The Bloody Bones

[Blackthorne]

[member="Marcus Itera"]

Were it not for the sten pinched between her fore and middle finger of her left hand Dahl might've entertained the notion of taking yet another cigarra from the man. A bemused glance given his way, she lead him along the hallway with no hint of alarm at the sound and quaking of incoming canon fire. With Kiin at the helm she was confident that mishaps wouldn't be an issue. The Rattataki liked this ship and its Captain a little too much.

Dahl lead Marcus to the armory where she began to gear up.

"A tour?" she asked him wonderingly, "sounds a bit tame for a second date."

The hybrid grinned, flashing the man a glint of fangs, "What did you have in mind?"

The Harrowbane peeled into the fray at speeds typically reserved for ships of a smaller class, driving through enemy fire like a bullet through rain.

 

[Marcus Itera]

"Tame?" Marcus lofted a brow, pulling another drag from the cigarra. "I'll show you tame."

Another helmet-hidden grin was sent her way as they snaked through the ship, blissfully uncaring in regards to the flak that so peppered the Harrowbane's shields. It rocked to and fro, though that helmsman must've had some guts to send this hunk of metal this fast into the middle of a hellstorm.

Pulling away from the fanged woman, Marcus helped himself to the goodies he found inside. Some extra magazines slid into pouches, a few more bricks of explosives, and a handful of those gaseous grenades that could knock a Wookie flat on his behind. There were quite a few ideas brimming within that mind of his, though he was strangely against the notion of making Dahl privy to most of them.

"We hit hard and fast," he shook a thermal charge before slipping it back along with the other gear. "Are we taking prisoners?"

[member="Blackthorne"]

 

[TB-705]

The Imperials and Panathans had not begun to fire on the former prison ship, perhaps hoping that the boarders would be pushed back. That would no doubt change soon enough.

The Togorian slaves, free of their confinement, now manned the bridge of the vessel. The remaining members of the original boarding party managed to repair the damage done by the ion cannons and reset the IFF transponder to indicate to the ion mines that they were friendly.

"Are we ready?" Thengil rumbled.

"We are," replied Mokir.

"Ahead standard, aft shields at maximum."

Attempting to power up weapons would be futile indeed.

"Goldmane, there is a problem," rasped a Fras.

"Speak."

"We trapped the Panathans in a section of the ship, but some are breaking through."

"[member="Dagorn"], subdue the Panathans. I want them alive."

Cautiously, the prison ship pulled away from the main formation and began treading toward the edge of the system.

"What is the status of the hyperdrive?"

"Still frozen. They should be up soon."

Thengil growled, then glanced at the viewport, watching the chaos unfold. Somewhere out there, [member="Blackthorne"] and her band were mounting a similar endeavor. If all went well they would leave with their prizes intact.

 

[Piraiba]

Piraiba had been a Sith, and watched multiple dark lords rise and fall. He left that life behind when they had committed genocide against the Togorians. He had joined a rogue faction of Mandalorians who had taken up the name of Deathwatch. Few records probably still existed of them. He had even served living gods who rivaled the very power of the Jedi and Sith. Yet the story was always the same. They were all long gone now. Nothing remained the same except for that age old struggle for power.

He couldn't help but to wonder what the point of it all was. He had drowned himself in blood to the point that it no longer brought pleasure. Shedding the Sith ways had brought the need of a purpose. Nothing held value for long.

Three decades were wasted simply surviving as he avoided the foolish struggles of factions. That had always been a cub's game, and it was long since he could call himself young. Then one day it dawned on Piraiba why his father had likely disappeared from the face of the galaxy. There was one last great frontier. He needed to seek a worthy death. Go out with your boots on. He didn't wear such things, but the saying still made sense.

That is why Piraiba found himself on the Harrowbane. He managed to get in touch with an old contact named Sable. He had known the woman when he was an apprentice. She then got him in touch with Dahldesa. Piraiba was related to the woman in a way, since he had been adopted by Vascious Relens years prior. It was a distant and likely irrelevant relation, but it still mattered to him. If he was going to have someone's back, family would always come first.

The Togorian stood at a view port and watched blaster bolts and flak flying past as the ship rocked violently. The ten foot tall feline puffed anxiously on a cigarette that looked minuscule between his threatening claws. His fear of flying had been crippling in his youth. It was controlled now, but the effects were visible.

The feline held to a nearby bulkhead beam and had to stoop to keep his head from hitting the overhead metal. He saw Blackthorne and Marcus approaching down his corridor. Piraiba turned to greet them. He was already wearing his battered and mismatched armor, with his weapons strapped on.

"Piraiba sees you, Blackthorne. This one stands with you this day," spoke the feline in his deep bass filled voice.

The original Togorian was back.

[member="Blackthorne"] [member="Marcus Itera"]

 

[Blackthorne]

Suited up, the woman turned to the man as she donned the final pieces of her chosen weaponry and turned with the gleam of her helmet under her arm. Green eyes slivered as the thermal charges made their way into his own repertoire and for the skinniest moment she had half a mind to question him.

Blowing their target up wasn't the point here. A ship in pieces made significantly less return on investment financially no matter how much return emotionally it might bring. She sniffed, satisfied they were both amply supplied, and turned to lead back out of the armory, "Not unless they're worth their weight in Phrik."

Perhaps someone had a bounty out on Panathan officials but she hardly thought it worth the trouble. Down the hall they walked, hands bracing against the bulkhead as the ship swung hard through an arching turn as it singled out their first target. [member="Piraiba"] met them at the end of the hall, a crew member she'd nearly forgotten about for his reclusive nature. Surprising, given his odd way of talking.

Dahl gave the cat a smirk - she always did like cats, "Good."

"Captain, first target is within range," Kiin's voice over the comm.
Dahl looked up, steadying herself as a barrage of canon fire smashed into their shields, "Shields at full, tear down their defenses and prepare the Boardin' Harpoons."

BOOM BOOM BOOM

"Aye Captain."

"Harpoon system ready," this from Aku over the comm.

"Ready team 1 at Boarding Hatch 3," lifting her helmet she pulled it down over her head, tucking the long black braid down the back of her suit and engaging the seal at her jaw line. With a hiss the helmet's internal systems blinked on, blue light of the HUD illuminating her face.

[member="Marcus Itera"]

 

[Marcus Itera]

Blowing the ship to smithereens was one thing, turning its resident crew into a giant suicide bomb was quite another. Too many devious plans had been concocted by him, often fueled by strategic insights that Miranda constantly splayed across his heads-up display. She was just a facilitator when it came to the darker side of him. But, business was business. Cash was cash.

Another double check was in order as Dahl dolled herself up in whatever pirates wore. She sure looked and played the part, especially with her burly crew of cat-people, Rattataki, and their plethora of tattoos and piercings. Disgusting things, Marcus thought, but he'd opted not to comment on matter given their current allied state. That topic was another to broach later, if at all.

"Sup, dog-" He caught himself, "Er, cat..."

Marcus looked [member="Piraiba"] up and down, measuring him slowly before extending a balled fist. Knucks.

Whether he returned the gesture or not, a thundering trio of BOOMS rocked the vessel. The harpoons were away. The mercenary sent a glance back. The Disfavored were primed and ready to earn this paycheck of theirs.

They were all good to go.

[member="Blackthorne"]

 

[Piraiba]

Piraiba inclined his head slightly toward Blackthorne in a nod. She had already moved on, and was giving commands into her comm link. He had never been accounted to be any kind of strategist. Most of her words bounced off of him except for 'boarding'. That would be where his role would come in.

Marcus' voice grabbed Piraiba's attention from the pirate captain. The feline looked down at the man and the momentary narrowing of his eyes was the only outward expression that Piraiba gave for Marcus' verbal slip up. The Shistavanen were known as dogs from time to time. He'd have ripped the arms off of a man that called him a Shistavanen. He really couldn't abide by the mangy Shistavanen. You couldn't trust them as far as you could throw them. Of course that wasn't an apt metaphor in this situation. The Togorian could throw one quite a distance. It was safe to say he didn't like them regardless.

Of course Marcus was not a wolfman, and he seemed to be Blackthorne's friend. That made him Piraiba's friend as well.

The Togorian's lips rose into a bestial toothy smile as he balled his own hand into a fist and extended it to return the fist bump.

"This one is called Piraiba, little brother. What should this one call you?"

The trio of booms made the feline look toward the direction of the sound wildly as he stumbled. Had they been hit? No ... Perhaps the harpoons that had been mentioned. He fumbled quickly for the helmet hanging at his hip.

[member="Marcus Itera"] [member="Blackthorne"]

 

[TB-705]

"Tribune," Thengil rumbled, eyes fixed on the sole Sunguard who had returned to him. "Why are you aboard my vessel? Where is your ship?"

Destroyed. Blown to a billion pieces by the guns of the Panathans.

"Apologies, Legate. Our shields were in critical condition I-"

Claws curled inward and the Thyrsian's face froze, eyes bulging.

"Did I not tell you to stay aboard the Bloodfang?"

The Cathar rose from his seat, eyes molten fury. The tribune clutched at his throat, gasping for air, unable to speak. The Togorians watched, equally wordless.

"You failed me, Tribune."

He twisted his claws in a sharp gesture and the Thyrsian's neck snapped. The body fell, a limp corpse.

Saving them from the pits was a mistake.

Stepping past the body, Thengil keyed in a hyperspace code. "We are leaving. Tell the [member="Blackthorne"] to meet us at the Cove. She will know."

 

[Blackthorne]

The Harrowbane shuddered and rocked as it batted away oncoming fighters and fire. Couldn't sit still for long, their blind spot was too easy to find. Boarding Team 1, a large group of the Harrowbane crew, quickly descended upon the first ship through the hatch.

"Cinders," Dahl answered for [member="Marcus Itera"], regardless of the fact that he could answer for himself. It was the only name her crew needed to know.

Team 1 is green. Boarding Hatch 3 disengaging. Ready Team 2 at Boarding hatch 1.

A bright red light flared on above their heads at the hatch doorway. Dahl watched through a viewport as they peeled away from their first victim, engines kicking in to send them off to the next, "What's the next target, Kiin," she spoke into the internalized comm of her suit.

"Miranda has chosen a pretty little number sitting just off the mine field dropped by Ri'Shajirr's fleet. It's been stunned, but the systems are coming back online. We should arrive just in time to help get it's feet again..."

"Miranda?"

"You'll have to ask Cinders about that one."

A quizzical look landed on the man.

"Who's Miranda."

 

[Marcus Itera]

The nickname was still one he hadn't caught on to. At least this venomous woman was kind enough to have never asked for his true identity, though she'd weaseled her way into uncovering the truth about his synthetic companion. I mean, what, was he just going to ignore the AI's incessant chiming in and flirting? Half the time, it was like he was having a conversation with himself.

The rampant use of spice and alcohol didn't make things look any better than what they were.

"She's uh," he started, "A close friend of mine. Real close."

Metallic eyes narrowed at the woman. Don't say anything else, his gaze demanded.

"We're all ready. Let's get this show on the road."

[member="Blackthorne"]

 

[Piraiba]

Piraiba calmed when neither Marcus nor Blackthorne seemed ruffled by the vibrations. They were not hit.

The Togorian waited patiently and eyed the two as they exchanged looks and a few words. He very much felt like the third repulsorlift on a two lift speeder bike.

His eyes watched from a tall vantage point. Few things escaped the Togorian's intense gaze, but he was not a man of social intrigues and cues. What did those glances mean? Had she been jealous? That was something Piraiba had seen often on the faces of women. Of course he hadn't flown with her long enough to be certain.

Then the feline realized something and cut in with a bout of raucous laughter. "Cinders? That is a terrible name! You must earn a better one, little brother."

The Togorian clapped Marcus jovially on the back. That was an action that likely would have sent the man stumbling several steps forward. Yet the the feline didn't seem to notice as he turned away from the two and strolled toward the gathering party of boarders from Team 2. He was still muttering the name to himself in fits of chuckles, which could be heard and made out quite clearly.

"Palvo, bring Piraiba his rifle!"

Then just like that the mirth disappeared from the feline's face as he adopted the grim determination of a man with a job to do. He caught a modified blaster rifle in his hands and looked over the weapon for a moment. That rifle and a large knife at his hip would be his only weapons. His two long hilt light sabers had long been passed down to his daughter. They had not been replaced.

[member="Marcus Itera"] [member="Blackthorne"]