Secure Alpha Elevator

[Macharius Solaire]

There was a plan. A cunning and subtle one. As cunning as a fox who had just been appointed Professor of Cunning at Coruscant University. For who would expect an attack on a cargo depot from within the very cargo transports that tend to such a facility? No one that's who. Because they weren't expecting anything at all. The wars were far away and pirates would never attack such a heavily defended facility. An intrepid team of mercenaries would though. Ones after credits and arms from their wealthy employer.

The transport was nearing the stations docking bay and should arrive within a few minutes. The promised supplies were aboard, protocol codes in check, a manifest to hand over to the one man running the station. If everything went smoothly.

Macharius appeared before the team as a holographic image in the cargo hold of their freighter. "Gentlemen. I see your nearing the station. Everything is arranged to get you in. So just leave it to the droid pilot for that. Once the ramps down though is where we get risky. The place should be crawling with droid workers and some security. Shouldn't be a big bother so just don't go shooting up the place and keep your guns holstered.

The objective is to secure the station operator and shut down the security system. Bring him the cargo manifest. He'll be in a control room somewhere in the back of the bay. Try and do this before you set off the alarm. Mechis is a droid foundry. That place probably has a few hundred, maybe in the thousands of battle droids to deploy against you. And billions down on the ground. So stick to the plan and you'll get through this and get your reward. I'll check in with you latter. Mach out."

The freighter pulled in past the shielding and set down on the metal floor plating. Crates of various sizes littered the hanger bay. Droid workers were moving about tending to their duties. Several large overhead cranes were in operation as well. Far across the bay a large piece of transparisteel glass about three stories high was easily visible. That was the control room. Steam blew out as the ramp lowered down. You mercenaries are on your own for the time being.

Ongoing Objective. Make it to the Control Room.

[member="Ghorua the Shark"]
[member="Delain Afric"]
[member="Desmond C'artyom"]
[member="Grigori Tarasov"]
[member="Thicer"]

 

[Grigori Tarasov]

The sound of silence was the only thing that was present across the seats of the transport, except for the occasional thrashing of metal. The shuttle was heading towards the volcanic planet of Mechis III, known for its cutting-edge droid mass-producing and technology. The planet is home to the galaxy's famous droid manufacturers, as the factories did have automated systems implanted that were highly advanced enough for the production. The most well-known feature of the planet was the Mechyards, a colossal shipyard circling around Mechis III. It also has a large number of shipyard industries around stationed on its platforms.

A loud clunk was heard as the transportation shuttle landed on the surface of the station's hangar, followed by noises of factory droids and machinery. It was only then when a zap was heard on a holo-projector nearby, revealing a figure of the client. The man wore clothes that of an executive of a company, identifying himself as Macharius Solaire. Macharius briefed the objectives to the group of mercenaries as they started to get suit up, regarding the area's security system.

Grigori had always been up for the work, getting big amount of credits was pretty common to him since he worked as a freelancer back then. The adrenaline rushing as he seems to have a thought where he would be using his maneuvers again after a short break on the job. He never learned to underestimate the opponents that may come, even droids. That way, he would recognize its pros and cons, making it easier to write up a strategy against them. Tarasov suited himself in charcoal full-body tights with corresponding body armor padding covering the upper body and several points on the lower. His personal mask slung to cover his identity, resembling a pale skull that of a howlrunner's. He knew himself that this would be another child's play.

" Our money's waiting right there, boys. Come on. " he gestured to his comrades.


[member="Macharius Solaire"]
[member="Ghorua the Shark"]
[member="Delain Afric"]
[member="Desmond C'artyom"]
[member="Thicer"]

 

[Lucien Galtier]

I stare out of the viewport at the great planet below. Mechis III. Its surface tinged red by the iron oxidizing deep within its crust.

Other then this I know very little about the planet. Besides the fact they produce stupid amounts of droids.

I never trusted machines. Damn clankers were everywhere and if they decided to revolt there wouldn't be much we could do about it.

Nonetheless this man hired me for a job and the Imperial Remnant didn't pay enough to live how I want too.

A sudden memory of twin twileks and an expensive glass of chardonnay entered my mind. Oh yes, the Imperials didn't pay me nearly enough.

I shook my head and the memory of last weeks R&R dissipated. I had a job to do. Not nearly worth it, but freelance work was hard to come by.

The ship descended to an obsolete looking shipyard and began its docking procedure. The vessel descended and the shuttle bay doors opened with a hiss.

I pointed my blaster around, but the droids seemed to mostly ignore me.

“Let’s go find that operator and get paid…”

[member="Macharius Solaire"]
[member="Grigori Tarasov"]
[member="Ghorua the Shark"]
[member="Delain Afric"]
[member="Thicer"]

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

LOCATION: ABOARD A FREIGHTER, OVER MECHIS III
EQUIPMENT: IN BIO
CURRENT MOOD: PROFESSIONAL

The cargo area of the freighter had become Ghorua's home for the past few hours. Crates of mismatched cargo and parts became furniture, and bleak walls became tapestries to entertain him. Of course, after the first fifteen minutes of sitting on a box of droid parts, staring at a dent in the door, Ghorua began to hate the area. Sadly, it was the only area that could fit him comfortably.

Ghorua the Shark crossed his arms as he watched [member="Macharius Solaire"] speak via hologram, keeping his mouth firmly shut. He still had his doubts about this mission. Something didn't quite sit right with him, but whatever it was, it eluded him. Perhaps it was the hairline mistake one of them had to make for this mission's difficulty to spike drastically. Perhaps it was the fact that he didn't know or trust most of the crew that had been put together. Perhaps it was simply the fact that this was a new place, and his only possible escape was on the ship he now stood within.

First, [member="Grigori Tarasov"] spoke up, dressed in all black. Ghorua appreciated the color choice. Not too long ago, he wore pitch-black armor himself. Since then, he'd switched after acquiring his new armor, but the man's choice brought back years of memory. Then, the cargo doors opened, and Ghorua surveyed the area. Bleak. The Shark then heard the enthusiastic assurance of [member="Lucien Galtier"], and couldn't help but smile. One did have to keep their eyes on the prize, after all.

Ghorua locked the helmet of his armor firmly into place, blinking as the HUD hummed to life. He felt his hips, making sure his twin slugthrowers were there, as a slight reassurance. His oldest blaster, the Spinster, rested across his back, and a long, collapsible phrik pole hung at his side. Trident currently had no crystal in it, but the phrik staff would still do enough damage in the hands of a 10'5'' goliath.

Ghorua looked to the others gathered, and chuckled under his helmet. "I'll stay with the ship. If this mission is as easy as Mr. Solaire seems to think it is, you guys should be able to handle intimidating the guy. If it does go sour, however, this ship is our only escape, and I'd like to keep it in one piece." The Herglic laughed again, deep and resonant.

"Besides, I'm sure the operator would get jumpy if he saw me."