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Public Money for Nothing ~ Pirate Raid on Mahporeem

Major Faction

Jonyna Si

The Eye of the Storm
Jonyna Si
Character Bio


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TAGS: Ronhar Tane Ronhar Tane​
High above the junk haven of Mahporeem, a station sat in the silence of space. Since the fall of The Imperial Confederation, the Mahporeem Imperial Remnant had been mostly left to it's own devices. Yet another fractured piece of the broken imperial dream. But the Wild Space Rebellion knew it was only a matter of time. They needed to keep the pressure on.

A bounty had been put out. A call for anyone with guts or stupidity, anyone with a need for credits and a decent ship.

Sabotage or Destroy. It didn't matter which.

Objective One:
Orbital Debris​
The Burning Light, and Zoro Igala Zoro Igala slipped into the Mahporeem system quietly. Waiting with their full stealth suites engaged, waiting for the arrival of whomever was coming. The Imperials had to be none the wiser.

The Wild Space Rebellion had put out the call for anyone and everyone, and they knew the types that would take. Bounty Hunters. Pirates. Rebels without a Cause. Rebel Intellegence had told them the station would be relatively unguarded, but anyone with a brain knew the station would have a fleet guarding it.

Now it was just a question of who would be the first to try for it.
Objective Two:
Beastie Boys​
The station itself was a treasure chest, waiting to be opened. The Wild Space Rebellion had left the station itself as cart blanche for anyone willing to get aboard to ravage and raid. The more damage to the station, the better.

But the true prize was it's owner. Ronhar Tane Ronhar Tane himself, a man wanted in several systems. Should one find him and bring him in alive to the rebellion, would be worth quite the payout. The only question is where he is.
 
Major Faction

Zoro Igala

The Star Stalker
Zoro Igala
Character Bio

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Wild Space Rebellion Fleet, The Burning Light
Tag: OPEN, STEALTHED IN SYSTEM ATM​
Fleet Comp:
Objective One​
The Fleet arrived without so much as a whisper. Comm lasers kept inter-ship communications point to point, and silent. Zoro intended for this to be a show of the Burning Light's prowess in ambush warfare. He knew not what the imperials would be bringing, but he knew better than to trust intel that was more than a day old.

"Sir, all ships are accounted for. We're unnoticed for now. What shall be our first move?"

"Send Raven out, keep the element of surprise. We'll have the Reaper on standby. I wanna get a read on the Imperial Response once the pirates start arriving..."

The Liberation send out a single squadron, the stealth X-wing squadron that pushed towards the planet itself, scanning for imperial ships.

Zoro let out a breath. They'd attack once they knew what they were dealing with.
 
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John Mahporeem

The one and true leader of Mahporeem!
John Mahporeem

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RUST HAVEN STATION
MAHPOREEM IMPERIAL REMNANT SPACE
OBJECTIVE I: ORBITAL DEBRIS

All in all, it was just another average day for Rust Haven Station.

Like all the remaining Verd-class Salvage and Trash Processing Stations, Rust Haven was in the midst of receiving its next batch of salvage material, to be sorted through and either constructed into something useful or broken down into recyclable components. At the moment, security was rather lax, with just a single Nebulon Fire-class Light Carrier guarding the station and all the material held within it. An Arquitens-class Cargo Cruiser was docked alongside one of the station's four docking bays, unloading the scrap, as a number of asteroids drifted lazily past, one of them noticeably larger than the rest of them. Far below the station, Mahporeem was preparing its next convey to go and pick up the material that Rust Haven had already gone through.

It was a simple and efficient operation, one that the Imperial Remnant had been doing for years now. Even before they had opened back up to the galaxy, Mahporeem had been well versed in the scrap trade, and the additional of new business partners had only increased the amount of scrap coming and going from the planet. To the Imperial Remnant, scrap was literally everything, the beating heart of a highly unusual and unconventional Imperial war machine seeking to spread its influence all across the galaxy.

Perhaps that was the problem.

Perhaps it was overconfidence. Perhaps it was just plain incompetence. Perhaps it was the very end of the security rotational detail, which had just left as the new shift was late to come cover them. Whatever the reason was, Rust Haven was for the moment seriously under defended, and if it were to be attacked, it was likely that any intruders would have a relatively easy time coming aboard or destroying the station before the Imperial Remnant could properly respond.

At least, that's how things appeared. Surely taking over Rust Haven would be nothing more than a simple matter for even the most disorganized of forces, no? It wasn't as if the Imperial Remnant would have any surprises for potential attackers...right?

TAGS:
Jonyna Si Jonyna Si
OPEN

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Major Faction

R'ayne Asara

Darth Sycophantia, Queen of Hearts
R'ayne Asara
Character Bio
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money for nothing
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[]

Qu€€n of H€art§
​


weapon ~ draconic scourge
outfit ~ attire
Allies ~ Mahporeem Imperial Remnant
Enemies ~ If Not Above
tag(s) ~ open

​
The salvage station hung in the blackness of space like the carcass of some impossible celestial beast, its skeletal docking spars and gantries wrapped around derelict hulls harvested from a dozen forgotten battlefields.

I walked its shadowed corridors with measured grace, my boots clicking softly against grated durasteel while two salvage technicians hurried nervously ahead of me. Their uniforms smelled faintly of machine oil and recycled air, and I could feel their unease through the Force as clearly as one feels the heat of a nearby flame.

Vast chambers opened before us, filled with the dismembered remains of starfighters, frigates, and ancient transports suspended from magnetic cranes like sacrificial offerings upon iron altars.

"And these recovered hyperdrives," I asked softly, running red fingers along a dismantled reactor housing, "how many are deemed salvageable compared to those stripped for components?"

The taller technician nearly stumbled over his own words as he explained the station's categorization systems, inventory procedures, and refurbishment teams. I listened intently, my expression calm and unreadable, while inwardly I found myself approving of the efficiency displayed before me.

The deeper we ventured, the more pleased I became. Endless rows of organized storage vaults stretched beneath dim cerise illumination, each section meticulously labeled and tracked through interconnected logistics networks.

Massive droid-operated furnaces melted unusable wreckage into raw materials while nearby workshops transformed recovered technology into functioning equipment for the Mahporeem Imperial Remnant.

"And your security measures?" I inquired, watching servitors move crates of salvaged weapon components beneath watchful surveillance arrays. "How often are audits performed? What percentage of recovered materials are lost through error or theft?"

The technicians exchanged anxious glances before answering with surprising precision. Their responses revealed discipline rather than incompetence, procedure rather than chaos.

As I observed the station's ceaseless mechanical rhythm, I could not help but admire what I saw. There was purpose here. Order. Profit. The station consumed the dead remnants of war and birthed utility from ruin, much as carrion creatures fed upon fallen giants.

Beneath the cold gaze of the stars, amidst the groaning metal and distant screams of cutting torches, I found myself mentally approving of nearly every aspect of the operation.

The Mahporeem Imperial Remnant had built something practical, something enduring, and in a galaxy drowning in decay, such competence was a treasure rarer than any relic hidden within the station's cavernous vaults.​

 
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Major Faction

Captain Charles

Member
Captain Charles
Character Bio
CAPTAIN CHARLES
MIN Stryker | En Route to Rust Haven​


The Crew had familiarized themselves with the upgraded MIN Stryker, the new ships of First Scouting Squadron were under construction, the Cadets were being trained. It seemed everything was going Captain Charles’s way as he sat enjoying a drink at a space port cafe. After the whirlwind of projects that he and his Crew had to do following the Remnant’s victory at Doan it was nice to have a break before getting back into the action.

Today’s mission would be simple. Escort a convoy picking up processed materials from the Rust Haven Station. A simple task, though even simple tasks require attention to detail Charles thought taking another sip of his drink. It was a routine mission, placed at an ideal time. Charles had decided that the Cadets had progressed far enough in their training to be awarded a weekend break. Luckily the mission fell on the first day of that break giving him and his Crew plenty of time to complete the mission, rest, then get back to training the Cadets.

The base PA sounded as Charles was about to take another sip.

“Convoy PQ-6967 departs in 30 minutes all crews report to your ships. I repeat all crews report to your ships.”

Charles set down his drink. It was time.

– 45 Minutes Later | En Route to Rust Haven –

If Charles was completely honest with himself he was skeptical of the new AI system at first. He and his Crew had been already quite in tune with each other and he had assumed that the AI would be redundant, unnecessary and ruin the carefully built ecosystem on board the Stryker.

But after a few drills he was proven wrong. The system increased his Crew’s efficiency by nearly 50 percent, increasing the processing and reaction speed of the already experienced crew to levels that would have been impossible in any other condition.

Turning his attention back to his displays Charles noticed that the other escorts were lagging behind. According to ATLAS, they were 10 minutes away and had been held up due to confusion in the guard rotation schedule. That meant the Stryker was alone guarding 8 transports. Not ideal if a threat were to appear.

“Comms tell the security ships to hurry up.” Said Charles.

“On it!” Came the response.

Almost simultaneously a notification popped up on Charles’s display telling him the message had been sent and received.

“They said they are trying sir. It seems they are still getting in formation and all that.” Reported his Communications Officer.

“Roger.” Responded Charles turning his attention back outside. The Rust Haven was coming into view, its large silhouette visible in the distance.

Those security ships had better hurry up Charles thought. I’m don’t like the idea of having to babysit 8 transports all alone.
 
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Saram Kote

Strill Securities Al'verde
Saram Kote
Character Bio

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​
Friendly Units:
Squad Mission Equipment

Ran Netra - 2IC, Rifleman Viraen Kyrdol - Sniper Vikhar Kote - Heavy Weapons Operator Anila Kyrr - Demolitions Expert Jaing Nihut'tyr - Technician Janar Kyrr - Heavy Weapons Operator/Demolitions Expert Rusana Kote - Rifleman



Hostile Tag(s): Captain Charles Captain Charles | R'ayne Asara R'ayne Asara | John Mahporeem John Mahporeem | Mahporeem and Allies

Friendly Tag(s): Jonyna Si Jonyna Si | Zoro Igala Zoro Igala | Wild Space Rebellion and Allies

Saram's Equipment

Armor Implant(s) Equipment Melee Sidearm(s) Rifle(s) Explosives



Objective Two

A tidy payout and hamstringing a potential opponent of the Farworlds Alliance? Shab yes, how could she say no to an offer like that. Their corvette had arrived in the system a short while ago, hopefully undetected thanks to its low observability mode and advanced geometry hyperspace bubble or some other osik like that. Their gunship was now underway, on final approach to the station under full stealth protocols. The cabin had fallen into silence, with only the subtle slicking of magazines and faint mumming of power cells as last minute gear checks were performed.

Saram barely felt the gunship subtly decelerate as it came to a stop next to the station. The gunship came to a halt and the cabin was bathed in a green light. "Ride's over, signal for pickup when you need it. I'll be on station," called Rav over the gunship's intercom.

"Alrighbt, ad'ike, just like we planned. Team solus, go EVA, breach two airlocks over. Team T'ad, we're going in the standard route, hit them hard and fast. We breach togeher," reminded Saram as they all split into their respective teams.

Ran, Viraen, Janar and Rusana would head toward the reactor and place charges while she took Anila, Jaing and Vikhar to hit the security control room. Their objective was to ideally send the Imps into disarray, but who knew, maybe they'd get luck and find this Ronhar Tane Ronhar Tane shabuire . No skin off her back if he wasn't home.

All these Imp stations were almost the same, which was to her benefit. As tbe old saying went, 'Never correct your enemy when he is making a mistake. Not that any Imps would listen to her even if she cared to for some di'kutla reason.

Saram and her team held position until the other team was in position. Saram watched over the picture-in-picture helmet feed as TWT-01 Thermal Well Tape was applied to the outer door of one of the airlocks. "That's out cue," Saram said over team comms Jaing moved the gunship's Ventral Plasma Cut Boarding Device into place.

The breach signal went out over the battlenet a moment later. Frequency, hopping, encrypted, nothing that would give them away. The TWT-01 Thermal Well burned bright as the gunship's plasma cut boarding device made short work of the airlock they were entering through. Saram and the other commandos activated their armor's active stealth features as Jaing snaked a Extendable, Articulated, Steerable Electro Photo Receptor Nanocam from his gauntlet-vambrace unit through the gunship's open ventral hatch.

Saram and the rest of Davaab squad boarded the station, armor stealth features active, invisible as wraiths in the night, moving fast and with weapons up and at the ready. Rav peeled their gunship off, moving further and further away on the tactical map. They were no on their own with the Imps, the poor shabuire.

 
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