Plasma, Pirates, and Time Dilation: Subjugation of the Chiloon Rift (PM if you're a Pirate)

[Zambrano the Starweird]

The Chiloon Rift...

The Directory held greedy eyes upon the visage of such a rich asteroid field. They hunger for conquest, but they could not raze non-repenting worlds with a singular ship that could not even land upon the surface of a planet, under the piloting control of a mad man. They needed a fleet... yet the desired an Armada. If all went well, they would have it.

First however, they had to clear out the rodents and tidy up the nebular matter.

Along side The Thorn, a Deluge-class Assault Frigate and a Mendacity-class Corvette accompanied the vong vessel. One could say that these two vessels and a number of mining ships, were borrowed from the Primeval Fleet, but at least in the meantime they were under the Directories control. The Head of the Directory and Co-head (the admiral and vice-admiral respectively), took one Frigate, as the Senior Vice Head and Junior Vice Head (the rear admiral and commodore respectively) took the other, while the de facto head Captain Slika remained onboard The Thorn, along side the Warlord that was "leading" this operation.

The Corvette containing the Admiral, was named The Forward, where a number of Primeval converts were located for briefing.

"Attention, candidates!" The Admiral spoke down to those assembled within the Hangar Bay from a catwalk. "As you may not know, my name is Admiral Thetsh, the Warlord's highest ranking officer, and I possess his direct and explicit authority to command you in this endeavor we are to undertake. Remember, this isn't the place for you to kark around. Disobedience here will get you killed... this asteroid field has been known to sport ghost ships... we'd rather not join those ranks because one of you buffoons decided it would be funny to be independent and do your own thing. That's not even to mention the much more real threat, of the pirate bands scattered all throughout the Rift, trying to steal from anybody who attempts to mine here. We want that threat curbed, immediately. If all goes well, the Primeval Fleet can begin construction." The Admiral then paused for a moment, probably to catch his breathe.

"Understood?" He raised an eyebrow at them, before promptly taking his stride in a different direction without waiting for a response. As he was disappearing within the ship, he called back to them.

"And remember: those of you who show exceptional service here will have the option to gain status within the Warlord's domain... you might even become an Underlord." With that, he was gone.

It was time for them all enter their four starfighters, to locate optimal mining locations deeper and closer to the heart of the Rift (and possibly stumbling on something interesting), and find pirate holdouts within the Asteroids and contact the Directory of their locations to be engaged and destroyed. If the occupants were incapable of flying spacecraft, the generic non-descript fighters were big enough to carry two, and only needed one pilot.

[member="Perla Pirjo"], [member="Ceska Starshield"], [member="Condor"], [member="Tyro'din"] (?), @Interested Primeval members, @Interested Pirate Factions

 

[Armand Temi]

Perla listened to the Admiral's instructions and the missive to "not kark around." Well that was too late.

She had already slept with the Commodore on this trip and knew that he like Corellian whiskey. Well who didn't?

Did they really have to land or go wherever [member="Zambrano the Hutt"] wanted them to go? Ugh, this was all too much for the witch acolyte. She would stay in the ship, in whomever's bed, until she needed to go out.

 

[Tarek'Gor]

Tarek paced up and down the corridor of the small pirate outpost and impatient look on his face. He had docked on the station more then 3 hours ago waiting for a rendezvous that was taking far longer then he liked.

His frigate - an Avidonian Ghoul was docked in the corridor behind him. As he was on a personal mission and not on Dominion business he had made it a point to deactivate the ships transponder beacons and changed its comm frequencies to hide the ships origin. To any onlooker the ship resembled a run of the mill pirate vessel, which for the most part it was.

Tarek kicked a piece of debris as he walked. The pirate outpost was little more then a pressurized hub, from its design Tarek guessed that it had originally been a small time mining rig. Long since abandoned by its owner the hub had been converted by some resourceful individuals to serve as neutral meeting ground for the Chiloon rifts various pirate gangs.

FInally the hatch at the other end opened and Tarek's contact came out.

"Gor! My bookie! I thought that was you walkin back and forth" The Zabrak pirate exclaimed.

"Borch, you know very well that I've been waiting here forever. What is taking so long?" Tarek asked, his annoyance clear.

"Ugh. Slight problem bro" Borch replied.

Tarek looked at the other pirate with venom in his eyes. Patience was certainly one of his strong suites, but he hated having his time wasted.

"You know I said we had found some Lignan ore... well turns out my first mate read the scanner wrong" Borch made a wincing expression with his face. "It turns out it was lommite ore" The zabrak finished half smiling.

"Borch are you telling me I flew halfway across the galaxy for chalk?" Tarek replied.

"Tell you what bro, since you done me good in the past. I make it up to you. I got my eyes on a juicy target and since you came all the way out here, Ima cut you in" Borch quickly interjected, to appease his friend.

His interest piqued, Tarek listened as Borch explained what he and his ship had seen.

[member="Zambrano the Hutt"][member="Perla Pirjo"]

 

[Condor]

Location: Small Pirate Outpost (not the one[member="Tarek'Gor"] is in to be clear)
Allies: Primeval
Enemies: Pirates
Objective: Clear this outpost and all others in the field
______________________________________________________________________________________________
Condor sighed as the starfighter he was in parked itself near the entrance to one of the pirate outposts. This was the second one he had found so far, and he was not enjoying his job in the slightest. The first outpost hadn't been much of a problem, simply because nobody was there. He had gone through the trouble of busting down a door and creeping through some 8,000 square feet of building with no results. This outpost was about twice the size of the last one, and from the laser shots that had hit the starfighter on the way down, this one was inhabited. Luckily, the pilot had been nice enough to position the craft between the him and the pirates such that he could climb out.

Unusually for Condor, he didn't have his jetpack or wings on. Normally, he slept, ate, and breathed in the suit, but in the tight spaces of the outpost, they would only serve as a hindrance. On the flipside, he could carry heaver weapons, and that he had. Normally he was constrained to a blaster rifle and a few grenades, but without having to worry about a weight limit, he had the space to carry a blast cannon as well, a shotgun-like laser rifle that would be excellent in closed quarters.

Ducking under the awning of the outpost, Condor shrunk away from the hail of laser fire that the pirates were pouring out. They didn't seem particularly concerned about hitting him, but then again they were probably drunk. Bracing himself on one foot, he kicked the door at its handle, snapping the lock. Quietly, he ducked inside, his blast cannon ready. Hopefully [member="Zambrano the Hutt"] knew what he was doing and hadn't sent him on some sort of suicide mission. After all, he didn't have any backup and was likely outnumbered by at least a 10 to 1 margin.

 

[Zambrano the Starweird]

Location: The Thorn
Allies: Primeval ([member="Condor"], [member="Perla Pirjo"])
Enemies: Pirates ([member="Tarek'Gor"])
Objective: Hail the Pirates

OOC: So sorry about the delay! I have a funny definition of "in the morning" Sorry, my girlfriend had me distracted yesterday lol
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Zambrano the Hutt observed the asteroid field, and couldn't help to be excited. There was so much destructive potential here that he could play with, and caused a childish glee inside himself when he used his Dovin Basals to move minor asteroids around at his whim. It was like using the force in a way, except it came from within rather than through a web that permeated all things. Like another limb that you simply couldn't see, touch, or feel, but you knew it was there. Speaking of things that you knew were there but couldn't presently see...

"Warlord," Captain Slika whispered into his ear, "We have detected unknown vessels within the system, that bear the stereotype of pirate's. It's time to use your brutal visage to see what kind of effect it has on these creatures... and should they survive with their lives then they will know your name and face, so that your reputation will grow. Hail them." So then the slug initiated whatever biot was used to hail mechanical ships. The Deluge-class Frigate, known as The Bludgeon, began to turn in the direction of the pirates, while the The Thorn remained in its mindless duty of moving asteroids out of its way, growing ever closer to the heart of the Chiloon Rift. The Directory had a secondary interest here that involved the origin of the ghost ships that frequented here. Mining vessels followed in behind, and began eating away at the asteroids, while agents like Condor cleared out pirate strongholds and agents like...

"Hmm..." The commodore didn't like this. One of the initiates aboard The Forward, was supposed to be out there fighting for the Warlord. She was pretty to look at, and fairly average in bed. Wild, but average by his standards. In one instance, it was a good thing she was on the opposite vessel... on the other, she was a risk to his reputation within the Directory and the navy as a Commodore... and she was a loose cannon he couldn't control from here. She needed to start working, and hop onto a starfighter, before she started a ruckus and ran her lips of who she was sleeping with the other night. The Commodore privately contacted the Vice-Admiral. "It has come to my attention, the one of our agents has refused to enter the field. I suggest you kindly remind them to get moving, there are what appears to be pirates inbound according to Captain Slika."

"Very well." Short and to the point. That's how the Vice-Admiral liked he, he had learned early on.

Meanwhile, in the pirate base Condor was attacking, a drunk pirate gang boss was pounding his head in. "Whatsa goinon youse kark'eads?!" He didn't like the idea of trained military personnel shooting up his little fort in the space-woods. They had just thrown his birthday party too! This was no way to treat a captain! The gungan Captain, was almost incomprehensible to the two Weequay lieutenants, on one count of being a stupid ass gungan, and other being that he was drunk over his ass. They sorta shrugged at him not sure what to say. The Captain smacked one of them to the side, "Baaah meesagungana taka caradis poodoo!", and was making his way to where Condor entered with nothing but a plate of durasteel over his chest and a double barrel blaster pistol modified for extra power. He appeared standing over the rest, and fired off two shots at a time at the cover where Condor was.

 

[Armand Temi]

Location: Off of the Forward and into the Rift
Allies: Primeval [member="Condor"] [member="Zambrano the Hutt"]
Enemies: [member="Tarek'Gor"]
Objective: Explore the Rift

Perla finally rose out of the Commodore’s bed while he was out doing whatever Commodore’s do. She checked the small room for any belongings she could steal from him and could find nothing but a rusty shaver and a cheap chrono. She pulled on her clothes and exited the quarters and that’s when she heard the call of the Vice-Admiral barking out orders on the main ship frequency: “All initiates must board a fighter and be out into the asteroid field or initiates will be jettisoned out the back along with the space trash.”

Perla had a feeling those instructions were specifically for her.

The Dathomir exile heard a couple of other initiates talking about pirates and ghost ships and this peaked her interest more. She climbed aboard her L19 Freighter and finally launched off of the Forward and into the Rift. Immediately the atmosphere around her ship turned into a clogged debris field that was going to be difficult to navigate through. She reached down below her seat and removed a whiskey bottle that she kept stowed there. She'd need some liquid courage to help her maneuver through any clear lanes.

 

[Tarek'Gor]

Location: Ghoul Class Frigate
Allies: Pirates (NPC Borch in nearby Frigate)
Enemies: Primeval ([member="Zambrano the Hutt"], [member="Condor"], [member="Perla Pirjo"])
Objective:

• PRIMARY: Utilize nebula cloud to hide from detection
• SECONDARY: Separate Frigate from Cruiser/Corvette/Convoy

_____________________________________________________________

Having left the mining hub Tarek and Borch had returned to their respective ships to implement thier scheme. Tarek watched his scanners and activated his comm;

"Borch did your Gungan friend ever get back to you?" he asked.

"No joy from the Gungan, Gorrie. Probably drunk out of his mind. Do you want to drop in on him?" Borch replied over the comm.

Unhappy with Borch's reply, Tarek put his hands together and began to think. If the Gungan had joined them the extra ship would have helped. The problem with pirates is that while they were well armed and resourceful they were incredibly undisciplined and sometimes cowardly. Numbers and superior firepower presented the greatest advantage whenever they raided a hapless convoy or colony. This situation was considerably different as they were outnumbered, possibly outgunned and likely facing more disciplined troops. Luckily, the nebula interfered with scanners, offering a degree of concealment a property Tarek was going to exploit. As he was watching his own scanners one of the warships, a frigate judging from its size, broke off from the cluster and headed in the general direction of Tarek and Borch's ships and at the same he received a general hail from one of the ships still part of the general cluster.

"Borch, lets move deeper into the nebula, I want to be out of scanner range of the larger group and I want this frigate to follow us. Send me your Gungan friends hideout location, Ill answer this hail" Tarek stated over his secure comm with Borch's ship.

Tarek opened his comm in response to the hail from what appeared to be a large cruiser. At the same time the two pirate ships moved deeper into the nebula in an effort to confuse their enemies scanners and hoping to draw the lone frigate into a chase that would separate it from its group.

 

[Zambrano the Starweird]

Location: The Thorn
Allies: Primeval ([member="Condor"], [member="Perla Pirjo"])
Enemies: Pirates ([member="Tarek'Gor"])
Objective: Hail the Pirates - Chase the Pirates

OOC: Sorry Condor, just gunna skip over ya for now to keep things moving.
______________________________________________________________________________________________

The pirates accepted the hail, and they would be greeted with the massive projected face of the Hutt Warlord, one eye was a gaping hole, the other was a Golden orb with delusional sadism and malice-filled childish glee... though it held no direction. It had a slightly opaque value to it, and pot marked by stones that had ground themselves into his eye during the Acolyte duels. At some point the Hutt would find replacements for his eyes, but in the mean time he didn't really need to see to pilot. The ship had its own eyes for him to use. Currently however, eyes from across the nebula placed their gaze upon the visage of a scarred face of minor pus filled wounds and abrasions upon midnight and ashen flesh. His mouth was open wide in a sickening slimy grin, as his last meal could be seen lingering upon his wriggling tongue... bloody and contain fragments of what once had been a man. The cretin giggled as the connection was finally made.

"Friendssss, friendsss, do not leave me pateesas! We're only playing around, come out and play! I want to play with you now!" At this moment, the Hutt had chosen to take a bite of his snack... currently a vaguely near-human hand. Audible crunches could be heard as the hand was placed in his mouth whole, leaking blood out of the sides. After a few grueling moments of that, the displayed switched over the Captain Slika.

"That was the visage of the Primeval Warlord Zambrano the Hutt, Vile, and Diseased, Acolyte of the One Sith Empire. Whoever you are unidentified vessel, I urge you out of my human compassion that you should stand down and await to be boarded. We are currently engaged in a full system sweep, the Primeval and it's commanders have a high interest in this system for its mineral resources and other reasons you couldn't hope to understand. I do hope however, that you understand the importance of authority." Captain Slika straightened his back in a pompous manner, akin to how a small bird might make themselves look big by puffing out their chest feathers. He stood there as he listened to the bridge tried to increase sensor range, anticipating what the pirates might do, but anticipating to no avail. If they hid within the plasma atmosphere, their frigate would have to rely on visual range to detect the assumedly pirate vessel... which was very dangerous for the Deluge-class following them. It relied solely on computerized vision, having no viewing ports to speak of due to it's particular offensive nature. Hopefully, Captain Slika would hear a reply before the Pirate's signal was cut out in the plasma.

Meanwhile, the Commodore, aboard The Bludgeon as he ordered around subordinates as they prepared to pursue the pirate vessel thought about that witch that had been in his bed. The Vice-Admiral had assured him she had been sent on her duty aboard her own ship... perhaps he could get her killed? Might be fairly easy, but the Vice-Admiral would be suspicious of any suicidal mission orders on a Bleeding Sun Agent. The Commodore was already on uneven terms with the rest of the Directory. It was this sort of distraction that prevented his full attention to military situations like this... in fact, currently his eyes were left wandering on a particularly capable Captain here on The Bludgeon. The real Admiral glared at him when he noticed... they weren't the best of friends, and he was fairly certain he had some sort of protective complex over the woman... they might have been siblings? He wasn't sure, but the Directory had made it clear this woman would replace him if he ever fell out of favor... he did not want to know what that meant, which is the source of his malicious thoughts to the current woman who jeopardized his career. Privately, he personally contacted the freighter under Perla's piloting.

"This is Commodore Romm. Agent, what is your current status and mission objective? Have you located an Outpost marked for eradication?"

 

[Armand Temi]

Location: The Rift
Allies: [member="Zambrano the Hutt"]
Enemies: [member="Tarek'Gor"]
Objective: Locate outpost or follow pirates

"Commodore Romm, you just can't stay away from me, can you?" Perla teased in a husky voice. When he asked about her locating an Outpost, she responded: "I haven't seen anything...," she trailed off as she picked up on the Ghoul Class Frigate on her ship's radar. "Until now." The pirate ship was making haste into the thick nebula and would require a gentle touch in steering her freighter through both the asteroids and the swirling gases. In the mist she could see from the view out of the bridge the Outpost that the pirates had cleared from earlier. She brought her ship in close and sat in front of it. "I've located an Outpost. Commodore, do you want me to destroy it?"

 

[Tarek'Gor]

OOC: We are all in different locations ATM. Aim to converge as this thread progesses?

Location: Ghoul Class Frigate
Allies: Pirates (NPC Borch in nearby Frigate)
Enemies: Primeval (Zambrano the Hutt, Condor, Perla Pirjo)
Objective:

• PRIMARY: Ambush and Capture or Disable the Deluge Class Frigate

__________________________________________________________


When the visage of [member="Zambrano the Hutt"] materialized on the Ghouls holo-projector Tarek felt himself holding back a natural revulsion at his hideous caricature. Tarek had dealt with Hutts before and was familiar with thier voracious and deviant appetites but this particular creature was by far the most vile he had ever seen. When the wyrm placed what looked like a humanoid hand in his mouth Tarek nearly gagged. Tarek waited for Zambrano and his Captain to finish their spiel then thought carefully before responding. Dealing with military was bad enough, but military under the command of a crazed Hutt put Tarek on edge. He didn't like dealing with individuals with jarred minds, they were unpredictable and often unreasonable. Tarek understood the application of cruelty, but his malevolence always had purpose behind it. With Zambrano the Hutt he suspected there was just malevolence, period.

"Zambrano the Hutt, I am Captain Durbileel" Tarek began giving his pirate name over the comm. Then he grinned and raised an eyebrow "I am afraid I must decline your request. You see I do not value authority. I value freedom, riches and women, all things I plan on taking from you". The transmission cut out as Tarek's ship moved into the thick cloud of nebulous gases.

The sensors aboard the Ghoul began to go blind and Tarek gave the command to sound general quarters. The two pirate ships were a hustle and bustle of activity as they prepared to fall upon the Deluge class frigate. Torpedoes were pushed into blast tubes, pirates donned boarding gear and prepped weapons. Blasters, carbines, vibroblades, stun rods and slave collars were the norm among the pirate boarders. All that remained was for the Deluge to fall into Tareks trap where the two frigates would overpower the lone blinded one.

Ideally Tarek hoped to capture the ship and enslave its crew as that would present an advantage against Zambrano's cruiser. But if capture was costly or improbable Tarek would rely on disabling the other cruiser, permanently knocking it out of the fight. He and Borch would then return at a later time to claim the ship and its crew after they had spent a few days alone in space. Tarek generally avoided destroying ships as he considered the destruction of a vessel and the death of its crew a waste of a potential resource. With that said however he was not averse to destroying a ship and capturing its escaping crew aboard their escape pods but only as a final resort.

And of course, if things went south the two frigates would withdraw deeper into the nebula, to regroup or abandon their efforts.

______________________________________________________________

As Tarek waited for the Deluge he watched out of his bridges viewport. With the frigates deep within the nebula, conventional detection techniques were all but useless and they had to rely on thier eyes. A small glint caught his attention but was gone before he could pinpoint it. It had been small whatever it was, no larger then a freighter, and certainly not the frigate he was waiting for.

"Borch can you spare two starfighters, I want you to check these coordinates" Tarek spoke over the comm as he punched in the approximate location of the glint he had seen. "Probably nothing but I want to be sure. Tell the pilots not to engage. Just get a visual and hightail back here"

"You got it Gorrie" Borch replied over the comm, his voice somewhat distorted from the nebulas interference.

 

[Zambrano the Starweird]

Location: The Thorn - Moving inward towards the heart of the rift, The Forward - Guarding the Thorn, The Bludgeon - Chasing after pirates
Allies: Primeval ([member="Condor"]?, [member="Perla Pirjo"])
Enemies: Pirates ([member="Tarek'Gor"])
Objective: Chase the Pirates, make way for mining ships

OOC: Will aim to converge yes, You gunna post Condor? Sorry about the wait guys, I was going to post last night but my Chromebook had been apprehended from me. Thank you for your patience! Hopefully after today, I maintain a more regular schedule for posting
______________________________________________________________________________________________

"Damn pirate scum. Let The Bludgeon know that they now have full permission for engagement and pursuit, and may belay any restraint until I give them a command otherwise."

"The Bludgeon actually just notified us sir, they are already cleared for engagement and pursuit at their discretion."

"Good, that means at least one Rear Admiral is doing his job, the Commodore however..."

"What sir?"

"You do not have authorization to speak any more."

"Yes sir."

Meanwhile aboard The Bludgeon, Commodore Romm resumed contact with the witch. "You are free to engage with the vessel.... hold on, we think they are launching starfighters in your direction. Be on alert, and try your best not to die please, we don't need more space debris to deal with in this decrepit system."With that the Commodore disengaged communication, just as the Rear Admiral knocked on the door. "Romm, get your ass back on the command deck, that's an order."The Commodore then resumed his command post, and gazed at the Captains rear.

The Bludgeon's contact with the rest of the Convoy was lost as it enter the nebular mass, and any sensor indications of the pirate vessel were lost. They now relied entirely upon sight to locate the pirates, and they were in a far more vulnerable position as far as conventional weaponry however. There was one aspect of the ship however that trumped anything the pirate vessel had in its long range arsenal. If they were planning on an ambush that would bring them within boarding range, then the Deluge would burn all engines into the nearest vessel for a shattering impact it was designed to survive... assuming its visual sensors were not destroyed before hand, in which case they are a totally blinded vessel incapable of fighting back. Eventually, boarding forces might be able to overrun those on board.

Back on The Thorn, Zambrano the Hutt continued to move objects out of the way of the system with his mind in the vong cruiser-analog, directing clouds of gas to move in certain directions that allowed the miners the ability to start their operations. The small vessel landed on asteroids, releasing miner in their suits, starting up the drilling. Next, Captain Slika having confirmed that the frigate was enroute to pursue the pirates, launched his own starfighters in front the vessel. There was an inherent weakness in these tiny vessels as well, that was quite similar to what the Frigate was facing now, albeit to a different extent: these craft should never be detached to far from the home ship, as they would lose communication with the mothership if they did. Especially with all the plasma interference that would jam their sensors and the like. The GG series were not known for the effective independence. They were launched however to protect the miners, and to discourage the pirates from entering the Cruiser/Corvette Convoy moving deeper into the system. If all went well, they would dig a path through the nebular right to the heart of the Chiloon Rift...

Going much farther than they were might cause a random encounter from something in the past...

 

[Zak Dymo]

Location: Asteroid Field
Objective: Identify Pirate Outpost
Allies: [member="Zambrano the Hutt"]
Enemies: Pirates, those who refute the truth of Sargon, and people who remove the "Do Not Remove" tag from pillows

---

Navigating an asteroid field was rather like skydiving without a parachute. It took a healthy tolerance for risk, mixed in generous helping of death wish, and topped it with a rush of blood to the head.

All this, for the promise of becoming an underlord? Correction: Maybe, possibly becoming an underlord. Underling was more like it.

What. The Hutt. Ever.

No pun intended. Well, no, actually he did. But, regardless, the Pantoran tween wasn't doing this to get in some good graces with a Hutt, and he damn sure wasn't doing this for some farkled merit badge. This Sith expected to get paid. Save the praises. Save the promises. Just send credits.

...or gift cards good for unlocking new levels on Angry Mynocks, because that's where the credits were going anyway.

For all the risk that the asteroid field represented, the boy suspected that there wouldn't be much need for very deep inspection. The asteroids were as much a danger to the pirates hiding here as for those who might come after them. Too deep a hideout and those risks would begin to outweigh the benefits.

Pirates were, after all, mostly concerned with their own bottom line.

Speaking of bottom line, the fighter that he'd been requisitioned was a Z-95 Headhunter for kark's sake. Or, at least, it was the frame of a Z-95. The engines were refurbished CEC thrusters, which might have actually been lawnmower engines for the lack of power they generated, and the internals were a cornucopia of generic off-the-shelf components. So, factory condition it was not. In any case, this thing had belonged in a museum for archaic starfighters back when his great-grandfather had been his age.

The youth drifted close to one of the larger asteroids. The third of such type that he'd inspected. He'd have moved on to a fourth, if not for a shadow that didn't quite match the contour of the surrounding crevices in the rock. Drifting down into the valley of the rough hewn ore, etched out through impact craters which were a monument to the danger of asteroid fields, the Pantoran monk pointed his starfighter into the face of a cave and saw something that didn't quite match the rest of the scenery.

It was an old GR-45 transport. Or pieces of one anyway. Cobbled together and anchored inside of the cavern to form a warehouse of sorts. A safehouse? Refueling depot?

Was it an outpost? Perhaps. It was certainly suspicious.

The only way he'd know would be to go take a look.

Which, there had better be a hangar. If he had to EVA to an airlock, he'd be charging Gangsta the Hutt time-and-half.

 

[Zambrano the Starweird]

Location: The Thorn - Moving inward towards the heart of the rift blocked by the sudden arrival of a ghost ship, The Forward - Guarding The Thorn from big scary ghost ship, The Bludgeon - Chasing after pirates aimlessly in the nebula
Allies: Primeval, [member="Perla Pirjo"], [member="Boo Chiyo"]
Enemies: Pirates ([member="Tarek'Gor"])
Objective: Chase the Pirates, make way for mining ships Investigate Ghost Ship?

Primeval Order's:

1. Available Agents are to disengage from their respective assignments if applicable, to re-engage and investigate the unidentified vessel.
2. The Pirate Hunt has been left to The Bludgeon to deal with due to it's radio silence.
3. Mining Vessels and Fighter Escorts are to remain behind the Convoy to maintain distance with the unidentified vessel.

OOC: Happy hunting
______________________________________________________________________________________________


"We've officially lost contact with The Bludgeon, it's up to the Rear Admiral to find those unruly pirates." Admiral Thetsh said along side his Vice-Admiral to Captain Slika. "So far the operation, minus the pirates strongholds, are going smoothly. Primeval mining craft are making their way in system through the debris the Warlord is clearing, and starfighters are now on duty. However, we must make sure that they do not lose contact with The Thorn, which means you will have to stay behind while we charge forward into the void. This is a dangerous mission Captain... if the Directory is lost, we expect you will be the one to replace it. Is that understood?" Wordless, the Captain merely nodded. "Good. I expect the operation to be prepared for construction craft upon our return."

"I would not hope of you to expect anything-"

"Captain! You are needed immediately." An aid rapped their hand quickly across the door with great urgency.

"I thought I-"

"Captain, I believe you should listen to him..." The Admiral said with a bewildered look, before taking hold of a speaking device and shouting into the device. "All hands on deck! Battlestations! Battlestations! A Capital Ship has entered the fold, possibly Mandalorian in origin, I repeat, possibly a Mandalorian incursion!" With that the Admiral cut out, and the bewildered Captain Slika was sent racing out of the conference room and onto the command deck to observe the nose end of a huge vessel creeping out from behind a cloud of nebular gas. It was a Concordia-Class Dreadnaught... yet it seemed to be a 1.5 kilometer long rust heap, as if it had been set adrift into the nebulous space for some unmeasured amount of time. It was clear that the vessel had a very high likelihood it was defunct, but with a ship that size one doesn't mess around or make assumptions.

Captain Slika pulled out a communications device and ordered mining vessels to disengage and back off, with fighter escorts. Orders were being flown across the room as Zambrano the Hutt stood amongst it all. A full beaming smile filled with slime, mucus, and blood stretched across his concealed face, beneath the Cognition Hood his awareness extended beyond the simple confines of his plagued mind. He wasn't the pilot of the ship... he literally was the ship. It was excellent therapy for the current problems afflicting his mind, and gave him a good sense of how one controls the force, despite the Dovin Basals being anything but the force. They pushed and pulled things based off of gravitic manipulation, but the principles of manipulation were useful for an Acolyte like himself to learn. Suddenly, as he was clearing more debris with bliss... he stumbled upon an unfamiliarly large object. It had been assumed they carried the biggest military vessels in the system... apparently they were dead wrong. Not that this mattered to the Hutt, this wasn't actually in truth his operation, but the Directory's... he just played the crucial figurehead of his own regime.

Still though, witnessing a massive ship like this was no laughing matter, despite his giggles, and Captain Slika, along with Admiral Thetsh knew this well. Unfortunately the Rear Admiral was too with pirates to know much of what was going on, along with trying to keep the Commodores hands out of The Bludgeon Captains pants. Communications with the fort Condor was in also seemed to be lost, probably temporarily, but then again most agents like the new pantoran 'Boo' might be facing similar problems due to the bountiful debris. Unfortunately for the few enjoying their escapades, any of them available would be recalled to deal with... this.

"Hail that ship!" Captain Slika pointed at the vessel aggressively, commanding just as much physically as he was verbally.

"No response sir." Grunting, the Captain observed the seemingly lax state the giant junk heap seemed to be in... no star fighters, no turbo laser fire, and there was no response from the hail. A pirate distraction perhaps? No... this was too large. Pirates are small ships... only a few of them in a band. There was no way they could collect and be organized to run a military vessel of Mandalorian caliber... unless they were Mandalorians. Which was why this thing was worrying, though there were doubts it was in connection to the pirates seen earlier due to their lack of Mandalorian elements from what could be observed. It was strange though how the ship seemed to appear from no where... managing against logic to hide behind a cloud of gas

"Life forms?" Perhaps there could be some clue as to what this huge vessel was through the number of occupants it carried.

"I can't seem to get an exact number, but it's far fewer than the minimum crew count for a vessel of this category. Shall I belay orders for Agents to relocate, and mining vessels to return to their escorted duties?"

"Negative. Remain vigilant. Inform the Admiral of anything out of the ordinary you find immediately, I have something to attend to..."

 

[Armand Temi]

The Commodore didn’t reply back to her transmission but very soon Perla realized why. She listened to the next frantic call from the Admiral about a Capital Ship entering the atmosphere on the outskirts of the Rift. The Dathomir exile pushed her lateral thrusters into gear to get a good look at the Mandalorian battleship. She didn’t want to engage in a skirmish with just her freighter so she slowly drifted until she sighted the ship on both her radar and with her own brown eyes.

The ship was massive but was not well kept. Could it be a vessel to salvage, thought Perla and is this why there are so many pirates pooling around the Rift? Never one to turn up a chance to forage through a ship for droids, parts, credits or other valuables to sell, the witch initiate switched on her bioscanner and oddly there were signs of life aboard the rusted, ancient-looking Dreadnought. She religiously checked her ship's radar as well in case any of the pirates decided to sneak up on her.

[member="Zambrano the Hutt"] [member="Boo Chiyo"] [member="Tarek'Gor"]

 

[Zak Dymo]

Location: Asteroid Field (Crashed GR-45 Transport)
Objective: Infiltrate outpost and confirm target data
Allies: [member="Zambrano the Hutt"], [member="Perla Pirjo"]
Enemies: Pirates ([member="Tarek'Gor"])

---

A Chadra-fan stepped into the lounge, shouldering an illegally modified, subcompact blaster carbine as the arboreal rodent looked down at another of their species.

The small, bat-like pirate sat on the ground, legs splayed out and body slumped forward. A spent death stick rolled along the grated floor of the rusted freighter, as though having slipped there from the hand that now limply rested on the deck.

Chittering in a vulgar medley of metaphors which prominently featured the sleeping pirate's mother, the disgruntled guard lashed out with a foot to kick the unconscious man in the side. The clawed foot of the rodent-like creature connected with a solid thump, but the sleeping figure was unfazed. Disgusted, the diminutive alien learned forward, spitting on its compatriot before turning to continue on through the ship.

As the guards shadow passed along the wall, disappearing across the threshold into the adjacent compartment, the blue-skinned and white-clad figure emerged from behind a stack of crates and barrels. The boy's eyes narrowed as they followed where the guard had ventured off to, as though pausing to confirm that the man had continued on his way. Silently, the young Sith stepped over the body of the 'sleeping' pirate, slipping out the way that the guard had come.

As the boy's shadow passed over the Chadra on the floor, the pirate's body slowly sank further to the floor. The bat-like alien's head hung at an odd angle, the neck broken. Snapped at the third vertebrae, ensuring that his death had been as silent as it had quick.

Cautiously, the Pantoran slipped through the interior of the ship. His steps deliberate and eerily quiet as he moved across the metal grating. This ship appeared to be a refueling depot after all, and a warehouse of sorts. Some Chadra-fan smuggling operation. Probably small, but perhaps information about their network would be of some use to Gangsta the Hutt. Certainly, knowledge of what the pirate outpost had to offer was worth deciphering before targeting it with turbolasers.

As the boy crept through the husk of the debilitated transport, he paused to peer around a corner. Two Chadra-fan pirates, drinking over a sabacc game.

Weaving two fingers through the air, the Pantoran Sith looked past the guards. The corridor on the other side of the two echoed with the sound of some strange clanging, prompting both men to turn their heads away from their game. And the hallway in which the blue-skinned assassin slipped down to a door which ought to lead him to the main computer library.

Stacks of circuits and datacard readers were arranged underneath thick layers of dust, which blanketed the room as though it were the ruin of an ancient tomb. And Boo some archaeologist on some damn fool idealistic crusade.

Well, to be fair... the idealistic crusade part would actually be rather accurate.

As the Pantoran went to work, pulling datacards and looking for the master memory in the ship's databank, he noticed a small light flashing on the interior side of the wristlink he wore. Examining his surroundings for a moment, the youth brought his arm up by his ear as he listened to the muted audio coming through.

"A...pital...as en... fold, possibly Mandal... origin..."

The signal was being scattered by the asteroid field. And the durasteel plating of the transport was interfering with what little was getting through. It was garbled, but enough that the Pantoran got the gist. Something had just happened.

Something involving the Mandalorians.

Tucking the datacards away, the boy turned toward the door back out into the hall. The two Chadra-fan were now engrossed in some argument over how a hand had been dealt. Without the need for obfuscation, the Pantoran silently slipped into the shadows.

He needed to make his way off this rock, and then get a look at just what was going on outside.

 

[Tarek'Gor]

Location: Ghoul Class Frigate
Allies: Pirates (NPC Borch in nearby Frigate)
Enemies: Primeval ([member="Boo Chiyo"][member="Perla Pirjo"][member="Zambrano the Hutt"])
Objective:

• PRIMARY: Ambush and Capture or Disable the Deluge Class Frigate
• PRIMARY: Investigate the Dreadnought

___________________________________________________________________

When the Dreadnought first appeared Tarek thought the nebulous clouds of the rift were playing a trick on his eyes. But it was no shape in the clouds, the ship was real. Tareks mouth hung open. The massive warship changed the entire scope of the conflict. Tarek also found himself wondering what treasures the massive warship held within and what dangers.

"Borch are you seeing this?! Frell the frigate, weve got bigger fish to play with" Tarek said over his comm.

The two pirate frigates punched their engines and sped deep into the cover of the nebulous clouds avoiding detection in its midst. Navigating by the sight of the dreadnought the two captains gave the Primeval ships a wide berth as they made their way closer to the dreadnought.

 

[Zak Dymo]

Location: Z-95 Headhunter, Asteroid Field
Objective: Investigate Mandolorian ship
Allies: The Primeval ([member="Zambrano the Hutt"], [member="Perla Pirjo"])
Enemies: Pirates ([member="Tarek'Gor"])

---

The quad-engine starfighter rocketed out from beneath the shadow of a large asteroid.

Orbiting the celestial rock, the azure-skinned pilot turned his head to watch as two flashes of light were reflected in the glass of the cockpit's canopy. Small explosives, designed to break the airlock seals and create micro-ruptures in the hull. It wouldn't damage the G-45 transport, at least not all that much. It would, however, vent the pressurized atmosphere into space.

There was no sense leaving any pirates alive, let alone at his back.

As for the transport, after Gangsta the Hutt or one of his underlord... underling... underwear people could review the data tapes that the Pantoran was carrying, and decide for themselves if there was anything worth retrieving from the pirate refueling depot. Or use it for target practice. Or just leave it. Just another hunk of rusting durasteel floating in space, a spacefarer's tomb.

Leveling off, the Pantoran monk allowed inertia to take hold. The starfighter coasted across the asteroid field, while the purple-haired boy cycled through the sensor readings to try and get some idea of just what had happened while he'd been inside of the pirate depot.

There was definitely a large ship out here that hadn't been there when he'd gone off the grid.

Ignoring the screen, the youth took hold of the controls and ratcheted back the throttle.

...and waited for the Corellian pieces of poodoo that someone had installed in lieu of the factory Incom ion drives to catch up. Seriously, thrust generation on this thing was a thing to be desired. Banking through a scattered field of rock and debris, the small Sith went in for a closer look at the new ship.

He could see what the commotion had been about. The ship was definitely Mandolorian. At least, the design was Mandolorian. That ship looked like something that had been floated from out of scrap yard however. More to the point, as the Z-95 began it's fly-by of the strange craft, the specifics of the design began to reveal a complication.

"There's no hangar," the young monk announced over the commlink, cursing under his breath for the revelation. He carried environmentally sealed gear for just this occasion, but he hated space walks. "We'll have to go in through one of the airlocks."

Definitely going to be charging Gangsta the Hutt time-and-a-half for this.

 

[Zambrano the Starweird]

Location: The Thorn - Approaching the Ghost Ship, The Forward - Guarding The Thorn from big scary ghost ship, The Bludgeon - Chasing after pirates aimlessly in the nebula
Allies: Primeval, @Perla Pirjo, @Boo Chiyo
Enemies: Pirates (@Tarek'Gor)
Objective: Investigate Ghost Ship

Primeval Order's:

• Available Agents are to investigate the unidentified vessel, but first a way through must be sliced through the hull.
• The Pirate Hunt has been left to The Bludgeon to deal with due to it's radio silence, it is currently attempting to follow the seemingly feeling pirate vessels
• Mining Vessels and Fighter Escorts are remaining behind the Convoy

OOC: Ahhh that felt good.
______________________________________________________________________________________________

Commodore Romm liked what he saw... he didn't quite particularly like the look she was giving him though. Obviously though if he worked his fake Corellian charms he'd get her... he'd need a bottle of Corellian spirit though, and since last night he was fresh out. Suddenly he felt a quick knee into his sack, causing him to buckle over.

"My apologies Commodore, I guess I just get a little jerky when in close quarters with you. Now if you'd kindly allow me to resume my duties-"

"Heh, what's the rush Captain? The Pirates are runnin' scared they don't-"

"Romm, if I have to get your ass one more time I swear to the gods I'm going to throw you out an airlock. Put your rank back in your pants and monitor this damn situation... I don't even know why we brought you along."

"Is it because-"

"No, it's not. It's because you're a gods damn horny moron with a silver tongue and an impressive resume. Now pull your head out from under the Captains skirt, the agents skirt, the deckhand's skirt, or any other karkin' skirt in this fleet or-"

"Ya, ya, you'll incarcerate me or something."

"No, I'm going to castrate you... the gods know you need it..."

After that minor kerfuffle within The Bludgeon's shaky leadership, the chase after the pirates continued, the Deluge-class frigate noticing through its visual ports the indicators that the vessels were making a b-line out of the frigates direction and towards some other anomaly the ship could not yet detect... although soon, it would be clear why the pirates made such a post-haste turn away from the Primeval warship. There was a bigger fish to fry.

Several minutes ago, aboard The Forward, a stray agent left in reserve was now being called into service, after the 'All hands on deck' announcement by the Admiral. The mission was clear for him, figure out what the kark was going on with that ship. Exactly what that entailed, would be difficult, but she would find out upon entering the fray surrounding the hubbub of the aged Mando'a vessel.

"There's no hangar, we'll have to go in through one of the airlocks." She heard over her com link. Wonderful, more space ops. Could this mission get any more complicated? They came her for a 'routine' sweep of the system, by pushing debris out of the way to grant protection for mining vessels from pirates, which included eliminating bands of them in outposts, before encountering a small convoy of vessels chased into the nebula, before finally encountering a massive ghost ship without a karkin' hangar. The only thing they needed now was time travel to make this whole thing complete...

Which wasn't far from the truth really...

 

[Zak Dymo]

Location: Z-95 Headhunter Lackluster Performance
Objective: Investigate Mandolorian ship
Allies: The Primeval ([member="Zambrano the Hutt"], [member="Perla Pirjo"])
Enemies: Pirates ([member="Tarek'Gor"]), whoever or whatever is on this ship (most likely)

---

The boy made a second pass on the strange ship, the oddest part of the whole situation being that it wasn't shooting at him. Not that the Pantoran intended to just hang up and wait for the Mandolorian ship to correct that oversight. Swooping in closer to the ship, the young monk began scanning for indications of a good place to moor the starfighter. As he skimmed across the surface of the capital ship, the sight of the pitted hull and deteriorated weapon batteries gave further indication that there was something rotten in Ord Mantell.

Applying reverse thrust to zero his inertia, the boy adjusted himself in the pilot seat so that he was actually standing on his knees with his head peeking up to see over the nose of the starfighter as he maneuvered the small craft to a flat surface that was close to an airlock. The aerospace plane rocked as it latched down against the ship.

With a sigh, the tween sank back into the pilot's chair, letting his gangly legs kick out in front of him so that he was splayed across the cockpit in a moment's respite.

Hannibal the Hutt wasn't paying him enough for this karking poodoo.

Sliding on the full face helmet, the youth struggled for a moment to snap the head covering into the metal collar around his neck. After the helmet was secured in place, the boy pressurized the flightsuit and checked his O2 readings. Then he popped the cockpit to the Headhunter and found himself floating free.

With the vast emptiness of space in every conceivable direction.

Shutting his eyes tightly against the sudden vertigo, the Pantoran stretched out with his hand and wrestled with his own demons of doubt and fear as he attempted to latch onto the ship through the Force, and pull himself toward it.

He let out a sigh of relief when his gloved hand brushed against a solid object, recognizing it as the Mandolorian ship even before he'd opened his eyes. He kept his gilded gaze on the hull plating in front of him. Stars were a beautiful thing to look at from a cockpit, where astrogation panels assured you which way was Galactic North. In a space walk, it was maddening how space became an endless plane in which any direction in which you looked was the same. A black void, punctuated by the dying light of a handful of stars.

Arriving at the airlock, the boy gave another sigh. Drawing the lightsaber from off his belt, a harsh red light illuminated his white suit as the Pantoran crouched down and began going to work on disrupting the controls maintaining the mechanical seal on the door.

He'd rather not carve through the hull, just so he could enjoy some pressurized atmosphere on the inside. Assuming there was such a convenience awaiting him inside.

 

[Zambrano the Starweird]

Location: The Thorn - Approaching the Ghost Ship, The Forward - Guarding The Thorn from big scary ghost ship, The Bludgeon - Chasing after pirates aimlessly in the nebula
Allies: Primeval, [member="Perla Pirjo"], [member="Boo Chiyo"]
Enemies: Pirates ([member="Tarek'Gor"])
Objective: Investigate Ghost Ship

Primeval Order's:

• Available Agents are to investigate the unidentified vessel, but first a way through must be sliced through the hull or something like that
• The Pirate Hunt has been left to The Bludgeon to deal with due to it's radio silence, it is currently attempting to follow the seemingly fleeing pirate vessels
• Mining Vessels and Fighter Escorts are remaining behind the Convoy

OOC: Sorry!

______________________________________________________________________________________________

The anonymous Primeval Agent entered the huge vessel much in the same way that Boo Chiyo had, only without the vertigo. She hadn't contacted the others yet, but upon entering she soon would. If she was supposed to enter a spooky ship, she would need backup, and she needed to know backup's name first. Nothing like a good old haunted vessel to create a team bonding experience! There wasn't much to say on the matter, everything look as ordinary as it could in this situation... although she was receive reports that the pirates had exited nebular, making a direct B-line towards the Concordia vessel... and so far no reports of The Bludgeon in direct pursuit.

For some reason, that didn't bode well with the Captain of The Thorn, despite Admiral Thetsh's calm demeanor on the situation. Surely they had gone over their heads now, that had bitten off more than they could chew. The project was too ambitious, they were trying to do too much too soon all at once. They should have cleared all the pirates first, before proceeding with the operation, then use The Thorn to clear debris for the mining vessels. What was the rush? Why all the risk involved with going deeper? There was an abundance of resources all around, what was so interesting about the center? This was the matter to which the Captain would attend to, in a private holocall with Thetsh, that was more secure, and private. Away from the distractions of petty officers distracting him with the appearance of ghost ships.

"Thetsh, things aren't looking good. Why don't we pull out now, and just skim-" The Captain was cut off, but a still calm, yet still stubborn Thetsh.

"Everything shall continue as we've gone. The operation is running smoothly, and-" Speaking informally as friends, rather than soldiers, the Captain interjected.

"Smoothly?! How many agents have we lost already in the nebula, fighting off pirates, or let's not forget that we're missing a whole karking Frigate! That's not even to mention this bull-" The conversation was riddle with interruption it seemed, the Captain was quite passionate, and the Admiral had higher things to attend to, then explaining everything to his close friend.

"These were risks I was willing to take for our objective here." Stubborn as ever in his resolve.

"Oh? Are you willing to kindly elaborate on precisely what the Directory's objective here is? We can accomplish what you ask on the outskirts of this rift, why all the trouble of clearing a path to the center? What's so important about the heart? Why all the risk?" The Admiral reacted to his friends distraught behavior in the same manners he always did. He knew Slika as well as the back of his hand, and almost expected this out of him, but that was the interesting thing about the Captain, the Admiral couldn't always pin him down. There was always something the man chose to be passionate about. Today, it was the question "Why?". With a sigh, the Admiral gave the Captain some of the information he needed.

"That ship, undoubtedly sailed too closely to the center; would you like to know what happened to it?" Before the Captain could explain his confusion of the relevance of that statement, the Admiral continued. "It became a Ghost Ship, a relic out of time, something rendered ripped from its present year. Where do you think all those ghost ships came from? I intend to make Ghost Ships of my own, Captain. Am I dismissed?"

Apparently, that was rhetorical, and the Admiral left the Captain in a state of minor annoyance. They were friends, it did not mean they can't be annoying sometimes. Back in the perspective of the Primeval Agent, she sniffed in the stale air through her helmet, protecting her from any potentially harmful atmosphere within the ship. Her sensors did not detect anything nefarious, and thus decided she would report this.

"This is Agent Alice, I'm onboard, no hostiles, the environment seems a bit stale but should safe of toxins... seems rather low. I don't expect much to be alive around here, anyone else have anything to add to that assessment?"