[The Kathol Outback]: Dominion of Kal'Shebbol

[Jorus Merrill]

[member="Solan Charr"] [member="Darron Wraith"]

Beyyr grunted at the subtext. "Wrruffle."

"General Beyyr respects your battlefield expertise, Master Wraith. In truth, that expertise is the reason you were requested for this mission."

"Burrrrr."

"The General suspects that His Majesty will be adamant but unwilling to antagonize the Underground. On the unlikely chance that His Majesty exerts his Mastery of the Force in a hostile way, the General and his staff would be unable to resist that power."

"Durrhurr."

"You are, thus, insurance, Master Wraith..."

"Hurfhurfhurf."

"...a clear message that, despite the power of the Keshiri Royal Navy and its King, we should be considered as equals. A little deterrence between friends."

Beyyr stepped aboard the dropship; the little droid floated behind him.

 

[Aerin Kath]

Location:Sky above Kal'Shebbol, aboard the D'Lessio
Objective: #3
Allies: [member="Jorus Merrill"] TKO, S&R
Enemies: Gentech so far
Post: 1

which part went where again? oh wait, that is where that went and this one is just the tool to get this thing in here. "um, sir could you maybe stop getting us shot at?, Half your systems back here are nearly on fire, me and Dumpster can only do so much to keep her from going full on meltdown." taking a chemical fire extinguisher and dousing the nearest sparking panel, Aerin is asking himself why he even got himself into this blasted ship.

Dumpster does his best to keep other parts of the ship from starting on fire too, as well as modifying the power to bolster the shields like his master would have if he wasn't busy tinkering with the sublight drives at the moment to give max output.

 

[Armand Temi]

Objective: 1 and 2 (whoever's coming for Astrid), and I got you [member="Nawago"]!
Location: Sarne’s Palace, Gladiator Ring
Allies: [member="Lok Munin"] [member="Bryce Bantam"] [member="Matthew Robinson"] [member="Runi Verin"] [member="Kimiko"] [member="Zetha Vesh"] [member="Bexel"] [member="Ria Misrani"] [member="Ula Kaddo"] [member="Tilzi"] [member="Naamah Aesham"] [member="Nikola Ticon"]
Enemies: [member="Harbinger"] [member="Cronas Plagueborn"]
Posts: 2/20

Her entire right shoulder drenched in blood, Astrid was beginning to lose focus. Aside from continued telekinesis, which would fade in strength as her stamina waned, she needed to do something to save herself from losing this death-match.

Another strong explosion rocked the palace causing gasps around the audience; the Cerean was also momentarily distracted, mouth agape in shock, his long cranium whipping around to see where the noise was coming from.

Astrid took advantage of the distraction to drop her sickle and sprint, using Force Speed to enhance her motion. The momentary spotlight on the incoming siege forces gave her another idea. More interference and disruption was needed to add to the pandemonium that was seconds away from breaking out among the stands.

With Sarne’s guards on her tail, Astrid ran inside where the other slaves were kept for fighting, searching, listening, by the Core even smelling for the giant Wampa that was kept in here. Following her nose, she found the poor creature in a holding cell.

“Please don’t eat me, wampa,” she said under her breath as she broke the beast’s chains with the final last bits of telekinesis she had left in her. Waiting for Nawago to emerge, she tore off a piece of fabric from her pants, ripped the shoulder of her armor off and began trying to stop the flow of blood from the machete wound.

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

864 Years Earlier...

A Clone Trooper was bred for war.

From the time they could walk, they were taught to march in the face of explosions, blood, gore, or the overwhelming hordes of the droid army. Fear was a four letter word. They were bred to be obedient, violent but not aggressive, and above all else, without fear.

Three wasn't just afraid, he was terrified.

Terrified at a sight unlike anything his training could have prepared him for. Instead of the faceless hordes of droids, it was an army that wore a face - his face - staring out at him from behind a dozen blaster rifles. Each of them pointed at the group of younglings. Their fingers on the trigger as each of the clone youths could only stare with mouths open in wide-eyed confusion at what was taking place.

He still remembered the sound of that first shot.

Some described a lightsaber activating as a mere snap-hiss sound. It was so much more than that. Three felt the pressure as the air surrounding the blade was suddenly superheated by the confined plasma. A handful of conflicts, a dozen alien worlds, and at no point during this Clone Cadet excursion had Three ever once seen General Xantha use his lightsaber.

He called it Paperweight.

It was green. Three had always wondered what the Jedi's lightsaber would look like. It was both magnificent and a horror to behold. It weaved through the air with an eerie, preternatural grace that cut the blaster bolts from out of the air.

Just a minute ago, the five boys - the four clone younglings and the Jedi General - had been playing. Passing the time with a game that the Jedi had taught them as the Sentinel headed back toward Kamino. In so short a season as 3X744 had been gone, much had changed. Count Dooku and General Grievous were dead. The victory of a long-fought, hard won battle was at last within the grasp of the Republic.

Just a matter of seconds later, 3V229, a clone youngling identical in all respects to himself, hit the deck. A trail of vapor rose from the exit wound in his chest. On a purely forensic level, the boy's training supplied his brain with the cold, detached reality that the boy had just been shot in the back by one of their own clone brothers. Clone Troopers, massacring younglings. Massacring their own. He felt something warm spreading down his legs and numbly realized that he'd just pissed himself.

The Jedi wasn't able to protect them and himself. Three saw specks of blood on the floor at the General's feet and realized that he'd been hit. As the Jedi started to become overwhelmed, he took the attack to the clones. Three watched, unable to look away as the green blade cut apart everything he'd ever wished to be or become.

A blaster carbine skidding across the floor. The DC-15 struck the side of his boot. A bloody handprint from a clone staring back at him hauntingly from the pistol grip.

They were his clone brothers.

That was his Jedi.

Neither was his enemy. So what was he supposed to do? They hadn't trained for this. He hadn't trained for this...

The youngling scooped up the DC-15. Taking the shortened stock up into the natural niche between the torso and the shoulder joint, the boy leveled the weapon at his fellow clones...

...and stood beside the Jedi as he fought back against the Clone Army.

+ - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - + - +​

Present Day...
Post 6 of 20
Objective 2/4: Be All That You Can Be
Location: Sorbiss Valley (Secret Hangar)

The transport was bringing construction materials into the base.

It lumbered on about a half kilometer past the entry control point, before it seemed to blow a repulsor. The transport came down sharply on one corner, digging a trench along the ground as it slid to a halt, and sending metal rebar scattering in all directions.

As various sentry droids responded to the distress of the transport and the materials spilling out across the main road into the base, a small shadow was detached and moving along a building just off from the inside of the perimeter. It was a small maintenance shed, probably containing risers for water or sewage running through the installation. The DC-15 was cradled in his arms. A faded stain of blood in the form of a handprint barely visible on the back of the grip. It was the same weapon he'd picked up back on the Republic Star Destroyer Sentinel.

There wasn't a lot of structures for an installation, but the perimeter fence and the sentry droids were obviously guarding something.

The Underground's intelligence suggested that the facility was underground.

The boy looked around the corner, observing the droids now trying the collect the mess that the transport had made. Then his gaze slid up to the door to the rustic shed. If it did contain risers for pumping stuff in or out of the base...

 

[TC-91]

Objective: 1/2
Location: Sarne's Palace; Gladiator Staging Area
Allies: [member="Astrid Santii"] | [member="Bryce Bantam"] | [member="Lok Munin"] | [member="Runi Verin"] | [member="Matthew Robinson"] | [member="Kimiko"] | [member="Zetha Vesh"] | [member="Ria Misrani"] | [member="Bexel"] | [member="Tilzi"] | [member="Naamah Aesham"] | [member="Ula Kaddo"] | [member="Nikola Ticon"]
Enemies: [member="Cronas Plagueborn"] | [member="The Harbinger"] | Gentech
Post: 3

If there was a time to escape, now would be the time. One moment he was trying to rest, but that was interrupted with the door to the small room being opened and his chain being quickly smashed. The person responsible seemed to be the force user he spotted earlier fighting in the arena, Astrid. There's no doubt that none of the guards would have noticed it, despite how much was going on outside. That seemed apparent as the sound of shouting came from the Holding Pen area, must have been searching every pen to make sure that she hadn't hid there.

Looking over at the girl and noticing her try to temporarily 'bandage' her wound, Nawago quickly shut the door and blocking it using his body weight. Hopefully it would have given them time to catch their breath for a few seconds.

"Don't worry, I'm not carnivorous like most Wampas you would expect. Eating you would be the least thing I would want to do right now, anyway. More people means more offensive capabilities."

Scanning the room, he attempted to find some sort of way to escape beside the door he was blocking, since that could increase their chances of being put under fire. Of course, the door leading to the arena wouldn't have been the smartest move either, the arena would have been the last place they would want to go at the time. His eyes quickly graviated towards a large crack in the wall to the side. Assuming that it would lead into the next hallway over, they could attempt to break it down, but it would still be highly risky. No telling what could be on the other side, but it seemed like their best bet besides waiting.

"We need to escape now, they could get here any moment and try to knock down the door. On the other hand..." He took a long pause, taking the time to listen to how close the guards were before resuming.

"I want to make them bleed."

 

[The Great Narrator]

Objective: #2
Location: Gate's of Sarne's Palace
Allies: Gentech and the Slasha Hoard
Enemies: [member="Bryce Bantam"] | [member="Lok Munin"] | [member="Matthew Robinson"] | [member="Kimiko"] | [member="Zetha Vesh"] | [member="Nate the Bounty Hunter"] | [member="Runi Verin"] | TKO S&R, etc

Although she was quick and avoided his charge he though he could see the fear in her eyes. Her stance and style reeked of one who was a novice and Chonas wasn't going to let her escape this time. As she tried to attack him again she let a few crudely aimed strikes land so he could draw her in. As she pressed harder he saw his moment and shot out his hand, attempting to grab the wrist or forearm which held her red bladed saber. If he was successful in grabbing her he would twist her down in an arm lock and force her to drop her wretched light blade. Then he would have the advantage and his revenge.

"You're mine now girl!"

 

[Darron Wraith]

[member="Solan Charr"] [member="General Beyyr"]

Wraith boarded the dropship with little ceremony, simply keeping his arms crossed behind his back as he kept stride with the General. Flanked by guards, who were quite frankly armed to the tooth, the Jedi felt quite sure all avenues were being accounted for. Politics was a lot of pageantry, force was displayed just to impress or call an opponent's bluff. In his mind, it was the equivalent of a feint in dueling purposes. Get your opponent maneuvered where you wanted them, then go for victory, or in most of these situations compromise and make both sides happy. Given his present company of an accomplished Wookie general, who was very eloquent, and the soldiers Wraith had decided to keep it simple and not wear his traditional gear.

No need to make it look like they had sent him hunting, those days were over.

Mostly.

“Absolutely, I’ll chime in when I can. This is your negotiation General, my arena is no longer the world of politics.” Darron shuddered when he remembered all the meetings he had as GrandMaster, that was the one thing he didn’t miss.

 

[Singularity]

Objectives: 1 and 2
Location: Research Labs/Gladiator Staging Area
Allies: [member="Runi Verin"], [member="Nawago"], [member="Matthew Robinson"], [member="Nate the Bounty Hunter"], [member="Zetha Vesh"], [member="Bryce Bantam"], [member="Kimiko"], [member="Astrid Santii"], [member="Ria Misrani"], [member="Ula Kaddo"], [member="Lok Munin"], [member="Bexel"], [member="Tilzi"], [member="Astrid Santii"], TKO and S&R
Enemies: [member="Cronas Plagueborn"], [member="The Harbinger"], Gentech
Post: 2


His plan to pass himself off as a random security droid backfired upon his first encounter with Sarne Guards. They had started firing their blasters at the site of him; sending beams of energy down the hallway towards him. Taking in the seven organics firing at him, and the narrow corridor they were all in... He wouldn't be able to avoid many of the blaster bolts before he was able to close the distance and forcefully deactivate them. The damage he would receive; while easily repaired; would be significant and take time consuming. Singularity came to one conclusion.

Singularity was forced to deviate from his intended route.

Ducking back around the corner, the droid began sprinting down the side corridor. Drawing up his mental layout of the palace, he quickly formulated a more indirect route. It would take him longer to reach the female, but he if his projections weren't corrupted by more unknown circumstances, he would still reach his destination shortly.

Sprinting around another corner, he paused as he watched two security droids of inferior programming shoot at a male wearing a GenTech uniform; running away. Blaster bolts hitting him in the back, the man crumpled to the floor unmoving. Looking around the droids observed Singularity for a moment. Ignoring him they turned and walked into a side room.

Taking the opportunity he was given he picked up his pace; sprinting down the hallway. If his theory was correct then someone had hacked the security mainframe and had told all the security droids to open fire on their former owners. That would explain what had happened to him.

After 2 minutes, 26 seconds of avoiding increasingly large groups of both GenTech and Sarne security, Singularity came into a corridor overlooking the Gladiatorial Arena. Coming to a stop, he looked over the edge to assess the current situation. On the arena floor lay the unmoving corpse of the females opponent. Moving away from the corpse, his goal was heading towards one prison rooms off to the side. Arena Guards jumped down into the arena pit and began sprinting towards her.

Singularity began sprinting down the hallway again. According to his map, the room she was heading towards had only one door; which let to the arena.

There were to many security guards swarming after her for him to viably be able to fight his way through them to her. He would have to improvise another way to her.

Given enough structural damage..... maybe through the ceiling.

 

[Lok Xiangu]

Location: Landing Zone/Tunnels
Allies: [member="Runi Verin"], [member="Matthew Robinson"], [member="Kimiko"] anyone else that I missed
Enemies: [member="The Harbinger"]
Post count: [3/25]
Gear: First post

So much for settling in who is the leader of the task force, but he didn't care if they had one or not. He suspected that whoever was the point leader of the squad would have the mantle of leadership and give out calls to test of the squad whenever it was required. He did, however, thought that the whole unit that just came out of the Espada vessel would come in one and not divide into cell groups. He thought wrong when Matthew broke off and went off to some other area with a team from the SnR.

The Munin boy would follow the lovely Salvager into the tunnels of the palace as the rebels gestured and ushered them into them. Yells came from behind him and Runi, and he forced himself into continuing on and didn't dare to look back. He couldn't, but he would make sure those souls didn't vanish in vain.

"So Runi, can I call you Ru-Ru," the youngster asked to his fellow Mando to try to lighten up the mood and try to get her number.

 

[inactivechar01]

Objective: #2 - "And I would have gotten away with it too, if it weren't for you meddling kids."
Location: Sarne's Palace, upper levels.
Enemies: TKO; [member="Runi Verin"]; [member="Bryce Bantam"]; @Kimiko; [member="Lok Munin"]; [member="Matthew Robinson"]; [member="3X744"]; @Sorry2anyoneIhavemissed
'Cast':

Spoiler

• Grez Dogan: Besalisk Male; 42; Operations Manager at Gentech. [Darkfriend]
• Meralya Fuchs: Human Female; 26; Smuggler.
• Dr. Krevayn Mutil: Chalactan Male: 55; Doctor. Researching human augmentation and brainwashing drugs in Sarne's palace's research station.
• Numberous pitfighters. [Future guerrilla fighters for the cult]

Sarne Palace's Upper Levels, Doctor's Cabinet

Grez heard the explosions as he made his way through the besieged palace. A large evil smile painted itself on his face as his imagination colored the image of blood that would occur in the midst of the unsuspecting kathol outback fools. He would've love to see them, maimed and torn apart but he had much more important work.

"Dr. Mutil, we need to leave." The Beskalisk said to the doctor the moment he entered his cabinet. The cabinet was as always full with half-dead, half-live bodies that underwent the doctor's experiments.

"Ah, not we, Mr. Dogan. You do. There's still much work for you for the cause. My experiment has been a success and I will unleash it with the price of my life at our enemies. You need to take the results of my experiments, the procedure and everything away from here." The doctor calmly explained.

"You do not have to, Doctor Mutil! I've already called for a person to bring this place down."

"I apologize, Mr. Dogan but I shall not. My purpose has been fulfilled and I will die with it. Now take this datapad, it's the only surviving clue of what we have done here over the past year." The Chalactan doctor gave Grez a datapad and shooed him out of the room.

If anyone were to come near the doctor's cabinet, Dr. Mutil awaited them with a hidden poisonous blade. His play in this act was known. Behind him stood the large success of his experiments - The Glaukos Experiment. The doctor would act as a hostage and when close to his 'saviours' he would attempt to stab them. In his mouth a pill was being chewed and when he would do crush it with his teeth, his death would come in less than five seconds.

--

Sarne's palace's tunnels, somewhere under the arena.
Meralya Fuchs.

After she had been hired to bring those explosives into Sarne's palace through the tunnels, that damn operations manager had called her over the com again to tell her she had not only to bring them but plant them around the tunnels and blow them up.

He said the payment would be double, so she had no chance but to agree. Debt interest rates kept damn growing.

With the sack on her bag full of Thermex charges, she would set up the explosives like Santa would give gifts to children. Meralya heard the footsteps and chatter of someone coming around the corner.

Kark.

As a smuggler, she was really talented in small talk but what the hell would she explain when she had been caught with the damn charges.

Kark you, Grez. It ain't worth my life.

The woman tossed down the bag and began running back where she came from, the detonator in her hand. Soon after she would escape away from the tunnels, Meralya would hit the button and keep on running away as a section of the palace where the gladiator arenas were would most likely start crumbling down.

[member="Astrid Santii"] | [member="Bryce Bantam"] | [member="Lok Munin"] | [member="Runi Verin"] | [member="Matthew Robinson"] | [member="Kimiko"] | [member="Zetha Vesh"] | [member="Ria Misrani"] | [member="Bexel"] | [member="Tilzi"] | [member="Naamah Aesham"] | [member="Ula Kaddo"] | [member="Nikola Ticon"]

 

[Ria Misrani]

Location: the Gladiator Arena // Beneath the Arena!
Allies: [member="Ula Kaddo"], [member="Naamah Aesham"], [member=Tilzi], [member="Nikola Ticon"], [member="Bexel"] ; Kathol's Resistance Fighters // [member="Nawago"], [member="Astrid Santii"], [member="Matthew Robinson"], [member="Zetha Vesh"], [member="Runi Verin"], [member="Kimiko"]
Enemies: GenTech Experiments | [member="The Harbinger"], [member="Cronas Plagueborn"] (Soon ™) ; the Horde
Objective: #1 // Escape the Arena, ALIVE!
Post: 4 / ??

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZCk4RiKH9H0[/media]​

​

When Ria took the job, when she first busted into those computers at Terminus. She figured this would be a quick in and out scenario, and then she led their operation, and it led to them being caught. But as it stood now, more than half of the Arena would collapse with the explosion and more of it would beg to come down. It was almost like being back at the Salvage Yard with [member="Runi Verin"], only Runi wasn't here, and this definitely wasn't the Salvage Yard. And if [member="Bryce Bantam"], and [member="Lok Munin"] and their crazy kids with the Search and Rescue were here, then they were going to need all hands on deck.

The only thing Ria had time to do, was slice and hold on; prior to the explosion, she was working on turning turrets against GenTech. She had been working on turning droids loose, anything and everything a slicer could get her hands on. Opening all the cells to let loose the maximum security prisoners. And then floor caved in beneath her feet, Gigi tried grabbing for her but all Ria could see was her busty friend's hand and then darkness.

Gigi had found an office that overlooked the Arena's grounds, to where the Gladiator Ring had been, but in an instant, she turned to grab for Ria while holding onto a console. Looking outward she could see a Wampa and another girl, and others from their troupe. Gavid the lanky guy had managed to somehow escape into one of the open cells getting into the lift box. In a swift action move, Gigi tucked and rolled out from the debris. Having lost Ria to the tunnels she found herself slipping and sliding along the floor that kicked up from instability.

And the red head soon found herself falling into the cracks of the underdark. The Arena was going down, and there wasn't going to be much time to react. Down below, just as Gigi found herself falling, Ria had already hit the very, very hard duracrete face of the Arena's bottom. She knew this wasn't over and whoever set those charges off either was brilliant or an idiot, because there was no outrunning this. The Arena continued to move and Ria had to get moving, fast, she was lucky to have fallen on her bottom but it was bruised badly. "GIGI!" She shouted, "DEV!"

No time to talk, time to run she told herself as she looked behind her and saw the tunnel walls where she had landed begin to loosen up, buckling from beneath the weight of the Arena above. "Chite." She cursed and started her run to get out of the tunnels.

 

[Matthew Robinson]

Location: Arena - just arriving
Objective: Have a spot of tea after all this is over - watch [member="Runi Verin"] get sloshed
Mates: [member="Astrid Santii"] [member="Nawago"] [member="Singularity "] [member="Ria Misrani"]
Other: [member="The Harbinger"]

He wove in-between the security and guards, the force helping him to just know where to step and weave. He couldn't be arsed to show credentials when disgruntled yelps filtered up behind his blurred form as he passed. A warning bit out in the force. The marred and scuffed ground of the arena shifted violently beneath the doctor's feet.

Rocks and blood-stained earth exploded in the air like geysers and suddenly he was falling.

"Ommmph-bollocks!" He landed with a thump on some big feet. Neck craned to see the form of a wampa. And a girl. She was the one he sensed earlier. He couldn't explain it but knew it. He straightened immediately, shifting off the beast's feet. Hands came up as if in surrender.

He coughed up a cloud of dust.

"Blimey, don't eat me. I'm with Kathol Outback. Here to rescue you." They'd see the patch around his upper arm, signifying that he was a medic. And hopefully, they'd see that he didn't work for the arena.

Things were unstable all around them, without moving his hands, a blue-tinted force bubble popped up, covering them temporarily from the shifting and falling debris from the surrounding explosions.

 

[Julius Sedaire]

Location: Kal'Shebbol Orbit
Allies: TKO // [member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"]
Enemies: Gentech
Objective: TBD
Post: 2

"Roger that, Bullet Time... We'll pull in and disable, wait for you for further instructions and boarding orders"

With that, Julius began to move his hands over the strange layout of the console of his ship, sitting in a command throne like pilot chair. To the untrained, the ship was utterly alien, with a few jarring bits of Corellian like design here and there. Buttons with odd features or numbers or other telemetric readouts or foreign displays. Knobs not connected to any sort of read-out in a logical way to the human mind. But, with his time with the Monks, he had learned a bit of their culture and style, and what would have taken others minutes or hours barley took him seconds given his familiarity. Read-outs began to glow and change, and the newly discovered pilot smiled in genuine happiness as his ship hummed in readiness. And then he closed his eyes and pressed forward a lever after depressing a button

One second he was at one point above Kal'Shebbol. And the next he was unleashing a torrent of peculiar weaponry right into a surprised Gentech ship as it headed to him, running cold and as slow as possible to not arouse suspicion he guessed. Everything fired at once in one massive wave, and then began firing as quick as it may at will. Julius tapped furiously at the console as the salvos and barrages hit their ship. Oddly enough, minimal to no physical damage was being recorded... However the ship was now limping along as taking great damage, trying to make a jump to hyper-space before whatever was happening to it crippled it one would guess. It was a race now...

 

[Mara D'Lessio Merrill]

9/20+

[member="Julius Sedaire"]

The Bullet Time was far, far faster than it had any right to be. With Mandalorian SLAM thrusters activated, it could accelerate like an interceptor one-twentieth of its size. Despite multiple-redundant inertial dampeners, the seat pressed against Mara's back and head with uncomfortable force. In less than five minutes, she'd be in position to fire on the Gentech ship rising from the polar base.

In the back of her mind, the Force whispered something non-urgent but decidedly odd. Another sensor contact appeared right beside the fleeing Gentech transport. She targeted the new contact and blinked, then checked her screens and verified that Sedaire had vanished -- that another ship like his hadn't just appeared. He'd just pulled off an uncannily precise microjump, on the order of light-seconds. Better than she could do.

The SLAM burn ended, leaving the Bullet Time traveling at a really transcendent speed. When she overtook Sedaire's ship, she'd blitz on past, Hushaby rotary ion cannons burning for the Gentech vessel.

 

[Jorus Merrill]

10/20+
[member="Darron Wraith"]

Beyyr adjusted the sheath of his ultrachrome arri'ryyk and settled into one of the dropship's fold-down seats. "Hurk," he agreed.

"General Beyyr sympathizes with your distaste for the political scene."

"Trolololol."

"However, he fears it is necessary to initiate political contact uninvited, perhaps even unwelcomed."

"Welpwelpwelp."

"He believes this situation is unavoidable, and the Underground's command staff must simply make the best of it, if at all possible."

"Derrrrrp."

"Perhaps His Majesty will prove unusually tractable. There are apparently grounds for optimism in that regard."

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

Post 7 of 20
Objective 3: Find a Biscuit Baron. Get a Youngling Meal. Don't get shot. (not necessarily in that order)
Allies: [member="Elaine Thul"] | [member="Jorus Merrill"] | [member="Orion Trex"] | [member="Kira Vaal"]

When it doubt, barrel roll out.

The YT-2400 was a roughly disc-shaped hunk of durasteel, which the small Anzat flipped on the long edge as though it were a frisbee up-ended by a cross-wind. At the same time, the light freighter dropped under, across, and then came up on the other side of the corvette. Which, had earlier been above them and was now below. Except that they were also inverted upside down.

Truthfully, there was no up or down in space. But the canopy of the ship presented an artificial horizon that created a perception or illusion of some orientation in relation to one self. The sudden and drastic change of the geometry, combined with the G-forces generated by the rapid rotation, was the number one reason why 2-1B had kept the Alderaan Queen well stocked with Dramamine.

Except that the 2-1B had quit.

So... about that space sickness...

Never mind that they had a corvette blasting away at them. Never mind the GenTech fighters swarming them like sand gnats on a Florida beach. The guy in the bottom turret had shot his lunch all over the transparisteel canopy. Except now the bottom turret was the top turret, and everything he'd just spilled out onto the floor was making it rain. The guy in the used-to-be-top-turret was sucking wind before the smell and squick hit him. Then he lost it and lurched on the turret controls.

And while all this was happening, you know what wasn't happening? Shooting back. That's what.

When you're in the middle of a space fight, that was kind of a crucial thing.

The hypochondriac next to him was alternating between red and pale, the sweat having saturated her clothing as she just gripped the console in front of her for dear life and shut her eyes to keep from watching the stars spinning like a roller coaster outside the canopy.

And the little vampire Jedi from Hell? He was sucking a watermelon Jolly Rancher as he made adjustments to the yaw, pitch, and speed by alternating the thrust on the port and starboard sublight engines. He could make the ship turn on a dime, and give you nine cents change. But, such nuanced piloting seemed entirely lost on this motley crew.

The shields were already red-lining and the smell waifing in from the back was definitely something burning. Well, to be more precise, it was an odor of fuel oil with a hint of melting plastic, and slight overtones of vomit.

Tilting his head back, the boy's large, blue eyes scanned the overhead as he caught a whiff of a scent that was more familiar than he'd care to admit. He called it Eau Kark. Patent pending. "Beeeeee-Fooooouuuuur," the youngling knight called out, in the same sort of voice another youngling might have used to shout out 'Mom!' "Something's on fire!" And, with that, he went back to trying to fly this brick.

It had better not be the lateral controls. He'd just fixed that!

...with some mesh tape and chewing gum.

Yeah, it was totally the lateral controls.

"Feth, am I glad to see you guys."

The young Jedi's head came up, as he thought he'd heard a voice. Which was when a hand slapped up against the side of his head and neck, and he realized that - at some point in the whole DO A BARREL ROLL thing - his headset had gone flying off his head without his even being aware of it. A quick scan on the area his seat revealed that the headset was jammed up under the co-pilot's chair. "Hey, could you get that for me?" the young Anzat asked.

In reply, the woman lurched in her seat, slapping a hand over her mouth.

"Uhhh... okay," the boy chirped, trying to at least feign sympathy for the lady's plight. Seriously, it was hard to be all that sympathetic when they were puking up all over his ship. And not shooting back. "Hey, there's a space sickness bag under your seat," the boy remarked.

When your co-pirate was a four year old Clone Trooper... and you flew like a hawk-bat out of hell... space sickness bags under the seat were a must have travel item.

"...and, while you're reaching for that, could you hand me that headset?"

 

[Darron Wraith]

[member="General Beyyr"]

Sitting down next to the impressive General wasn't easy, given they were designed for average sentients. Being large by his own species did nothing to help, but the nearly eight foot tall man next to him made the situation awkward at best. Feeling like a child who was sitting too close to his father, the Jedi made a concerted effort to not show how slowly he was scooting further away just so he could unfold his arms from his chest. Thank goodness I didn't wear my Vanguard armor to this, he mused to himself. A smile crossed his face, the new suit had definitely been an upgrade from a functionality and aesthetics perspective. Was it the old armor he had worn for years on missions and the battlefield?

Absolutely not, but change wasn't bad.

That's why he was being a good soldier for diplomacy.

"Whether he wants to agree with the agreements or not, I am still honor bound to follow your lead. If he will listen to reason, hopefully he will see the benefits of this. One planet can't go it alone in this galaxy." Looking up at the general, he lowered his voice. "If he doesn't, my secondary objective is to keep you alive and get you back safely."

 

[Runi Verin]

Objective: #2
Location: The Tunnels
Allies: [member="Lok Munin"] | [member="Matthew Robinson"] | [member="Astrid Santii"] | [member="Nawago"] | [member="Singularity"] | [member="Ria Misrani"] | @TKO - S&R
Enemies: [member="The Harbinger"] | Rubble
Post Count: 4

“You can try.” Runi grunted sourly as they followed their guide deeper into the access tunnels, her helmet automatically filtering the dust and gloom through a series of shifting low light settings. She had though the list of those that knew about that nickname mercifully short, especially within the ranks of the ramshackle Outbackers, yet it seemed it was clearly not short enough if it was following her down here. Someone obviously couldn’t keep their mouth shut. Someone she would take special pains in tracking down once they were off this rock, starting with one [member="Gabriel Lethe"]. “Won’t work out well for you if you do, but you can certainly try.”

The sound of retreating feet ahead of them caused their guide to pull the team up short, the tunnel instantly stilling at a single raise of the diminutive man’s hand before he went on alone. As the most forward team in this section, the passages before them should have been vacant, save for the occasional dust-mouse that made the warrens home. While a far cry from an expert on such matters, Runi was willing to go out on a limb and hazard they didn’t wear boots.

“There was something ahead.” The guide announced as he returned to the group, a strange looking satchel held in his hands. With the team still keeping their peace, it was quiet enough to make out a faint beeping emanating from within. “This wasn’t here when we surveyed it last night.”

Between the faint beeping and the sound of booted feet, still fast retreating in the distance, it didn’t take a genius to work out what was about to happen. She would’ve sworn, the blackened curse automatically loaded for bear on the tip of her tongue, but it wouldn’t have changed anything. There was precious enough time as it was, and as satisfying as it would have been, even a choice expletive would’ve slowed her down.

Instead she allowed the force to surge within her, lending itself as an unnatural burst of swiftness to her movements as she jolted forward, snatching the bag right out from the guide’s hands without a passing word. Runi Verin might not have penned the holobook of terrible ideas, but it seemed she wasn’t afraid to take a few notes from it. Within a blink of an eye she had cleared the distance and taken the corner, her arm arcing back as far as it would travel before whipping forward once more, hurling the satchel charges down corridor for all she was worth.

Not a moment too soon, it seemed, for the charges detonated just before they impacted on the far wall, the explosion ripping through the twisting tunnels as a wall of fire and sound. A destructive herald for the foundations and bedrock that came tumbling down in its wake as sections of the palace and gladiatorial arena reasserted themselves several floors below where they once stood.

 

[Jorus Merrill]

11/20+

[member="Darron Wraith"]

"Yarp."

"General Beyyr is pleased that you are in agreement as to our relative priorities."

"Blurrgh."

"He confesses to mild unease and even a degree of distaste regarding this mission."

"Zummm."

"He would far rather be flying, for example. Such missions generally produce results that are easier to quantify."

"Kablammm-derp."

"A vessel destroyed remains destroyed. A king's mind, once changed, can change again in an instant. The indicators for success are also far less precise and reliable."

 

[Zetha Vesh]

Objective: Survival
Location: Outside the Palace
Allies: [member="Kimiko"] [member="Bryce Bantam"] [member="Nate the Bounty Hunter"]
Enemies: [member="Cronas Plagueborn"]
Post: 5

Zetha's eyes widened in panic when the blockhead's thick hand wrapped around her bicep. With one fluid motion, her arm was twisted around behind her, pushed and twisted painfully. Zetha cried out in pain, dropping to her knees. Her lightsaber fell from her hand, deactivating with a hiss. Her arm twisted around more, in naturally impossible ways. With a sickening crunch, a new stabbing pain appeared. Zetha began to scream. "Get off me! Get off!"