Lee Tanos
Forlorn Protector
Sector AK-23
Deep Space
Along the Perlemian Trade Route
The vessel was motionless as they approached, wreathed in the absolute darkness of space that surrounded it. No lights were visible, whether external or internal, but the sensor array on the small gunship had detected plenty of waste heat still lingering in the area, evidence that the freighter had been under power, if not making way, not too long ago. Now that they were close, and with no discernible threat or cause for a rush, the gunship made several slow passes, mapping the exterior for any signs of damage or an easy ingress point.
Seated at an unused console on the 'bridge' of the Cyclone-class vessel Whirlwind, Lee fixed his gaze on the derelict freighter, took hold of the force, and reach out with his mind. A moment later he withdrew, then shook his head in mute sorrow, only able to confirm what the ships sensors had already stated. No lifesigns.
It took only a few minutes to further confirm that there were no signs of external damage, and Lee soon found himself in the rear of the gunship, gearing up in an armored hardsuit, alongside the eight members of the boarding party. He scanned the group, and couldn't help but grimace at the sight of mismatched equipment and an almost tangible lack of discipline evident. The lack of formality was rampant in everything the MPTC did, and though it was hard to blame them, given how adolescent the faction was, the Arcadian side of him couldn't help but be dismayed. His home system was even now engaged in talks to join the organization, and he wondered what the officers of the Federal Fleet would think about the ragtag group he was running with now.
A sudden wave of anger and revulsion struck him, so visceral and fierce that he flinched, and turned towards the source. One of the troopers, face hidden behind a sealed helmet, faced the wall opposite, but though he didn't look directly at the Jedi, Lee could practically feel the contempt and fury radiating out from him. But the man didn't move, and when the sergeant started calling out orders the feeling passed.
The boarding went smoothly, the TCAF troopers were more than competent despite the lack of uniformity, and no unseen threats rose up to confront them. Onboard, the ship seemed just as deserted as it had appeared from the outside. Power was out entirely, with neither air nor artificial gravity active, so progress was slow. After almost 45 minutes, a lengthy stretch of time for a fairly small vessel, the sergeant announced the ship clear and dispatched the team to various locations, to restore power and check logs.
The bridge was just as silent and eerily untouched as everywhere else on the ship, and while the sergeant and another trooper began to pull up the ships logs Lee found a secluded corner to sit down and meditate, hoping that a moment of clarity might give him some clue as to the mystery of what had happened. Just slightly aft of the bridge and around a corner was a door into the captains cabin. The hydraulic emergency handle worked as it had on every other door and Lee stepped inside.
Nausea struck instantly, a haze of despair and horror assaulted his senses for the briefest of moments and then faded. Inside the hardsuit he was tense, his hand on his blaster, and perspiration poured down his face. Something had happened here that had left a distinct mark on the force. It didn't take long to find something amiss. The door to the washroom was sealed shut, the controls burned out and the hydraulics disabled. After a brief examination, Lee reached out and touched the door.
He recoiled instantly as if struck, then holstered his blaster and keyed a channel back to the sergeant. “Sergeant, this is Tanos. What does the ship manifest give for crew?." There was a brief pause, then the gruff voice of the sergeant came back, crackling slightly as the radio bounced between the passageways.
“19 souls, mostly human, all Centaran citizens. Why?”
Lee said nothing for a long time, simply stared at the door and wondered what manner of creature would condemn 19 souls to die in such a brutal manner.
They left the door sealed at first, instead confirming the other facts of the raid. The ship had been disabled by ion cannon fire and then boarded, an operation that apparently went so smoothly for the pirates there were no signs of forced entry whatsoever. The crew had been rounded up and, after unlocking all doors and handing over codes, forced to crowd into the CO's washroom. From there the pirates had stripped the vessel clean, the cargo hold was completely empty, even down to the two hidden compartments in the reactor space.
Then, rather than simply leave, the pirates had disabled the reactor entirely, shutting it down to cold iron. Over the next 12 hours all air and heat had left the ship, and the 19 crew sealed away had evidently shredded their hands and beat their arms bloody, as best they could in a zero-g environment, before suffocating in frigid agony.
It was grim enough that even the sergeant had turned away from the sight. As Lee and the previously enraged trooper were the only ones not utterly shocked by the image of the frozen disfigured corpses they were tasked with pulling the bodies out and zipping them up in sealed vacuum bags for transportation back to Centares. They hadn't gotten far when the comms buzzed, a pulse from the officer on the Whirlwind.
“Tanos, sergeant, we've got something unusual. Long range scanners picked up a sniff of of something lurking by the asteroids. Whatever it was they didn't stick around, we ran an active scan there was nothing."
The sergeant said nothing, he was out of his depth. But Lee had been placed on the mission for a reason, and he also knew that there was a second unit inbound, though whether it was another Cyclone or simply a squadron of fighters, he had no idea.
“Lets stay put, Lieutenant. If its the pirates they're probably still nearby, trying to figure out if they can grab an extra prize. If it's a scav or smuggler, then they know better than to try something by now.”
The Lieutenant, a former junior officer in the Silver Armada, was used to following orders of Jedi, and signed off with a clipped 'yes sir,' an action he probably regretted a moment later. But no sooner had the comms cut off than Lee felt a burst of anger from the trooper again, as if he'd just been reminded of who he was working alongside.
Not for the first time, Lee found himself wondering about the role of the Jedi and their place in the galaxy, and whether all the talk of justice and hope and the light were real, or just meaningless words bandied by warlords who wore different stripes.
Deep Space
Along the Perlemian Trade Route
The vessel was motionless as they approached, wreathed in the absolute darkness of space that surrounded it. No lights were visible, whether external or internal, but the sensor array on the small gunship had detected plenty of waste heat still lingering in the area, evidence that the freighter had been under power, if not making way, not too long ago. Now that they were close, and with no discernible threat or cause for a rush, the gunship made several slow passes, mapping the exterior for any signs of damage or an easy ingress point.
Seated at an unused console on the 'bridge' of the Cyclone-class vessel Whirlwind, Lee fixed his gaze on the derelict freighter, took hold of the force, and reach out with his mind. A moment later he withdrew, then shook his head in mute sorrow, only able to confirm what the ships sensors had already stated. No lifesigns.
It took only a few minutes to further confirm that there were no signs of external damage, and Lee soon found himself in the rear of the gunship, gearing up in an armored hardsuit, alongside the eight members of the boarding party. He scanned the group, and couldn't help but grimace at the sight of mismatched equipment and an almost tangible lack of discipline evident. The lack of formality was rampant in everything the MPTC did, and though it was hard to blame them, given how adolescent the faction was, the Arcadian side of him couldn't help but be dismayed. His home system was even now engaged in talks to join the organization, and he wondered what the officers of the Federal Fleet would think about the ragtag group he was running with now.
A sudden wave of anger and revulsion struck him, so visceral and fierce that he flinched, and turned towards the source. One of the troopers, face hidden behind a sealed helmet, faced the wall opposite, but though he didn't look directly at the Jedi, Lee could practically feel the contempt and fury radiating out from him. But the man didn't move, and when the sergeant started calling out orders the feeling passed.
The boarding went smoothly, the TCAF troopers were more than competent despite the lack of uniformity, and no unseen threats rose up to confront them. Onboard, the ship seemed just as deserted as it had appeared from the outside. Power was out entirely, with neither air nor artificial gravity active, so progress was slow. After almost 45 minutes, a lengthy stretch of time for a fairly small vessel, the sergeant announced the ship clear and dispatched the team to various locations, to restore power and check logs.
The bridge was just as silent and eerily untouched as everywhere else on the ship, and while the sergeant and another trooper began to pull up the ships logs Lee found a secluded corner to sit down and meditate, hoping that a moment of clarity might give him some clue as to the mystery of what had happened. Just slightly aft of the bridge and around a corner was a door into the captains cabin. The hydraulic emergency handle worked as it had on every other door and Lee stepped inside.
Nausea struck instantly, a haze of despair and horror assaulted his senses for the briefest of moments and then faded. Inside the hardsuit he was tense, his hand on his blaster, and perspiration poured down his face. Something had happened here that had left a distinct mark on the force. It didn't take long to find something amiss. The door to the washroom was sealed shut, the controls burned out and the hydraulics disabled. After a brief examination, Lee reached out and touched the door.
He recoiled instantly as if struck, then holstered his blaster and keyed a channel back to the sergeant. “Sergeant, this is Tanos. What does the ship manifest give for crew?." There was a brief pause, then the gruff voice of the sergeant came back, crackling slightly as the radio bounced between the passageways.
“19 souls, mostly human, all Centaran citizens. Why?”
Lee said nothing for a long time, simply stared at the door and wondered what manner of creature would condemn 19 souls to die in such a brutal manner.
They left the door sealed at first, instead confirming the other facts of the raid. The ship had been disabled by ion cannon fire and then boarded, an operation that apparently went so smoothly for the pirates there were no signs of forced entry whatsoever. The crew had been rounded up and, after unlocking all doors and handing over codes, forced to crowd into the CO's washroom. From there the pirates had stripped the vessel clean, the cargo hold was completely empty, even down to the two hidden compartments in the reactor space.
Then, rather than simply leave, the pirates had disabled the reactor entirely, shutting it down to cold iron. Over the next 12 hours all air and heat had left the ship, and the 19 crew sealed away had evidently shredded their hands and beat their arms bloody, as best they could in a zero-g environment, before suffocating in frigid agony.
It was grim enough that even the sergeant had turned away from the sight. As Lee and the previously enraged trooper were the only ones not utterly shocked by the image of the frozen disfigured corpses they were tasked with pulling the bodies out and zipping them up in sealed vacuum bags for transportation back to Centares. They hadn't gotten far when the comms buzzed, a pulse from the officer on the Whirlwind.
“Tanos, sergeant, we've got something unusual. Long range scanners picked up a sniff of of something lurking by the asteroids. Whatever it was they didn't stick around, we ran an active scan there was nothing."
The sergeant said nothing, he was out of his depth. But Lee had been placed on the mission for a reason, and he also knew that there was a second unit inbound, though whether it was another Cyclone or simply a squadron of fighters, he had no idea.
“Lets stay put, Lieutenant. If its the pirates they're probably still nearby, trying to figure out if they can grab an extra prize. If it's a scav or smuggler, then they know better than to try something by now.”
The Lieutenant, a former junior officer in the Silver Armada, was used to following orders of Jedi, and signed off with a clipped 'yes sir,' an action he probably regretted a moment later. But no sooner had the comms cut off than Lee felt a burst of anger from the trooper again, as if he'd just been reminded of who he was working alongside.
Not for the first time, Lee found himself wondering about the role of the Jedi and their place in the galaxy, and whether all the talk of justice and hope and the light were real, or just meaningless words bandied by warlords who wore different stripes.
[member="Arcanus Sunstrider"] | [member="Olivander Cardiff"] | [member="Icarus Volcata"] | [member="Mathias Zaren"] | [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"] | [member="Mirax Eygan"] | [member="Kirie Ito"]
OOC NoteThis is all a bit compressed for now, but the scope will begin to expand rapidly. The plan is to tie in to the MPTC's upcoming NPC opposition in a gradual and measured manner. For now, it's gonna be investigating a group of particularly vicious and unusually well-informed pirates. If you can tie something into that, go for it. if you have another idea, hit me up and we'll hash it out.
