Taking Back What's Mine

[Noah Corek]

[member="HK-36"] [member="Jorus Merrill"] [member="Delila Castillon"] [member="Thom Betna"] [member="Runi Verin"]

In Orbit Around Korbin-Edge of First Order Space
The Solomon
Captains Cabin

Noah sighed as he took another sip from his caf before immediately regretting it. It had gone cold long ago, a testament to how long Noah had been staring at the holoprojector in front of him. On the holoprojector was a portion of galaxy, more precisely a region just on the edge of First Order space. As Noah stared at the projector the image shifted again. This time five planets were connected by a line, Taloraan, Kayri, Fenessa, Yn and Korbin. For the last six months Noah had been silently moving his company, Hekler'Kok Defense Industries, from it outlying worlds of Taloraan, Kayri and Yn to Fenessa. From there much of the equipment had been moved from Fenessa to the planet Noah was currently in orbit around.

Unfortunately most of the equipment was only the light stuff that could be carried away by light and medium freighters had been taken away and now the only thing left to do was to bring out the big stuff. While Noah didn't have freighters large enough to do that himself. And that's where having friends came in. Noah had contacted more than a few contacts from his Republic days, put feelers out to mercenaries and bounty hunters and called a few friends. But now was finally the time. "Ensign Moore, send the message out." Noah said into his comm to the Solomon's comm officer who was currently on the bridge. Now all there was to do was wait.

 

[Jorus Merrill]

[member="Noah Corek"]

Though the Wretched Hive did a little business on the edges of First Order space, Korbin was a new one to Jorus. He hadn't even been here during the long Neutral Zone conflict between the Underground, Omega, and the Fringe. A quiet place, Korbin, not terribly important. Corek had chosen a really good spot to collate Hekler'Kok.

The downside, though, made him nervous. This basket held a lot of eggs.

A Lotekk-class deep space transport sidled up to Corek's far smaller frigate. The Lotekk DST, an armed freighter the size of a Star Destroyer, was gray and vaguely cylindrical. Though it couldn't match a Connestoga for cargo volume, it offered plenty of storage and infinitely better survivability. It also happened to be atmosphere-capable.

"Solomon, this is the S.S. Gossamer. Ready to begin cargo lift, over."

 

[Runi Verin]

[member="Noah Corek"] [member="Jorus Merrill"]

Like a minnow circling beneath a pair of giant mythical nabooian sea creatures, the Boracyk slowly drifted into formation with the two larger vessels. With her engines whining softly as they retained their charge and her hyperdrive spooled and ready, it wouldn't have taken much for Runi to put this whole crazy little scheme behind her. A few keyed buttons, a flick of a lever and a rush of stars. She wagered she could be at least six systems away before they noticed she had arrived, let alone vanished back into the swirling roil of hyperspace.

Mercenary contracts.

Kark. Was it back really back to this? The Mandalorian scavenger pursed her lips into a thin line, eyes hardening as they re-read the job proposal for the countless time since it had crossed her channel. Replaying the memories of when her last foray into the mercenary lifestyle hadn't exactly panned out as promised. A combination of bad intel and broken promises had left her with a marker she'd only just dragged herself out from under - And she still hadn't received her portion of the pay!

And that's what it really boiled down to. What it always boiled down to. Credits and the ever apparent lack there of. With the constant turmoil across the rest of the galaxy, and regimes like the First Order and the Galactic Empire spinning their webs and raising tariffs, it was getting awfully expensive to keep on flying the hyperlanes. If Corek and his di'kutla plan could elevate that, even for a few weeks, it had to be worth the risk, right?

"<<This is the Independent Freighter Boracyk out of Kol Atorn.>>" She keyed in introduction, leaning over to flip her transponder to the correct identification. "<<Captained by Runi Verin. I hear tale that you got a job that needs doin' an' creds to spare.>>"

 

[Thom Betna]

Thom Betna was laying on his small cot, in his small captain's quarters, aboard his small freighter. The Eyderon was, without a doubt, a small freighter. His crew was as few as possible to keep the ship going. Truth be told, the young Mandalorian was struggling for credits. He had been doing odd jobs here and there for a while after the destruction of Mandalore, which is exactly how he became the captain of his vessel. Transport runs could reward well, it was told.

Now, the Eyderon was nearing Korbin space, just a few moments away. Thom swung his legs out and off the side of the cot, stood himself upright, and made for the bridge. Each of his few crew members turned their heads as the door to the bridge opened, revealing their captain. Each nodded their head, with his navigator blurting out, "Almost there, cap'in. Just a couple sec'ins now." Thom nodded his head and walked himself over to his usual spot, letting his eyes glaze over as he went over the proposal for the job he was undertaking in his head. Before he could even complete his train of thought, the image of two larger ships filled his vision. The same man said, "We here, cap'in." With the obvious out of the way, Thom leisurely walked to his communications table, pressed down a button and began transmitting, "Solomon, this is the Eyderon responding to the job proposal. Ready to continue when you give the word." Ending his transmission and slowly stepping back to his spot, he noticed that there was a third vessel as his grew closer. "Now that one's more like our size." The captain grinned at his own joke, and the Eyderon slowly crept toward the Boracyk.


[member="Runi Verin"] | [member="Jorus Merrill"] | [member="Noah Corek"]

 

[HK-36]

[member="Noah Corek"], [member="Thom Betna"], [member="Runi Verin"], [member="Jorus Merrill"],


Meanwhile In The Deep Space,
Outside of FO Borders,


The droid would not join Noah and others on their venture in person, at least not yet. After all, if the machine showed up aboard one of the cargo haulers sent to help Noah, the First Order whom he was fairly active at fighting in the past would definitely found it rather suspicious. Instead the droid was aboard one of his Eclipse-class Stealth Corvettes, looking through the ship's hangars and the list of ships and soldiers brought aboard the craft. It wasn't enough to lay siege to a planet or probably not even conduct a proper sabotage raid, but what the droid brought was a back up plan.

If things went terribly wrong and First Order turned hostile against the cargo haulers hired by Noah, as the machine expected they would, he would be ready to step in and at the very least cause some distractions so that his friends would be able to escape safely. For now, however, the machine and the forces he brought with him would remain aboard the stealth corvette, sitting silently in the middle of Deep Space, outside of First Order sensor range and patrols, just sitting in real-space, waiting.

That was not the full extend of the help the droid would bring as ahead of time the machine let @Ra'a'mah and [member="Aeshi Tillian"] know about Noah's plan, wanting the two to get involved and bring their own cargo haulers to help with whatever Noah needed moving. After all both had access to larger civilian cargo moving vessels like Space Hulks and had companies with specific job of cargo transport without any ties to military organizations or operations, at least not official ones. Hopefully they followed through with his instructions of being especially careful not to break any ordinances they would have to follow to go through the First Order border and out easily, no soldiers outside of the usual corporate security, no starfighter envoy, no other capital ships as escort, just a clean cargo hauling job, nothing less, nothing more.

 

[Delila Castillon]

[member="HK-36"] | [member="Thom Betna"] | [member="Runi Verin"] | [member="Jorus Merrill"] | [member="Noah Corek"]



Delila sat next to Merrill, hitching a ride. Bringing her personal vessel would be a mistake. Anything attached to her current employer, the Free Worlds Collation, would also be a huge mistake. Besides, when was the last time she got to hang out with Jorus? It had been during the FWC meeting when she had stuffed tea sandwiches down her throat as if they were going out of style.


Personally she didn't understand why Corek didn't hire a private company to do this. Her going rate wasn't cheap. A few beers and pizza wasn't going to settle the debt of helping the kid move.


A piece of spiced nerf jerky entered her mouth as she debated, leaning back in the navigation chair. Bag was extended over to Merrill as an offering to have some as well.


"This is like moving on steroids."

 

[Noah Corek]

[member="Jorus Merrill"] [member="Runi Verin"] [member="Thom Betna"] [member="Delila Castillon"] [member="Robogeber"] [member="HK-36"]

Noah cracked the stiff bones in his neck as he entered the bridge of the Solomon and looked around. The bridge crew were busy shuffling around making final preparations for the jump to Fenessa. An ensign came up to him and handed him a datapad and a cup of caf. Smiling and nodding for him to be dismissed Noah sat down in the captain's chair and looked over the datapad. Noah preferred getting the status report on his ship in the form of a datapad because it allowed the bridge crew to go on with their duties without him interrfering in their duties.

According to the datapad just a little over a few minutes ago the final ship for the hauling operation had arrived in system and responded that they were ready to proceed. Sighing Noah swiped the info away and came to the systems report. Propulsion? Green. Weapons? Green. Life Support? Green. Sensors? Green. Hyperdrive? Spooled up and ready to jump to Fenessa on his word. Comms? Ready to relay any message that Noah needed to send.

Popping the joints once more in his neck Noah gave the navigation ensign the go to jump to hyperspace. According to the plan Noah would jump and then the rest of the rag-tag fleet would wait ten minutes before jumping. This allowed the Solomon to somewhat scout out the system and give a report to the fleet when they jumped into system. "Alright. Navigation take us out." Noah ordered, getting a nod from the navigation ensign who pulled the hyperspace lever and the brilliant streaks of stars passing by the viewport came.

One Hour Later

After a hour of stars streaking by the viewport it finally came to a end and the planet of Fenessa came into view. "Sensors. Scan the system. I don't want any surprises. Weapons and shields bring them up to full power encase we do have any surprises." The aforementioned ensigns nodded and began their duties. It was nearly a full minute before the sensor ensign spoke up. "Um sir we have a problem! We have a First Order starship in orbit around Fenessa." Noah rolled his eyes. Of course because what else would happen.

 

[Aeshi Tillian]

Moments later, a massive freighter dropped out of hyperspace, with Metal Lord markings. Emblazoned across its side in massive letters were the words Starbound Hope. On its bridge, Aeshi Tillian, or the Metal Lady that she had become, stood at the controls. A mixed crew of droids and humans bustled about the deck.

“Captain Tillian and Tillian Family Enterprises are here for a freight contract.”

She sent the message to the other ships in the fleet, after having received the message from @HK-36. A contingent of smaller freighters clustered around its sides, all others belonging to the family.

“Where’s the cargo?”

“Aeshi!” A voice called. “First Order ship in orbit.”

The bionic woman frowned. It was still odd to hear servomotors in her body whenever she moved, but so be it. That could be adjusted to. And the Force, that too was different. More distant, as if her connection had lessened. She didn’t like it. Astrogation was more challenging and more imprecise like this.

There had to be a way to restore her back to the Force. She just had to find a way, even if it took her an eternity.

 

[Robogeber]

Location: Bridge of the FIV Predator
Objective: Oversee military exercises.
Allies: [member="Emilia Ravel"]
Directly Contacting: [member="Noah Corek"] | [member="Aeshi Tillian"]
Others: @Delila Castillion | [member="HK-36"] | [member="Thom Betna"] | [member="Runi Verin"] | [member="Jorus Merrill"] |
Theme: Aboard the Executor | John Williams

​

The FIV Predator massively outsized the other First Imperial vessels which clung to Fenessa's orbit. The hulking resurgent-ii class star destroyer was flanked on both starboard and portside by two large vanquisher-class destroyers. Smaller frigates, corvettes and cruisers scattered in the wake of the vessels, forming up into assault patterns as TIE fighters of all shapes and size ran attack patterns on imaginary enemies.

From the command deck, Fleet Admiral Carlyle Rausgeber watched the drill in silence. He could sense the anxious glances of the Predator's bridge crew, training their eyes on this anomaly amongst their midst. Rausgeber wasn't particularly well acquainted with these officers. They were newblood. Recruits and starry eyed children, who'd enlisted from Fenessa and the surrounding systems in the wake of the First Order's liberation of the sector. None of them had seen proper combat yet, and in the admirals mind, half of them hadn't even seen a naked member of the opposite sex, let alone bedded a lover. But that was the nature of war. The young had to be reaped to secure the future.

However, he would allow them to stare. To gossip and twitch at his every movement and stare. It was not everyday command was superseded by a droid purporting to be a war hero. For the Fleet Admiral, he'd found it quite amusing when the enthusiastic young ones, eager to meet the officer, had been met with the cold, calculating temperament of the droid. Since then, the crew had sat in near silence, only ever speaking as to confirm weapons systems among other things were operating, and the the captains of the escort vessels were in position. They were quick. They were fast. But they were sloppy. Planes of alignment weren't adhered to, and pursuit angling was a mystery to them. But Rausgeber would get them ready. He always would, always had been.

"CONTACT!" Roared a voice behind the admiral. The droid turned, its repulsorlift generator revving up as he did. The voice had come from the Sensor Officer, a young woman of just nineteen, "WE HAVE A-!" The woman paused, mouth agape. All blood rushing from her face until she was pale, her eyes transfixed on the quizzical stare displayed by the senior officer aboard. A beat of silence passed. "Contact." She finished, mutely, before licking her cherry red lips, and running a hand through her neatly plaited, auburn hair.

"Good." Rausgeber drily replied, "Identify the contacts for us." He said, "Number of contracts, size, type and approach vector." He coolly commanded to his subordinate. The young ensign buried herself into her terminal, while her colleagues turned their eyes on her, giving muted stares of sheepish embarrassment to her. The silence was deafening, with the only sound heard being the clatter of petite, manicured fingers on her terminal controls.

"Eight, sir." She breathed out, "One hammerhead model corvette," She said, reading out from her screen, "Coming in at point, three, dash, four, dash seven." She informed the Fleet Admiral, "The others are a group of freighters, centred around a larger one sir." The officer continued, her delivery increasing in speed with every word. And with every word her cheeks began to flush a violent red, "They're of various size, and class, but they're at two, dash four, nine, seven." She stopped, relieved, and swallowed a mixture of spittle and air, eyes locked with Rausgebers, waiting for some approval.

Carlyle nodded, asserting his acceptance of the information. The report was crude, yet still a practical assessment. Quick enough to be of some use in a combat situation, and legible. A much needed trait in these sorts of situations. "Well done ensign." Rausgeber replied, a smile pursing his monitor, "Now, to the next stage." He turned to the starboard crew pit, eyes locked on a small officer, no older than seventeen, "Comms, order Captain Elliotte to activate gravity wells." Rausgeber commanded, "I think we should reel in our catch, no?" He offered.

The Comms Officer nodded his head aggressively, and reached up to his earpiece, while simultaneously keying in the command key to reach the FIV Endeavour. "FIV Endeavour, this is FIV Predator." The midshipman began, "Imperator Actual has given the order to activate gravity wells." He paused, and nodded his head slowly, as if he were talking to someone in front of him. "Understood." The officers deep green eyes then slowly made their way up from the bottom of Rausgeber's body, to his head, "Captain Elliotte is activating them as we speak. Sir."

Rausgeber suppressed the urge to chuckle at the younger officers, it would be a little cruel to do that. However, he nonetheless found the younger officer, somewhat amusing to see at work. He would almost pull him up for it, but to the admiral, it was clear he was terrified. "So it begins." He coolly mused, before turning to the rear of the bridge. Eight figures, clad in black stormtrooper armour stood at the rear, silently observing the events transpiring. Skull Squadron always did that, having a menacing effect on anyone who attempted to enter, or leave any command deck Rausgeber was on. Classic First Order Security Bureau intimidation tactic. "Agent Ventor, move to the interception suite." Rausgeber commanded, "Order your colleagues there to find, and take any transmissions made by our new friends here, and prepare themselves for inspection operations."

The droids attention returned to the young Comms Officer, "Now," He gestured to the young boy, "Let's make contact with our friends." He paused again, letting his attention saturate the smaller officer. It was almost sadistic, "Protocol D-Thirty Two." He said, before turning again towards the viewport, and watching as the vessels began to appear in visual range.

Upon all open signals, the following transmission was broadcast over all open frequencies. "Unknown vessels, you have entered First Order space, and in accordance with this entry, you will follow the laws and regulations of its government." There was a pause, "As apart of the Astronavagational And Customs Act of 848 ABY, you are to adhere to any and all instructions given by military and government officials. Failure to follow these instructions may incur a financial penalty, prison sentence or immediate execution."

"Unknown vessels, you are to transmit your cargo manifest, intent of visitation and vessel registration." There was another pause, for those on the other end, it may have seemed almost as if to convey a hint of dramatic flair, but truth be told, it was the Comms Officer having forgotten his lines momentarily. "Power down your weapons, and hyperdrive, and proceed to sector forty two. Ready yourselves for inspection teams to be dispatched." The young officer then added something a little off the book, "Thank you for your cooperation."

 

[Madelyn Lowe]

Location: Cockpit of FIV Tortuga.
Objective: Direct boarding team.
Directly Contacting: [member="Robogeber"]
Allies: [member="Robogeber"]
Others: [member="Aeshi Tillian"] | [member="Noah Corek"] | [member="Delila Castillon"] | [member="HK-36"] | [member="Thom Betna"] | [member="Runi Verin"] | [member="Jorus Merrill"] |

At the helm of the FIV Tortuga, Emilia Ravel, Bureau Chief for the Security Bureau, sat at the controls of her stealth corvette. The vessel trailed lazily behind the fleet, not engaging in the drills and war games favoured by the Fleet Admiral, but instead waiting, watching, and listening. Its suite of sophisticated sensors fully extended and bristling from the circular arrays that wrapped around the ship's durasteel hull. As the gaggle of ships approached, the Tortuga's sensors were the first to detect them, pinging the alert to the FIV Predator even as the cockpit crew noticed the alert and heard the familiar whine of the klaxon.

Mere moments later, the voice of the Predator's Communications Officer crackled over the commlink, a standard message that warned the crew to prepare to be boarding, and to transmit the correct transponder codes and documentation. Smuggling was a problem on the fringes of First Order space, and expensive problem. A seemingly endless reserve of resources had been thrown at the problem, with mixed results. A formidible military presence could be found constantly patrolling the borders, searching for smugglers and criminals. Lately, Naval Task Forces were oft accompanied by Security Bureau personnel, most highly trained in radios, EWAR, and other support roles. While cooperating with Naval commanders, the FOSB detachments operated fairly independantly, dropping in and out depending on their assignment. This was how Emilia found herself with [member="Robogeber"] and the Sixth Fleet.

As the transmission ended with a hiss and pop, Emilia tore her eyes from the distant group of ships, instead turning to a panel beside her and engaging the ship's intercom. "Boarding team gear up." This was a practiced maneuvre, one that her crew had polished and refined after many long hours working along the borders. Even as her fingers left the intercom, a shuttle had departed from one of their support vessels, doubling back to meet the Tortuga and swiftly latching on to the ventral docking bay. Outside, a cohort of 20-or-so Stormtroopers had quickly armoured up, accompanied by a pair of FOSB field operatives. The troopers lined the hallway, ready to mount the shuttle and begin boarding the civilian ships.

Emilia activated comms with the Predator. "Fleet Admiral Rausgeber, Team 1 is ready to initiate boarding on your command." She hopped out of the chair, rushing to the armoury. She picked up her C-51, and a holster, which she attached to her thigh, and moved back into the corridor to prepare to board the shuttle.

 

[Jorus Merrill]

KORBIN
Immediate: [member="Delila Castillon"]

Others (Fenessa etc.): [member="Noah Corek"] [member="Runi Verin"] [member="Thom Betna"] [member="HK-36"] [member="Aeshi Tillian"] [member="Robogeber"] [member="Emilia Ravel"]


As most of the freighters jumped to hyperspace, the huge Lotekk DST aligned to follow. "Yeah, I hear that," said Jorus, accepting Dells' snacks gratefully. "Running this ship ain't-"

He froze with a piece of jerky halfway to his mouth.

"Something's about to go wrong. Not here." He gestured out the window with the jerky. "There. Fenessa." After years working together on and off, he didn't need to explain his abilities to Dells. The Force wouldn't do much for him, no lifting rocks or reading minds, but it always showed him the way to go. Everything he could do came back to instinctive astrogation, and right now, those instincts were telling him not to jump. Not now, not on that course, not to that destination.

"And gorrammit, I'd warn them but they're already there. Fenessa's only a stone's throw away." He raised his voice. "Flight control, send three scout fighters to Fenessa, two AU short of the reversion point. Something's happening and we need to know what."

In fairly short order, the little scout ships flickered off to the outer system of Fenessa. At some point in there, Jorus ate the jerky.

 

[Runi Verin]

[member="Jorus Merrill"] | [member="Emilia Ravel"] | [member="Robogeber"] | [member="Aeshi Tillian"] | [member="Noah Corek"] | [member="Delila Castillon"] | [member="Thom Betna"]​

A blackened litany of choice curses filled the cockpit as the Boracyk was rudely hauled from Hyperspace scant seconds before its intended reversion point, the little vessel lurching painfully as it found itself suddenly bereft of its speed and momentum. While her intuitive astrogation ability could be only considered nascent at best, she had been snared in enough gravity well traps in her time to know what had transpired. Barely even needing the proximity alarms and first order identification codes cascading through her channels to know that the game was almost up as soon as it had begun.

Runi scrubbed a grease stained hand over her features, her endless stream of profanity finally trailing off with a series of highly obscene and borderline physically impossible suggestions for Corek to engage in at his earliest opportunity. Kark, that had to be a record. Chalk one up to Totalitarian efficiency. It was almost painfully funny. She let out a heavy sigh before leaning over to flip open the comms channel, deciding to take advantage of the fact her vessel had reverted a good distance away from the rest of ragtag fleet.

"<<FIV Predator, This is the Independent Freighter Stellarwind registered out of Walalla. I'm charged with the Grand Horn Ranch Corporation for the collection an' transportation a shipment of nerf meat.>>" She paused to allow the data burst of her credentials to filter across the comms, providing the First Order vessel with the necessary evidence and intended cargo manifests to corroborate her claims. Complete and utter forgeries, of course. Credible enough to appease the planetary authorities on Fennesa without too much in the way of inspection, but perhaps not quite enough to pull the wool over the more discerning and less trusting eyes of the First Order navy. "<<I can sure 'preciate the need for security in these dark times as much as the next honest folk, but I think boardin' action seems a little jackbooted. Can you advise why this is necessary? As you can see from my permits, I gotta a contract and a deadline to keep.>>"

 

[Aeshi Tillian]

“Well,” Aeshi mused. “First mate, you have the bridge.” One of the droids nodded its metallic he’d and stood up to take her place. She had met this sort of welcome before and she was not a fan. She had a feeling that the First Order would not take kindly to her actions in the past. “You’re captain for now.”

She turned and strode to the edge of the bridge, taking a vacant seat at a navigation console. That suited her well enough. It was where she really belonged, to say the least.

The acting captain broadcast their credentials and cargo. Nothing shady in those. No, she couldn’t risk that in a ship this size. Not yet anyways. She left that to the smaller familY ships and her own personal ship. The risk was too high to bring anyone else with her, beyond more than one or two.

This would be interesting to see how it turned out.

 

[Noah Corek]

Fenessa
The Solomon
Bridge
Allies: [member="Jorus Merrill"] [member="Aeshi Tillian"] [member="HK-36"] [member="Runi Verin"] [member="Delila Castillon"] [member="Thom Betna"]
Not So Allies: [member="Robogeber"] [member="Emilia Ravel"]

Noah slammed his fist into the armrest on the captains chair and let out a slew of curses in both Mando'a and Basic, his first two languages that he often reverted to when angry, as he glared out of the viewport. Swiveling his chair Noah looked towards the sensor officer. "Report." While Noah had been angry he now reverted back to being calm and level-headed as was needed in a combat situation. The sensor officer looked down at his panel and gulped. "We have a small battle group in sector fifty-seven. One Resurgent II-class, two Vanquisher-class Star Destroyers, various cruisers, frigates and corvettes as well as TIE Fighters, Bombers and Interceptors." Noah nodded at this, it was a standard First Order battle group. The gravity well generators were gonna be a bit of a problem.

"Sir. Incoming transmission." Noah nodded, indicating for the comm ensign let it through. Upon hearing the message Noah rolled his eyes. "Typical Imperial asshats. Open a channel." Noah ordered the officer and once the channel was open the officer gave him a nod. "FIV Predator. This is Commander Tywin Stark of the independent frigate Starchaser. We're based out of Ord Mantell with the private security firm Ravenwood Industries. We have no cargo, you're more than welcome to do a scan to detect anything on board but my orders are to let nobody aboard no matter the circumstances. The freighters that I am protecting, that is up to them as to whether they let you search them or not." Nodding to the comm officer he cut transmission. The Predator would receive a data-package and it was very well detailed indeed. It had everything that Noah had just said being backed up and even some of the things he didn't say. Noah looked towards the comm officer again. "I don't care how you do it but get an undetectable transmission to the Wretched Hive and inform them of the situation."

 

[Robogeber]

Objective: Board The Troublemakers
Allies: [member="Emilia Ravel"]
Enemies: [member="Noah Corek"]
Interacting With: [member="Aeshi Tillian"] | [member="Runi Verin"]
Others: [member="Jorus Merrill"] | [member="HK-36"] | [member="Delila Castillon"] | [member="Thom Betna"]
Theme: When Has Become Now | Michael Giacchino

The battlegroup began to steadily close the gap between the incoming vessels, with the Predator spearheading the movement, accompanied by the hulking FIV Apex and FIV Fanessa. As they drew closer, TIE fighters began to form a perimeter around the vessels. A very loose one. And admittedly one which could easily be pierced. But it was a symbol. One which explained to the assembled vessels what their current predicament was. Trapped at the First Order's mercy.

As the Predator pressed forward, Fleet Admiral watched his crew work their duties with a sense of pride. They had responded well to the unplanned interruption, and adapted far better than he could have ever hoped. The Comms Officer glanced up at the Fleet Admiral, "Admiral, we have transmissions from the vessels. Clearance codes, cargo manifests, and registrations." He informed him. Rausgeber nodded.

"Commence loop of your initial broadcast." He ordered, "There will be no need to repeat yourself over and over again," He offered with a smile, before returning to business. "I think it's safe to say today's exercise will see a change in pace," He continued, his voice even, perhaps a little positive. "We're going to perform customs duty." The Comms Officer went to work, as Rausgeber now began to scan the horizon from his viewport, watching the vessels slowly approach, "Bring up the manifests, lets see what our guest have bought."

The Comms Officer shuffled uncomfortable in his seat, as he fulfilled the senior officers orders. "Admiral, we also have personalised messages sir." The younger officer licked his lips before tightly pursing them, "One from a vessel called the Stellarwind." The officer continued, "They're apparently hauling a cargo of nerf meat." The young officer transmitted the manifest of the Stellarwind to a screen which folded down from the command bridges roof. Rausgeber read over the credentials. They were legitimate, but even then the juggernaut known as the First Order's bureaucracy would spare no one, regardless of guilt.

"Bring me the broadcast." The Fleet Admiral commanded, "Play it aloud for us." He ordered. Turning away from the screen, and hovering towards the young officer, and then standing stationary. As if he were some ethereal spirit, haunting him. The Comms Officer frantically worked to fulfil the request, working as fast as he could. Until the audio began.

"FIV Predator, This is the Independent Freighter Stellarwind registered out of Walalla. I'm charged with the Grand Horn Ranch Corporation for the collection an' transportation a shipment of nerf meat.I can sure 'preciate the need for security in these dark times as much as the next honest folk, but I think boardin' action seems a little jackbooted. Can you advise why this is necessary? As you can see from my permits, I gotta a contract and a deadline to keep."

Rausgeber shook his head, "How unfortunate for them." He coolly replied, "It appears they've sealed their own fate." He drily mused, before turning to the end of the bridge, "Special Agent Damos." He called out. One of the officers milling at the rear of the bridge. Kell Damos was an older man, thirty five in age, and poached from the One Sith during its civil war. Unlike the stormtrooper corps and army officers who stood at the rear, Kell was at the fore of their group, shunned for his status as a professional spy. Like any good FOSB officer, he was constantly on duty, analysing and prying for information no matter what. A habit which irritated colleagues to no end, "Are your inspection teams ready?"

Damos nodded, "Yes Admiral." Damos replied, a smirk coming across his rugged features. "We have an inspection team one, ready for deployment on your command." He added, before standing to attention. "Shall I give the order?" The mans efficency earned the superiors favour, and the droid nodded.

"Yes." Rausgeber replied, "Have them prepare to leave for the Stellarwind." he said, "With the environmental protection suits on." He added, "We've got a code four to get through here, and I don't want anyone exposed to more harm than necessary." He ordered, before turning away. Damos' boots clicked against the durasteel of the bridge has he moved away, and the poor Comms Officer once again prepared to be interrogated by the Fleet Admiral's gaze. "Inform their captain of the EPA."

The Comms Officer swallowed, and then opened a priority signal to the Stellarwind, "Stellarwind, this is the FIV Predator." The Officer confidently began, expelling only imperial confidence and bravado, rather than weakness and fear which he felt. "Due to the nature of your cargo, inspection is unavoidable." The Comms Officer continued, "In accordance with the Environmental Protection Act of 851 ABY, and the Food Trade Act of 847 ABY, inspection teams must be dispatched to ensure type one fungi and type two and four parasites are not in any biological products being carried, for risk of contamination and infection of wildlife and First Order citizens."

"Additionally, the Food Trade Act requires officials to carry out an inspection of any consumable goods being brought into a system." The Comms Officer informed the Stellarwind, "Should it be found that you are carrying substandard product, not fit for sentient consumption, you will be fined and imprisoned in accordance with the severity of your offence." He paused, "Additionally, any wilful knowledge of any parasites, or contaminants held aboard your vessel will be treated as an act of biological terrorism." The Comms Officer continued, "Prepare for boarding." The line then was closed.

Rausgeber clapped, "You have done well ensign, done well." He offered another smile of approval to the young officer, who seemed to blush beneath the attention of his superior and his peers. "Prepare the second transmission for broadcast for us." he ordered, before turning to the port-side crew pit, "TIE OPS." He barked, scrambling to get the attention of the TIE Fighter Operations Officer, who clumsily saluted. "Ensure that the inspection team receives an escort." He commanded, "It'll be good practice to get those fly boys their protective spacing right." The TIE Ops officer nodded, and began to get to work.

"Transmission ready sir." The Comms Officer began, before hitting 'play'.

"FIV Predator. This is Commander Tywin Stark of the independent frigate Starchaser. We're based out of Ord Mantell with the private security firm Ravenwood Industries. We have no cargo, you're more than welcome to do a scan to detect anything on board but my orders are to let nobody aboard no matter the circumstances. The freighters that I am protecting, that is up to them as to whether they let you search them or not."

Rausgeber snorted. He outright snorted, despite the fact he didn't have any nostrils. The droid chuckled, "Some things, some things never change." Carlyle mused aloud to the crew. In his near fifteen year career in the Dosuunian Navy, two maxims ran true. The first being that private security firms were little more than pirates with enough self-awareness to rebrand. The second being that whenever someone refused to be boarded, they always, always had something to hide. "What a waste of time." He smirked, shaking his head, "So much pride." he appraised, "Yet so much stupidity." He then grinned sadistically, "Let's see what they're hiding."

There was a pause as the crew anxiously awaited their next orders. The Chief Gunnery Officer was the first to fill the void of silence which settled above the hum of Rausgebers repulsors and the beeps of terminals. "What shall our course of action be sir?" The lieutenant asked.

Rausgeber's reminiscing was broken, and he returned to the situation at hand. "Nothing changes. Continue with boarding." Carlyle continued, he turned to the TIE Operations Officer, "Lieutenant," he snapped at the officer, "Order Captain Rille's squadron and a wing of bombers to swarm that vessel."

The TIE Ops Officer nodded, "Would you like weapons hot sir?" She asked.

"No, no." Carlyle continued, "This is a demonstration, not a full performance." He shook his head, "No. I think we'll put this type of self important scum in his place." He again paused, calculating his next move, "Comms," he barked, making the young Comms Officer jump to attention, "Prepare me a signal to this, Commander Stark." He scowled, "I think we should have our chat face to face." Already Comms knew what was meant by that, and began rapidly unfurling a cable which sat beneath his terminal. "I want all ion weapons trained on the Starchaser. Given their insistence on no inspection, there must be something to hide." He snarled coldly, the bridge crew transfixed on his every movement. "Finally," He turned to the rear of the bridge, "Colonel Starthing."

Colonel Gorman Starthing, sat on a chair, watching one of the bridge gunners terminals, raised his eyes. He was an older man, now nearing the ripe age of seventy. His youth spent with the One Sith, destroying the Galactic Republic, his older years reformed, and now working to finalise a legacy worth his salt. Starthing's greying walrus-moustache seemed to twitch at the mention of his name. "Yes Fleet Admiral?" The older man inquired.

"Prepare a detatchment of stormtroopers to support Skull Squadron when we get boots on this vessel." Rausgeber commanded, "I want prisoners, not corpses." He continued, "Proceed the inspection as planned, but do feel free to dig the boot in at your discretion."

Starthing raised himself up, and nodded. The old man saluted, and a grin spread over his face, "With pleasure Admiral." He barked, as he turned about face, and marched off of the command deck. Rausgeber returned his gaze to the Comms Officer, who frantically prepared a transmission signal for the admiral.

"Ready to broadcast on your mark sir." The Comms Officer informed Rausgeber, before feeding him the cable. Rausgeber tenderly felt it, and lifted it up to the back of his head. Now was one of the few times he could indulge himself. Where he could momentarily feel whole again. A feeling that was distant, but at the same time, oh so familiar, one which he craved. The droids face shut down, and its head slumped as the cord was successfully fed, and plugged into the jack.

Aboard the Solomon, a transmission would appear, holographic in nature. Within the hologram, stood Carlyle Rausgeber. The man the public remmbered, and his enemies feared. Now human in form. He wore his hair, neatly parted, and slicked in the appropriate places. His body, perhaps a little tauter than what he once was. An indulgence on his part. His uniform was crisply cleaned, with no blemishes, and his cape sat still, adding to the mass of the figure. On his face sat the ever present sneer he presented whenever he addressed those who displeased him and the First Order.

"Commander Stark," Rausgeber drawled, now no longer plagued with the artificial tinge to his voice. "I am Fleet Admiral Carlyle Rausgeber." It was as if he were once again, flesh and blood. "You seem to misunderstand my transmission." Rausgeber continued. By now a full squadron of First Order TIE fighters and bombers were swooping the vessel, making particular note to perform imaginary attack runs on the bridge of the vessel and to swoop any vieewports. "We were giving notice for boarding rather than any request for access." The Fleet Admiral continued.

"And perhaps that is something nigh untenable for you." He added, "Perhaps your orders do stipulate that you cannot be boarded." He conceded, "However, we are not on Ord Mantell, now are we?" The admiral sarcastically mused, "You're in my domain now Commander Stark." Rausgeber snapped, as his fighters now began to circle the Solomon, like vultures to their prey."And if you believe your orders carry any weight here, you're gravely mistaken." He let his words settle, "Try to resist my boarding party, and you will be destroyed." He coldly informed him, "Attempt to run, and you'll be annihilated within seconds." The holographic figure raised an angry finger, pointedly and its projection glared right where it was being projected, as if to stare at whoever was watching. "It's your move Commander Stark." Rausgeber glared, "Think wisely."

Spoiler

Sincerest apologies for the poor formatting. For some reason, the text editor hates it when I use courier new.

 

[Jorus Merrill]

[SIZE=11pt]KORBIN[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]NEUTRAL TERRITORY[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Lotekk-class Deep Space Transport[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] S.S. Gossamer[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Immediate: [member="Delila Castillon"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Others (Fenessa): [member="Noah Corek"] [member="Runi Verin"] [member="Thom Betna"] [member="HK-36"] [member="Aeshi Tillian"] [member="Robogeber"] [member="Emilia Ravel"][/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]After long years working with [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Adurak [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]on various ships, Jorus knew his comms officer’s mannerisms. The Arcona tensed and fidgeted while taking unexpected transmissions, good or bad. He’d grow out of that eventually - he was only in his mid-thirties, after all.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“I’m getting a weak signal bounced from a private subspace transceiver on Shasfath. It’s from the Solomon-slash-Starchaser.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Jorus glanced at Delila and got out of his chair to look over Adurak’s shoulder. “What we got?”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Major First Order presence. Interdiction, one battlecruiser, two destroyers the size of the Gossamer, and plenty of escorts. They’re snagged - the whole group - and the First Order is starting the whole interrogate-inspect-board thing. No boardings yet but it’s only a matter of time.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Jorus squinted at the reports coming in from the outsystem scout fighters. “Looks like we’ve got confirmation on the size of the fleet, too.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Adurak nodded his big triangular head. “All verified as of now.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Gorrammit.” Jorus stalked back to his chair. He didn’t sit down, just gripped the back of it and looked out over the bridge. “We don’t know First Order ships well enough to know which one’s interdicting, or whether others could take over interdiction duties even if we managed to take out the grav well. We’ve got, what, under a quarter of that fleet’s firepower? Couple squadrons of fighters and some light transports? And we’ve got more souls aboard than the whole rest of Corek’s group put together. Feth it all sideways.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]He’d used his unique connection to hyperspace in the past, to interfere with or avoid interdiction fields - but to screw it enough to bust out a trapped fleet? Not possible. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Stampeding in won’t work, will it. Stang. I think we need to wait and see, and hope Corek’s contractors keep their cool. There’s worse things than a jackboot inspection, and it’s not like they’re carrying contraband. Feth, I [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]hope [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]they’re not carrying contraband. Adurak, ping Corek back. Let him know we've received and we're holding position at Korbin for the moment. He knows as well as I do that this ain't the time for a charge.”[/SIZE]

 

[Runi Verin]

Location: The Boracyk. The Stellarwind
Objective: Lie like there's no tomorrow.
Interacting: [member="Robogeber"] | [member="Emilia Ravel"]
Allies Within System:[member="Thom Betna"] | [member="HK-36"] | [member="Aeshi Tillian"] | [member="Noah Corek"]
Allies Without: [member="Delila Castillon"] | [member="Jorus Merrill"]

She pinched the bridge of her nose and slumped back in the pilot’s chair as Predator’s Comm Officer relayed the message. Force above, save her from the ravages of Bureaucracy. What she wouldn’t give for some lax, underpaid and underappreciated customs officials right about now. The First Order were known for being difficult at times, but this was beyond the standard response she’d received when navigating their space thus far. Given that she wasn’t presently a smoldering wreck of durasteel, she had to assume that they weren’t on to them. Not yet, anyway. Which left the question, what were they up to?

“<<FIV Predator, Stellarwind.>>” She chimed, opening the channel again. “<<Seems we’ve got a bit of a misunderstandin’ on our hands. I’m here to collect a shipment from Grand Horn, not deliver one. Kark, if I had the savvy to sell nerf cuts to a nerf rancher, I’d be in a different line of business altogether.>>” There was a beat of empty static as she let her message filter across the expanse before the she pushed her luck a touch further, “<<I mean, your troops are welcome to inspect my hold an’ all, but ain’t gonna find nothin’ but some empty refrigeration units. But hey, I ain’t about to tell you how to do your job.>>”

With a little luck, embarrassment would earn her a little leeway and permission to continue course. Without it, well, things would likely get awfully interesting in a few minutes. She just had to hope Corek and the rest would manage to keep their cool in the mean time.

 

[Delila Castillon]

Allies : [member="Jorus Merrill"] |[member="Noah Corek"]| [member="Runi Verin"] [...& Others, my post isn't that important...] Enemies : [member="Robogeber"]



At this point in her life, she was used to Jorus' doing and saying some crazy mystical sh...stuff. Despite what she had seen over the years the redhead was still skeptical of the Force and anyone who used it, Jorus included. Eyes glanced over in his direction before putting another piece of spiced nerf jerky into her mouth, watching the display. Now if Jorus said something was going to go wrong she believed it. Spacers intuition. Spend enough time in the black and one tended to get a feel for things. Same for battles.


Leaning back in her seat, another piece of jerky was eaten as her traveling partner explained the issue with Corek's little fleet. Delila wasn't surprised. No government was going to let a corporation out so easy. Especially ones that made arms and could be strong armed into producing weapons for the government at no cost to said government. If one were to ask her she would have placed an insurance claim on the weapons, abandoned the factory and high tailed out all the workers on various modes of transportation.


That was just her and old age setting in. Perhaps the younger, hotheaded version of Delila would have been eager to put up such a fight.


"All its going to take is one spark." Delila indicated with the jerky bag. "If they are smart nothing should happen, they'll be annihilated in seconds."