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A Maruader-Class Corvette sits hidden within the shadow of a moon. Many if they saw this would think of Pirates laying in wait for prey to come by, but it is more then that. Within the ship something of importance is happening. Ships arrive and drop off passengers only to leave immediately after. Those passengers were met by a protocol droid and led in practical silence to a waiting room. Once inside the room the droid finally speaks, "Please make yourself comfortable and let me know if you need anything. The Masters will meet with you shortly, but in the meantime feel free to talk amongst yoursleves."
Spoiler
LET THE GAME BEGIN!
Also introduce yourself.
...
That is all.
A human with a weather worn face enters the room carrying a a hard rifle case and a canvas bag common to all soldiers. Shucking off his pack and in a deep gruff voice he says, "Bring me a drink, make it a Black Ale."
A young man of a simple, swarthy complexion enters the waiting room. After checking some of the pockets in his white spacer jacket, he nods with a smile at the protocol droid. "Water will be fine, thank you..." He spares the briefest of nods to the only man in the room, his eyes inevitably falling on the rifle case. After taking measure of the chamber, he finds a seat with a good vantage point, facing the door and capable of at least keeping peripherals on the stranger. The heavy blaster and it's holster sag on his belt as he musters a greeting. "Quite a presentation out here, wouldn't you say?"
Last edited by babel_matrix : 06-27-2011 at 11:19 PM.
With a hard squint Decker gives the young man a quick look over, Decker speaks in his hard voice "Kid, once you've been around once or twice you'll realize that all staging areas are the same. No matter the system or planet, brass is brass. They enjoy the show."
Tarl did not like this, not one bit. Some say that it's a leader's job to think of all possible outcomes and weigh every action on what potential benefits and consequences they create. Yet now Tarl was firmly focused on the negative, specifically how this could blow up in his face.
Nothing about it rang true, the mysterious message, the drop off, the droid asking to wait for "the Master" whoever that was. Why had he ever agreed to such an obvious trap? He asked himself. And the answer always returned, because they promised him what he desired most. Besides, he wasn't important enough to kill with such an elaborate trap. As much as his ego would like to pretend otherwise. You had to be realistic about these sorts of things.
Entering the room Tarl saw the two humans making small talk. One, obviously a veteran the other, even more obviously was not.
"Gentleman," Tarl nodded toward the pair before taking a seat.
Noticing the scarred Khil and that he's carring himself with grace of long time military officer, Decker gives a derisive snort, "Don't look now boy, but we got an officer on deck."
Then with an appraising look, Decker stands up and offers a hand and says, "Well at least it looks like you've survived a **** storm or two, which means you have something going for you. Decker Sandburner, it would appear we'll working together."
The door once again slides open revealing the insectoid outline of a light green Verpine framed from behind by a hulking guard droid of roughly the same hue. The Verpine, preoccupied with something he is viewing on his datapad, fails to notice the protocol droid and walks directly into it. He stumbles back a few steps dropping his datapad to the floor with a loud clatter. As the droid begins to apologize, the Verpine scrambles to pick up the datapad only to dislodge a hydrospanner and a stack of old datacards from his vest, which also clatter to the floor.
After a few ungraceful moments, the Verpine recovers his gear and stands waiving off the help of the protocol droid. He gestures for his guard droid to stand by the door and the green droid chooses a tactical position and stands motionless.
The Verpine spots Orrick, waves enthusiastically and scurries over, "Orrick! This is terribly exciting don't you think?" He excitedly taps his datapad, "Their shipboard security system is just superb! I'd love to know what procedures they are running. Do you think they'd let me inspect the mainframe?"
"While I personally think that's a glorious idea, Chissk," Orrick responds with an honest smile, "I suspect they'll be a bit selfish with those choice bits." Orrick visibly relaxes as the room begins to fill. He leans back in his seat and stares idly at Chissk's guard droid. "A show by the 'brass' is all well and good, Sandburner, but this 'Master' business has a certain... foreboding to it. I suspect we're all here under the same pretenses?"
Tarl takes the offered hand and nods, looking the soldier over. "You seem to have faced some fire before yourself. Lieutenant Tarl Fainor."
Tarl was about to greet the other human when he heard a clattering behind him. Still edgy he whirled around to see the verpine struggling to gather his equipment. "Heh, now that looks to be a man to have at your side in a firefight." He muttered.
Walking over to the other two he held out his hand. "Tarl Fainor, any chance either of you know what's going on here?"
Orrick glides right past the official's sarcasm."Orrick Curovao, and I sincerely agree with your observations, Lieutenant." Orrick gestures to the Verpine. "A fine partner in any struggle. But on to your query... I fathom we're likely as much in the dark as you are."
Last edited by babel_matrix : 06-28-2011 at 07:59 AM.
"Well that answers my question for you, and yes I was aware. I lost my pocket scrambler about a week ago and have yet to replace it." [OOC: Or I forgot to buy the damn thing.]
Not bad, Tarl thought. Could have used a decent techy more times than I can count.
Orrick suppresses the chuckle that began to bubble towards the surface. He takes the offered hand in a firm grip."I have the pride of claiming multiple talents, Fainor, and accused of having others as well. I would be your resident expert in matters requiring a head for business and the spine needed to deal with politicians." Withdrawing his hand from the officer's grip, Orrick's eyes drift again to Sandburner's rifle case. "What of you two fine fellows? Martial experts, one and all?"
Last edited by babel_matrix : 06-28-2011 at 12:10 PM.
Resuming his seat Decker gives a sharp look at Orrick,"You could say that. I've stomped mud and spilt blood on what seems like a hundred worlds. I specialize in stealthy insertions and demolition. I also have been known to provide fire support."
"A technical expert, a businessmen, and a soldier," Tarl nodded to each in turn. "I'm a tactician myself." He stood silent for a second.
"The only piece that gives me pause is you Mr Curovao, but then you're blaster there seems to suggest you're more than some office bureaucrat." He nods toward the heavy blaster at Orrick's side.
The swarthy gentleman pats his blaster without taking his eyes off the room's occupants. "Just there for when talks go poorly, Lieutenant... I'm no stranger to blaster fire, regardless of my efforts to become one. I know my way around a medkit and a cockpit, too, if the need arises."
Nodding his head towards Chissk, he adds, "I used to think myself handy with computers, too, until I met him... faster than an Imperial Knight's saber and twice as bright besides."
Last edited by babel_matrix : 06-29-2011 at 12:46 AM.
The Zeltron was the last to enter, and were it not for her light-red-almost-pink skin, the embarrassment would've been beyond legible upon her visage. But just as she strode into the room, she quickly found a seat along with the rest of the group. "Wrong coordinates..." Murmured just below what would bone's inside voice.
The droid returns with your drinks before uttering the words you have all been waiting for, "The masters will see you now. Please, follow me." He leeds you through a door into what appears to be a rather spartan conference room. Only a few pieces of furniture are in the room. One being a large ornate semi-circle table. Seated at the table are four cloaked figures, each wearing a white mask in the shape of a Rancor's face. The one on the right, obviously the largest of the four, spoke, "I apologize for the secrecy, but I'm sure you understand it is neccesary for those in our positions." His voice was deep and gravely, then another voice was heard and this one was in stark contrast to the former. The voice, obviously femine, light and sweet sounding belonged to the one on left.
"You all are obviously interested in this ending this war or you wouldn't be here. We think that we can do just that, with you're help of course. The risks will be great, but the rewards even greater." A third voice spoke, "To end this war we will need many things, but the pressing is a fleet. However we lack the means to raise one withour gathering due attention, but lady luck has presented us with a rare opportunity." The voice was that of the figure on the inside left and this figure pressed a button and a hologram of man appeared in the center of room. "Admiral Virtuo Marcelli, also known as the Red Death for his once signature red ships. he was once an Admiral in the Imperial Navy, but he deserted when it was reported that Roan Fel had been killed. Now this wasn't uncommon , but what was uncommon was most deserters don't take a Pellaeon-Class Star Destroyer and two Ardent-Class Fast Frigates with them along with all the crews and cargo.
He turned to Piracy waging war against the Empire and merchants alike. Using his capital ships as mobile bases of operations he was very succesful and would be a huge player in the current war if he hadn't been captured on a rendvous with his family. Since then his location has been unknown and the capital ships dissapeared. However we have recently been made aware that his captors, a powerful shipping organization by the name of the Riteni Coporation, have arranged to ransom him back from a group of thugs who freed him last month. We believe that now is the time to strike.
In three days the trade is happening and we want you to take the Admiral. We are having Captain Anere asist you in your efforts. If you accept this job RN-24 will take you to the Captains ship and you can leave immediately, if not there is a shuttle waiting to take you wherever you wish." With that the four get up and walk out with the one who didn't speak stopping at the door for a brief second and gives a stare that turns you uneasy before following the others and leaving.
RN-24 leads those who will follow to the hanger and into a GPE-7300 Space Transport. He only stops once he has reached the Captain's office. The Captain, a pretty woman in early twenties, is sitting at a desk that seems to be built for someone much larger then she is. "I am Captain Betana Anere and will be acting as your support in this mission. If you have any questions about the mission ask them now, because once we reach Zeltros we won't have much time to organize a plan and execute it." She motions to some chairs in front of her desk. "I suggest you take a seat as we are about to take off." Once you are seated she speaks into a comlink telling the pilot to take off and to initiate lightspeed as soon as he is ready. "Now what do you have to ask me?"
Decker remains standing with his arms crossed, he speaks up in his gravelly voice, "First off, what's the source of your intel, i've been bit in the ass one to many times due faulty intel. Second is our target a willing participant or will this snatch and grab be of the hostile variety?"
She turns to you sizing you up in one quick look. "Our intel is classified. All I can say that it is credible. As for his willingness, of that I am uncertain. He is unaware of plan to free him from his captors although I assume he would be willing, but it is best to plan for a hostile reception.
"Classified." Decker gives a hard glare and mutters under his breath. "That means this mission is going to go side-ways, in a hurry." With a wweary look Decker continues, "What's the extraction plan? What kind support do we have? Air cover? What are the rules of engagement? Are we going noisey, or is mission on the hush?"
"So, we are being backed by four individuals who won't show us their features, sent on a mission with only assurances of proper intel, to go rescue a pirate thus creating another potential faction. Somehow leading to stopping the war. I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess that how the pirate will help end the war is also classified, yes?" Tarl slowly shook his head, as though to clear out what he was hearing. Well no point bitching about it, no important details were changed and he was still willing to take the long odds to stop this war.
"How detailed is our intel? Do we have location? Numbers? Potential map of the area? To plan I need facts."
Orrick Curovao quietly awaits the intel in full, pondering the facts so far. Less than three days to find a particular criminal exchange on a pleasure world, thwart it and keep the live goods alive as we make our escape... The masks must have been to keep straight faces... Despite his inner-cynicism, he began pondering his connections through his father's company; Riteni surely must have some relationship with ImpEx, be it a partnership or a rivalry...
Though the implications to Galactic politics sailed over his head, Chissk's antennae perked up at the mention of the Pellaeon-Class Star Destroyer. Such a ship would certainly be a tremendous asset to any fledgling fleet.
He catches himself daydreaming about the scale of the Star Destroyer and finds that he's walked to their transport without even noticing. He takes a seat in front of the young woman. She was "young", right? Chissk always has a tough time determining the relative age of humans. He shrugged and pulled out his datapad.
"Let's see what we can learn," Chissk thinks to himself as he begins rapidly tapping in holonet queries.
Throughout the whole she took it in awe and confusion. While for the most part she tried to understand it, but everything just seemed to fly over her head in the end. She was still new to all of this. But she'd try and work her way to finishing this mission.
At the ship, she nodded her head with a soft smile. But that quickly disappeared to a look of horror, shock, fear; "Zeltros, my home...?" and then finally surprise and hope showed within her bright emerald eyes. "Oh! Are we going to get a chance to go to Paradise? I do so love that place!
"Wait... is the ride there going to be dangerous?"
Addressing Freyja, he casually replies, "The ride there may be the least of our woes... regardless, you seem equipped to handle yourself." He eyes her holstered lightsaber briefly before reviewing his own datapad, seeking information regarding relations between ImpEx and the Riteni Corporation. Failing that, he'd find some other shipping company that could provide some connections...
Once finished reviewing the information, however, he continues to stare at the datapad, using it as a cover while reaching out with the Force, probing his surroundings to see if Freyja Ceru was like him... or anyone else, for that matter.
Spoiler
Use Computer (gathering digital intel on other shipping company relations with Riteni): (1d20+9)[28]
Use the Force (Sensing Force-Sensitive individuals or items in my vicinity): (1d20+9)[14]
"Who me? This?" She pulled the handle of the lightsaber out of its holster, giving it a look over as if it were a foreign object of curiosity. "I'm no Jedi, kind sir!" But the thought of it drew a soft giggle and grin from her lips.
While the staff of metal was a simple, straight silver one, it was clear even from a distance that it had seen countless fights. The metal was scarred, blackened at some parts, but all the while it kept a gleam of pride--it had been well loved and kept throughout its existence. Without it ignited she twirled the staff of metal around in her fingers a few times as if were naught more than a light drum stick before placing it back in its holster as she crossed her legs at the knee.
"No talent for the Force in me. Just trained in how to wield the blade." The Zeltron shook her head slowly. "Nothing special about me."
The captain is unfazed by the barrage of questions and complaints. She cooly turns to each of them in order calmy giving them an answer. "The extraction plan is to intercept him in transit. We believe they are taking him to the Jinari Starport by means of back alley surface streets in the Vion sector. You won't have any air support, but we believe they are trying to make this a hush-hush operation and won't have any either. I do have some good new for you, while before the Opp you have to keep covert when you engage the transport you can bring out the big toys and make some big noise, and you can shoot first." She turns to the next in line.
"You are correcty in that assumption, it is classified. Out intel isn't the best I've worked with, but it is better then most. They willl be taking the Main street in the Vion sector. We believe he is being escorted by four to five armed personel and will himself be in an unarmed speeder. The exact location of the fight will be up to you," She presses a button and a holomap of the Vion sector appears. That good enough?"
"The ride there should be uneventful, as far as we know they don't know we're coming. However Paradise is out of the question this is a snatch and grab, not a pleasure tour."
Roll Results
Kliv "Chissk"
Spoiler
The Riteni Coporation's motive for getting him out of the pirate trade is obvious, as a powerful shipping magnate they were often attacked by the Admiral and his men. Why they kept him alive is less obvious, you find a few rumours that the Owner himself has a personnel vendetta agaisnt the Admiral. Although they fail to mention wise. It is obvious that nothing further on the matter can simply be gleamed from the holonet. As to their capabilities, the Riteni Coporation has a large fleet consisteing of over 2,000 merchants ships and a large annual income. Their resources must be great.
babel "Orrick"
Spoiler
Computer:Other shipping companies seem to have fairly cordial relations with Riteni despite them being a powerful competitor. They are known to have a rivalry with the Pouri shipping companiy and it is rumored that the two have often conducted raids on each others ships and bases. It could be Coporate competition at its worst or a baseless rumour started to further the cause of another shipping company. You can't tell.
Force: You are unable to detect anyone strong in the force.
Excellent, Tarl thought as he hungrily looked at the map, an idea slowly starting to work its way through his mind. As he cautiously stepped away from the girl swinging the lightsaber around. True it wasn't turned on, but he had seen first hand what those blades were capable of.
"What of the thugs? If we know which direction their approach is then we may be able to safely take them out and just do the switch ourselves in disguise."
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To End a War-IC
