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ComNet > Stormtrooper Corps > Archived Stormtrooper Corps Story Board > Dead Men Tell No Lies (Wraith)
 
 
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Topic:  Dead Men Tell No Lies (Wraith)
Arnaut
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Arnaut
 
[VE-ARMY] Platoon Sergeant
 
Post Number:  716
Total Posts:  903
Joined:  Jan 2006
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  Dead Men Tell No Lies (Wraith)
April 22, 2008 5:31:13 PM    View the profile of Arnaut 
A single twitch, just an imperceptible flutter of the eye was all that Arnaut needed to affirm the man’s timidity. That and the fact that, from the look of his eyes, Arnaut guessed the man probably wanted to piss his pants. Why shouldn’t he? He was in the room with a man that was, according to rumors, the cause of the death of an entire planet. It was bitterly hilarious, and Arnaut would’ve laughed had that man who, according to the rumors, killed a planet, had not been Arnaut himself. He let out an exasperated sigh, tired of dealing with yet another frightened attorney.

The man sat down, laying his holopad and a stylus onto the table next to a audio-recorder. Arnaut could see from the way he squeamed in his chair that he really, really did not want to be right there right then. Too bad. Arnaut leaned back in his own chair, just a few meters away from the other man, separated by a chain fence. He stared straight ahead defiantly, waiting for the inevitable barrage of questions.

The other man began to sweat and undid his collar a little. He tried to cover his fear by acting like he was fiddling around with his recorder, until his nervousness and the shake of his hands made him drop it onto the floor. He made a few mumbled apologies and bent down to pick it up.

“Are we going to start this or not?” Arnaut asked irritably. The sudden, actual use of words startled the man, causing him to jerk upright, right into the bottom of the table. He yelped and fell backwards.

“I can see this is going to be an interesting session,” Arnaut muttered, face in his hands.




Two hours later, Arnaut was sitting in a dingy cell of stone and filth. His interview was over; they had very little need of him. Apart from the need to keep him locked up under three guard escort at all times. It wasn’t fun. Not by a long shot.

Arnaut laid his head back. He felt...weak. Helpless. Tired. It was three days since they’d been imprisoned, three days with minimal food, without being able to see any of their superiors, barely being able to see each other. The entire squad was faced with charges of conspiracy, murder in the first degree, and manslaughter on a level that could send them to jail for more years than Arnaut would care to imagine.

Apparently, as the story went, the entire Wraith squad was in league with Albatross. The murder charges were on the entirety of the Derrond squad, which now came to a complete nine with the last two assassinated just a few days before. That’s what the stories said anyways. There were a lot of stories, but they almost all agreed on that fact.

Along with that, the squad, due to alleged connections to Albatross, was charged with over one hundred million accounts of manslaughter with at least 500,000 more pending. Basically the entire population of Serrell minus those who could make it out.

It was....was...ridiculous, to say the least. Arnaut was still trying to wrap his head around the scale of the charges that were being pressed on them. They’d told their story, hundreds of times. About the virus, the bombs, Villman’s betrayal...everything. It was like they weren’t listening. That was most disturbing of all. That meant that Albatross, somehow, someway, still had the ability to manipulate the inner workings of the VE, at least in some respects.

Of course, it wasn’t only Albatross’ unseen hand guiding the system. The people were up in arms against Wraith squad. Instead of wanted pictures for Albatross, vidscreens and holonews channels broadcasted hour-by-hour, minute-by-minute coverage of the case against the Wraiths. Their faces were plastered on every screen, their images known by every Imperial citizen even remotely in contact with any news outlet for the past two weeks. Albatross, meanwhile, made a grand escape, dodging the Imperials sent after him as easily as he had the Wraiths before. With the amount of influence he showed over the Wraith lawsuit, it wasn’t surprising that he’d managed to outwit and outrun every Imperial action taken against him since Serrell. In fact, Serrell had been the last place Albatrosss’ and the Imperial’s ships had been close enough to even exchange fire.




Weeks dragged into months, and Albatross started to become impatient. The longer the lawsuit dragged on, the more likely it was that the Wraiths would find a some shred of evidence to prove their innocence. He knew this and he knew he had to end it, some way, some how, before that could happen. It was then that Albatross made his first mistake.

It was day 243 of the Galactic Standard Calendar, three months since the Wraiths incarceration, at four-thirty in the morning. The Wraiths were in their cells, and guardsman Renan was at his post, nervously tapping his stylus on the edge of the desk. Any moment now. That was what he’d been told, right? He went over the plan again anyway, just to be sure. It was the fourteenth time he’d reviewed the plan in the last two hours.

Poison, a small does, had been delivered inside the meals to the squad today. Not enough to kill, but enough to make them pretty ill. If they had any sense at all, they’d call for the guard after they started regurgitating. And he would walk in and shoot them. He could claim self-defense or somesort; the first had attacked Renan while he was attending to him and the rest had gone beserk. He’d been told that, just today the security cameras had been taken offline for repairs. No one would know at all what had really happened.

Or so he’d been told. Did it really seem plausible that all six of them had went beserk? Did he really need to...kill...all of them? He thought for a moment. No, his worries were unfounded. They had promised he’d be safe, right? And they sure had promised a lot of money, too. On the salary he had, Renan couldn’t afford not to take the deal.

“...urgh...guuard...” came a weakened cry. It echoed down the hall and caused Renan to jump. Time to decide. He picked up his carbine, stared at it for a second, and then headed off. He flicked the safety off as he approached the cell. For a second he had the distinct feeling of being watched. Before opening the cell, he went around and checked on the others. Everyone was asleep. No one was watching him.  Still... He keyed the entry to the cell, put in his finger into the reader and swiped his card. The cell door slid open quietly, allowing Renan to scoot in quickly out of the uncomfortable air of the hall. He breathed a little better and then focused on the problem at hand.

The man in question was lying on his bed, facing the wall, the blanket wrapped tightly around him. He groaned again. Renan didn’t give him a second longer, whipping up his gun and firing three times into the body. The room was still. Slowly, Renan approached the bed, whipping back the covers and finding...pillows? They were torn and burnt from where Renan’s shots had seared them. If there were pillows there, though, then where...

A shadow unfurled itself from the darkness underneath the cot and pounced upon the surprised Renan with lightning speed. The first kick brought him down on his back, the second broke his leg at the knee, and the third nearly caved in his skull. It all took place faster than Renan could cry out or speak at all. He gurgled something incoherently, blood frothing from the mouth. Another swift kick to the head silenced him.

His attacker worked quickly. He stripped the body down; keycards, identification, ammunition, credits. All of it. Lastly he picked up the carbine and dragged the bloodied body out of the still open cell door. This point was crucial. If anyone walked in now, and happened to see anything, it was all over. They’d all be as good as dead. Luckily for them, no one did.

Renan’s attacker placed Renan’s finger on each door and slid the card through, opening the other five cells. He was met with groggy people and cries of astonishment. He gave each one the choice of staying, knowing that, they’d probably be dead within the week by assassin or otherwise, or to break out. No one stayed behind.

They took two blasters out of Renan’s office, as well as a copy of Renan’s finger print on a piece of clear adhesive and made their way out of the quiet building. So far nothing had happened, but it wasn’t bound to stay that way for long. As they passed through the deserted halls, they noticed that all the security cameras seemed to be off. Luck was once again on their side. Their escape had gone largely unnoticed it seemed.

Two floors up, in the belly of the prisoner complex, they met their first guards. Just two of them, patrolling the hall. They dispatched them quickly, stripping down the stormtrooper armor and arming themselves a bit more. The two white-clad members of their breakout group took point, being less likely to be shot at than any of the others.

Using Renan’s clearance, the six of them made it to the roof. There was a transport there, just a small police speeder. They hopped inside, hotwired it as quickly as they could, and blasted off into the Tadath night sky. They were immediately hailed by the jail’s air traffic controller. He was asking for clearance codes. They searched through Renan’s possession’s, found nothing, and ignored the comm. It would probably get them in trouble later, but that didn’t matter.

In the back, Renan’s attacker was just starting to wipe the blood off his boots. One of the others approached him.

“How’re you doing?” he asked quietly. “Arnaut?”

Arnaut looked up. He seemed...dazed. His eyes were glazed over, as if he wasn’t paying attention, even though Kanderin knew he was looking right at him.

“Fine, fine,” Arnaut said, flexing his hand and letting his towel drop to the floor. “Just...bewildered. That it came to this.”

“You knew he was bound to try and come for us sooner or later,” Kanderin said sympathetically.

“No, no, not that. Breaking out. We’re on the run now, you know. We won’t be able to go back. Possibly forever.” Arnaut’s eyes were dead serious, unflinching. Kanderin was silent for a long time.

“I know,” he whispered, more to himself than Arnaut.

“Good tip,” Arnaut said, cutting through the uneasiness. “On the poison, I mean. I’d probably be dead now if not for that.”

“Hey, hey! You’re the one who decided to hide under your bed and lure the guard in, not me. I just happen to know a bit about poisons, especially therine. The minty aftertaste gave it away; whoever picked their poisons isn’t living up to his paycheck!” They laughed, but it was hollow and short-lived.

“So...what now?” Kanderin asked, in more hushed tones.

“We run,” Arnaut replied, “And we find Albatross.”

OOC:
No personal gear on this story. We have six E-11 blasters (one in the ship, one from Renan, 2 from the office, 2 from the stormtroopers) one light helmet, one light breastplate, two sets of stormtrooper armor, roughly 2-3 clips each for the blasters, and maybe 50-60 ish credits. That's it for the entire squad. We're on the run. First order of business is finding a way off planet, avoiding planetary officials at all costs (the ship we're in is marked, too easy to track, and not meant for space flight) So...there's the story. Let's have fun with it.

Oh yeah, RK is in one of the stormtrooper outfits. The other one is whoever writes it up in the post first.
Platoon Sergeant Arnaut
SL/PSG Arnaut/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/VEA/VE [ES2] [EW1] [CoS]
Imperial Network Star Wars Image
-=Wraith PRIDE=--=SL=-
+ Advance Recon Commandos {ARC} +
~ W i l d c a r d P l a t o o n ~

"Take care of your equipment, and your equipment will take care of you"

"I read another article whining about how much violence is on television...I'd like to shoot the idiots who think this stuff affects me" -Calvin, Calvin and Hobbes
[This message has been edited by Arnaut (edited April 22, 2008 5:44:48 PM)]
RK
ComNet Member
 
RK
 
[VE-ARMY] Corporal
[VE-VEEC] Journalist
 
Post Number:  433
Total Posts:  823
Joined:  Apr 2006
Status:  Offline
  RE: Dead Men Tell No Lies (Wraith)
April 22, 2008 8:10:19 PM    View the profile of RK 
RK felt good to be looking through the visor of the stormtrooper armor, even though he preferred the Storm commando armor the squad normally wore; He couldn't complain, at least he had armor.

He could hear nervous laugh through his helmet. This was different, real different, usually they were the ones being hunted. well it's not much different, only you entered the army to escape being hunted, now your being hunted, seriously this is messed up. He thought, checking the E-11 Carbine for any defects, it was something he had trained himself to do.

When he was done he took his helmet off, he knew he would have to put it on in a flash so he just set it down beside him; He holstered his E-11 as well.

“So think we will make it out alive?” RK asked, not really talking to anyone specific, Kanderin however was the first to reply.

Kanderin stared at him for a little bit and just gave him a stern look. “RK, you know nothing is certain, you out of this whole squad should know that.”

He was right, RK should have known that. The sad part is he hadn't learned that, or not fully. He just shook his head. Ever since he had returned from his leave he hadn't felt the same. Maybe it was getting used to a new squad, he had known almost everyone in Eclipse as family, and he had to start over. He didn't mean anything against Wraiths, he just didn't get along with people instantly, even if he was quick-witted.

“RK, don't worry. You do your job and we'll do ours, everything will work out. As long as you point that blaster in the right direction.” Arnaut said. Laughter erupted in to the car. Even RK couldn't help but laugh at that.

“Alright.” He didn't even continued to talk. He just put his helmet back on and started checking and making sure all the systems still worked.
TRP/CPL RK/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1RGT/1BAT/Tadath/VEA/VE [ES] [2nd Class] [CoR]

Imperial Network Star Wars Image

"I am the best at what I do, only what I do isn't very nice" - wolverine
Kanderin Draken
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Kanderin Draken
 
[VE-ARMY] Sergeant
[VE-VEEC] Journalist
 
Post Number:  846
Total Posts:  1849
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  RE: Dead Men Tell No Lies (Wraith)
April 24, 2008 12:05:10 AM    View the profile of Kanderin Draken 
He still wasn't sure how anyone had managed to get themselves into a talkative mood. They had just broken out of a prison, and lesser men had been executed for such a thing. But overall, it was a very small additional sentence on top of their other record. So far they had acts of terrorism, murder of Derrond squad, mass genocide of an entire planet, and destruction of an entire planet. Breaking out of a prison was hardly worth mentioning really.

On top of that, they had no ideas on where they were even going. They had to find Villman, that was simple enough, if only a few hundred planets weren't in the way. Not to mention it'd be impossible to get close to him without being spotted. It was impossible not getting spotted at all, what with their faces having plastered the news for so long. Things had gone a bit quiet recently, and in that time Kanderin had developed quite a decent amout of stubble, but hardly enough to make him look different. Either way, he wasn't shaving it off.

Those weren't the things to let a squad know their ASL were thinking though, so he put on a brave face. He smiled at anyone that glanced towards him, that 'I know something you don't know' smile that hid the fact he didn't have a clue. He even found time to help Jenn scour the cockpit for anything of use. It was more successful than they expected it to be, finding another two light pistols and a vibroblade.

Eventually the silence of the situation got people falling off to sleep. After a few hours only Kanderin was left awake, so he wandered to the cockpit and took a seat alongside Arnaut. For some reason he was stood up, trying to look underneath the cockpit for some sort of clue on what to do.

"So, where first?" Kanderin yawned, putting his feet up on one of the control panels.

"I haven't a clue, I was hoping for a giant arrow pointing in the right direction, but no luck"

"Ok, enough of the sarcasm"

Arnaut grinned and pressed a few buttons to his left.
Sergeant Kanderin Draken
Imperial Network Star Wars Image
-=Wraith PRIDE=-
-=Assistant Squad Leader=-
~ W i l d c a r d P l a t o o n ~
Wraith Squad Motto: When staring in the face of death we see our reflection
ASL/SGT Kanderin/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/VEA/VE [LoS]
Stamp Card
~Phantom~
Phantom Lead Xephilus Sekine/Alpha Squad/Alpha Team - 1/VE
Now! This is it! Now is the time to choose! Die and be free of pain, or live and fight your sorrow! Now is the time to shape your stories! Your fate is in your hands! - Auron, FF X
RK
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RK
 
[VE-ARMY] Corporal
[VE-VEEC] Journalist
 
Post Number:  438
Total Posts:  823
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  RE: Dead Men Tell No Lies (Wraith)
April 25, 2008 2:26:01 PM    View the profile of RK 
RK was starting to get bored. Time seemed to go slower than it really was. this isn't new to you, you should be used to this. He wasn't though. Something didn't feel right, as if he was being watched. He really didn't know why he felt it though.

He glanced back down at his E-11, he really didn't like the standard issue blaster; Even if it was one of the best blaster's in the galaxy, it still wasn't his favorite. He picked it up and looked it over, it had looked damaged from years of use and beating. Markings etched the sides, it looked like someone was keeping count of there kills. I'm not the only one who gets bored on the job.He stared at it for a few more moments, re holstering it within a blink of the eye.

The Eye holes on the helmet of the armor made his vision limited, but he could have swore he saw light  reflecting off of the back window. He got up to take a closer look; He felt crammed trying to maneuver through the cruiser. As he got closer to the window that's when he noticed a feint movement. He couldn't make it out, but luckily the Stormtrooper armor had a night-vision mode. He quickly flipped it on, what appeared on his screen wasn't what he was expecting. He double checked to make sure what he was seeing wasn't a figment of his imagination. Unfortunately, it wasn't.

“Ummm, last I checked Police cruisers don't tailgate.” RK stated. He turned around and made his way to the cockpit. “Arnaut, I think we're being followed.”

“What?” Arnaut looked up at him. Almost thinking it was a joke.

“I believe, they are pretty close. Could just be a civilian.”

Kanderin already had the radio turned on. Nothing but static was coming through. “They probably cut off contact to this vehicle.” Kanderin tried turning a couple knobs, still nothing came in. He looked up at RK. “Is there a radio in that Helmet?” RK looked down at him and nodded in acknowledgment.

RK turned the radio on with a blink of his eye; this time something came through. He listened intently, hoping that they would hear something of interest.

“This is Sergeant Kutler, I am in pursuit of the police speeder that was tolen at the crime scene. I am picking up life signs on board, one has stormtrooper...” The man on the radio stopped in midsentence. RK knew he had just realized that the possibility of them listening in was there. “I'm cutting of communications, they could be listening.” The comm went dead. Yep, he definitely knows the possibility stands whether he knows I was listening I don't know. He removed his helmet and looked at Kanderin, then to Arnaut.

“Were definitely being followed, oh and he knows we have the armor, he cut off communication through radio realizing I could have been listening.”A downcast look came over both Arnaut and Kanderin's face.

They stood there for a while, Arnaut hadn't spoke. There was no way of escaping them, everyone knew that. Time was going by slowly, it seemed if the situation couldn't get worse. Then it took a turn for the worse.

The whole cruiser rattled and shook, Arnaut grabbed the controls to keep the cruiser steady. RK turned around to go see what was going on; He almost ran into Jennabelle.

“Were being fired at!” Jennabelle said. Both RK and Kandering ran back into the cockpit. this is not good this is not good at all.
TRP/CPL RK/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1RGT/1BAT/Tadath/VEA/VE [ES] [2nd Class] [CoR]

Imperial Network Star Wars Image

"I am the best at what I do, only what I do isn't very nice" - wolverine
Jennabelle
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Jennabelle
 
[VE-ARMY] Lance Corporal
 
Post Number:  620
Total Posts:  814
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  RE: Dead Men Tell No Lies (Wraith)
April 26, 2008 6:50:24 AM    View the profile of Jennabelle 
Jenny held on as they kept escaping the police through the traffic, while Kand suggested as they flew around to find a parking lot with an empty speeder:

    “Arnaut, we should try to find help, like Jenny’s friend, Leia, she has a ship.” Jenny quickly added to Kanderin’s suggestion, sounding hopeful and looking at Arnaut, who was bewildered with the suggestions:

    “And my lover Melke works in the intelligence center, he must have sifted to something related to the Serrel case.”

    “If we’re going to involve outside help, let’s make sure that they’ll be ready to face charges like helping a claimed-to-be fugitive, because we haven’t been proven innocent yet.” Arnaut said at last, Jenny hearing unsure in his voice, she responded, with a calmful eye:

    “Relax, Arnaut, we have been through the same bloody conspiracy with my parents and her parents’ murder, Albatross is on the list, although this is something we just learned. The guy’s sly as a snake for sure, he’s gotten away several times with this kind of planet conspiracy or conspiracy even in the Senate, involving murder, according to recent talks with Leia, she’s learned that this guy’s got quite the collection of people wanting her dead, we can contact them and have quite the killing party. Ella even wants her dead; she’s bound to have something on him.” Arnaut quickly stopped her before she reached underneath her armor to get the file on Albatross that she got from Leia in their last meeting escaping Serrel, and replyed firmly:

    “Jenny, we don’t even have a comlink, the whole planet is basically after us and you want us to find your Citizen Kane, my god… what a bold decision,look what we have on our ass. Damn, I wish I hadn’t chosen a police speeder, they track those things very easily.” Just as Arnaut finished, Jenny saw what the whole squad feared, an entire field of police car surrounding them with no escape in sight except down into the traffic below, which Arnaut quickly took, after letting the police come closer slowly with a sign of surrender, and Jenny felt it will quickly turn into another car chase, so she clicked in her selt belt and hanged on as Arnaut twisted upward and turned as soon as they’ve mixed in the crowd, the police shooting again at them from behind, thinking they were only crooks and not claimed-to-be terrorists.

    “Why do I always fear we’ll get into this kind of position of being hunted?” Jenny heard Arnaut mutter as they turned another corner to an abandoned alley and found an empty speeder right there waiting for them, painted light blue, fitted with a legal license and a kinky PU keychain with the silver key inserted into the ignition.

    “I don’t think it’s a good idea to use that speeder, someone might have placed that speeder there on purpose to blow us up when we start the speeder.” Jenny warned but Arnaut responded by jumping inside and starting it up with the silver key, which didn’t cause the speeder to blow up. Jenny then added: “Well, at least whoever planted this here wanted us alive.” But she already knew that it was Leia who prepared this, knowing that they would get caught as soon as they went back to the imperial ship, so she quickly reminded Jenny that she’ll be there to help even if she can’t be there in person.

    “Well, worries aside, let’s ride to find a ship out of here.” Arnaut said as he took the light blue speeder forward up into the sky, causing the other police speeders to collide into the stolen police speeder that was placed on its side neatly, arousing a huge explosion that shook the speeder a little as they straightened upright.
-=Wraith PRIDE=- 

*HeavyWeapons *

Imperial Network Star Wars Image

TRP/LCPL Jennabelle/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/VEA/VE/Tadath

"Don't be too proud of this technological terror you've constructed. The ability to destroy a planet is insignificant next to the power of the Force. " -Darth Vader

"Remember, Remember, the fifth of November" -V

"So do all who seeks to live, but that is not for them to decide. All you have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to you." -Gandalf the Grey
[This message has been edited by Jennabelle (edited April 26, 2008 7:02:10 AM)]
[This message has been edited by Jennabelle (edited April 30, 2008 5:39:58 AM)]
Arnaut
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Arnaut
 
[VE-ARMY] Platoon Sergeant
 
Post Number:  721
Total Posts:  903
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  RE: Dead Men Tell No Lies (Wraith)
April 27, 2008 9:56:16 PM    View the profile of Arnaut 
OOC:
Due to the number of problems and unclearness of your post, Jenny, we're going to have to go on without it. This continues from RK's post.


Black, oily plumes marked the trail that their speeder was taking. They billowed out of the back end where heavy repeater fire had shorn open the metal exterior down to the engine systems beneath. Already, one of the three rear thrusters was failing, causing the speeder to shudder periodically. The Wraiths, huddled in the tin-can of death, tried not to notice, not to hear the metallic whine of the thrusters pushed to their limit, not to notice the fingers of smoke already creeping into the cabin. They careened down the streets at excess of one hundred kilometers per hour, narrowly missing poles, buildings, other speeders, and pedestrians.

Directly behind them, three police speeders were matching their speed and their course, even better than the Wraiths were themselves. And were actually gaining on them. Add to that the fact that each and every one of them was spouting a huge stream of repeater-fire in the Wraiths general direction, and it soon became obvious that the Wraiths wouldn’t be alive for much longer. They had to lose them pronto.

“Right, right, right!” D’har shrieked from the back, gesturing frantically at an alleyway up ahead. Arnaut twisted the wheel ferociously, sending the whole speeder spinning out of control. They shed a lot of speed, the G’s pushing everyone down into their seat. A lot of speed, but not enough. They came at the alleyway sideways, still going way too fast to try and correct. The back of the speeder smashed the corner of the building and all resemblance of a thruster was torn off. They spun, the world swishing dizzly in the front windshield. Everyone was screaming, filling the small space of the speeder with such a cacophany that Arnaut felt that his head had to have exploded already. Nausea wracking his body, Arnaut closed his eyes and tucked up, ready for the worst.

They hit the ground with such a force that the speeder was instantly lifted back up again. None too soon; they barely made it over a low brick wall cutting the alleyway in half. They came down again on their side, flipped over once, crumpled the nose of the speeder into a mess of broken metal, flipped a second time, and skidded for a few hundred meters before coming to a rest. The silence that came next was only interrupted by the occasional fizz of electrical wire failing and the distant howl of the police speeders as they missed they alleyway and sped off, away from their quarry.

“Everyone...everyone alright?” There were murmurs of consent all around. Battered, weary murmurs, but everyone was alive. For now.

“Let’s...let’s get going. Before they c-come back. Ditch th-the stormtrooper armor too. N-no need to d-draw attention to ourselves,” Arnaut said, his voice quavering. His whole body trembled and he was sore all over. Nothing seemed broken, but he wasn’t going to risk it. He stepped out of the remnants of their vehicle lightly, still a bit shaky on his feet.

He breathed easier now that he was on his feet, though. He would trust his feet over a speeder any day. He turned around as the rest of the squad; Kanderin, RK, D’har, Jenn, and Hartigan filed out of the hunk of metal. Kanderin had the prison guard’s helmet on, and D’har had the chest plate. Without the stormtrooper outfits, those two pieces were their only segments of body armor.

Arnaut had never felt so unprotected in his life, at least not in any of the time since he’d joined the VE. Very ironic, feeling so unprotected on the only world he could really call home any more. He laughed bitterly to himself.

“Alright. First order of business is to find someone to take us off the planet. We only have a few hours; too long and they’ll realize that we’ve made it out of the prison, and it’ll be damn near impossible to get off-world.”

“You mean they don’t already?”

“No, those speeders after us were for the theft of the police vehicle. I suspect they’ll know within two hours or so, and have the entire city on lockdown in two and a half. We’re on borrowed time now. We need to get out as soon as possible.” Everyone nodded. They understood what needed to be done. Doing it was another problem all together.

“The spaceport is that way,” Kanderin said, pointing to a lit up area barely glimpsed bewtween the buildings ahead.

“We might as well start out for there. I think I see a clothes retailer ahead where we can switch out these prison uniforms for some decent articles. Anyone have any objections to adding theft to our already long list of crimes?”

No one did.
Platoon Sergeant Arnaut
SL/PSG Arnaut/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/VEA/VE [ES2] [EW1] [CoS]
Imperial Network Star Wars Image
-=Wraith PRIDE=--=SL=-
+ Advance Recon Commandos {ARC} +
~ W i l d c a r d P l a t o o n ~

"Take care of your equipment, and your equipment will take care of you"

"I read another article whining about how much violence is on television...I'd like to shoot the idiots who think this stuff affects me" -Calvin, Calvin and Hobbes
[This message has been edited by Arnaut (edited April 27, 2008 9:57:37 PM)]
RK
ComNet Member
 
RK
 
[VE-ARMY] Corporal
[VE-VEEC] Journalist
 
Post Number:  444
Total Posts:  823
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  RE: Dead Men Tell No Lies (Wraith)
April 28, 2008 6:34:26 PM    View the profile of RK 
OOC:
Edit: Alright, thought I would add a little help, here's a link to the ship that I say we are sneaking on to: http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/VCX-350_light_freighter

RK was sore all over from the impact. It wasn’t one of the worst landings he had taken, but it was up there near the top. He struggle out of the hunk of metal and got out of the stormtrooper armor.  The feeling of insecurity fell over him as soon as he took the helmet off. this is not what I signed up for…

They walked towards the clothing shop that Arnaut had printed out; First order of business, get some new clothes by any means necessary, in this case that would be stealing.  They entered the store. RK had his blaster up and ready to shoot in case the cashier decided to pull a stunt. He looked around, surprisingly nobody was around; It was weird, the doors were unlocked, but nobody was around.

“This might be the easiest heist ever.” Kanderin exclaimed, taking a step forward.

“Don’t be so sure, keep you eyes open, but hurry.” Arnaut was already taking a couple of shirts off the rack.

RK walked toward a rack with some jackets. This wasn't the time to be picky, they needed to move fast. He grabbed a brown leather jacket and then moved back to the checkout line.  It was still odd that nobody was around. Maybe there in the storage area, but why haven't they come out yet, and shouldn't they have... His thoughts where interrupted by Jennabelle who had gotten up and was slowly walking back to where RK was standing.

“Ummm, I think someone knows where here.” She said, keeping her blaster level with the door.

Arnaut, Kanderin, and RK looked over at the same time. They realized what Jenny had seen; Cops.

“Alright, where going to have to work with what we have here, let's move.” Arnaut led them out the back. RK took up the rear, knocking the register over, two racks and shooting a couple holes in the window. I hope that looks like a normal robbery.
They continued running towards the spaceport. Arnaut handed off clothes to each of the members to carry, once they got on a ship they could rummage through what they had gathered.
They finally reached the space port, it was brightly lit; Cruisers and Freighters were parked all across the landing area.Holy...How are we going to pick a ride?

Kanderin and Arnaut where discussing something. RK realized that they had figured out where to go, where they were pointing however, didn't look very appealing.

“Listen up, we are getting on that freighter, once inside we will all find a place to hide. If necessary we will use force to keep our presence a secret.”Arnaut looked as if he wasn't sure this was going to work.

RK followed the rest of the squad. If they were spotted, they would be sent back to their respective prison cells.
They continued to weave through the boxes and other freighters and cruisers. RK kept his blaster trained on anyone that was within shooting range just in case the unlucky soul saw them. So far, So good

They finally made it to the freighter; RK knew this make, it was a VCX-350 Light Freighter, His dad had owned one a while back. “Alright, let's get on.” Kanderin said. He entered into the freighter through the cargo section, helping anyone up that needed it, as well as taking the clothes from Arnaut. RK was the last one up.

Kanderin threw  the clothes down he was carrying “Okay, let's get out of these prison outfits and find somewhere to hide in here.” RK walked up to the pile of clothes picking up a black pair of cargo pants, a black belt, a pair of mercenary boots and a light tan shirt. He walked away from the rest of the group to find a place to change.

Once changed he picked up the brown leather coat, throwing it on. ah, this is better, much better.

“Any idea where this things going?” D'har asked.

“hmmm, I don't know if this is any indication , but this crate says, Corellia.” Jennabelle was pointing to a box.

“Well, then were going to Corellia.”
TRP/CPL RK/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1RGT/1BAT/Tadath/VEA/VE [ES 2nd Class] [CoR]

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"I am the best at what I do, only what I do isn't very nice" - wolverine
[This message has been edited by RK (edited April 28, 2008 6:35:16 PM)]
[This message has been edited by RK (edited April 29, 2008 8:46:17 PM)]
Arnaut
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Arnaut
 
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  RE: Dead Men Tell No Lies (Wraith)
May 1, 2008 10:25:17 PM    View the profile of Arnaut 
Correllia. Not exactly a very close planet, considering it was on the other side of the core, but they would be far out of Vast Empire jurisdiction. Far out of any Imperial jurisdiction for that matter. They were entering into NR and neutral joint-space. Hopefully the New Republic general populace didn’t have as much of an idea of what happened on Serrel as the Imperial populace did. If they were recognized, it was all over.

Arnaut had black cargo pants with a button-up white shirt and a vest thrown over it accompanied by a set of plain black boots. A spacer, no more, no less. Except that he was carrying a blaster in one hand and was hiding away in the storage area of a vehicle that didn’t belong to him. Other than that, he looked and played the part of one of the millions of random spacers drifting the galaxy.

Arnaut hefted his E-11 awkwardly. His A280 was much more comfortable and reassuring. This thing felt ridiculously underpowered compared to the solid punch of the A280’s armor-piercing rounds and the magazine that came with them. Still, an E-11 was preferable to no weapon at all. And no weapon at all, especially on a planet as notorious from petty crime as Correllia, well, that was a death wish.

“Uh oh, inventory,” RK said, peering outside over one of the crates.

“Scatter!” Arnaut cried as quietly as possible. The squad moved away from the entrance to the underbelly of the ship, back amongst the crates

Arnaut ducked behind a row of large ones, standing a good meter taller than him. Hartigan came up beside him. He saw Jenny and RK duck behind a row in the very back and Kanderin and D’har just make it out of sight before the men came aboard.

It was only three, thankfully, and they didn’t stay long. Not an inventory check after all. They pushed a few crates down, then checked the hatch seal, finally closing the large metal door behind them. Arnaut slowed his breathing, trying to be as silent as he could be. Next to him, Hartigan visibly stiffened, his body becoming rigid, his breathing tight. The men were on the other side of the crates, whispering amongst themselves. One knocked on the wall that Arnaut and Hart were cowering behind, and both of them nearly jumped out of their positions. Slowly Arnaut brought his gun into a better position at his side. If need be, he would kill to keep the squad undetected.

The men whispered a bit longer, took a peek in a crate a few rows down, and then left through a door at the far end of the room linking the cabin with the rest of the ship. Arnaut breathed a sigh of relief and lowered his gun.

“All clear,” he said, still quietly. The squad popped out and they moved to the farthest, most remote corner of the cabin, piling crates to shield themselves from prying eyes and to give them a good view of the door and hatch. When it was done, they laid out some of the extra clothes and, using duffel bags they’d “acquired” from the store as pillows, took a much-needed rest.

Arnaut kept watch, squatting in between two of the larger crates, keeping an eye on the door. His E-11 rested on the crate next to him and he munched on a nutrient bar also swiped from said store thoughtfully. It was another hour before the shuttle actually shuddered off the landing pad

The lights went out in the large space, enclosing them in a welcoming darkness. Everyone save Arnaut drifted off. Arnaut pulled up the one helmet the squad had among them and plopped it on, using its nightvision to keep a lookout.

Correllia. What would they do once they got there? Certainly Albatross would know they had escaped before they reached Correllia. But they still had the benefit of surprise. Albatross knew they were getting off planet, but didn’t know where. There were hundreds of flights off-planet, half of them out of his reach. Or so Arnaut thought. Hoped, really. Albatrosss was proving to be far more formidable that he’d first expected.

Correllia. A trader’s world. Wherever trading occurred, there was always an underlying black market, right?
Arnaut thought back to the very first mentions of Albatross. What he’d been looting and stealing off the Imperial shipping lanes. Chemicals, weapons, too expensive for their meager funds to buy into. Arnaut thought back farther, deeper. He’d gazed at the long list of shipping transcripts numerous times. Always chemicals, weaponry, light body-armor, and...and...

Medical narcotics. They’d hit at least seven supply lanes carrying that. All they needed to do was find a supplier and trace back the steps. The company that made them was Imperial-exclusive, so finding it wouldn’t be too hard, Arnaut reckoned.

If that didn’t work, bulk Imperial blasters would be their next pursuit, however much it cost. Arnaut was fairly certain that, between those two leads, they could track Albatross’ ever-growing pirating and mercenary group. Something that large couldn’t hide forever.

Arnaut jumped slightly as Kanderin’s hand touched his shoulder. He looked up and Kanderin motioned for the helmet. Arnaut handed it to him and very gratefully went back to the small alcove of crates to catch a bit of sleep.

Nine hours ‘till they landed. Nine hours to sleep, think, and prepare for one of the hardest missions yet. With thoughts of Albatross, black markets, and Correllia swirling around in his head, Arnaut drifted off.
Platoon Sergeant Arnaut
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Jennabelle
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Jennabelle
 
[VE-ARMY] Lance Corporal
 
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  RE: Dead Men Tell No Lies (Wraith)
May 2, 2008 6:27:13 AM    View the profile of Jennabelle 
Before Arnaut's Post

Jenny changed into her new clothes, which were a pair of running shoes and white socks, a pair of blue jeans, and a pink tank top with a picture of a rock band on there. She thought back to the time when she had to give up her stormtrooper outfit, which Arnaut thought might protect her in case they ran into a fight, although it only brought her quite the headache when they crash-landed on the street.

Jenny looked at the cargo around her, which were luggages of probably clothes, jewelry, washing utensils, and other personal processions. She hoped they wouldn't rock around and smash their heads or this wouldn't end pretty.

Arnaut interrupted Jenny's thoughts and questioned her with a curious look on his face, as other members of the squad, especially Kand, listened in:

"Hey Jenny, mind telling us how Leia found out about Serrel?"

"She was bound to. That virus, which turns you against your friends for your fears for them, is a curse of her own family even before you met it, it was produced in the dry desert where it's most easily able to kindle the untrustworthy feeling in others for their cruelty to you, especially the Tusken Raiders and the Toydarians. The name has been forgotten as it kill those who know of it. That was the reason Leia escaped her homeland, Tatooine, and went to Euceron, where the virus isn't able grasp its nasty claws." Jenny swallowed hard before continuing to this next part, which even for her was a pain:

"Albatross saved the last of it for Leia's parents, for them to turn on each other and unleash each other's discontentment, not knowing she would fight back and saving it for Serrel, which she found out after she left her beloved bar for a while in search of the virus' whereabouts. She asked to make her league, The Pacific Order, an ally of the Empire officially, from the day her ancestors started to strive for peace, which my family, my lover's family was all a part of. I don't wish to make this a mystery, especially to you,  Arnaut."

"And, also me, Jenny, I had once been affected by the virus, but I'm better now." Kand replyed slowly as Jenny saw a gloomy look on his face, especially in those eyes.

Kand, is there something you're not telling me, is there, someone you lost over the virus? Jenny thought questionably as Arnaut stared into space, lost in thought.

-----During Arnaut's post--------

Jenny alerted herself as RK spoke inventory had come to check things out and hid with RK behind a row of luggage in the back of the cargo section of the freighter, taking out her E-11 rifle and checking it silently to make sure it was locked and loaded in case a guard came up to their position. She didn't get the chance to kill, but she probably will soon.

Arnaut took watch as Jenny prepared to sleep, as everyone slowly got to sleep, Jenny pretended to sleep but tried to peek at what Arnaut was thinking through his eyes, which lit up after a couple minutes of thinking.

Good job, Arnaut, you'll do us proud. Jenny remarked him in her mind as thoughts of Leia's story carried her into dreamland.
-=Wraith PRIDE=- 

*HeavyWeapons *

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"Don't be too proud of this technological terror you've constructed. The ability to destroy a planet is insignificant next to the power of the Force. " -Darth Vader

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"So do all who seeks to live, but that is not for them to decide. All you have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to you." -Gandalf the Grey
RK
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RK
 
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  RE: Dead Men Tell No Lies (Wraith)
May 3, 2008 10:07:52 AM    View the profile of RK 
Hisss, Clank RK was glad to here the door's shut, they didn't have to kill anyone, yet. It wasn't like they didn't have a long list of crimes anyway, adding to them wouldn't make anything worse. Everything that could be worse had already happened.

Jennabelle was nodding off, RK wanted to wake her up, but he decided against it. They had had a rough week, a good sleep would help. HE even felt himself starting to doze off, he had to stay awake though.

He checked his E-11 one more time, making sure it was calibrated just in case, he didn't want to shoot in the wrong direction. He still couldn't figure out why the hell there were markings on the side of it, they seemed familiar, like from a bad dream.

Wonder why we haven't... Finally. It would only be a couple hours before they landed on Corellia. It had been a long time since RK had been off Tadath, Last time he was he had been attacked. this isn't much different, now is it? He thought, a cloud of uncertainty coming over him. Whatever happened though, they would get out of it, after all they were Wraith.

-_-_-_-_-Corellia Space-_-_-_-

Arnaut was standing over the rest of the squad, they still hid behind crates. RK heard the engines slow and the hull started to vibrate and creak under the almost sudden stop.

“Guess where there.” Arnaut whispered. His gun ready.

They didn't know what would meet them when they landed on Corellia, after all they couldn't see outside.

RK followed Arnaut and Kanderin to a pair of crates closest to the doors. They really didn't want to kill anyone, after all on Corellia they were just normal citizens, if they could get out of this ship without anyone seeing them that is.

As they passed by Jennabelle, RK hit her with the butt of his gun. She woke up with a startle, Grabbing for her gun. D'har just laughed under his breath a little.

They sat beside the opening to the cargo bay, each one of them that had a gun lifted it, waiting for the hunk of metal to land on the surface.

I hope Corellian's are nice RK thought glumly.

-_-_-Corellia Landing bay.-_-_-_-

Corellia was a nice planet, the air actually felt breathable. It reminded RK of a better version of Coruscant it actually had forest's and animals. Un-like Coruscant, which was 98% metal, and the rest of it was air.

They had split up after getting off the Ship. Arnaut didn't want to draw to much attention, if they became enemies of the Corellia government then they probably would probably have to get off the planet, again. RK didn't mind, the ore they jumped, the more planets he would get to visit.
The landing bay wasn't as big as he had expected. It was a good hang out area, come to think of it he noticed a lot of people were on th bay, some of them didn't even look like workers. It was a perfect hide out, even with the gun at his side, he blended in. I could get used to this.
TRP/CPL RK/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1RGT/1BAT/Tadath/VEA/VE [ES 2nd Class] [CoR]

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"I am the best at what I do, only what I do isn't very nice" - wolverine
Arnaut
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Arnaut
 
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  RE: Dead Men Tell No Lies (Wraith)
May 4, 2008 3:28:31 PM    View the profile of Arnaut 
Customs officials. Two words that, while ordinary for any spaceport frequenter, now had the ability to strike fear more surely into the Wraiths hearts than if Albatross had appeared directly in front of them.

“Crap,” Arnaut murmured. The landing dock was open to the air, circular, and filled with crates. Customs officers patrolled the mountains of metal, waving batons and scribbling on datapads, stamping various crates and shaking their head at others. A small army of spaceport workers, ready to uncover the stowaway Wraiths at any moment. This would not be easy.

A trio of men passed a few feet away from the freighter, chatting lightly. As soon as they were past, Arnaut motioned the squad forward. They jumped down, moving quickly from the ship to the ground, and darted behind a long, tall row of black crates. RK, carrying the two duffels, came up last. He started pulling out some of the rifles, which they’d hidden in the two bags. Arnaut stopped him.

“We’re not here to make a scene,” he said calmly, but firmly. He reached over and pushed the exposed barrel of one of the rifles down into the bag. RK nodded, if a bit reluctantly.  Arnaut moved them forward, keeping along the wall of crates.

A man went passed, right above their heads. They ducked low and stilled their breathing. He kept walking, right on past. Arnaut had begun to creep forward again, when the man turned. Arnaut had to keep himself from crying out as he looked at him. The man turned again and left, leaving many questions unanswered in Arnaut’s mind.

He’d seen that man before. Somewhere, somehow. He racked his mind, thinking back. He was related to Albatross somehow, he knew that much. He’d seen him with Albatross somewhere, or doing something with Albatross, or...something. Where had he seen him, where had he...the Imperial palace! Right before Albatross had bombed Serrell, the man had been in the video, standing behind Albatross. One of Albatross’ generals? A simple lackey? What was he doing here?

“Change of plans,” Arnaut said, turning the squad around.

They followed the man, trailing behind him, dodging customs officials as they went, all the way to the other end of the hangar. It was no easy business, trying to keep him in their sights while simultaneously staying out of view. Finally they stopped, crouching behind a low retaining wall over looking a loading ramp that the man had moved down into. With another row of crates at his back, Arnaut and the squad were somewhat out of view. Hopefully the man didn’t decide to look up and no one got too close.

The man stopped, looked down at his chron, and then looked up impatiently. Not at Arnaut, thankfully. He seemed...uncomfortable, out of place. Arnaut noticed that his hand kept going down to his hip, where he would usually carry a holster. There was none now, and it seemed to agitate the man. Arnaut did notice that he was carrying a pistol in his boot and had at least one knife strapped to his shoulder, almost, but not quite hidden by the man’s jacket. Much good those would do him if it came to a fight.

The man looked up suddenly, this time directly at Arnaut, who was busy peeking over the wall. No, not at...beyond. Arnaut ducked down, just as another man came walking nonchalantly past the row of crates behind him. Arnaut pressed himself low to the ground and motioned for silence as the other man passed by. His jet black hair was greased back, and he had a sort of hunch to his shoulders. Combined with his narrow, angular face and piercing green eyes, barely glimpses from under the man’s wide-brimmed hat, Arnaut got the impression of a snake. Which he probably was if he, like Arnaut had already surmised, was here to meet with one of Albatross’ higher-ups.

Arnaut saw them briefly exchange a few curt words before disappearing into a door toward the back of the lower area.

“Frig,” Arnaut muttered. “Alright, here’s how—"

“What are you all doing here!?” Everyone jumped; they’d been so focused on the two men that they’d completely forgotten to watch their back.  One of the employees was looming over them, datapad in one hand and a frown on his face. “You aren’t supposed to be back here!” Uh-oh. Time to lie.

“Y’know what! I guess we aren’t. Say, ‘seen the three o’clock to Coruscant anywhere, me an’ my friends just got a little lost, this being such a large spaceport and all.” Arnaut stood up, trying to sound as jovial as possible.

“Well, sir, I—”

“What’s with you? What’s with any of the help around here? Can’t even point a few simple travellers in the right direction! You’re lucky I don’t file a complaint!”

“Sir, if—”

“Y’know, we didn’t want to ride any of your cheap shuttles anyway. I think we’re done here. No, no, don’t try and say anything to change our minds. We’re leaving, now!” And with that the Wraiths turned toward the nearest door, pushed out, courteously excusing themselves to the surprised guard on duty there and made their way into the streets of Coronet, Corellia’s capitol.

Behind them, the customs agent came running out the door, startling the guard a second time. Arnaut looked back and briefly caught a glimpse of the agent talking fiercely with the guard, jabbing fingers in the Wraiths’ direction. The guard nodded and began to walk after them.

“Hey! You all!” Passer-by’s in the large crowded looked between the guard and the men he was pointing at, all heads down walking in an ever increasing pace away.

“On three, we run for it. Get to that alleyway up ahead and don’t stop running until you’re in the crowd on the other side. Heads down, don’t let anyone get an ID on you. We’ll meet up at that hotel two streets down, the taller one. Don’t be late.” Everyone around Arnaut grunted in assent.

“One, two...” The guard was jogging now, still shouting at them. The crowd was starting to part around them, sensing that they could be dangerous. “Three!” As one they broke the cover of the crowd and sprinted for the alleyway. The guard was running now, for all his worth, after the six men. They pushed civilians out of their way, causing the crowd to stream away from them. Right into the guard. He pushed through, muttering curses and yelling fruitlessly for the crowd to make way. Finally, fed up, he snatched out his pistol and fired into the air twice. Now the crowd was really in a panic, running from the men and the guard.

Once in the alleyway, still running, RK unzipped the bag and tossed each of them a carbine. They hid them under their large coats. The guard entered behind them, ten seconds later, and opened fire. A solid slug round embedded itself in the brick next to Arnaut’s head, sending a tuft of smoke wafting into the air. Two more kicked up small flurries of stone shards off the pavement. Jenny and Kanderin, at the front of the group, turned left down a smaller side alley. RK, after finishing zipping up the bags, threw himself down the same alley, except to the right. Hartigan pushed past a butcher, coming out the back of his shop to dump some refuse into the alleyway, and sprinted into the kitchen, followed closely by D’har. That left Arnaut, who was at the back of the group, alone in the alleyway with the guard. Arnaut found another side alley to the left, darted in and immediately turned right, shouldering his way through a door and into an apartment complex.

A woman screamed, dropping her laundry load onto the floor as Arnaut pushed past her and into the main part of the complex. Looking around, he had a choice between the crowded lobby, from which he might be able to make it to the outside, but only after being seen by about twenty people, or the stairs. He took the stairs, two steps at a time, bounding upwards through the building. He heard the woman scream a second time and the guard’s voice; he was being followed.

Up and up he went, spiraling toward the top. He stopped, fired a few warning shots down the length of the stairway, in he guard’s direction, just to make him put his head down. A few seconds of time, that was all. Arnaut kept running. Floor twenty came and went, floor thirty. His legs were burning, his breathing was ragged and drawn; he had to find a place to stop.

On flour thirty-three, he turned suddenly off the stairwell, sprinting past a man just opening his door to his apartment. He looked around, ignoring the shouts of the man. Couch, vid-screen...window! He ran over, and opened it looking out toward the building across from him and the alley so far, far below.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The man yelled. Then he noticed the guard huffing up the stairs, gun in hand.

He looked over at Arnaut with an undecipherable stare.

“Closet now. You’ll never make it.” Arnaut looked back, then looked at the jump. It was long, nearly impossible, but maybe...

“Get in there now!”  Arnaut raised his weapon and made his way to the closet, closing it behind him. Just before he did, Arnaut saw the man pull out a pistol and shoot out the window of the other building. The window Arnaut would’ve had to jump through had he made the jump. Arnaut shut the door all the way, tucking himself into the back corner amidst jackets and shirts, and checked the clip on his E-11. Worse came to worse, he could blast his way out of this. He didn’t know what to make of the man, but something told Arnaut to trust him. It was either that or end up a small splatter on the alley below.

“D-did a man just...just run through here?” The guard asked, finally making his way into the room.

“H-he just came in and then jumped out the window!” Arnaut’s newfound savior lied. “I...I tried to sh-shot him, but it was no good!” The angry guard gave a curse and rushed over to the window. He peered down to the alley below, and then to the window. Probably deciding his couldn’t make the jump, he cursed again and went storming from the room. Just before he did, he looked back, as if he’d thought of something. But he shook his head and continued out.

“You can come out now.” The man said. Arnaut did so, his carbine held out in front of him, his finger on the trigger.

“Why? Why did you help me?” Arnaut asked, gun unwavering. The man didn’t seem concerned by the blaster in front of his face. In fact, he seemed rather amused, his mouth curving into a small smile. He seemed about Arnaut’s age, maybe a bit younger, with lightish-brown hair and dark green eyes nothing like the other man Arnaut had seen today. Too many men, all without names. This was getting confusing.

“Because, like you, I’m being hunted. Not visibly, and the authorities may not even know it’s me yet, but, for the past three weeks, I’ve been disrupting---well, I don’t think you need to know that right now.”

Arnaut lifted the gun a little higher.

“Are you Imperial?” The man’s eyes widened a bit and he seem taken aback.

“What’s it to you?” he replied, eyes narrowing. Arnaut raised the gun even higher, not saying anything. “Alright, look, I see that you’ve got a gun. You see that I’ve got a pistol at my side, obviously. Let’s not kill each other over this. Now, should I possibly, hypothetically be related to the Empire...what’s it to you?”

“Vast Empire Army, or at least formerly. Wraith squad.”

“You have any papers to back that up?” the man said.

“Therein lies the problem. You see...we’re not exactly on good terms with the Vast Empire’s police forces right now.”

“So you’re traitors!” the man said, swinging up his pistol to aim at Arnaut. Arnaut stepped back but didn’t fire.

“No, no! Well, yes, technically, but we were framed. By a man named Albatross.”

“Albatross?” the man inquired.

“You know him?” Arnaut asked, surprised. The man nodded, put down his gun, and went over to a table on the far end of the room. Pushing it aside, he opened up a small cavity in the wall revealing all sorts of monitors and papers. He pulled up a few printouts and handed them to Arnaut. They appeared to be communications between NR officials.

“They’ve been mentioning him nonstop for the past two months. Some sort of pirate, or mercenary, with a ton of resources. Seems like they were looking to hire him a while back, but deciding against it after something called the...” he skimmed one of the sheets. “S-incident.” S for Serrell, Arnaut thought. So the New Republic populace was being kept in the dark about that, eh? All for the better.

“Anyway, they’re looking to set up another deal, it seems. That’s the only reason I’m still here. Two of the others of my team were killed trying to get in, to stop the first meeting between them. We’d had leads pointing to Albatross for a number of things, not least of which being his pirating activity against some of our vulnerable shipping lanes. After the first deal went south, after the ‘S-Incident’, I was going to pull out when I got wind of this second deal. So here I am, still tracking them.”

“Any you got all this? By yourself? How?” Arnaut asked incredulously, gesturing at the wide array of papers and datapads and screens the man had tucked away in his wall.

“Communications technician, trained by only the best of the Vast Imperial army,” he replied, sporting a smug grin.

“Of all the rooms I could’ve forced entry into,” Arnaut murmured, still gazing at the screens. He looked around at the man. “You got a name, comm techie?” he asked.

“Ron,” the man replied. “Ron-Goron.”

OOC:
Welcome Ron to the squad! His aparment thingy will serve as an impormptu base of operations. We'll all meet at the hotel first, the tall one, so, y'know, write about being introduced to him and then heading back to his place. Or something. Just...just post.

Oh, and, Ron, if you feel anything needs to be changed, due to personality conflicts with the character or something, shoot me a PM or find me on IRC. I had to take some creative liberties seeing as how I only had your bio as source material.

UPDATE: Hrm, this post is a bit lengthy. Sorry if I got carried away...
Platoon Sergeant Arnaut
SL/PSG Arnaut/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/Tadath/VEA [ES2] [EW1] [CoS]
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~ W i l d c a r d P l a t o o n ~

"Take care of your equipment, and your equipment will take care of you"

"I read another article whining about how much violence is on television...I'd like to shoot the idiots who think this stuff affects me" -Calvin, Calvin and Hobbes
[This message has been edited by Arnaut (edited May 4, 2008 3:29:43 PM)]
[This message has been edited by Arnaut (edited May 4, 2008 3:30:36 PM)]
RK
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RK
 
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  RE: Dead Men Tell No Lies (Wraith)
May 4, 2008 4:59:51 PM    View the profile of RK 
Blaster fire grazed RK's arm. It burned, but he had to keep going, he had no choice. Right now it was do or die. He fired aimlessly behind him, hoping he would hit someone by “Accident”.

The dashed down into an Alley way. It stunk, but it provided basic cover, which was enough. He turned around and start back walking, trying to keep his balance. He fired a couple rounds towards the guard, before turning back around and catching a glimpse of Arnaut giving the signal to split-up.

RK made a severe right turn down the next alley way, He almost got lost in the mist that shrouded it.. Note to self, avoid visiting Coronet. The blaster fire had stopped, but he continued to run. The dark path of the alleyway started to illuminate the farther he went. When the darkness finally receded RK stopped. He was standing in the middle of a Market place, at least that's what it looked like.

He walked slowly backwards and stood at the edge of the Alley. Now what. He looked around, It was uncanny how much Corellia reminded him of Coruscant. “So...”

He looked behind him. He watched the guard run down the alley, looking around to see where Wraiths had went. He raised his E-11 just in case they came his way.

Come on go away.

“Sir, I 'm going to have to ask you to put that thing down.” RK whirled in a 360, keeping the E-11 carbine level the whole time. What surprised him was who was standing there.

“Hartigan?” RK asked, his breath still heavy from the running.

“Hey, I know where traitors to the VE but I think being traitors in our own squad is pushing it don't you?” Hartigan pointed to the blaster, still pressed against his chest.

“Oh, right...” the carbine lowered. RK looked at Hartigan and grinned.

“So what do we do now?”

“I say we go back the way Arnaut did, better be careful though, those guards might be hanging around the corner.” The walked back down the alley. The lights disappeared and the stench wafted back into RK's nostrils once again. Ah, Coru... Correllia.

-_-_-_-Apartment Complex-_-_-_-

RK lead the way inside to the Complex, Hartigan took up the rear with D'har right behind RK. A girl was croughec in the corner, she looked scared out of her wits. Yep, Arnaut definitely came this way. They walked towards the stairs, scorch marks from stray fire cluttered the first few stairs.

RK couldn't tell where Arnaut had gone after running up the stairs, he didn't even know if he was still here.

“Guys, keep alert.”  It was eerie, it even felt deserted in here.

They continued ot go up the spiral stairs and then stopped. A door was busted open and the viewing screen was still on. They walked inside, RK and Hartigan both had their blasters raised, ready to fire in case anything decided to jump them.

“Okay, Split-up and check the premises.”

“Alright, I call the kitchen.” D'har whispered, running off towards the small kitchen.

Hartigan headed towards the Restroom and the Sleeping quarters. RK stayed in the living quarters. He was almost tempted to check out what was on the Holonet, he fought against it and went to check the coffee table. If Arnaut was around here the man who owned the place obviously hadn't given up a fight.

He looked down at the table and picked up a Datapad that was laying there. He picked it up, keeping his face down the whole time. When he finally did look up he had a blaster in his face.

“Drop it.” A man said. He was about the same height as RK.

“You know you could say please.” RK grinned.

“Who are you?” the man looked around to see D'har rummaging through the kitchen.

“Just tourists...” RK Replied.

“I'm serious. YOU get out of there.” D'har instantly dropped what he was doing and lifted his hands up.

“Can we settle this like civilized people?”

“Sure, who are you?” The man sure was persistent.

“Ryan Karrax, Wraith Squad, VE trooper. Anything else you want to know?” The man's eyes went wide , he dropped the blaster and turned around,wWalking towards a closet just behind him. Arnaut appeared right next to him.

“Well, I guess you've met Ron.” Arnaut said, A grin coming across his face.

“Yes I guess.”
TRP/CPL RK/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1RGT/1BAT/Tadath/VEA/VE [ES 2nd Class] [CoR]

Imperial Network Star Wars Image

"I am the best at what I do, only what I do isn't very nice" - wolverine[*]
[This message has been edited by RK (edited May 4, 2008 7:24:27 PM)]
[This message has been edited by RK (edited May 6, 2008 7:44:46 PM)]
[This message has been edited by RK (edited May 6, 2008 7:44:49 PM)]
Ron-Goron
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  RE: Dead Men Tell No Lies (Wraith)
May 4, 2008 5:24:43 PM    View the profile of Ron-Goron 
"Renegade Wraith squad." Thought Ron to himself. "Well that's nothing out of the ordinary, I know more people in trouble with the law than i do people who are in with the law..." This made Ron laugh a little.  He picked up a white duffle-bag with the label CorpTech on it. 

"From basic." he explained.  Ron quickly stuffed papers and full datapads, loading them into an organized unit within the duffle bag.  He pulled out two long wires and plugged them into several datapads, his fingers flying on one larger, newer datapad that he held in his hands. 

Several noises issued forth from the large datapad, until Ron put it into the dufflebag with the rest of the valuable information.  After that, he piled all the other datapads and papers into a pile. 

"Destroying them?  Don't you want to save them?" said Arnaut curiously.

"Most of these are old." said Ron as he fumbled in the cabinets above his kitchen stove.  He suddenly pulled out an old liquor bottle, which he promptly dumped all over the papers. "The papers will burn quickly." said Ron "But the datapads wont burn, so I had to wipe their memories." 

Arnaut picked up one of the datapads himself and inspected it.  He pressed a small power button near the bottom, at which the screen promptly flashed on with the message: "I miss you baby, please come back... I want you, please don't leave me..."

"Nice message." Arnaut said as he threw it back into the pile.

"Ex girlfriend." Ron replied simply.  He dropped the last of the burning papers into the sink, and picked up the duffle bag. 

***

Ron had a lot on his mind.  Three weeks ago, before he had the lead on Albatross, he was fresh out of basic and was put right on a case... it was very small, language decoding.  It wasn't a great job, but it was a job none-the-less, and in a few days Ron broke the codes for the main alphabet; verbs, nouns, conjugates; and sentence structure.  Basically he had completely decrypted it.  After repeating this several times, and becoming board of all the drug, murder, and sex talk within the decrypted letters, Ron presented them to his authorities, who in turn discredited him for his work claiming "it was not possible due to his time constraints." "Wasn't the first time." thought Ron glumly. 

Ron was then put on the impossible task of decrypting incoming "pirate codes", a task which had never been fully completed before due to the level of difficulty.  "Pirate codes", he was told, were near impossible to break due to the sophistication of their security systematics, which bar codes the entire message.  If a computer did not have the "bar code" password, it read the entire message in numbers randomized from 1-99, excluding of course the number zero.

So Ron sat day after day after day trying to "break" the codes, often sleeping or dozing off in his chair, and waiting for the day to end.  This continued for a week, until one day he noticed a several different things about the code.  For one, it was not a random number generator that created the numbers, for there was a clear pattern of ranked numbers from 1-9 without periods or breaks.  Secondly the beginning of every line on his monitor was a nine number digit with one letter. 

This gave him the lead he needed to break the code, which explained why there was a break in the stream of random numbers.  Apparently (from what he read in the streaming codes) a great catastrophe had caused several security systems to crash.  This left the codes open for approximately 75 minutes (until the server would reboot itself).  Ron only needed 35 minutes, until he had received the new "bar code" password, which allowed him to plug into the system. And he was surprised to find, when he accessed the administration panel, that it was of Imperial origin.

Ron began saving all the streaming information on datapads and paper charts, receiving boundless information on several things he didn't understand such as the word "Albatross." and "Serrell" (two words that were repeated numerously in all the codes).

Ron would have continued hacking into the administration and stealing pirate and imperial information until one day he discovered that he had a "tag" on his computer, which meant that could be monitored at any time by a root administrator.  Ron didn't take the chance of being caught digging in secret imperial affairs, so he packed up and left, hiding himself in an "untagged" personal computer where he could continue his work.

The day he moved in was three days prior to when Arnaut broke into his room, and in those three days he had barely managed to break into the system, and set up an "invisible" identity so as to escape detection... he hoped that he wasn't noticed when he used the "tagged" computer, or else he knew he would be gone in the next few days.

***

Ron's mind snapped back into the present, for now, as one of the data pads fell out of the duffle bag.  It skittered across the floor into another room.  Ron spent the next ten minutes trying to find it, when he found it in the hands of a stranger.

"Drop it." Ron said, as he raised his pistol.

Arnaut grinned as he walked in the room as he said, "I see you've met Ron."

"Yeah." replied the other man.

"Wait... you know this guy?" said Ron.  Arnaut nodded his head, and Ron promptly put down the gun and said with a grin,

"Glad to meet you, I'm Ron-Goron, underground communications technician."

"RK." the man replied.  "You don't keep a mood for long do you?"

"Not if I can help it." grinned Ron.

OOC:
Thanks for the intro Arnaut, and as for the characterization and length, no problem for either, I took some liberties as well based on the fact that i've never RPd with you guys for that long.  Well here goes... i hope the information i gave was legit enough... i don't have a grasp of the situation yet so...
Ron-Goron:.Private First Class
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TRP/PFC Ron-Goron/3SQD/1PLT/1COMP/1BAT/Tadath/VEA
View Ron's Wiki at: http://www.vastempire.com/wiki/index.php?title=Ron-Goron

"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I can not shoot, the courage to shoot the things I can, and the wisdom to hide the bodies."- Anonymous
[This message has been edited by Ron (edited May 4, 2008 5:36:41 PM)]
RK
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RK
 
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  RE: Dead Men Tell No Lies (Wraith)
May 5, 2008 10:02:27 PM    View the profile of RK 
Little light made it's way into the one room apartment. It was a quiet little abode, a place where you could just kick back and relax. It looked as if it hadn't been lived in for that long, or maybe Ron just kept it that clean. Still it was a nice place.

“So, you actually live here?” RK grinned.

“Yea, it's nothing special, just a place to eat, sleep, hang out.” Ron was still talking to Arnaut, about what RK didn't know, but whatever it was it had to do with Albatross.

“Do you ever clean out your Refrigerator?” D'har asked, his face was looking a little pale, and he was heading towards the restroom.

“Not really, I just know what to eat and what not.”

RK couldn't help but let out a small laugh. He hadn't been with Wraith for long, but he knew he was going to get used to this. “So where going to crash here?”

“Yea, for now, until we get our barrings, or we formulate a plan.” Arnaut replied.

"Well that's all fine with me." RK said
*_*_*

Time seemed to pass slowly; it had seemed like it had been a lifetime ago since they had busted out of prison."Is D'har alright?"

“He'll be alright, but...” A wretched sound interrupted Aranut. The sound was coming from the refreshers; D'har was still stuck inside, trying to get rid of whatever he ate. "... then agian maybe not.”

RK jumped onto the couch. “I thought you'd never ask.” It felt good to lay back and rest. His whole body was still aching from the crash they had encountered back on Tadath. Ah, it feels good to be home.

OOC:
I don't know how well any of you know Mando'a but I just thought I would let you know. Di'kut means Moron.
TRP/CPL RK/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1RGT/1BAT/Tadath/VEA/VE [ES 2nd Class] [CoR]

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"I am the best at what I do, only what I do isn't very nice" - wolverine[*]
[This message has been edited by RK (edited May 6, 2008 7:41:40 PM)]
[This message has been edited by RK (edited May 6, 2008 7:59:36 PM)]
Arnaut
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Arnaut
 
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  RE: Dead Men Tell No Lies (Wraith)
May 6, 2008 10:56:23 PM    View the profile of Arnaut 
“On second thought, RK, get down to that hotel and get everyone back here,” Arnaut commanded quickly, remembering that the rest of the squad would be gathering about this time. RK sighed, pulling himself off the couch with great difficulty, and trudged toward the door. “And hurry!” Arnaut snapped, sending RK outside and down the stairs quickly. Arnaut directed his attention toward Ron, who had made it back upstairs.

“You have any back-up hideouts? Rented apartments, any other places that the local police forces won’t know about because they’d just chased a guy through it? We’ll probably need to move tonight, if not sooner.”

“There’s one near the lit-lane.”

“Lit-lane?”

“Oh yeah, brightest area of town, or so they claim. Casinos, cantinas, clubs...the works,”

Arnaut looked at D’har slyly. D’har returned the stare, with a slight smile on his lips.

“Could you, by chance, run into, say, a black market dealer down there?” Arnaut asked innocently, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling.

“Possibly,” Ron said, smiling as well.

* * *


Arnaut sat at the cantina table, fingers pyramided, and jaded glossy look on his face. His Corellian ale sat untouched, filled to the brim. Arnaut had ordered three like it already, to keep the bar keeper happy and unsuspicious of why a man would choose the back-most corner of the cantina and not drink. Tabac smoke wafted through the air, clouding the cantina in a dim haze. Arnaut tried to keep out of it as best as possible, but it was everywhere. It did provide a good deal of privacy, though. Maybe that’s why this cantina was chosen.

Two days of hunting. Two days of hunting, and only two leads to show for it. RK, Ron, and D’har were looking up the other one, a guy off the market street that said he knew some arms dealers across town. They were scheduled to meet in, oh...thirty-five minutes, Arnaut observed, looking down at his wrist-chron. Hopefully one of them would lead somewhere.

Arnaut’s contact was supposed to have been in the bar twelve minutes ago. He had some large quantities of reedug narcotics he wanted to dump fast. It just so happened that a few of the freighters Albatross had attacked had been en route from the Anoat Sector, laden with said drug. It was a better lead than they were hoping for, just as long as it came through.

As if on cue, a man appeared out of the haze suddenly at Arnaut’s side and took a seat. He was a large man, taller than Arnaut by a head. His bare scalp was covered in tatoos as well as his tree trunk-like arms. He stared at Arnaut with a general air of impassiveness before calmly taking the drink away from Arnaut. He sniffed it first, finally took a sip, and then drank the whole thing in one gulp.

“You’re in the right place at the right time with the right drink, so for now I’ll assume you’re the person I came to meet,” the man said. Arnaut only nodded, keeping his cool. A find sheen of perspiration appeared on his brow though. If things went south here, Arnaut probably wouldn’t leave alive. He should’ve accepted back up, even though the man had told him to come alone. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Arnaut kept his cool, but on the inside he was freaking out. Slowly he rested his hand on his E-11, hidden in his jacket under the table. The man must’ve noticed the movement because he quickly spoke up.

“Wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the man warned. Arnaut hadn’t realized it, but the man was wearing a wrist-blaster. Arnaut wouldn’t even have a chance to pull his gun before he’d be a smoking corpse. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

“Let’s move before discussing anything further,” the man said.

“No thanks,” Arnaut replied, leaning back, “I’d prefer to do it right here.”

“Alright, but you might have to fess up to the two CorSec officers over there.” He nodded to a table to the right a bit. Arnaut confirmed this with a half glance. They would definitely notice something was up, and then he’d be in some serious trouble. But he could also be in trouble if he went out on the streets alone with this guy. Necessary risk, he decided. He had to earn the man’s trust sometime.

“Let’s go,” Arnaut grudgingly said.

They walked out of the cantina, two minutes apart and taking separate directions.  You could never be too cautious when it came to this stuff it seemed. Rightly so. Arnaut could feel the CorSec officers' eyes on him the entire way. Arnaut walked for five meters, turned back as if he’d forgotten something, walked past the cantina and took a right into the first alley. Shadows cloaked the entire length of it in darkness, and even the neon glare of lit-lane didn’t penetrate it. Arnaut hesitated before going in, double-checked to make sure he had all his knives, and then walked in. Just a few steps in and he felt the cold, hard barrel of a muzzle at the back of his head.

“Hands where I can see them,” a voice said. It sounded like the man from the bar, but Arnaut wasn’t sure. Considering the situation, he really had no choice. Arnaut did as he was told. He had nothing valuable on him anyway, so if the whole meeting was some sort of trap, the man would be sorely disappointed.

The man patted him down for weapons, turned him around and pushed him roughly towards the wall. In the dim light, Arnaut recognized the man from the bar, holding an auto-rifle pointed at Arnaut’s head.

“You have two knives up both sleeves, one in each boot, two in your coat with an E-11. Anything else I should no about, or can we proceed?” Damn. The man was good. Arnaut shook his head. “Good. Move toward any of those spots, or just generally move in a way I don’t like, and I will shoot you. Understood?” Arnaut nodded quickly, keeping his hands spread out along the wall. He didn’t want any trouble, not from this guy. He’d only missed one weapon Arnaut had, the small, slender blade inserted into the top of his right, leather bracer. It wasn’t as good as his old blades, and nowhere the amount of weaponry he would like to have, but he comforted himself with the small advantage he’d retained.

“The dealer, let’s call him Subject R for now, sent me to find you because you expressed an interest in purchasing his wares. Is this true?” Arnaut nodded, letting the man talk for now. He was all servitude, at least for as long as the man had a blaster trained on him.

“You expressed a keen desire to set up a face to face deal, is this correct?” Arnaut nodded again.

“Do you have the necessary funds?” Arnaut nodded again.

“I’m reaching for the credit wafer,” Arnaut explained slowly, reaching carefully into his jacket. He pulled out a small chip the size of his thumb. While not necessarily worthless, the credit chip, containing over 100,000 New Republic credits, could only be accessed by Ron’s voice and fingerprint ID. It was military-grade, top of the line, and Arnaut would like to see a slicer try to hack it. It was all the credits left of the funds Ron’s team had been given upon insertion into Corellia and, as of right then, the only funds for the entire squad.

The man reached over, snatching the chip out of Arnaut’s hand. He read the print of the chip quickly and handed it back to Arnaut who slowly put it back in his jacket.

“Meeting granted. If you’ll follow me, Subject R sent a speeder for us,” the man said.

Arnaut followed, well aware of the monstrosity at his back. The shuttle was at the other end of the speeder, waiting to take them away into the depths of the city. Arnaut stepped in followed immediately by the man. The interior was dark, and the windows nearly opaque. Designed on purpose, so their clientele wouldn’t know where they were going, no doubt.

With the most subtle of motions, the speeder took off, gliding swiftly through the town and into the unknown. All Arnaut could do was wait and hope that this  speeder wasn’t carrying him to his grave.

OOC:
Alright, boys and girls, post is up! D’har (not here I assume) Ron and RK, you’re in charge of securing the other deal. That means meeting up with the guy that supposedly has the weapons for sale. If you wanted to make it interesting (wink wink) I’d make it a trap and get into a firefight, but that’s just me. I have a mini-thing for my little part right here, that’ll be summed up soon. So...don’t touch it except in mentions.

Our apartment changed, it’s now in the busy section of town. We’re all there. We have 100,000 creds, total, and we’ve bought some RUDIMENTARY gear. I have a few knives, you guys can buy some other things. No armor above chest plates, no high-tech guns. Low profile, guys and gals, means low profile. Have fun and don’t get hurt (too much)

Oh yes, police on Corellia are the CorSec. And what language is that, RK?
Platoon Sergeant Arnaut
SL/PSG Arnaut/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/Tadath/VEA [ES2] [EW1] [CoS]
Imperial Network Star Wars Image
-=Wraith PRIDE=--=SL=-
+ Advance Recon Commandos {ARC} +
~ W i l d c a r d P l a t o o n ~

"Take care of your equipment, and your equipment will take care of you"

"I read another article whining about how much violence is on television...I'd like to shoot the idiots who think this stuff affects me" -Calvin, Calvin and Hobbes
[This message has been edited by Arnaut (edited May 6, 2008 10:58:43 PM)]
[This message has been edited by Arnaut (edited May 8, 2008 11:37:43 PM)]
RK
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RK
 
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  RE: Dead Men Tell No Lies (Wraith)
May 7, 2008 7:26:04 PM    View the profile of RK 
Even on the outskirts of the Lit-lane it were bright. The illumination seemed to be alive, like it was trying to reach every dark corner and alleyway. It felt un-safe, but RK was used to it, his whole life had been un-safe.

“Are you there?” D'har was waving a face in front of RK. He hadn't realized he had lost himself in his thoughts.

“Yea” He shook his head, trying to come back to reality. He never thought this meeting would be so dreadfully boring.

Ron shot RK a look. It felt like it had been to hours since they had found the man they now stood before. None of them knew him, however, Ron had heard about him; His name, Ujik Kuyler. He was smaller than RK was, and RK wasn't about to put it past him to put up a fight, after all he was in a squad with Wicket once.

“Alright, I will tell you what you want, but what's in it for me?” Ujik was stroking his gray beard. He looked like a nice old man, but something was mysterious about him.

“What do you want?” Ron didn't even let anyone say anything. don't worry he knows what he's doing he's Corellian after all.

“Credits.” Plain and simple, maybe there wasn't anything wrong with this guy after all. Something still didn't feel right though.

“I don't have any credits, what about I just give you my speeder.” RK couldn't help but give Ron a confused glance. what the ...?

“Speeder?”

“a Q-1600, normal stock, straight off the line.”

RK started to doze off this was getting even more boring then it had ten minutes ago. He started to look around again, that's when he saw it. Two men heading in there direction, he couldn't tell what they were holding but they looked like rifles. maybe they are just...

“Well then, we have a deal.”Ujik slipped his hand into his right pocket and pulled out a small datapad, RK noticed something under his jacket. A pistol.

Ron must've not seen it cause he was signing the datapad, not even looking up.

“RON DUCK!!!” Ron swerved around to look at where RK was standing. It was to late, fire erupted from the two men.

oh, your just made a big mistake ujik RK pulled his E-11 carbine as fast as possible. Two shots whizzed passed his head. Ujik was already moving he pulled the pistol out of his jacket and aimed it at Ron. Ron however was already moving. He grabbed the man's hand . D'har was ducking behind a cart, firing whenever he got a chance.

Could this get any worse?
TRP/CPL RK/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1RGT/1BAT/Tadath/VEA/VE [ES 2nd Class] [CoR]

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"I am the best at what I do, only what I do isn't very nice" - wolverine[*]
Ron-Goron
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Ron-Goron
 
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  RE: Dead Men Tell No Lies (Wraith)
May 9, 2008 3:54:37 PM    View the profile of Ron-Goron 
"Ron, Duck!" yelled RK as he pulled out his E-11. Ron dropped on all fours as three slugs embedded themselves in the wall just beyond his head.

"Damned alley goons." thought Ron. He whipped out out his own E-11 and shot without hesitation, making one of the gunmen hide behind some debris. He shot four more times before he ran out of ammo; the man he was after still hiding behind the debris. Ron threw the gun down and ejected the Rodian ceremonial blade from the palm of his hand. As he approached the debris, he heard the heavy breathing of the man on the other side. He picked up a rock and threw it over the barricade; making a sound on the other side of the barricade. The man, now clearly seen was heavier and much older than Ron was. As the rock smacked against metal, the man turned and fired an entire round into the metal.

"I know you're there!" he screamed. The beads of sweat were heavily falling on his face. He fumbled in his pocket for a new magazine, which he jammed into the heavy blaster pistol he was carrying. "I won't be long till I kill you!" he yelled. Ron smiled behind the debris. He picked up a few more rocks and threw them in different directions, careful to make sure that the source of the throws were not revealed.

"Where are you?" the man yelled as he fired shots into the surrounding alley way. "You can't live forever..."

He was cut off in mid sentence. A painful, disgruntled look appeared on his face. A swift jerk forced his head upwards, making his entire body jump upwards as if shocked by an electric current. Suddenly a soft crack was heard, a sound like the snap of bone, and all at once he fell dead to the ground, exposing Ron crouched behind him with his bloody rodian dagger flashing in the dim light. "And neither can you." said Ron simply. He turned away from the spine-cut corpse, and ran down to where he saw D'har fighting off the other man.

D'har was more strait-forward with his target, firing several shots in consecutive patterns at him. The other man was clearly on the defensive, and he was running backwards constantly... tripping and losing his steps the entire way. D'har picked up his pace to a run, still patiently firing short bursts at his frightened opponent. The man at last came to a dead end, at which he promptly attempted to switch his direction of running: by throwing a small grenade at D'har. D'har however was quick, and ran towards the man at the same time that he threw the grenade at him. D'har jumped up in the air, caught the grenade, and threw the it right back at the man, who upon recieving it promptly exploded.

"Nicely done." grunted Ron when D'har had finished searching the scattered remains. "Should've just shot him, would'of been easier." D'har said modestly.

The two headed back to RK and Ujik, who both out of ammo were in a deadly knife fight. RK had Ujik on the ground, the latter fighting with all his might to keep the dangerous blade from cutting his throat. RK was sweating badly, and had several veins protruding from his forhead.

D'har was about to run up to aid RK, when Ron held him back. "RK has him beat." Ron whispered. "If you interrupt the fight, it could distract him." D'har nodded and watched as RK successfully pushed through Ujik's defenses, and slit his throat.

D'har ran forward to help RK up, who was grumbling, "Damned old man, I knew he was good for nothing." RK took D'har's hand and stood up, whereas Ron inspected the dead body of Ujik.

"This isn't the guy we want." Ron said simply.

"What? So you're telling me we got another ambush we have to go to?" grumbled RK. "We might as well get aquainted the Hutts while where on this wild goose chase."

"This man Ujik... he must have been working for someone now. Strange that he would have offered to come in person now that I think about it.

"Now you tell us." grunted D'har.

"Well do we have anything to go by?" asked RK.

"Lemme check." responded Ron.

He dug into the pockets of the corpse. He didn't find much, only a few credits and some rounds to his gun. So he wasn't so dumb, for all that crap he pulled. thought Ron. Ron was just about to give up, when he found the small electronic address booklet in his leather jacket pocket. "What do we have here?" said Ron aloud to himself.

Ron turned on the small pad, which was password protected. He took out a hacking chip from his belt and inserted it into the input jack, which immediately bipassed the password. After inspecting the contents, he grinned and pocketed the device.

"Well?" said RK. "Are you going to hide that thing from us or are you going to tell us what you found?"

"Not only do I know where we have to go to find his boss." said Ron, "I also just found the location of thirteen other underground dealer's shops. If this one don't work out, chances are that one of the other thirteen will."

"What happens when they found out we killed one of their kind?" said RK. "What then?"

"They aren't all friendly with each other you know." replied Ron. "There's a reason why there are fourteen of them."

"Alright then." said RK. "What's the plan?"

"It's easy." reassured Ron. "All we have to do is play the parts just right."

***

They arrived at the location of Ujik's former boss. It was in the basement of one of the larger cantinas on the Lit Lane. Ron, D'har, and RK stood at the entrance way; each of them contemplating what would befall them once they entered the cantina.

"This better not end up as rotten as the last deal." grumbled RK.

"The drinks better not be rotting either." added D'har.

"I hope Jaklak is in a good mood." said Ron to himself.

As the three entered, they fell out of order and split up, as practice hardened practice and experience had already taught them. D'har took a stool at the bar where he was immediatly served two drinks to satisfy his thirst. RK went to the entertainment and gambling sector where he merely spectated... while he waited for Ron's signal.

Ron in the meantime found an empty table near in a obscured location of the bar, a favorite location of underground dealers and smugglers. The table was nearly entirely obcured by the rest of the cantina by three large dividers which rose up about seven feet vertically. These three walls acted like decoration, but their purpose was much more important than purely scenery. Ron sat in one of the cushioned seats, and putting his feet up on the table; he lit himself a lung-blaster. He did not shelter the flame with his hands, but instead let it shine for a brief moment. It was an old gang symbol. Anyone waiting in the cantina to talk to Ron would see the flame and head over immediately, but probably armed. Ron smiled to himself as he played with the loaded DL-44 Heavy Blaster Pistol he recently stole. He had found it on one of the men whom they ran into two hours earlier, and already he liked it.

Not five minutes later, a tall rodian approached the table. The Rodian wasn't heavily built, but he had a mean look in his bug-like eyes, and he had deadly quick reflexes. It had been said at one time, that Jaklak the Rodian had the quickest reflexes out of any of the smugglers in Corellia, a title which won him fame and respect.

"Ah Ron." started the Rodian in the high-pitched accent of his people. "You like Jaklak's present?" he laughed to himself as he took his seat across from Ron.

"I hate this guy."

"It was a good plan." replied Ron. "But you forgot one thing."

"Jaklak's mistake was..." started the rodian.

"It's me." laughed Ron. The rodian politely smiled, but it was clear that annoyance and some anger was on his face.

"Jaklak knows why you are here, Ron, but you may as well save your pathetic breath. There is no deal." Jaklak said coldly.

"Because he's angry over not being able to kill me? Or because he's finally wisened up."

"And why is that?" returned Ron.

"You killed Jaklak's men. You try to trick Jaklak into making deal that hurts Jaklak in the end. You not fooling this Rodian again Ron. No deal." said Jaklak stubbornly.

"Dammit. It's both."

"Now Jak." began Ron. "You and I go way back, longer than most. It hasn't been easy... I screw you over, you screw me over... then we make up again."

"No." said the Rodian. "You always screw Jak over, then Jak tries to get back at you, but you never die." Jaklak's eyes narrowed and his voice deepened as he said, "But this time Jaklak isn't going to mess up. Ron will be dead before this night is out!"

"His hand isn't anywhere near his gun. He isn't doing anything. Why not kill me now? Maybe I can close this deal..."

"Jak." said Ron calmly. "Jak, it's me. C'mon trust me Jak, I promise you you'll win with this deal. I got more than 35,000 credits for you; just for making up between you and me. That does'nt even count for what we're going to pay you to ship me and my pals outta here."

"I charge five each." said the Rodian quickly.

"Hook, line, and sinker... I got him."

"I'll add an extra three for the fuel." added Ron.

The rodian pondered this last statement. Ron had never offered money so quickly before. He always was hard to deal with, and then on top of that, he would always steal the money back. Perhaps this was was Ron was like when he was honest. But then again, he never knew Ron as an honest person. He'd have to trust him... this deal would easily make him sixty thousand credits, and on that he could live very comfortably for the next few days.

"Close the deal." Jaklak said finally.

"I knew you'd see reason." Ron answered. Jaklak got up from the table uncomfortably, he still didn't trust Ron. Ron saw his hesitation and pulled Jaklak to the bar.

"C'mon Jak, it's goin to be different from now on." reassured Ron. "You just gotta trust me." Jaklak grumbled and sat at the bar.

"A drink for me and my friend here." said Ron in a loud voice.

That was the signal. Quickly the two forms of D'har and RK made their way over to where Ron and Jaklak were sitting. D'har sat at a table immediately behind Ron and Jaklak, while RK took an empty seat next to Jaklak.

The bartender walked over and said, "Can I help you felluhs?"

"Me and my friend here will have two tall Lorsts..." stated Ron.

"Make it three." said RK quickly. The bartender grunted and headed over to fill the glasses. Meanwhile, RK pulled out a strong sleeping drug from his pocket and was held it in the palm of his hand. Ron was talking quietly and slowly to Jaklak, who was calming down, and D'har was inching his seat towards Ron and Jaklak.

The drinks came, and the three began to drink. Ron sipped at his drink, never swallowing, and RK had secretly released his sleeping potion into his drink. The rodian, Jaklak, was still apprehensive about his drink... he secretly feared that it was poisoned.

"C'mon Jaklak, drink up!" said Ron jovially.

Jaklak still looked at his drink apprehensively, RK then said. "Looks like your friend here don't trust the drink." he grinned as he took a gulp of Jaklak's drink. "Tastes fine to me." he said. As he swallowed, he saw the nervous look on Jaklak's face begin to dissapear. RK slid the drink back across the table, however, it spilled before it reached him. "Dammit all!" RK said. "Here, take mine, I ordered the same."

Jaklak took the drink without another word. RK called to the bartender to give him another drink, and by now, D'har had pickpocketed everything of value in Jaklak's pants and jacket. Ron stole a look back at D'har who was resting in his chair with his eyes closed. The plan was up, it was time to leave.

Ron then turned to Jaklak, who was beginning to feel drowsy and drunk; and said in seemingly drunken voice, "Here is to our friendship!" Jaklak rasied his glass and downed it, falling off his chair in a heavily dosed sleep. Ron raised his glass to his lips and then spat it out saying, "Deal over Jak. Don't ever try and ambush me... ever."

***

Outside the bar, they inspected the pickpocketed gains.  D'har revealed that he stole over twenty thousand credits, a valuable dagger, and a license to the ship "Timborlaaden." The three congradulated each other on their finds, and then headed back to Ron's apartment on the Lit Lane... anxious to hear of Arnaut's deal...
Ron-Goron:.Private First Class
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"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I can not shoot, the courage to shoot the things I can, and the wisdom to hide the bodies."- Anonymous
[This message has been edited by Ron (edited May 9, 2008 4:02:38 PM)]
[This message has been edited by Ron (edited May 9, 2008 4:04:42 PM)]
[This message has been edited by Ron (edited May 9, 2008 4:09:09 PM)]
Jennabelle
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Jennabelle
 
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  RE: Dead Men Tell No Lies (Wraith)
May 10, 2008 7:25:10 AM    View the profile of Jennabelle 
Filmub'ra appeared in Jenny’s sights, she was a girl of Jenny’s just 20 year old age with the same blue eyes with black eyebrows that she had but with a fierce attitude that only hid in that low and darkish voice. Her skin gray unlike her appearance, with the only expection is that big lips to her fluffy face. Jenny grunted in disgust with her goth like attire and appearance as she whipped her two fellow female companions like whipping sex slaves with her neuronic whip and showing her singing off in front of other ladies in their own personal prostitute bar band. Oh boy, I sure hope Mia don’t come here, she’d love this. Jenny thought, dazzled as after the song was over and she was picked by Filmub’ra to the back stage, she thought that this was one experience she would go to hell before occurring.

    Backstage, it was makeup room and bedroom mixed with a perfume compound smell and a stink of men’s hair or something, it made Jenny shudder to think she’d made this decision to go inside Albatross’ women, but she had to, and at least she knew Filmub’ra, back in that feminism planet, what was it called she can’t remember. But the last thing she wanted as she sat in the comfortable couch in front of Filmub’ra and her two goth bodyguards armed with Sat’skar swords, was sex, especially female sex, it made her kept staring at the dreadful bedroom in the back of the makeup room.

    “We’re not going to ask you to do that, Jenny, stop staring the bedroom, all you have to do is beat these two bitches and I’ll let you know where Albatross gets his women. We used to have a great relationship, you and I, and I enjoyed having these special fun times with you, but now I must do something I hate to do, for I am his lady, and he is my shining knight. My darlings, kill her.” Filmub’ra stated all in Basic, in her fake sweet voice, except that last line in Twi'leki as she lashed at her ladies to follow her orders, handing Jenny’s own Ch’sei sword back to her.

    And they did, with quite precision, as Jenny caught the sword and barely deflected one attack, hitting the table behind her, crushing the table behind her, before the other attack sliced at her tight dress, revealing her bikini underneath a little, the same one she wore the night that happened with Filmub’ra. She cursed in Twi’leki as she got back up and slashed at both of the ladies, dodging each slash in turn. This isn’t going to be easy, but I’ll manage. She thought as she took out the hidden sword that she had kept within the one sword and continued to fight tooth and nail with them.

    Then as she fought on and on with her vibroblade, and room was being teared to pieces, smashed mirrors, turned over chairs, and desks, and makeup compound all over the floor. Jenny bruising not only a bikini revealing, but also a couple of deep cuts on her left and right shoulders. She found that they were easily distracted by the surrounding environment, which she used to her advantage by suddenly spraying one of the slaves with pepper spray, found in her purse, and quickly slicing her furry cat-like head off.
        After that she got the breath kicked out of her by the other more dog-like girl, feeling her biting fury with her wild slashes, which Jenny dodged with ease, for they were much too wild, almost killing Filmub’ra as she dodged and whipped the crazed, could be doped slave to kill her and not her master, which she didn’t, and suddenly, to Jenny’s surprise, removed a VIP entrance card for a bar called Azalus with its address from Filmub’ra and killed the double with a slice in her throat with a rodian ceremonial dagger and gave it to Jenny, in which she licked the blood and tasted the red hot flames within, which stood before her in reality, a beautiful and sexy women named Filmub’ra.

    “I hate to be the encyclopedia, but that’s all the info you’re gonna get, the rest is up to you. And I rather not have you circle around and try a samurai kill on me, cause that kills, you know.” Filmub’ra said as she chuckled a cold smile while Jenny shook her free left hand in thanks and they left, wishing each other good luck.

    Thank god that’s over, now let’s see what Arnaut will do with this information. Jenny reflected, as she stuffed the ceremonial dagger in her left sheath and stuffed the VIP entrance card in her bag, which she also got from Filmub’ra as Jenny left, for Filmub’ra was quite the bisexual, resourceful, and appealing girl that any man or women couldn’t resist.

OOC:
Azalus means danger, and Ch’sei means death, in Twi'leki, Twilek's own language.
-=Wraith PRIDE=- 

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"So do all who seeks to live, but that is not for them to decide. All you have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to you." -Gandalf the Grey
RK
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RK
 
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  RE: Dead Men Tell No Lies (Wraith)
May 10, 2008 10:35:09 PM    View the profile of RK 
It hurt, his whole body hurt. Sweat was still pouring down from the brawl he had gotten into with Ujik. RK continuously was looking down at his blood stained clothes, it wasn't something an average every day tourist would have all over there clothes, but he wasn't a normal tourist. well, the good thing is that there is a change of clothes waiting at base At least what they could consider base.

They were walking back into the lit-lane. RK eyes had adjusted to the light along time ago, it was to the point where it didn't bother him when he walked around.

He noticed he was continuously opening and closing his fist, it hurt from the scar he had sustained from the dagger; but it helped calm him down.

“Hey, you should get that checked.” D'har commented pointing to the hand. “Daggers like that usually are dipped in a liquid, and you know what that means...”

“It wasn't, it would sting a lot worse than it does now.” RK said, even though the pain still excruciating.

“He's right, you still should get it checked.” Ron was keeping his eyes straight in front of him, he didn't even look alive when RK looked at him.

It took a while, but they were back in the apartment.  It felt good to feel the cool air, Corellia wasn't a very hot planet, but it was something about the apartment and it's atmosphere that made them relax; maybe it was the security that it gave them, or maybe it reminded them of the home they used to know, the one they were now running from.

“Arnaut's not back yet, but he shouldn't be gone much longer, we left about the same time. And chances are he didn't get in a fist fight.” Ron was checking out the window to make sure they hadn't been followed, even with the security it wasn't a bad idea to check.

“Well, might as well get...” D'har stopped and was apparently staring at the refrigerator. RK and Ron both knew what was coming next. “... then again I'm not that hungry.”

Again RK let out a soft laugh. D'har shot him a “shut up” look, RK stopped laughing and froze; He quickly took the hint and jumped onto the couch like he had done when they had first gotten here. It was comfortable, Ron had good taste.

“Where's Jennabelle anyway?” Ron asked. RK hadn't thought of it, where had she gone to?

“don't know, maybe Arnaut found her, all I know is she can take care of herself.” D'har interrupted. He was headed towards the sleeping quarter it was just off from the right of the kitchen. “And so I don't worry about it I'm going to get some sleep.”

“Yea sounds good, I call the couch.” RK grinned, he was already starting to doze off. Leaving Ron who was still sitting at the table in front of the only window in the whole apartment, which even then gave limited view.

RK fell asleep fast. As he did, a million thoughts occurred: What if were always considered traitors?what if this never ends? Will we ever see the barracks again? What if...........
TRP/CPL RK/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1RGT/1BAT/Tadath/VEA/VE [ES 2nd Class] [CoR]

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[This message has been edited by RK (edited May 14, 2008 10:19:10 AM)]
Arnaut
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Arnaut
 
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  RE: Dead Men Tell No Lies (Wraith)
May 13, 2008 8:46:21 PM    View the profile of Arnaut 
Presently the speeder came to a stop, gliding gracefully to a location in who knows where. Arnaut only knew that it'd stopped because of the way the speeder rocked gently, the first movement that he’d felt since the ride had began. He’d long since given up trying to stare out the window. The number of turns they took and the fact that the windows were shaded to near opaqueness meant that all he could see out them was a jumble of loosely defined moving shapes. So it came as a shock, then, when Arnaut stepped out and found he was no longer in the city.

He was surrounded by a lush tropical forest. The stone path he stood on meandered into the distance, passing through a tiny paved square complete with a fountain in the middle. The sounds of flowing water could be heard from nearby, in at least two directions, and exotic birds sang distantly through the trees. Arnaut didn’t realize that Corellia had many tropical forests, especially so close to the city of Coronet. That’s when he noticed that, despite his initial thought, they hadn’t ever left the city. Just barely showing, in between the leaves, Arnaut could make out the outline of the cityscape. Except it...seemed shorter. Which meant that this walled villa was not only on the inside of the city, a feat requiring exorbitant amounts of money, but also up high, probably part of a larger complex. Money had its rewards.

Behind him, the speeder slowly descended back down the shaft, into the lower part of the building and, presumably, the garage. Arnaut watched it leave, and then slowly turned back around, taking in the surroundings again. His escort was already moving.

“Hey, erm...buddy? Can I call you buddy?”

“Kroh. Vakrius Kroh.”

“Alright, Kroh. How’s this deal going to play out? I just...y’know...can’t be strolling through town with narcotics crates in my speeder,” Arnaut asked lightly. Kroh looked back.

“We’re not stupid. We have a way of getting it to you...discreetly. Save the rest of your questions for my employer.” Arnaut silenced himself and listened to the bird chirps instead. The distant, melodic squawks and shrieks were pleasing. Soothing. Maybe they’d been chosen on purpose, to lull guests off their guard. A piercing, animilistic roar screamed through the trees suddenly, followed by a number of loud clicks.

Kroh stopped, spinning around and holding up his rifle. Arnaut, despite himself, shivered. If Kroh was scared, then Arnaut should be doubly so. Something told Arnaut that that noise wasn’t normal. The birds quieted, leaving an uncomfortable void in place of their tunes. Arnaut slowly pulled out his gun; Kroh didn’t protest. They moved forward, more cautiously, more slowly now.

They finally arrived at the building. It was immense and awe-inspiring, rising out of the trees in one immense piece of glass and metal. All the walls were transparent, allowing the light to shine in and providing a panoramic view of the garden from the inside. But that wasn’t what either Kroh or Arnaut were looking at.

Most of the wall glistening with sickly, black splotches of liquid. Blood.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Kroh said, rushing forward. His heavy-carbine was held out in front of him, his wrist blaster primed and ready. They moved in slowly.

The stench was overwhelming. The combination of blood, stale piss, and the cloying smell of death combined into one nauseating jumble. Arnaut swayed slowly, and then retched on the floor next to him. Needless to say, it did nothing to improve the smell.

“When...when was the last time you were here?” Arnaut asked, once he’d regained some of his composure. Frig, but the smell was awful. He put a sleeve over his nose. It didn’t work.

“Three...three days,” Kroh said, looking down at the ground. No, not at the ground. At his feet were two skeletons, bloodied and torn, with chunks of rapidly decaying meat still stuck on them. Kroh was going rapidly into shock. “My...my men. These were my men.”

“Kroh. Kroh!” Arnaut yelled. “If there’s any chance of getting out of here alive, we’ll need to work together. Can we take the speeder back out? Kroh?” Kroh looked ‘round and nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll...we’ll go back and get it. I’ll give the driver a call.” He pressed the comlink attached to his wrist blaster as they slowly backtracked their way back into the jungle..

“Frego. We’re leaving. Now. Bring up the speeder.” Static.

“Frego, we need to go now. Please respond.” Still nothing.

“Frego, I repeat, we—”

“Oh Gods, they’re everywhere! I can’t see...surving....shit, shit shit... nearly...off my arm! Kroh! Kroh! Heeeelp!”

“Frego! Frego! Get out of there!”

“Sir I—” Whatever Frego had been about to say was lost in a jumble of screams and horrible ripping noises. The line went dead. Arnaut looked around now, with his attention not on the comlink anymore. They were in the middle of an artificial jungle with...something out there, and no point of continuing seeing as how their speeder wouldn’t be waiting for them at the other end.

“Let’s...let’s go back inside,” Arnaut said, backing up. Kroh nodded slowly, backing up slowly as well. They didn’t stop until they were back in the horrible smelling atrium of the giant house, mutilated bodies and all.

“Alright, alright, let’s calm down and think. Just think.” Kroh’s hands were shaking pretty badly, but he maintained some level of calmness to his voice. “Frego was on the third floor when he...he...was attacked. There are vehicles on the second floor, and we’re currently on the...twelfth.” His voice sagged and he sank down to his knees.

“We’re going to die, we’re both going to die in this place,” he whimpered, his facade cracking. Arnaut pulled him to his feet, no small feat considering his girth.

“No, we’re not,” Arnaut said firmly. “We will fight to the end; we will not go out soiling our pants.” Kroh smiled weakly, and nodded. He seemed reassured, at least for the moment. “So...where to?”

“There’s a secure armory about two levels down. If there are any survivors, they’d be there. If there aren’t...at least we can get some firepower on our side.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

* * *


Outside, the shadier part of Coronet, the Blue Sector, went on with its business relatively unperturbed. So what if no one had come out of the old Hagen Mansion in a few days, so what if there had been screams reported from the premises about two days prior. Such was normal for the part of town. Descending into the depths was a hive of crime and filth that would make the likes of Nar Shadaa and Coruscant proud.

It came as a surprise, though, when three PSS patrol vehicles came floating down the street and stopped in front of the Hagen Mansion. That was new. PSS patrols generally ignored the Blue Sector, in fact, ignored most of the crime anywhere in the city. The local clientele immediately scattered, and more than one shopkeep looked on the speeders with a frown of disdain over their lost customers. They hovered in the street, slick, menacing.  No one so much as approached them, leaving the roads deserted. The PSS may not have policed much, but no one wanted to cross them.

Almost at once, the doors opened and PSS officers stepped out. Dressed in the standard gray and black fatigues, they didn’t seem menacing, but their stern faces told a different story. All said and done, the three vehicles amounted to only nine troopers. They looked around the empty roads for a second, as if daring anyone to come out, and then got to work. They moved up to the door and gave it a knock. No answer. They knocked again. Still none. They didn’t give the owners a third time. One of the officers procured a small, round object to his belt and fastened it to the door handle. They spread out away from the door and shielded their eyes. There was a click, and then the door exploded inwards. Seven officers went in, leaving two to watch from the doorway outside.

The insides were...were fetid, like decaying meat, or week old cheese. Except worse. Sergeant Joran, currently taking point, gagged and covered his nose. Hopefully, it would go away with time, right? They’d get used to it and all? Wrong. Twenty-seven minutes later, two stories up, the smell was just as bad, if not worse, than when they’d entered. Two of the members had wretched violently already, and not only because of the smell. The air was thick with flies, black, darting little insects about the size of a finger-nail. The PSS officers were constantly spitting them out, an endless stream of hapless flies that got caught in their mouths, whenever they involuntarily opened them.

Finally, another of the officers got tired of it. He tossed a frag, much to the protests of the rest of the officers, into the next room. There was a loud bang, and suddenly the incessant buzzing died down a bit. They moved in and found all the flies downed, more from the shockwave than the shrapnel. Joran, still in front, grabbed a broom and began sweeping through the fine layer of them that had collected on the floor.

In the next room, the same officer once again tried to launch a grenade, but he was stopped. He wouldn’t have needed it anyway. The next room was devoid of life; just skeletons, badly shattered and picked to the bone, and some dried blood patches that even the flies did not want. The officers looked around shakily, for the first time not only seeing the signs that anyone else had been in the house, but seeing that this was not some crime bust like they thought it would be. Tracking those two men out of the cantina had been hard. They’d recognized one of the two, a big man that was known to be in league with one of the most notorious drug lords on the Blue Sector. What they hadn’t counted on was the fact that it didn’t seem as though this drug lord, nor even the two men that had entered before the officers were alive.

They didn’t know what had happened in the mansion, but it wasn’t good.

The was a feral screech, from quite a distance away, the first life they’d heard since the flies had disappeared. Silence. The train of officers had stopped to listen. Thirty seconds went by, a minute. Joran started to move again. Then the gunshots broke out. They seemed to be at the same distance as the screech, and they were definitly packing some heat. Joran guessed something akin to the Imperial E-webs, maybe even a high-caliber, solid slug auto cannon. Screeching followed, and then more gunshots. It was clear that something or someone was fighting whatever the hell kept screeching.

“There’re people alive! Let’s go!” Joran yelled. Everyone began to jog forward, CDEF carbines held at the ready.

They reached a flight of stairs, sped up them, and came to face with a monster. It was an insectoid of some sort, with two, long protruding claws and a jagged row of teeth dominating its features. The white exoskeleton was topped with a layer of thicker, black chitin armor spreading all the way down to its long tail. It stared at them curiously for a second, its glowing red eyes staring at them from underneath the helmet of armor that capped its head. Only for a second, though. Then it pounced.

Joran’s dive was the only thing that saved him. He skidded sideways, not a split second before the creature flicked through the air he’d been occupying. Its scything blades, instead of tearing Joran to pieces, cut the next two people to shreds. Ripped open and bleeding everywhere, the two corpses dropped leadenly to the ground. Joran, seized by his military and officer training more than fear, opened fire with his carbine. The shots pinged harmlessly of the things exoskeleton, but it did distract it from tearing off a third officer’s head. It looked at Joran, the same red eyes staring at him menacingly. He saw its muscles contract. He saw how it squatted low, ready for the jump. Joran fired one, last, helpless shot. The creature exploded.

Amazed, Joran looked down at his carbine. Then he realized that he hadn’t even taken the shot. Down the hall, a large brute of a man hefted an autocannon from his shoulder. He was aiming it directly at the blown open creature that was still thrashing on the ground. Two, large shots shook the building and the creature died.

There was another man behind the first, carrying only an A280 rifle, not the giant cannon of a gun that the first was hefting. Joran realized these were the two that they’d seen in the cantina. That’d make the first one...Crow? Crah? No, no...Kroh. Kroh stepped forward, autcannon trained on the dazed men.

“Get up. We’re leaving, now. You can decide to come with us if you want.”

Joran looked up thickly, shock setting in. The smaller man cursed, looked behind him, and then pulled Joran roughly to his feet. Joran looked around, still trying to grasp the situation. There were five officers left. Two were passed out on the floor, one was throwing up in the corner, one was cowering in piss stained pants, and then there was Joran. He stood, eyes forward, body lax.

“Great...” the small man muttered. He turned, looked back down the hall, and then shoved Joran roughly through the door. On the way out, Kroh dragged the two unconscious men to their feet, hoping that they might wake up before they were forced to be left behind. They weren’t unconscious, though. They were dead. One’s throat was slit nicely, the creatures claw having just barely passed through it in its lunge. The other, as far as Kroh could tell, had died of fear. Kroh grabbed the two remaining men and shoved them forward instead. They made no protest.

Down the stairs again they went, racing to the lower levels. The smaller man jumped the stairs, two at a time, making his way faster down the stairs than Joran or the other two officers could manage. He reached the bottom, gasped, and jumped back as a creature lunged through the doorway and smashed into the opposing wall. His A280 tore it apart.

Two more were right behind it though. Joran, finally getting some wits about him, raised his carbine and began to fire. The chitin armor resisted it at first, but he landed two solid hits to one of the thing’s heads, laying it out in a spray of noxious, purple ichor. The second got off a little better. It skidded for a half second, and then lunged up the stairs, blades slicing the retching officer in two. Wet blood dripping off its body, it raised its head to face Kroh. Who promptly shot it in the face. It flopped backwards, over the small man, and onto the floor below.

They were making good time, now, Joran noted. He felt more alert than ever in his life. They would make it out alive! Alive! The word sounded sweet to him. This was all one bad dream, that’s what it was. He would make it out and it would all be better. He was sure of it.

Joran almost made it. Within sight of the door, a creature suddenly pounced, blades scissoring. They hadn’t even seen it, sitting in the corner as it was, devouring the remains of the two unfortunate PSS officers that had come looking for their friends. Joran’s arm came off in the blink of an eye. In another blink, he was spraying pressurized blood all over the room as he thrashed and screamed on the floor.

Kroh was down, a nasty cut on his thigh dropping him to the ground. The creature spun upon landing, its flicking blades taking off the head of the last remaining PSS guard and forcing the smaller man into a backwards dive. That all took place in the space of one and a half seconds. It raised its snout, looking at Kroh intently. It lunged.

Halfway through mid-air, a flurry of shots ripped open its belly and threw it across the room, crashing into a once ornate piece of furniture. It tried to rise, blood seeping from its opened room, but as felled as another hail of bolts took off its head.

The small man crawled to his feet, standing over the body of Joran. He was dead, his blood utterly spent. He looked around the room and found that there were two more people in it than there had been previously. He looked at them with a mix of shock and wonder.

“Forgive us, but it did take us a while to find you guys,” one said. Arnaut gaped, his mouth moving but no words coming out.

“You are, I assume, Arnaut?” The second one asked. “My name is Koll, and this is D-Crowe. Ron sent us.”

OOC:
Alright, a quick summary of what this side thing adds to the mix. If you haven’t guessed, Albatross sent these creatures (see attached link) to assassinate the person I was meeting so that he (Alb) couldn’t be found. Covering his tracks, shall you say. The creatures (as we might/might not find out later) are not allowed to leave the building due to some stuff that Albatross did to them (chips in the mind and such) to control them. That way, he could silently kill the guy within his own home and it solves the plot hole of why didn’t they jump outside and kill people indiscriminately. They’ll be coming back, near the end, but not yet.

Kroh is with us now, with a personal revenge motive against Albatross for the death of his ‘company’. He'll be our impromptu source, as he sorta knows about Albatross’ dealings with his boss.
D-Crowe and Koll are formally introduced into the story, and can begin posting once they’ve read everything leading up to this point.

I know it’s long, but I kinda got carried away. Feel free to post about debriefing in Ron's apartment. (quick story of what went down, and what we think we should do next)

The creatures (familiar to some of you ) are:

here

Have fun!

One last note: I didn't realize, but the CorSec have been disbanded already in our timeline. They are officially replaced with the PSS, Public Safety Service.

One other last note: D-Crow and Koll are the two associates Ron had that he thought had died. Well, they didn't. You can make up a story as to why on your own...
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Koll
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  RE: Dead Men Tell No Lies (Wraith)
May 13, 2008 10:02:32 PM    View the profile of Koll 
Arnaut flexed his jaw a few times before actually speaking. “Yes, yeah, I’m Arnaut,” he finally got out. “That was…how…you just saved us!” Arnaut said.

“It was nothing, sir,” Koll said, holstering his dual blaster pistols for his sensor device. There was very little on the radar that he could discern. There was one, maybe two more of those creatures a little ways on, but when he had rerouted the building’s systems to his datapad and checked the layout of this place, the hangar wasn’t near that area. That didn’t mean that the beasts could move in the time it took them to get to the hangar. He turned to D-Crowe, who was holstering his weapon. “The path ahead is clear, can you help me with this?” Koll gestured to the hulk of a man on the floor that was now clutching his thigh.

“Haja! The thing got me!” he cried. His autocanon lay next to him. Koll figured the man wouldn’t be hefting anything that big for a while. The Zabrak walked around the massive man and weaseled his way under the man’s arm. D-Crowe assisted on the other side. With mighty grunts from both sides, they got the man to his feet. “Hey! What’re you guys doing?” Kroh asked angrily. “I don’t need you wimps to carry me, I can walk myself!”

“Not with that leg the way it is,” Crowe said.

“What do you know, shrimp?” Kroh asked. Completely disregarding the man, Koll began walking forward. D-Crowe soon fell in step.

“Apparently more than you, Hutt-spawn,” Crowe returned.

“Arnaut, sir, the way to the hangar is clear, for the time being. If we don’t move quickly and soon, we’ll encounter more of those insects,” Koll explained, ignoring the other two. “If you could lead the way?”

“Yeah, right, let’s move,” Arnaut said, starting forward. They continued down a few hallways with minimal incident. Koll pulled out his sensor device, still supporting Kroh, and monitored the movements of the insects. They seemed to know where the group was heading. The two blips on his radar moved in an erratic pattern towards the hangar. It was like they wanted to go there, but didn’t quite know where it was.

“Sir, with all due respect,” Koll started. “I think we need to move a little faster. Crowe, do you think you could support half of this bulk’s weight?” Kroh had been limping along, in something of a protest to his wound. It was bleeding rather badly, but they could waste no time to dress it. “Those beasts are closing in on the hangar, and I think it would be wise if we got there before them.” At the suggestion, Arnaut broke into a run.

“I said I could carry my own weight, mudcrutch!” Kroh yelled. Koll and Crowe broke into a run, despite Kroh’s interjections. The two were now nearly dragging the man down the hall.

“Normally, I’d kick your ass for that insult, you schutta, but we can’t waste time picking you up off the floor. Again.” Koll was angry. No one insulted him and got away with it.

By his knowledge, they were almost there. Arnaut turned a corner and found himself in a room full of speeders. The only question was which one to take. It wasn’t a hard decision though; the squad leader took the one closest to the door they had come in from. Anbar and Crowe came in shortly after. Arnaut was already inside it. Crowe and Koll threw Kroh in the back seat and hopped in themselves. “Frig!” Arnaut shouted from the driver’s seat. “We need the ignition codes to start this thing!” He was duly interrupted by a roar from close by. “Can this day get any worse?!”

“Give me some cover,” Koll said, a slight bit of panic gracing his voice. Arnaut got out and started shooting over the speeder. Crowe joined in. Koll threw himself into the front seat and positioned himself under the steering column. He pried the covering off and exposed the wires underneath. He quickly cut a few with his vibroknife. Frantically, he began trying to find a pattern to the colors. The blaster shots outside didn’t really help.

“They could use a little help,” Kroh said sheepishly. Apparently the creatures scared him. Koll tossed his E-11 up to the man.

“Knock yourself out,” he said, not moving his eyes from his task. He almost had it. Kroh fired a few shots. A loud shriek sounded from outside speeder. One down, Koll thought. Though, his friends stopped firing. Where’s the second?

“You got that hotwired yet, Koll?” Arnaut asked authoritatively. Koll realized he had stopped wiring.

“Almost sir,” Koll said. He connected two wires and the engine jumped to life. He took his hydrospanner out and welded the two wires together. “There.” His word was drowned out by a shriek from ahead in the hangar. Koll got up and saw another creature in the distance. He threw himself backward into the backseat. “Drive!” Koll shouted. “Sir!” he added after a second.

Arnaut didn’t need any coaxing. The only problem was the creature in the way. D-Crowe leaned out of the passenger side window. Koll followed suit. Kroh poked his arm out; his body didn’t fit out the window. The group opened fire as Arnaut pulled forward. The hangar door was already open. The beast was still standing and charging forward as the speeder approached it. The insect leapt into the air, mouth open. Crowe fired a barrage of shots at the creature’s head. Three found the creature’s open mouth, killing it and sending it flying backwards. Arnaut gunned it and passed underneath the falling beast. “Nice shot, soldier,” Arnaut said, complementing Crowe.

Good, Koll thought, he forgot about me. Speaking of forgetting… Koll’s eyes narrowed on Kroh. He balled a fist and slammed it into the massive man’s chest. “That’s for before, schutta.” Koll let out a huge sigh. They were on their way out of that mess.
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Ron-Goron
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  RE: Dead Men Tell No Lies (Wraith)
May 13, 2008 10:52:09 PM    View the profile of Ron-Goron 
Quote:“Yea sounds good, I call the couch.” RK grinned, was already starting to doze off. Leaving Ron who was still sitting at the table in front of the only window in the whole apartment, which even then gave limited view.

It was a quiet night, even for Corellia, which was normally all hustle and bustle.  Ron looked out the dingy, cracked window which served as his portal to the Lit Lane outside, and drifted off... his mind creating illusions that were not there.  It seemed like time itself had stopped. 

Ron was half in this daze, when the sudden snoring of RK snapped him back into the present time.  He peered over at RK, his lower body and torso on the couch, which his arms and chest dangled dangerously over the side.  Ron chuckled when he imagined RK rolling off the couch to the cold floor below, a rude awakening for any sleeper.

Sleep.  Ron couldn't sleep, not right now at least.  Something kept him awake, not an urgent or pressing feeling... but there was some feeling of anxiety.  He hoped that Koll and Darien found Arnaut alright.  They were good guys fellow troopers he met back at Basic Training... he knew he could rely on them.  But even with this reassurance, he still wasn't sure, something just didn't seem normal tonight.

Ron decided to busy himself on the datapad  He pulled out his briefcase that held it, and laid it out on the table.  He was glad that he decided to leave all his personal gear back in the apartment, including his guns, armor, and smokes.  Here he padded his bulging pants pocket that held four packs of the Lung-blasters. "Damn it's been too long." he sighed as he lit yet another smoke in his mouth. Ron powered up his datapad and pulled out the license to the "Timborlaaden."   After some quick typing and surfing, he accessed the Corellian online terminal for the docked ships.

"She's a pretty one." he remarked.  And she was.  Timborlaaden was a small smuggler's corvette, shaped round in the back and sides, and "w" shaped in the front.  She was equipped with heavy blaster turrets on both front V-shaped wings of the "w", had one large ion cannon mounted on the top, along with several smaller remote blasters underneith.  Her cargo could hold up to one third of its bulk mass ( a tremendous amount... although completely filling it would reduce its speed; to the point where long trips would be perillous)  And her charts were quite updated.  To finish her off, she had modern models for her hyperdrive and core units, with double circuit paths running through her shell in case of wire default.  "Oh yeah." Ron said in awe.  "Where the hell did Jak get his hands on this beauty?"  He honestly couldn't think of anyway that dumb old Jak could've gotten her.  But honestly... he really didn't care.

Ron was just getting into more sophisticated information, when suddenly Arnaut, Koll, Crowe, and a new stranger broke into the apartment.  The stranger was badly injured, and was bleeding in the leg.  Arnaut quickly said,

"Clear the table... we have to stop this bleeding before we do that..."  Ron quickly put all his gear away and helped to lift the stranger onto the table.  Arnaut ran into the kitchen and came out with some primitive first AID kit and immediately began to treat the wound.

"I wish they'd assign a Medic to this squad." Arnaut grumbled.

The man's wound was patched up, but the squad was by no means healed.  All four of the men suffered from some kind of wound, or mental anxiety.  Ron stirred RK into life, holding him back from falling off the couch, and giving the newly arrived room to sit.  Then Ron went in to fetch some beers and simple drinks to calm them down.  After a while of silence, RK ventured to ask:

"What was it?"

"I'm not sure." replied Arnaut.  "But I have a pretty good idea as to why we ran into them."

"Them?" RK asked.

"Yeah." Arnaut shuddered.  RK shrugged to Ron, but got no response.  Ron was busy looking viewing his datapad, in which the cam-log that was inserted in Kroh's helmet, was now servicing.

"Hey RK..." Ron said hesitantly as he looked into the entry... "You might want to have a look at this..."
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  RE: Dead Men Tell No Lies (Wraith)
May 14, 2008 7:15:07 PM    View the profile of RK 
RK whirled around to face Ron. “What?” He had already started walking towards Ron, who was holding the datapad in his hand, images scrolled across the screen at lightning fast motions, it was almost dizzying, luckily RK wasn't the one who had experienced it.

As he did spin the smell of blood filled his nostrils, it was intoxicating. He didn't even bother to put his hand up to his nose, by the time it was socked into his hand.

“This had better be good since I woke up.” He said glumly, finally able to see what was going on the screen.

“It is... look.” Ron pointed to the screen, his face was staring , almost in a trance at the scene being replayed before him.

by the... RK almost jumped. The image before him was more frightening than he had even imagined. What looked like dozens of insect like creatures, they were green and blue. Their eyes were red; blood red. The claws were like razors , the light made them shine. Blood was running out of their mouths. Even with the stuff RK had seen ,this topped the list of most horrible. “What... the hell?”

“that's what I thought.” Ron froze the screen as one of the monsters jumped towards it. Even stopped it seemed like it would tear you apart without a second thought.

Koll looked over at the two standing staring at the screen. “N..nasty creatures.” Koll was still shaking from the shock. It was like seeing a kid, but he knew they had survived because they had the courage. would I had had that courage, or would have I broken down? It was things like these that made his sacrifices seem like mere incidents.

“There we go.” Arnaut ripped the final piece of medical tape off and placed it on Crowe's bandage.

“Those things look like the came out of a Holocron, or maybe a mutant version of a wookiee.” RK just grinned. “Please tell me, that we won't see any of those again.”

“Wish I could, but I don't know that... it's a possibility, chances are great.” Krohl had stopped shaking long ago, but you could sense the fear in his voice.

“Great...” Ron replied, his voice almost sarcastic.

RK winced at the thought, then stared back at the couch. “Well if that's the case.” RK grabbed a E-11 off the table and headed back for the couch. “Protected Sleep is safe sleep.”
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  RE: Dead Men Tell No Lies (Wraith)
May 15, 2008 5:00:05 PM    View the profile of D-Crowe 
RK winced at the thought, then stared back at the couch. “Well if that's the case.” RK grabbed a E-11 off the table and headed back for the couch. “Protected Sleep is safe sleep.”he probably saw those insects we fought earlier can't say I blame him. Darien thought as he sat the two blaster pistols he lifted from passer-by on the table and opened a can of beer. "What were those things, Koll?" Darien asked.I've never seen them on Corellia before he thought as he downed half of the beer.

"I have no idea what they were", said Koll as he took a swig of beer, "I don't want to ever have the luxury of finding out either." Same here Darien thought as he finished his beer. "Aw why not?" he asked Koll.

Koll looks at him disgustedly "you know why!" he exclaimed "do you?" he asked Darien. hell no Darien thought. Darien said, "Of course they would make great pets."

"Sorry to interupt your conversation but we have some business to discuss" said Arnaut as he walked over. "like what?" asked Darien. "Like where we are gonna go from here. "I still have some contacts in the city if you would like me to inquire with them." said Darien "well do that", said Arnaut "and Koll you go with him." "Hey Ron, do you know if the thieves faction here still active?" Darien asked.

"Sorry I don't know" said Ron as he and RK continued to look at the cam-log. "It doesn't matter I'll find out soon" Darien said as he prepared to leave. "Come on Koll let's go" Darien said.

As they were leaving the apartment they ran right into an old friend of Darien's named Varik. "What are you doing back on Corellia Darien?" Varik asked. "None of your business" said Darien, "but could you trake me to Bernard?" "YOu know he doesn't want to see you after what happened." said Varik, "but I will take the two of you to him if you want."

good old Varik still comes through for me Darien thought at Varik led them to the alley where Bernard was camped. "Long time no see Bernard" said Darien as he walked up to him. "How have you been?"
"I've been fine Darien what do you want?" Bernard snapped. "Just some information on a man named Albatross." said Darien. "I know nothing of Albatross save for his name" said Bernard. "Sorry to have bothered you then" Darien said as he and Koll turned to leave Bernard said, "fine fine I'll tell you what I know, just promise to get outta here and never come back." So Bernard told him about his friend on Ord Mantell, Kymeri who could tel them more.
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Jennabelle
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  RE: Dead Men Tell No Lies (Wraith)
May 17, 2008 9:18:26 AM    View the profile of Jennabelle 
Jenny examined the bruises and scratches on her arms, back and chest as she changed in a nearby empty into a battle suit that she had designed back in her days of chasing her parents’ assassins, a dark one with the words of Blankuna passing wisdom of the legendary hero Bandu of Bondunna inscribed on the back, in which on the front were her trusty knives and a sheave for her Ch’sei blade, which she sheaved and took the VIP entrance card out of her bag in her left hand, stepping on the steps of the Wraiths’ temporary base.

    She passed three people, all of them unrecognizable and in conversation, although two of them seemed to be in the squad by the one in front inquiring about Albatross, and the other following, while the third guy seemed hesitant, as Jenny passed them and went inside her temporary base, with the VIP card put lightly in her battle suit pocket on her chest. She saw RK and Ron, who was a recruit sent here to check out Albatross’ dealings here, wrapped in watching a cam-log, showing the ripping and blood by a strange creature that she had never seen before except maybe some form of a Ree or something, all green and fast and scary-looking, though Jenny had faced worse, like a rankor, but at least that thing was like thirty feet tall and really slow, this creature was very fast, and can slice meat within the blink of an eye. She greeted them both, which led Arnaut to look up from his treating of injuries of a man lying there, whom gestured in awe at the twilek, though Jenny just took it in amusement as she wondered: He probably hasn’t seen a twilek in his own lifetime, with those wounds on his leg. Arnaut started explaining while turning his attention to the cam-log:

    “Jenny, you’ll probably need to be filled in. this is Kroh, the escort that got me into that building you’ll see on the cam-log for info on Albatross.” Jenny turned to the cam-log to see a beautiful and luxurious building, which she admired for its taste, though it is lacking something that she would have found in her parent’s house. Arnaut examined her taste in it and continued:

    “It’s not the best mansion, but now it’s infested with those creatures that you saw on the inside cam-logs, we believe they’ve been sent by Albatross to cover up his tracks, and our escort here got himself tangled up in it, so to speak. Luckily Ron’s two other partners, D-Crowe and Koll arrived to help us, and that’s how we got here. RK’s lead didn’t go so bad though, they found a license to a ship called the Timborlaaden, a beautiful, classy smuggler's corvette. And what about you, Jenny, what have you been doing?”

    “Getting inside my inner woman in a lesbian club, not pleasant for me but it’s the only way inside Albatross’ women. And I’ve come up with a jackpot, here look at this club, the Azalus, it means danger in Twi’leki, and I don’t think its good danger, I’ll have to go inside that club, alone too. Filmub’ra has reminded me that his agents might be watching, and she only said to let me come, no sidekicks.” Jenny reply plainly as she heard Arnaut ask who is Filmub’ra before getting the shock right in front of his eyes.

    Filmub’ra was no longer dressed in slave disguise but her true self, a beautiful, glamorous and seductive girl to man or women, something which she must have picked up in Dathomir. She wore navy blue jeans and blouse of her own lesbian band, with a shoulder pack on her right shoulder like Jenny as she shocked both Ron and RK to their knees, with her charming looks and sweet voice, which Jenny loved only in her sister but not Filmub’ra. Filmub’ra shook hands with them, which to Ron and RK felt like shaking hands with a celebrity as they stood there frozen like a statue. Jenny chuckled at them as she saw Arnaut shook happily with Filmub’ra, him introducing himself, and her announcing, thanking the gesture by shaking firmly with both delicate hands:

    “I am Filmub’ra, I come from Dathomir, where Jenny met me and had a sort of what you call ‘a relationship’ with me.” She looked at her datapad’s time and continued: “If you’ll excuse me, Mr. Arnaut, Jenny and I have an appointment with the mistress, it mustn’t be delayed, we’ll be back with news, come along, Jenny.”

    I sure hope Arnaut will manage without me. Jenny hoped in her mind as she followed Filmub’ra and her escorts outside into her stylish speeder, painted pink with the letters Eswo All on it. Jenny chuckled at the name and got an odd look from Filmub’ra which she pointed the letters and she gave a oh sign with her mouth and only commented:

    “It’s for all my beloved, including you, Jenny.” Filmub’ra kissed Jenny’s blue hand as she held it in her delicate pink hand like a gentlemen and they rode off into the night sky, Jenny thinking, this is going to be an interesting night.

OOC:
Blankuna is one of the many Twi'leki clans native to Ryloth, the clan's name means "philosophical". Bonduna is also a Twi'leki clan native to Ryloth, and the clan's name refers to the descendents of the legendary hero Bondu. Ree is a name given to Twi'lek men, it means Spear.  Eswo means beloved in Twi'leki.
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joamer
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  RE: Dead Men Tell No Lies (Wraith)
May 23, 2008 4:11:10 PM    View the profile of joamer 
It was raining, it was dark, and the temperature was beginning to drop.

 
  The Commando did not really notice any of this. He was fixated on the small starport the squad used to land and leave Tadath, and now it was being patrolled by Imperial Security Force personnal. His thought, as he kneeled in a patch of darkness in his stealth black kataran clone commando armor, it has been two days since he had heard the order to arrest all Wraith Squad personnal. Now, he was trying to get off planet, and find a way out of this mess. He could of given himself up, but in all likely hood he would of been killed in jail long before his squad got back with proof of their innocence.

  No, he thought, I am a Wraith, and they might need me. It's time to put that expensive training to the test.


    At this point his options were simple, get a ship, and get off planet. He would then worry about how he would contact the squad. Watching the patrolling men he was attempting to find a hole he could slip through and into one of his ships, but they would randomly change directions, so it was all luck. Slipping closer he saw a new ship he had ordered, a 03-K64 Firefly-class mid-bulk transport. It was the closest to him, so it would do. Moving slowly he made his way out from behind cover and into the night, he was waiting for one shot, just one to get into the open hatch of the ship.

  He stopped moving as a pair of men came up less then thirty yards from his current position. The lights they carried cut into the darkness, but with the rain he was still hidden, just a darker shadow in the mist.

  They moved off after a few moments, and he had his chance, he ran, silently and nearly collided with the inner bulkhead of his ship. Slapping the doorlock panel he began making his way to the cockpit he slid into the seat and engaged the engines for a cold start. Flipping various switches a soft thrum sounded around the ship as the twin external thrusters came to life and began providing the much needed lift for his shot at freedom.


  Alarms began sounding into the night as the patrolling men swung their lights at the ship as it began to take off, his comlink buzzed "You are ordered to land that ship and prepare for arrest, this is a direct order from high command."

  "Sorry," he muttered, "my squad needs me." His comlink was still engaged on receive only mode, so they heard nothing but the engines being engaged as he shot into the atmosphere and towards space.

  As the starfield went from blue to black he heard the order to launch the fighters to apprehend the fugitive. Flipping the switches for the nav-computer he waited for the green light and pulled back on the hyperdrive levers, the starfield expanded into hundreds of lines as the small transport shot into the unknown.
Corporal Joamer Reistlin

~WildcardPlatoo n ~
"Shuffle up the Wildcards, and deal them."

*HeavyWeapons *
I am what Death fears.


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"What do you hear?" "Nothing but the rain." "Grab your gun and bring in the cat."
Ron-Goron
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  RE: Dead Men Tell No Lies (Wraith)
May 24, 2008 2:56:52 PM    View the profile of Ron-Goron 
"You know you're the only one who can do it." said Arnaut. "You have the access codes, you have the hook-ups, and more importantly, you're the only one who knows how to do it."

Ron turned his head to one side. It was a lot to ask for. In order to send interplanetary messaging he had to break into the government server, and there was only two terminals available that were powerful enough. The first was located in the capital plaza, guarded by three-hundred and fifty Corellian troopers, heavily armed. Breaking into there would be suicide. The only other terminal was in an underground cantina, in what was potentially one of the most dangerous smuggler's hideout in the galaxy; the Corellian Caves.

The Caves were giant sewers which were laid down to support future cities. However, Corellia ended up building upwards, in the atmosphere, leaving a great deal of the planet's surface as natural as possible. Deep underneath all these beautiful forests and lakes was a bustling underground gangster's paradise. Ironically, it was a deathly paradise as well.

"I'll need some weapons, and some money." Ron said finally. "If I'm going down to the Caves I'm going to need something to bribe them with."

"I'm afraid we are out of weapons, you'll have to do with your E-11 and personal blaster pistols." Arnaut replied. "And as for the money..." Arnaut turned to Kroh. "Do you still have that credits chip I gave you?"

Kroh groaned as he dug in one of his numerous coat-pockets. He finally pulled out a small blood-stained chip. "I hope it still works."

Arnaut handed it to Ron. "Don't go spending it all, that's the only funds we have."

"Will do." Ron replied simply. It wasn't long before he was completely ready. With civilian clothes, and briefcase in hand, Ron headed out of the Lit Lane hideout.

"Alright then." Ron mused. "Let's see if the Timborlaaden is really all that Jaklak promised it would be." He headed towards the ship bay, walking at a brisk pace and hoping that he would make it in time. As long as he had the access codes, the ship would be his.

Ron reached the ship bay about an hour after he left the Lit Lane. He reached the dock manager and requested to leave the bay on his ship.

"Timborlaaden, eh?" the manager said. "And you says yous the owner? I thought I remember the owner bein a blue feller, a rodian type..."

"He is." Ron replied. "However, he happens to own several ships, one of them being the Timborlaaden, which I happen to pilot."

"You're the pilot?" the manager said. "I'm going to need to see some ID then, and I suppose you can leave."

Ron was glad that he reconstructed the ID card, and replaced Jaklak's picture and information with his own. It took no longer than two minutes to get passed the manager and onto the ship.

"Alright baby." Ron said to the ship. "Let's see what you can do." Ron pulled out the auto-pilot program he had designed earlier that day... he hoped it was written well enough.Timborlaaden took off, into the air, with no pilot to speak of... and one very anxious passenger.

Timborlaaden stayed close to the surface,  past huge buildings, driving over busy streets, and passing under tall bridges. Soon they went into the real Corellia, uninhabited wild lands.

It wasn't long before Ron saw the landmark that he was headed for, a giant waterfall. It was wider than a large frigate, and taller than three times that. Possibly one of the greatest natural waterfall's in the sector... it received little tourist interest... due to Corellian law (probably by way of the smugglers). Ron flinched when the cargo ship broke through the water. It led to the inside of the mountain, which was near hollow inside, with a tunnel leading downwards to the core of the planet. Ron was kept on edge while the ship steered on its own through the constricted tunnel, flinching every time it hit the sides, and cursing the poor construction of the tunnel. Needless to say, he was relieved when the natural tunnel lead to the abandoned sewers.

It didn't look like sewers at all. Instead, it was as bright as the Lit Lane, and as magnificent as Coronet city. From the floor to the roof were tall cantinas and bars, shops, ships, and tons of people.

Timborlaaden set down slowly, kicking up dust as she landed peaceably in one of the larger hanger sectors. An old, hobbling zabrak limped into the vicinity, towards the ship as it landed. Ron walked out, stuffing his twin blaster pistols into their holsters.

"If you do not have a smuggler's pass." croaked the zabrak. "Then you must leave at once, or pay the toll."

"How much is the toll?" said Ron.

"Your ship." came his toothless grin.

"That will be unnecessary." Ron said hastily. "I have well over 20,000 credits that will sit well in your pocket."

"A poor bargain." sneered the zabrak. He cackled and hobbled over to the ship to inspect his "new won toll" when he saw the name Timborlaaden on its side. "Jaklak." he whispered.

"Pardon me?" Ron said.

"You killed Jaklak?" questioned the zabrak. "Cause if you did..."

"Well I..." stuttered Ron.

"Then you have done us a great service!" laughed the old toller. "Believe me, the only way that you could of gotten this ship was if you killed him, which you of all people should know because here you are!" he began to skip around and laugh, which caused Ron to inch towards the exit.

"No, no but really." the zabrak laughed. "You may only stay here for the day, any longer and I will have to take the ship. Hahaha! At last he is dead, dead, dead! Jaklak is dead!"

"Wow." Ron thought to himself. "I hope Jaklak doesn't plan on returning to the Caves anytime today."

Ron made his way through the mixed crowd of pilots and smugglers until he reached the largest cantina of them all, which was located in the middle of the city. "Zidca's Cantina" read the main sign. Ron passed through the door, and hoped the hutt Zidca was in a good mood.

Zidca the Hutt was one of the better Hutts in control of massive underground smuggling facilities. He wasn't as large as most... which made him more vulnerable to manipulation... something he learned to dodge due to his smarts and cunning. Due to his nature to be more cunning than forceful, Zidca had grown to be more empathetic towards individuals like himself; which is why Ron thought he would help him.

Ron was admitted into Zidca's main room, where he was instantly greeted by the jovial hutt. "Well now." he grunted in huttese. "Little Ron has come back to see us. We can't help but wonder what trouble he has gotten himself into now. Got another tatoo to show us?"

Ron grinned politely at Zidca's joke. The tatoo on the back of his neck had marked him out as one of the more "colorful" characters that Zidca had met in his long lifetime.

"Not today Zidca. I actually came to ask a favor of you."

"Ron knows we can't do business without payment. Once soft, always soft."

"Yes, yes I know." he pulled out the credits chip. "How does 100,000 credits sound to you?"

"Pennies from a beggar." snorted Zidca. "You are a poor bargainer." he lauged. "You offer everything you have before you even tell me what favor you have to ask for."

Ron flinched as he realized the truth of Zidca's statement. "Well perhaps the price will seem adequate. I need access to Corellia's main terminal, specifically the communications terminal."

"That's it?" said Zidca. "Ron makes big deal out of small things. Only problem is the security... which I know you can handle."

"All I needed was permission." Ron said.

"You're a good kid." Zidca said. "Careful though, everyone tries to screw over good kids like you."

"That's why I try to keep good contacts." Ron grinned.

Zidca nodded. "Give me fifty thousand, and you can use the terminal."

"Done." Ron handed the chip to Zidca who gave it to one of his own officials. "Take out the payment then return it to his ship." he said. He turned back to bid Ron goodbye, but he had already left.

Ron entered the computer room and showed the Communication's Technician his pass. Ron sat at the terminal and put on his headphones as he thought to himself. "I sure hope this works."

"223: ALL WRAITH, THIS MESSAGE IS FOR ALL FORMER AND CURRENT WRAITH TROOPERS IN THE IMPERIAL ARMY, WE ARE CALLING FOR YOUR ASSISTANCE. UPON THE PLANET CORELLIA WE ARE UNDER DIRE NEED OF ASSISTANCE IN THE TRACKING DOWN OF ENEMY NUMBER ONE. THIS MESSAGE IS BEING STREAMED OVER VARIOUS CHANNELS, SO IT WILL NOT BE REPEATED MORE THAN ONCE. CALLING ALL WRAITH, CALLING ALL FORMER AND CURRENT WRAITH TROOPERS TO CORELLIA!"
Ron-Goron:.Private First Class
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View Ron's Wiki at: http://www.vastempire.com/wiki/index.php?title=Ron-Goron

"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I can not shoot, the courage to shoot the things I can, and the wisdom to hide the bodies."- Anonymous
[This message has been edited by Ron (edited May 24, 2008 2:58:56 PM)]
[This message has been edited by Ron (edited May 25, 2008 9:01:40 AM)]
joamer
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  RE: Dead Men Tell No Lies (Wraith)
May 24, 2008 10:23:34 PM    View the profile of joamer 
The asteroid was getting way to close.


      Joamer had been strapped to his seat for the past six hours, floating with minimal power outside what the computers called Er'Kit, in the Gircho Sector. He really did not know how the flyboys did it, day after day, only six hours in and he was ready to scream. Waiting for a signal he was blindly hoping would actually come was beginning to test his patience. He had a very old Wraith decoder running in hopes it would pick up the coded signal on the holonet. Now, he was in danger of being blown to small pieces by a vary large asteroid that looked like it wanted a piece of the old transport ship.

  A few hours earlier he had picked up communications from a nearby Imperial Star Destroyer, he got only fragments but they were hunting for the squad, the list of charges against him had begun growing. He was now in league with the destruction of the planet, and more then one hundred million deaths, and he had not even been there. To add to it, it now says he had kidnapped a governmental official and stolen a top-secret spacecraft when he made his escape. Luckily the ship passed him well out of range of the sensors, he doubted he could of outran one of those babies.

  "I never knew a forty year old frigate, commanded by a Imperial Officer was considered top-secret, let alone that I actually stole it, since they came to get me halfway through our bloody mission!" Joamer literally screamed in pure annoyance. He still could not figure the governmental official.

  "That mission was bad from the start, and it only got worse as it went down hill. We did not get a single moment to collect any of our gear, we got thrown in a ship and herded to one of the worst places in the galaxy, now I am being framed, we all were, and it makes me sick." he said to himself sometime later. The death of Derrond squad still made him angry, it had been over a month since he had seen his friends. All he could do was wait, and wait is what he did.


  Hours later, or days, he was not really sure anymore his comms board began blinking, the old decoder began buzzing and his heart had begun pumping a bit quicker.

  "223: ALL WRAITH, THIS MESSAGE IS FOR ALL FORMER AND CURRENT WRAITH TROOPERS IN THE IMPERIAL ARMY, WE ARE CALLING FOR YOUR ASSISTANCE. UPON THE PLANET CORELLIA WE ARE UNDER DIRE NEED OF ASSISTANCE IN THE TRACKING DOWN OF ENEMY NUMBER ONE. THIS MESSAGE IS BEING STREAMED OVER VARIOUS CHANNELS, SO IT WILL NOT BE REPEATED MORE THAN ONCE. CALLING ALL WRAITH, CALLING ALL FORMER AND CURRENT WRAITH TROOPERS TO CORELLIA!"

  Hitting the power board, he brought the maindrive back online and powered the engines again, this time doing a slower start than last time for the old girl. Hitting the navcom he turned the ship around and headed out of the system, trying to look just like another bit of floating debris. Though he seriously doubt anything that backwater planet had would even pick him up. Getting the green light on the board, he pulled the levers back and the ship streamed into hyperspace.

  Unlocking his harness he set auto-pilot and made his way to the cargo hold. Stripping out of his Commando armor he stowed it in a secret storage chamber just aft of the stairs, he also pulled out a bundle of clothes and got dressed. Black shirt, brown pants, a decent pair of work boots, and a long coat with sleeves, he also pulled out a pair of gloves and pulled them over his cybernetic hands that were still visible. Unhooking the sniper attachment of his DC-15 he slid the smaller barrel on it, then locked it on the harness on his back. Grabbing a few extra power cells for his pistol he slipped them into his pouch, and grabbed a single credchip.

  "Fifty thousand only," He muttered "Though I'm glad I have that."

  Shutting the cargo hatch he made his way back towards the bridge, the long coat hiding every detail that was once Joamer Resitlin, Commando of the Empire. Now he was just a simple transport captain, looking for new passengers, on one of the worst planets in the known galaxy.

  Mumbling something about scum and villainy he sat down in the seat and watched the stars stream by, the fun was just about to begin.
Corporal Joamer Reistlin

~WildcardPlatoo n ~
"Shuffle up the Wildcards, and deal them."

*HeavyWeapons *
I am what Death fears.


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TRP/CPL Joamer/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/Tadath/VEA/ [LoR] [ES1] [EW1]

"What do you hear?" "Nothing but the rain." "Grab your gun and bring in the cat."
Jennabelle
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Jennabelle
 
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  RE: Dead Men Tell No Lies (Wraith)
May 25, 2008 1:57:52 AM    View the profile of Jennabelle 
“Interesting that you disguised yourself to test me, it’s almost something I would expect from your family, to cross-examine the strong of the family in tests of skills, you continuing their tradition.” Jenny remarked on her embankment of Filmub’ra’s lair of girls while sipping a glass of health drink that Filmub’ra made herself back in Dathomir.

“Sweet like honey and tasty, isn’t it? It’s good for the body and the reason why I’m always so thin, well not that thin, of course.” Filmub’ra small-talked as Jenny and she finished their drink, turning to serious business as their speeder passed another street, driven by Filmub’ra’s escort.

“The ceremonial blade was given to me by my father’s trusted Rodian bodyguard to avenge him for his and my father’s death, which were both done by my double in that club. You tasted the hot fires within it, that’s hers; he and my father were both killed like your parents, Jenny, like Melia and Mia’s parents, Corin and Melke’s parents, all of them. Our families had strong influence in the Senate in giving change to the people, at the direst times, when all of the Empire was focused on destroying the Republic and not taking care of their own people. They were killed because of their thoughts for change, killed by those who despise the Empire because Senator Cornek had to take the seat of Emperor at no matter what cost. Such a stupid man that got himself killed by the ones he feared the most when he thought they were at their weakest.

“Jenny, when we get inside the club, the VIP pass is for to see Ella. Do not get the urge to kill her; we still need her to find out where Albatross is. He’s killed many innocent people on Serrel and much more. He’s the leader of the Black Commandos and Ella’s his right handed women, head of “Hired Guns,” the backbone of the Black Commandos, the commandos of the Commandos, if you know what I mean, and I’m her right hand women. Once we’re done, we should have the evidence to clear your squad’s names.” Jenny heard Filmub’ra’s explanations and instructions, the explanation much of which Jenny already knew, except for the part about the ceremonial blade. I never heard Filmub’ra reveal her personal secrets, even in front of her dearest of dearests. Even for a Bondara, she was quite secretive sometimes…. Jenny wondered off in thoughts as she stared at Filmub’ra, slowly and not realizing they were already locked in a kiss, which was quickly broken by the speeder stopping, and the opening of doors, in which one of the escorts told them, the other holding the door open.

“Mistress, we have arrived at the Daesha’s club, the Azalus, please let’s be quick, she is waiting.”

Jenny stepped out with Filmub’ra hand in hand into a grand club with spectacular music and all sorts of female from all over the galaxy, staring at beautiful women showing their bodies off, bars on the either side of them and private rooms in the back. Jenny thought this might be a mini version of Dathomir as she tried not to peek in the private rooms as they passed them and stepped upstairs with Filmub’ra’s escorts escorting them upstairs to the VIP room. It was a warm-hearted bedroom mixed with a bathtub as a strong smell of loving was felt all around the room, even the lamps were shaped like a heart, and slow lovely music vibrations flow around the room like the tub's waters. They were led to the bathtub, with a great view of Corellia outside the window nearby, there relaxed in the bathtub, their bodies entwined and in kisses, Ella and, to Jenny’s surprise, Mia.

“What the hell, Mia, what are you doing? I thought you were going to avenge Melia. Mia!” Jenny shouted angrily to even her own surprise, she didn’t want to lose her cool now but it didn’t seem right for Mia to be there with that disgusting bitch, although Filmub’ra was still trying to hold her against wanting to split Ella to pieces. Ella licked her lips as she pushed Mia aside, who looked like she was injected with poison or something, for her eyes were all black as she stared at Jenny blankly. Ella laughed at Jenny’s angry face and said frankly, taking a swig of flameout on the table beside the bathtub:

“Well, Jenny-Ani you seem to have stepped right into the Lion’s den, quite the headquarters, wouldn’t you say? Our young Chi’kan has certainly mixed well into it, she was taken at my request from the terrible prison that once kept you, she has been shaken and once the poison took affect, it was easy to get her to my sides to tell me all about Leia’s little league, the Pacific Order, trying to continue what her father never finished, poor girl…” Ella chuckled wickedly like a witch before Jenny shook off Filmub’ra’s grasp against her and jumped into the tub, before getting pulled back by Mia and grasped in her strong arms, unable to get any closer to Ella.

    “You piece of---, give me the antidote, she doesn’t deserve this, she has done nothing wrong to you.” Jenny rebuted angrily as an incoming video transmission from the screen beeped above the bathtub that turned the struggling Jenny and Ella’s attention to it, as Jenny watched as Ella turned on the screen with a remote on the table to receive the transmission.

“Daesha, this is Albatross, can you hear me? I can’t talk too much with the Empire after me, but I need you to get the shipment, KS 527, to me on that ship, the Chir'daki IV, and make sure those techinicans take care of it well and handles it with care, that thing is very important in the next step of our plan. Oh, and if you find the killer of Senator Cornek, bring her to me on that ship. I should love to see her pretty face.” Albatross stated as he smiled devilishly and the screen turned off.

“Mia, Filmub’ra, take the girl to the Chir’daki IV, take her to the designated cabin, and watch her closely.” Ella ordered the two girls as Jenny heard just as they were about to leave the room, Ella reminding Mia: “Oh and Mia, get some clothes on first, you’ll attract too much girls out there.”

After Mia was dressed in a red blouse and blue navy jeans, they head off out of the club, which attracted the many eyes of the girls inside, although Jenny wasn’t sure if they were fascinated or suspicious eyes. Jenny carefully spoke into the small comlink stashed in her red Aola that she had worn in front of her, pretending to smell at its great taste, its red light blinking back at her, disguised in the red of the Aola:

“Everything went well; they took the bait and have got me aboard. I’m going to see Albatross, good luck on your end, Arnaut, Jenny out.” Jenny blinked her eye at Filmub’ra as she blinked back in understanding. Arni'soyacho, Ella. Now to find out what the heck this shipment is. Jenny thanked Ella in thought as she was led into Filmub’ra’s speeder and driven off in the late night.

OOC:
The Bondara is also a clan native to the planet Ryloth, the clan's name means carefree or easy.
The Deasha is a common name given to twi'lek females, it means females ruler or queen, it's given to Ella for her twilek sympathizers to show their respect.
Ani is also a clan native to the planet Ryloth, the name means desired, but Ella doesn't know its a clan, she just knows it means desired.
Chi'kan is a term used to describe someone who is corrupted or astray, particularly sexually, a pervert, it's commonly used as an insult.
The Chir'daki is a term translated into Basic as "deathseed." These small spores come from a parasitic fungus, and they invade a victim and destroy it from within. A starfighter design was created by the Twi'leki race, and was named after the spore and are just as lethal as the spore they are named for. Hyperdrive-equipped and powered by twin ion engines at sublight speeds, the Chir'daki have maneuverable wings powered by small S-foils. They are armed with quad laser cannons, but proton torpedoes were optional because of their shortage during the early years of the New Republic. This Chir'daki the fourth is Filmub'ra's, just to give you a heads up.
Aloa means flower in Twi'leki.
Arni'soyacho is an expression of extreme gratitude, it means thank you very much.
One last thing, and this is important. if Arnaut is reading this or Kand is, Arnaut must know that he has fitted me with a comlink that listened in on the whole conversation with Ella and the transmission with Albatross, so that'll clear up the confusion at the near end of the post. I forgot to state that on my last post, apologies.
Any more questions about the post can be refered to me by PM.
-=Wraith PRIDE=- 

*HeavyWeapons *

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TRP/LCPL Jennabelle/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/VEA/VE/Tadath

"Don't be too proud of this technological terror you've constructed. The ability to destroy a planet is insignificant next to the power of the Force. " -Darth Vader

"Remember, Remember, the fifth of November" -V

"So do all who seeks to live, but that is not for them to decide. All you have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to you." -Gandalf the Grey
[This message has been edited by Jennabelle (edited May 25, 2008 1:58:52 AM)]
RK
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  RE: Dead Men Tell No Lies (Wraith)
May 25, 2008 4:23:47 PM    View the profile of RK 
“....ke... u.p RK! W..ke UP!” RK could barely move, his eyes flicked open and then shut again. His body told him to stay asleep, but something else was waking him up, making it hard to even attempt stay asleep.

“Wha..what?” He struggled to again consciousness.

“Get up, you have to meet 'someone' at the spaceport, very soon.” Arnaut was standing above him, a cup of water in hand.

“As long as you promise not to pour that on me.”

“Fine, just get up and get going.”

RK slowly swung his legs over the side of the couch. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, hoping they would adjust faster, only they didn't.

As he stood up the blood rushed to his brain, making him almost stumble as he tried to take a step forward.

When he finally made it to the door, his eyes had fully focused. Hopefully he would be able to drive.

-_-_-_-_-Spaceport

RK brought the speeder down on the spaceport. It was a rough landing, after all he was still drowsy, even driving over here was a hassle, twice he almost wrecked.

He pulled himself out of the small cockpit and onto the platform. Sounds filled his ears; engines, metal hitting metal, and other sounds you would figure from a spaceport. Now I need a place to wait. He didn't know who he was supposed to meet here, but he knew it was a wraith.

RK went and sat down on a crate, it looked like it was put there to be a make-shift seat, after all it was faded from the sun and stained with food. as long as I don't have to wait to long.

It started to feel like hours sine he had landed, twice he had to slap himself to stay awake. A cou-ple of workers had even asked if he was drunk. Yea, I'm drunk, I'm a fugitive, and I'm drunk. It wasn't original of course.

AS he continued to wait, a few guards got into a hassle with each other, fighting over something about parking rights, or a shipment. Whatever it was, it was going to get nasty. Luckily, RK didn't have to worry about it, it wasn't his duty to split them up. He was tempted though to go and just split them up to keep himself busy. I hope whoever I'm waiting for hurries up, all I know is he's a chrome dome.

-_-_-_- 15 minutes later, standard-galactic-time

RK was starting to doze off again, his eyes were glazed over, and he could hear himself starting to snore. He continued to snooze off, his mind slipping off into sleep. Until he was abruptly woke up by the loud roar of engines, that sounded like they were right above him. 

He looked up to see a shadow start to cast over his position, and the outline of a Firefly-class mid bulk freighter. It was scary how close it was, but whoever was driving it knew what he/she was doing.

It continued to pass overhead and head for the only free space it would be able to set down at. RK had a feeling whoever he was supposed to be waiting for was driving it. He waited for the ship to fully touch down before he made his way over, even if he was wrong on who was driving it; it wasn't going to hurt to check.

RK started his way over. He hadn't expected to see something this big. whatever works. As he got closer, he saw the entrance ramp start to open with a slight hiss. As it continued to open a man stood in the door way. Hid bald hair was clearly visible, as well as the gloves that concealed his hands. that's him alright.
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