OOC:

Ok guys. Figured it was time for a new story since the EPC is shut down. Its going to be something many of you have never done before. This time, the story is going to be totally up to you. I'm just asking that you don't take it too far out of hand and that you keep it over 400 words. Without further ado, let me present to you Nazgul's new "unofficial" story.

Hunter was standing in front of the expansive viewport on the bridge of his CR-40 Consular Cruiser, staring out into the stars, when he sensed the approach of someone. Turning his head, he saw one of the comm techs jogging over to him.

“Sir, we have just received an incoming transmission. Its urgent. I suggest you take it immediately.”

“Ok. I'll take it here.”

Striding over to where the holo projector was, Hunter clasped his hands behind his back as he waited for the holo to come through. A few moments later and a fuzzy image appeared before him that quickly solidified into Denethor, the Naval Executive Officer. Snapping off a salute, Hunter lowered his hand as Denethor returned it.

“Sir.” Hunter said, giving a curt nod, “You need me for something?”

“You could say that, yes. We have a new mission for Nazgul Squadron. Atrasin is unreachable at the moment so we turn to you. It isn't so much a mission as a vacation. We have received evidence of some recent civil unrest on the planet Xenzi. Its a small planet on the outskirts of Vast Empire territory. It isn't under our control just yet, but we're hoping that if Nazgul can find the source of this civil unrest and quell it, it may open up negotiations between us and allow us to station a garrison on that planet.  Like I said, this isn't a real mission so you can treat it as a vacation of sorts. Nothing too serious, but it has a potential to be very valuable. So try your best not to screw this one up.”

“So how are we supposed to get there?”

“You and the rest of Nazgul are to hitch a ride on VSD Relentless which is to be heading towards that area on a mission. Head back to Abrae ASAP and meet up with Nazgul. Be on board the Relentless by 2200 hours  tomorrow. Good luck. Oh, and one more thing. You've been promoted to Master Chief Petty Officer. Congratulations.” Denethor finished up with a nod, his image dissolving as the holocam feed was cut.

All Hunter could do was grin as the news of his promotion sunk in. He was a Master Chief Petty Officer, and was now one of the highest ranked non-commissioned officer, which was quite an accomplishment. Shaking his head in silent joy, he turned to the bridge officers who were all staring at him.

Grinning, he said, “Well, you heard the man. Time to head back to the Abrae. As soon as we arrive and disembark the ship, you all may have shore leave. For as long as you want. Consider it my gift to you.”

His spirits at an all time high, he turned and walked off the bridge, whistling a tune with a spring in his step.

OOC:

WC: 480. Alright guys. This is now totally up to you. I may jump in from time to time, but its mainly in your hands. You can move the story along whenever you want. I expect some communication so that you don't mess up someone else's post with your own. Now, post you slackers, POST!!!

Exercise does a fellow good. Good way to relax, too. Drac thought to himself as he kept up a fast jog on the running machine. Sure, it would have been easy to take a nice, long swim instead. That wouldn't change his open-air stamina any though. For that, he needed to run in real conditions. Everything was different above the water's surface...weight, balance, muscle groups used, everything. It was all good, though. Running like this actually made for a nice change, albeit with the added discomfort of beathing in the dry shipboard air at an increased rate. That was sufferable, and he'd long ago gotten used to it.

Ten minutes into his jog, Drac felt a buzzing on his hip. Setting the machine to stop, he pulled his datapad from the pouch he kept it on. A mission profile came up. Taking a quick glance around to ensure he was still alone in the workout room, Drac entered his access code. It was just text, rather than holo, but getting a message from the Naval XO was still a shocker. It read:

Recipient: Petty Officer 1st Class Dracule Mihawk
Sender: Captain Denethor
Re: Mission NS-00124

Content: Petty Officer, you are to report to Master Chief Petty officer Hunter-Morrell onboard the Relentless before 2200 hours tomorrow. Nazgul has a new mission of sorts. Gather your flight and pack for a vacation. You will be on Leave for this operation. Your XO will brief you further upon your arrival.

Also, congratulations on your promotion to Chief Petty Officer.

-Captain Denethor
Naval Executive Officer

A vacation, huh? I'll believe that about as much as I believe this datapad can shoot down my Avenger. We never get an easy job...well, there's always a possibility. I'll try to treat this like a normal vacation, except with weapons. A lot of weapons. Shaking his head, he turned the machine back on. As he began jogging again he muttered, “Well, if I die at least I’ll die a rank higher. That’s comforting…yeah, and Quarren adore us.”

Two hours later Drac was running a final check on his equipment. Knowing that Hunter was out of the system for a while, he’d finished the last five minutes of his exercise routine before heading for his quarters. A cool shower to refresh his body and a short meal later, he began to pack. Most of the clothes he chose were civilian, but two uniforms disappeared into a duffel as well. One was a standard flightsuit, still showing his old rank insignia. The other was a dress uniform featuring the same emblem. Ah well. I can get that changed afterward.

The weapons the Mon Calamari chose to bring along made up his standard ground combat set, plus a little extra. Two combat knives, the DC-15, and his satchel of grenades were joined by his E-11, DL-44, and the SatSkar sword he’d so recently learned to use. Various and sundry other items joined this equipment, including his toiletries. It didn’t take long to pack, which left plenty of time to manage the rest of his duties.

Settling himself before the built-in console gracing one wall of the quarters, Drac shot off a message to the rest of his Flight…currently consisting of Albino. Eaglle and Qayla had been reassigned, along with a couple other members of the squadron. Four Flight had been closed as well, providing the Mon Cal with a not so new wingman. Albinostorm was back in place as Nazgul Ten, a situation Drac was more than pleased with. Albino was one of the sharpest pilots he knew, and a pleasure to fly beside.

Done with the task of notifying his Flight, the Chief Petty Officer switched his screen over to an official administrative server. Navigating to the appropriate section, he entered his identification number and password. Once in, he confirmed the start of his Leave and scheduled his flight plan to the Relentless. That done, he stood and stretched. Then, grabbing his gear in one hand, he left his quarters enroute to the private spacecraft hangar. Since the mission was Leave, he’d take the Krakana over to the Relentless[i/] and hope he got to bring it along when they left. The E-wing was pure joy to fly and fight in and the Mon Calamari took every opportunity to take advantage of the firepower it held.

When he arrived at the hangar, Drac was pleased to see his ship ready for takeoff already. He stowed his gear quickly, then waved the on-duty technician over, “What’s the status on my ship? Weapons, fuel, the works?”

“Yes, sir. Full loadout of sixteen proton torpedoes, laser cannons serviced and lubed, engines checked, fuel tank topped off, and systems tested. She’s as ready as we can make her.”

“Thank you, Crewman. Dismissed.” Drac saluted and turned to the ladder leading into the snubfighter’s cockpit. He settled in, buckling the various straps, closing the canopy, and activating the main systems. The preflight check went well, with both engines showing green. Ready to go, he activated the com, “This is E-wing VE0263 requesting permission to depart. All systems are green.”

“E-wing, this is Flight Control. Request checked and cleared. You are clear to launch. Good flying, pilot.”

-----

Some hours later Drac snapped off a salute to Hunter as he met the Executive Officer aboard the [i]Relentless. The action felt off, wrong somehow when performed in civilian clothing. The contrast between the unfamiliar fit of the tunic and leggings and the familiar weights of the two combat knives and blaster pistol was unsettling. Hunter noticed the uneasy expression, “Think of it as just another uniform, Drac. One that doesn’t match as well, but that’s beside the point.”

Smiling, Drac shrugged, “We all have our habits, I guess. So, what’s the situation?”

“We’re being sent to a planet called Xenzi. There’s not much there, and we don’t control it yet, but there’s some civil unrest going on. Command feels that if we can get rid of that minor problem we might gain the system for the Vast Empire. It’s important enough to matter, but may not be heavy in combat. We won’t know until we get there.”

“So they’re sending us on a diplomatic mission?” Drac eyed the other pilot incredulously, “Who in the world recommended us for that? This is going to be absolutely nuts. I can just image what our squadron’s going to show up with. I brought my E-wing along for the ride, but that may be tame by comparison. Can’t you just imagine Albino carting that lizard of his in here like it’s expected?”

OOC:

Word Count: 1,100

Kristof sat at a table in his orbital apartment, contemplating what to make for afternoon meal. Life was different for him the past couple of months, a life of retirement from service in the Imperial Navy. Where before it was wake at 0600, review paperwork, sign documents, attend meetings and briefings, submit his report, and return to his on base quarters by 1800, the life of an Officer. Now he was able to sleep in, lounge around, wonder, eat real food, and then repeat.
He could not help but think back to the surgery he had a few months ago, at the beginning of his retirement. Call it being in the wrong place at the wrong time, but it killed him and saved his life at the same time.  It was a distant memory to him, but there were facts he could remember.
Kristof, then a Private, was onboard a galactic transport, recently retired from service in the Vast Empire Stormtrooper Corps. It was a simple transport, going to who knows where.  He was looking to take the transport out to wherever it was going and retire at its destination. He does not remember much of the trip, to which the Doctors that were there when he woke up told him was because he blacked out. They did not know what caused it, but his Cyber-Brain had shorted, causing his neural pathways to block all signals from his host conciseness.  He did not know exactly what they did to resolve this, past what they told him. He was told that the doctors used parts from an Imperial Naval Droid to repair his Cyber-Brain, and that it included the part that controlled the conciseness of the person. They said nothing more than that, and not knowing what that meant confused and somewhat angered him.

He glanced out the window, gazing down into space, staring downward towards Abrae.

The Door bell went off, and Kristof stood up from his chair and went to answer it.

“Hello.” The man said. He wore a strange uniform, one that Kistof did not recognize.

“Hello, and you are? Kristof asked.

“Petty Officer First Class Robert Mesa, Sir.”

“From what department?” Kristof said, going off the assumption that the uniform was not one of a combat-oriented NCO.

“Internal Operations and Affairs, I was sent to deliver these documents to you.”

“They could not have just been sent through secure Holo-Net?”

“I was instructed to ‘Hand-Deliver’ them, and get a signature.” The Petty Officer said, as he handed Kristof a data pad and stylus.  “Please sign on the line.”

Krisotf took the data pad, and signed it as asked. He then handed it back to the Petty Officer.

“Thank you, here the documents you requested.” The NCO said.

“That I requested?” He questioned.

“Yes, Sir. The requisition order is marked back a good while, but the files were collected and I was instructed to deliver them to you.”

“Right. Then I guess I will take them.” Kristof said, and accepted the documents.

The Petty Officer saluted, to which Kristof returned the salute, and went back inside his apartment.
He took the documents over to the table, and opened the packaging. He read them over, but did not recognize any information that was listed on them. Then, strangely, in the time it took him to blink, his mind shifted and instantly he knew what the documents pertained to.

"It will take some getting used to; eventually I will phase out though and cease to exist"

Kristof grabbed his sidearm, and looked around the room.

“Who’s there? Show yourself!” He said to the voice. He looked around the room, but saw no one.

"I am not out there, you can put your sidearm away" the voice said.
“Who are you? Why can’t I see you?”

"I am in your cyber-brain. They put me into your brain during the accident. You have all of my memories, and knowledge. Placing my cyber pathways and devices into your brain repaired your Neural Interfaces"

“… so then … I have a droid in my head?” he asked, confused.

"Yes, I am C-3PX2. I was on the ship, and they needed the parts, I was done with them anyways"

“What do you mean ‘done with them’?”

"I was a Second Lieutenant in the Imperial Navy, but I had recently retired. I do not know if you know what retirement means for a droid, but it is not as pleasant as your retirement has been. I was to be shut down and scrapped for parts"

“I am so confused.” Kristof said, and sat down in his chair.
"With time, I will phase out and my memories will merge with yours, along with my knowledge. It will be seamless and you will not notice that they are not actually yours. You should be happy, everything I working out for you right now, Lieutenant"

“Lieutenant?”

"I said you got all my memories, and knowledge. Some of that information is classified and restricted to Officers of the Navy. Since we are merged through the cyber-brain, you are now a Second Lieutenant in the Vast Empire Imperial Navy"

Kristof stood up, and walked towards the window.

"I have taken the liberty of contacting the proper people within Internal Operations and Affairs, they have put the paperwork through and modified databases. All of this is current and true. You have all the duties and privileges of a Lieutenant in the Imperial Navy" the droid voice said.

“What about my retirement, you said duties, has my retirement been terminated?”

"Yes. You are schedules to report to duty by 0800 tomorrow morning. You are to be placed into a squadron and perform duties there"

“Great…” He said, still unsure of what he was just told.

Second Lieutenant Kristof O’Neill stood at his apartment window, staring outward towards Abrae, wondering what would happen next.

OOC:

980 Words

----= Slasher's apartment =----

A young (looking) and heavily scarred Falleen male stands bare chested in the middle of the training room in the Apartment, a very worn punching bag in front of him. normally this would have been the room used to entertain visitors, but Slasher felt that it was more important that he have someplace to train, so he had removed all of the furniture and such which had been put in place for the purpose of entertaining, and had prepared the room instead to be his training area.

Immediately upon entering the apartment, a visitor would see on their right a wall full of various types of low tech, but clearly lethal, weapons. To their left would be a series of training devices, some designed for punching, some for kicking, and some designed for training with the aforementioned weapons.

One

Slasher's left arm slowly extends, as he makes the motion of a punch he checks his body to make sure that it is being correctly executed, and also carefully listens to the signals his body is sending him to make sure that he is not straining his body to much.

Two

Just as slowly the other arm extends, passing his left arm which is returning to a defensive position, hitting the target in precisely the same spot that the first punch made contact.

Looks like I've still got it...

Slasher closes his eyes momentarily, and then suddenly his body explodes with motion, throwing punches with blinding speed, he delivers punches to what would have been the vital organs had the target been living. Each punch lands with unerring accuracy, and after a couple minutes of this, he stops, breathing lightly.

Slasher's head turns as he hears something beeping in the other room, and he listens as his 3PO unit moves to respond to the noise, and predictably, a couple seconds later he hears the voice of his protocol droid,

"Sir, you have a message waiting on your datapad from the Wing Commander, "

"Very well 3PO, would you please ready my uniform, I will probably need to report back to base, a pity really, I had been hoping to get some training time in so that I could get the chance to do some hands on teaching at the academy once I'm reinstated as the Training XO."

Walking over to where 3PO had placed the pad on the table in the small dining area, Slasher began to read the message:

TO: Senior Chief Petty Officer Rorran Gorma
FROM: Captain Denethor
SUBJECT: New Orders

Senior Chief Gorma, effective immediately, you are being recalled from shore leave, report to the VSD Relentless no later than 2200 hours tomorrow, information regarding assignment will be provided by one of the Flight Leads in your squadron.

SPECIAL ORDERS:
Senior Chief, in light of recent events, and due to changes taking place within the squadrons, the 4th flight of Nazgul has been closed, and you have been removed as Flight Leader. You are reassigned to first flight, with the designation Nazgul 1-3, you will report to Master Chief Hunter-Morrell, and Ensign Atrasin.

Also, it has been decided that Master Chief Hunter-Morrell will continue to hold the position of Training Executive Officer. The Academy Staff is currently full, and therefor the Empire does not need your service in that area anymore.

Loyalty, Honor, Courage

Captain Denethor
Pheonix Wing Commander

Placing the datapad back on the table, Slasher stands up, heading to his sleeping quarters within his apartment, as he enters, he addresses his 3PO unit,

"3PO, before you pack away the uniform, I need you to make a couple of alterations, remove the Flight Leader and Training Executive Officer insignia, and leave behind the NCO Dress Uniform entirely. Also, send a request to the base supply center for an Enlisted Dress uniform, let them know what insignia and decorations need to be placed on the uniform."

"Yes sir,"

----= Abrae, Vast Empire Naval Base Landing Pad =----

Slasher steps onto the Landing pad, making his way quickly over to the shuttle that would take him and the rest of Nazgul up to the Relentless. Entering the shuttle, he quickly takes a seat among the various Navy Personnel heading up to the Destroyer, and straps in, he does not speak to anyone.

Once they are in transit up to the destroyer however, he can no longer avoid it, as Master Chief Hunter-Morrell motions to him to follow him back into the cargo area. Once they arrive Hunter turns and begins to speak to him.

"Alright Slasher, what the hell is going on?"

"Master Chief?"

"You and I both know that something is bothering you, spit it out."

"What are you talking about?"

"This is not the Slasher that I know, What happened?"

"I'm old, I am no longer the top of the pile, and command has left me behind. I've been shot down one to many times,"

"Nonsense, you are one of the best pilots we have,"

"Don't lie to me, there is lots of up and coming talent in the pilot corps, and there are plenty of pilots who aren't coming off of a long time of restricted duty because of combat injuries. Command has closed my flight, I have only a couple more months left before my enlistment is up, I'm going to finish out my time and retire. I've been passed over for promotion a number of times, and it has gotten to the point where any career moves I will be making now are either going to be static, or backwards. What the empire needs is good, fresh combat pilots, not old, broken down, former Flight Leaders."

"Slasher, you were in your prime, and you were one of our top aces, you're going to just throw that away?"

"There is the key Master Chief, the key is "was" I was all those things, but I'm not anymore. I'm one ejection, one injury, away from being grounded as a starfighter pilot, and assigned to larger craft, or not assigned as a pilot at all. I'm becoming obsolete, and pretty soon I will be retired, like all old things are."

"Slasher, Nazgul won't be the same without you."

"Master Chief, there was a Nazgul Squadron before I enlisted, and there will be a Nazgul Squadron after I am gone."

"So when are you going to retire then?"

"I do not know, but I will do it before I am completely useless."

Hunter sighs, "Is there anything I can do to change your mind?"

"I do not know, Permission to return to my seat Master Chief."

"Granted"

Hunter turns his back on the forward compartment, lost deep in thought about what to do about Slasher.

Slasher looks around as he disembarks from the shuttle which brought them to the Relentless, it had been a long time since he had been on board a VSD, but since almost every ship is designed the same, he takes very little time to find his way from the hangar to the Enlisted Barracks.

I wonder what this mission is going to be like... I'd hate to die on some far off planet just a couple months before I'm supposed to retire, that would really suck.

As he arrives at the Barracks, Slasher finds his way over to the bunk which is going to be his and he begins to unpack the few belongings that he has brought with him from his apartment.

It has been a long time since I have been able to wake up and live on my own schedule, I have lived on the Empire's schedule for a long time, and I was hoping that it would give something back to me eventually...

Slasher considers placing his uniforms in the storage units which are provided for that purpose, but knowing how short the time he will be on board the Relentless is going to be, he just leaves them in the carryall he used, and shoves that into the storage unit.

As Slasher sits down on his bunk, his wingman, newly re-activated Senior Crewman DR, enters the barracks and makes his way over to Slasher.

"Slash, looks like I'm your new wingman"

"it would appear so..."

"What happened after I went inactive?"

"Well I really can't reveal to much as far as what went down, because I don't actually know what occurred. I was pretty quickly taken off the flight line because of the injuries which I had sustained during the mission to Anoat."

"That sucks, I was moved into a reserve unit for a while because of the problems I had with Skrat. Whatever happened to that reptile anyway?"

"He disappeared following the mission."

"No way, tell me what really happened Slash."

This guy really does not know what he is getting into, he better drop this

"Senior Crewman, the Official Vast Empire records indicate that Skrat disappeared following that mission, that will be all on that subject understood?"

DR shrugs and turns to his own bunk, unloading his equipment and settling in for the trip to their destination.

Turning back toward his own equipment, Slasher picks up his blaster and begins to strip and clean the weapon, making sure that everything is working correctly before reassembling the weapon and slipping it back into the holster which is at the end of his bunk.

As he begins to lay back he hears the ships comm sounding.

"All hands to Battle Stations, We have received a distress call from a group of freighters, they are under heavy attack, and we are moving to support them, Fighter pilots man your ships."

DR looks over at Slasher from his own bunk and says,

"Dang it, we're gonna be going into combat and we don't even have the capability to engage them in fighters. What are we going to do?"

"I'm not sure... This is gonna be interesting."

As they are sitting there wondering what the heck to do, a 2nd Lieutenant who was newly assigned to the squadron in the second flight third fighter slot, with the designation Nazgul 7, one 'Crashdown' according to the information file Slasher had looked over earlier, came into the barracks and said,

"Come on you two, move it! We're at Battle Stations, find something useful to do."

"Copy that Lieutenant!"

OOC:

Just throwing in a little curve, as I am liable to do from time to time. We are unable to get to any fighters, find a way you can help out aboard the ship, and do that, this is a good opportunity for some CD for your character under a combat situation where they are unable to fight back the way they are used to. Have fun.

Rocket feels someone nudging him as he groggily tries to wake up, as he looks around to try to get his bearings he looks at the person that woke him up and finds out that it is just a technician and asks him why he woke him up and finds out that the shuttle that he was waiting for had arrived and that it was about to leave and starts to run to try to get on before it takes and turns around and yells a thank you to the tech that woke him up. As he pulls up to the cargo hatch he asks the people that are moving things who is in charge so he can talk to him. One of them points to a man standing at the bottom of the hatch trying to light a smoke. He starts to walk over to him and pulls out his lighter and offers it to him and the man which had a insignia that he did not recognize and asks him if he has any room left on the shuttle, the man asks if Rocket was a pilot and he said yes. Than you can be my copilot during this trip because the one that was supposed to help me is not here as you see so put your bags in the cockpit so we can hurry up and get to the Relentless so I can get some sleep and not work for a couple of days said the man. As Rocket is walking to the cockpit he notices that the XO is on board and someone else that he did not know. Rocket starts to walk to the XO so that he that he can see if he knows anything more about the mission. Sir (snaps off a salute and waits to it is returned until he drops his)
“Congraz on the promotion Sir.”
“Thank you Crewman nice to see you.”
“You to Sir I hope that this mission goes well and do you know anything more about the mission.”
“Not at this time and Rocket do you know when this bird is lifting off?”
“I do Sir it will lift off momentarily once all of the supplies are on.”
“Okay that will be all.”
Sir (snaps off a salute and hurries to the cockpit so that he runs the pre-flight checks.)

When Rocket gets to the flight controls he notices that it is similar to the Tie class fighters but different at the same time.

Thank god I took a class at the academy about flying shuttles and got some flight time in too, and also how to pilot this better in combat too. It’s been awhile though well if he goes down than I will just let the pilot take over.


“Hey kid”
“Yes uhh?”
“Yeah that’s right my rank yeah sorry I don’t go around in uniform because I go to a lot of planets that don’t exactly like the Empire, yet alone the military in general its Petty Officer Seconded Class but it’s still sir to you though.”
“Than we ready to leave Sir.”
“Yeah we are but we are in hurry because the Relentless received a distress call about a couple of fighters that are in trouble so let’s get to it.”
And with that Rocket activates the engines and lifts off the planet and jumps to hyperspace.

OOC:

565 words needed to figure out a way to get on the ship quickly.