction of a moment with [member="Rashae"] he had glimpsed at what civilian life could be like, what life could be like without a war to fight or a rifle in hand. And now he was once more back into it, back in armor and back to being a soldier.

"In my experience because they normally make it up," Ardgal said to Drof, rousing from his thoughts. He holstered both of his punisher pistols and gripped his ravager shot gun with a slight nod. They were not as common weapons as blasters, but they were equally lethal in their own right.

He followed after Kalyr, shotgun poised at the ready. This entry was clear, but definitely banged up. He looked at his HUD's readout, "We're reading toxic levels of Nitrogen and Carbon dioxide in the air with trace amounts of Lithium and ammonia in the air," he paused, "Art grav is low, down 20% and its colder than it should be in here."

He looked at the three passage ways before them, one in each different direction, "The threshold along the left shows scratching and scarring along the left and right durasteel frames, whatever did that was pretty strong," he motioned to the right, "Heavy scuffmarks along the base frame of this door, looks like something was dragged through, but I can't tell direction. You call, Drof."

 

[Alkor Centaris]

Abandoned Karrde Smuggling Outpost, Myrkr
0250 Local Time​

Objective: Scout Myrkr, bypass Fortress World Security measures, colonize.
Post 1

Hydraulics hissed and steam billowed out of the landing gears as they alighted in the midst of a well-preserved ghost town. In another age, Talon Karrde had erected this haven for the scum and villany of the galaxy, and it had stood a monument to the endurance of scoundrels. Because of the indigenous serpents that rebuffed the Force, Jedi tended to avoid the planet outright.

In this way, the reach of galactic government became suspended. Because of this shift in the paradigm, Myrkr became widely regarded as a highly valuable strategic location, and was even fortified in time as a Fortress World.

Those assets still existed, if you knew where to look. Alkor disembarked in full armor, and his HUD sprang to life as the atmosphere was identified as breathable. Glyphs denoting nearby entryways into abandoned buildings lit up before his eyes, and the softest of sounds were magnified to bolster security. He pried the shotgun from his back and let it droop to his side, where it rested.

This mission was intended as largely non-combat. Firearms were a formality. "Scan the immediate area for dormant power cells," he instructed the display. The sensors buzzed as they went to work. "I want anything with enough power to activate highlighted."

Several seconds passed. The sweep crawled across Myrkr's topography, and several words flickered on screen. Instances detected. Prioritizing now. He took several steps out of the ship and slowly moved his gaze across the barren settlement. "No one's been here in years," he muttered.

The HUD painted his targets in a yellow outline as he approached. He counted down the meters as they ticked away, then knelt down and tinkered with the power supply. It took several minutes to bring back online.

One after another, bright lights flickered to life and bathed the ancient smuggler's base in false daylight. Different time, same galaxy. There would always be a black market. Opening it back up would prove useful for getting contraband from the Galactic Governments into Mandalorian hands.

One thing at a time, though.

"Centaris here. Karrde base is deserted, as reported. I've activated the secondary power supply, and it appears liveable." Alkor walked slowly through the compound, letting the machinery work on scans. He had to be sure it was safe before calling anyone else in. "I'll try to find information on the fortifications that are in place on the planet. If anyone knew how to bypass the security, it would have been the smugglers."

 

[Nyos Val]

Myrkr/Contracts
Objective 3
Post 1

Dropping out of hyperspace were two vessels of moderate size. Two transport type vessels to be precise. One, the flagship of InVal Cybernetics, and the second was a cargo freighter. Upon nearing the spaceport Nyos was flagged by control to state the business of their presence on Myrkr, being that it was in fact a prison world. Although, a number of reports had concluded that the Mandalorians were back. Hoping to reclaim the planet, they had sent emissaries and medical staff to the planet to help rebuild what was lost.

After disclosing his motives, Nyos and his wingmate were aloud a temporary docking pass. His reasons, trade, and contracts. Hoping to once again gain a contract with The Mandalorians for resources and materials. In return he'd develop anything they'd need. As well as sell his current stock to the people of the Mythosaur.

@Anyone looking/allowed to make deals for the Mando'ade.

 

[Darth Vulcanus]

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Objective: Collect Ysalamir​

Location: Aboard the "ISD Invictus"​

Allies: Imperial NPCs​

Enemies:...We'll see​

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Once upon a time, there was an inadequate, snivelling weasel of a man. He believed in the Core World values of democracy and freedom, he even fought to preserve them. The glorious Republic, he had thought, would never falter, fail nor fall. But then this weasel was shown the error of his ways. Shown the lies of the Republic. Dragged from his delusions by a woman named [member="Keira Ticon"] . The weasel was broken and confused and so, to learn the truths of the galaxy, had secluded himself in a world of written history. It was here that the weasel became something more. It was here that the weasel became a wolf.

And now that wolf was on the hunt for the same woman who had created it. Grand Admiral Lucien E. Irridius had offered an olive branch to Keira and in return, she lit it ablaze. He would not stand for it, he would not sulk into the shadows. He would bring her to heel but doing that was going to require much more than his fleet alone could offer. Kiera was a woman unaffected by the fear of death, her public record alone had proven that. She needed a special touch.

The Imperial First Fleet was too large a force to justify bringing it along on this particular foray. Yet, he was the Grand Admiral and justifying the use of a small squadron of Star Destroyers was easy, even if it did break standard Imperial formations. His personal Conquerer-Class Star Destroyer was the first to drop from hyperspace, followed promptly by ISD Tarkin's Wall and the ISD Ressurection.

"Grand Admiral, we are detecting several unidentified ships in the system." Captain Kilko, reported as his glowing red eyes scanned the sensors

"Well, of course, we are, Captain," Irridius replied, his gloved hands folded neatly behind his back as he stared off across the void of space at the twinkling lights in the distance.

"You were expecting them, sir?" Kilko turned, raising a black eyebrow in the direction of Lucien

"Expecting the barbarian hordes to restrict themselves for too long is foolish, Captain. Sooner or later, the filth clogs the sewers and overflows onto the streets of civilization." There was no response, only a silence that filled the bridge for some time before Irridius continued on, "prepare all hands for battle, notify Tarkin's Wall to power their gravity well generators but do not engage. All vessels are too ready capital weapons to fifty-percent charge and keep them directed away from the enemy ships until further directed."

There was no hesitation, the Imperials went straight to work, dancing about the glimmering hull without pause.

 

[Ria Misrani]

Contracts
Post 1

House Verd Hangar and Armory was now starting to gain traction, with the Auli'i gunship. It served two purpose, the first as a dropship and the second was her class, gunship. While she could perform both jobs she did not do so with either grace or any high efficency. Something HVHAR's owner would soon correct with additional funding. Funding she now needed from her brothers and sisters, from the Mando'ade.

Somewhere on a hyperspace lane, surrounded by streaks of azure as the stars sped by. A Kirehe-type, heavy frigate and while it was slow and crude it would be effective in doing exactly what she needed to do. Unrelenting against foes of the Mandalorian people, and against the foes of House Verd. The ship's design was sleek, and spoke of the clans and just how far they had come, and how much farther they had to go. Upon revision into realspace, a lone figure appraoched the cockpit, clad in studded leather.

Aboard the HVS Mohoao, Amaya Verd stood with one hand over the pilots chair and another over the holomap. "Take us in, alert our vode." She ordered, "tell them that House Verd has arrived."

 

[Darth Metus]

It was time to make things official.

For quite some time now, the Behemoth had stood alongside the Mando'ade. He attempted to learn their ways. He commanded his subordinates to fight their battles. He bled for them. He carried their banner. Yet, as beautiful a thing as his conversion was, Malok had a corporation to run. It fell upon his shoulders to propel the name ApeX to great heights. And thus had the Behemoth come this day, intent on forging an alliance with the children of Mandalore.

Upon dropping out of hyperspace, the rudimentary Corvette slid into the orbit of Mykyr. However, it did not land, nor did it descend further. After all, it would be rude to drop in unannounced...especially to those who clung to the planet in the wake of the Calamity. So, the Behemoth nodded to his communications officer, who promptly opened a transmission to the vode below. "This is Commander Malok of ApeX, requesting permission for the Silverback to land."

(2)

 

[Keira Priest]

Location: Myrkr
Allies: [member="Alkor Centaris"], [member="Amaya Verd"], [member="Malok"], [member="Nyos Val"]
Enemies: None, technically. ([member="Lucien E. Irridius"])
(1/20)

Myrkr was as odd a planet as any, perhaps even more so given that the native species of the planet - the ysalamiri - caused usage of the Force that may have once been instinctive to become an impossibility. It was one of the main reasons the world remained vastly uninhabited by most, and why it was such a valuable resource in the greater galaxy. Combating Force sensitives was no easy feat for the average galactic citizen, and having a creature that was capable of voiding all use of the ethereal was a priceless resource for any soldier or galactic power. It was why the planet had once been under control of the Mandalorian people, and why it was on its way to the same yet again, under banners of peace as opposed to conquering.

The moment Keira set foot on the planet she was instantly disconnected from the greater web of the Force, but it was far less an alien sensation than it would have been years ago. In some ways it was almost welcome, the lack of her extrasensory abilities affording her the opportunity to focus more clearly on the present as opposed to all that was happening across the entirety of the planet. Having a cleared mind was a rarity for her these days, and this excursion was a fine excuse to finally be able to focus. She was here to help the vode resettle the planet and reclaim it once and for all, overseeing colonizing operations and being sure everything was going smoothly.

"Isn't this a job for the Mand'alor?"
"Theoretically. But he's not here and I am."
"Fair enough. There are three ships requesting permission to land. Two have been identified as friendly."
"Give the two that belong to us the all-clear. What of the third?"
"Here on business, looking to make contracts with your people."
"Very well. There's a landing pad in the spaceport available."

She had forgotten how much work this was, but somehow she had missed it. Being the Warmarshal of the Crusaders had kept her busy, but it had been welcome to have somewhere to direct her energy. In this incarnation of the vode she held no true position of power, but somehow still found herself responsible for the same tasks.

"There is one final anomaly."
"Explain."
"Three capital ships have entered the system, and they appear to be Star Destroyer-class."
Immediately a string of curses escaped her. "Alert the fleet to be on guard, and hail them."
"Do you know who this is?"
"I've got a feeling."

 

[Darth Vulcanus]

Objective: Collect Ysalamir​

Location: Aboard the "ISD Invictus"​

Allies: Imperial NPCs​

Enemies:...We'll see​

[member="Keira Ticon"] [member="Amaya Verd"]​

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"Sir, a heavy frigate has just dropped from Hyperspace. " Kilko notified, to which Irridius responded by swiping his flat palm through the air. A holographic display materialized on the bridge, a three-dimensional Star Map that displayed the battlespace as ship scanners compiled data on it. The Grand Admiral quickly glanced the stars, finding the Heavy Frigates holographic representation floating several kilometers away from the starboard of the ISD Resurrection.

"Alert the Resurrection, one-hundred percent to starboard turbo lasers but not lock onto the vessel" Irridius tapped the empty space in the project, just ahead of the Heavy Frigate, "target the space directly along its flight path and hold."

It would keep the vessel from realizing it was being targeted as its systems wouldn't detect a lock on, only a visual observation would be telling and from kilometers away it would be difficult. He had no want or desire to spark his battle quite yet. "proceed to prime all core reactors for the weapon."

A gulp from Kilko, "All of them, sir?"

"All of them" Irridius hissed back, serpent eyes locking onto the insubordinate officers. The only warning he would receive.

"Prime all core reactors." Kilko flustered out to the men on the bridge, who obeyed quickly and without question.

Irridius smiled to himself, eyes dancing around the holographic display as it rendered more and more of the possible battlefield. Suddenly, however, a blinking red light distracted his eye from the ocean of blue he had been so focused on. It was a hail from Myrkr, one from the mud huts of the barbarians. Tapping his index and middle fingers to his thumb, Lucien's gloves did the rest and pulled the holo call up before him.

"Ah, Ticon. I imagined you would be wallowing about in the dirt with your barbarian friends." He mused casually, taking a step forward toward the blue lit display of the woman he loathed now, more than anything, "I'm afraid I've no time for your shell games and tribal voodoo today, however. My presence is needed urgently in The Empire and I wish to make this quick."

 

[Drof'del Tavor]

Allies: [member="Kalyr Alor"] [member="Nolan Detta"] [member="Ardgal Raxis"] @Vojak
Post 2/20

"Don't tell me your afraid of ghost Vod?"

Drof chuckled consistently, he knew that [member="Nolan Detta"] was just trying to lighten the mood so he gave a quick-witted reply "Nah, im just used to my mama leaving the night light on for me" he laughed once more. Even though this was a serious job, having humor can help calm oneself and boost morale.

"After all that we've faced? Magical beings wielding laser swords and orbital bombardments. This will be a walk in the park."

Perhaps this would be a simple sweep and retrieve but the innards of the ship was telling a different story. He did believe that they could handle this op though.

"In my experience because they normally make it up,"

"No telling what else them weasels make up Raxis.....no telling." he said cautiously as the strike team moved deeper into the vessel.

"Tavor, Take point if you wish."

His thoughts snapped back to focus as [member="Kalyr Alor"] made this statement, to which Drof gave a brief nod as he tightened his body for CQB engagement and moved forward to the mentioned intersection.

"Heavy scuffmarks along the base frame of this door, looks like something was dragged through, but I can't tell direction. You call, Drof."

Drof thought quickly, time was of the essence here. He would choose the right threshold and move down that corridor--splitting up wasn't an option that he would suggest, no telling who----or what is on this vessel.
"Moving right, hopefully we can reach the bridge from here. Thinking that we can download the full deck plans and retrieve whatever is left of the Black Box" If there were survivors, they should be there.

"I heard a story once, told by the old men Halo and Verd. They boarded a derelict ship, just like this one, and found chit so ugly it made Akala look like Danger Arceneau."

As he was moving down the corridor sweeping the passage, Drof chuckles to himself and added in the comms "That's a pretty bold statement coming from those men" he pressed onward. He could see a figure in the distance, on the floor. Moving rapidly and cautiously he approached the lump.....it was a body.

What was left was a man in a lab smock ripped to shreds. The scene reminded him of a horror story his uncle told him, about a ghost colony out in Deep Space that had a similar fate. Drof shuddered away from the body "Alright Vode, something awful is aboard here, gotta keep your guard up. Keep a look out for the bridge, maybe we can get more answers there"

 

[Nyos Val]

Location:Myrkr
Contracts
Posts 2
Allies: [member="Keira Ticon"] [member="Vojak "][member="Amaya Verd"] [member="Savitor Draay"]
Enemies: Potentially [member="Lucien E. Irridius"]
Ships: Bora Freighter, Pheobus gunboat
Crew: 4 Clone Pilots/SMGs, 20 Clone Security w/Rifles, 20 Labor droids
Cargo: 20 ZL-1C Tanks, 20 cases of Medical Companion Droids, 200 cases of various other cyber-prosthetics

As the pair of ships docked at their allotted bays, Nyos got word from his pilot that sensors were picking Star Destroyer signatures... He exited the ship as his labor droids began pushing his cargo inside to terminal onto transport speeders. Pulling his internal comm-system up he made to contact Ground Control... looking up, he tapped into his ships scanners and located the three ships approaching the planet. Their signatures displayed in his cybernetic eye.

This is Doctor Nyos Val, I'm picking up inbound Star Destroyer signatures...Are you expecting this?

<<Pilot, activate the security team. Gear up and prepare to move. Use the tanks. Stay onboard unless I call.>>

<<Understood, Doctor.>>

Nyos sprinted to the nearest security office.

Do you see those inbound ships? Are they friendlies?

 

[Nolan Detta]

MANDO'ADE FRIGATE: KYR'BES​

DEEP SPACE​

(Objective: Obroa-Skai)​

Allies: [member="Vojak "], [member="Drof'del Tavor"], [member="Ardgal Raxis"], [member="Kalyr Alor"]​

Enemies: Anyone​

Post: 2/20​

​

Nolan followed directly behind Drof, taking the second position. Swapping his optics to thermal, he saw the area in cold blues and blacks, with his allies being the only heat signatures...for now.

Following to the right corridor, he turned to what Drof noticed, poor man/woman/alien, whatever it once was, was now unidentifiable. He refocused his attentions to the front of the group. Auditory sensors picked up something further down...

<<Eyes up. Picking up movement down the corridor. Let's keep moving.>>

Nolan tapped Drof's shoulder to signal he was ready to move. Nolan, then, activated his holo-recorder. They needed to catalog everything they saw. He radioed back to the frigate...

<<This is Team One, we have found a body, moving down Corridor 3 to the right. Hoping to find the bridge. Over.>>

 

[Ugohr Poof]

Location: Sullust -> Myrkr
Objective: Companies
Post: 1/38 (writer) 1/15 (IGR Brokerage)

The past few years were rough on Ugohr as well as the probational officers charged with his case. His job as a traveling B2B salesman was the main reason why the probational officers were exasperated with him, despite Ugohr keeping with the law. By the day, he gets assigned to sales projects further and further out of the GA's traditional domains in the galactic southwest. With that said, Ugohr realizes that, with the major opportunity he has been given at work, the probational officers would probably let him go for longer periods than usual. At the Jedi Temple, he reviews the response from the probational officers for his last professionally-motivated request for travel (as nearly every request for travel has been except for one family-motivated one to Naboo a while back) prior to departure to Myrkr. The Gungan crossed his fingers, hoping that he would not fall prey to the ysalamiri while en route.

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Subject: Request for travel

Dear Ugohr Poof,

Due to the professional and business implications of the trip, we hereby grant you an allowance of three days on Myrkr to conduct the business in your last request. The Probations Board understands the complexity of closing a major deal with multiple financial commitments, including but not limited to, banking, real estate and insurance. Have a good trip to Myrkr!

The Alliance Probations Board

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[Ardgal Raxis]

Obroa-Skai Station​

DEEP SPACE​

(Objective: Obroa-Skai)​

Allies: Mando'ade, [member="Nolan Detta"], @Vojak, [member="Kalyr Alor"] and [member="Drof'del Tavor"]​

Enemies: N/A​

Post: 2/20​

​

Ardgal came closer to the body, approaching very slowly, not out of caution or fear, but gathering every scrap of visual data he could. When he reached the body, Ardgal knelt next to it, studying intently. It was a mangled mess, blood had soaked the poor being's clothes through, drying and sticking them to the body. The scanners showed it didn't stink, [Decomposition, this is less than 3 days old. Judging by the way it looks, I am gauging 2 days, 3 hours.]

The deep gash marks along the sides had been deep enough to tear through muscle down to the bone and shred organs. The sweeteningly sickly smell of dried blood was more than present. The wounds were horrifically deep along the shoulders, all but tearing the limbs free from the body. Ardgal pointed at the wounds, [These happened at least twenty minutes before the death. There was a struggle.]

He looked at the legs, [But not too bad, these lower limbs are barely touched.]

The warrior's helmet magnified the area around the neck, there were a series of gashes, some shallow, one deeply carved line ran across the trachea and jugular, two other wounds, shorter but still there, ran alongside the thick gash with perfect symmetry. Blood had gushed out the deepest here, judging by the way it had pooled on the ground and on the clothes, my estimate was 25% of the being's hemoglobin had exited here. Ardgal's finger traced around it grimly. [This is our kill wound right here, gentlemen. The bad news is we have a 48.6% chance of dealing with something that is still discovering what bipedal anatomy consists of. Strong probabilities of slow, painful deaths.]

He nudged the body with his shotgun, turning it over. The carnage was even worse from this side, as ribs had been snapped like twigs, the spine was fully exposed and broken in half mid-back. The free end stuck out gruesomely. Several of the thin sinews of flesh and muscle that were barely holding the corpse together began to break under the strain, sending several of the inner organs onto the durasteel floor.

[Most of the tissue is still here,] Ardgal said rising, [Looks like our victim was attacked from behind and rolled over post mortem. We probably weren't the first to see it.]