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Lightray
ComNet Novice
 
Lightray
 
[VE-ARMY] Lance Corporal
 
Post Number:  42
Total Posts:  43
Joined:  May 2011
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  RE: VENA: Through the Shattered Glass
November 14, 2016 10:40:51 PM    View the profile of Lightray 
Jo'ron couldn't shake off the feeling that their squad was still undergoing what he considered the "green" phase of any new squad that were thrown together in a hurry. Not much talk was being said other than a few odd moments that cut into the silence. His own reply to the individual known as Swamprat was met with a minimal response as well, to which he simply shrugged off at the end once that spark of dialogue died out. In time, i 'spose. He thought to himself.


At the end of the day, it didn't matter to him whether or not the squad got on a personal level or not. It only made for less awkward gatherings outside of ops and missions. But as long as Harbingers got the job done, that was fine with him. After all, that was the reason they were aboard that frakking shuttle in the first place; to get the job done, secure the food supplies and hopefully not get shot down in the process.


The latter reasoning came about following a heavy rocking of the shuttle that sent a pair of unbuckled squadmates nearly flying into the bulkhead. It was a tell-tale sign of a fighter on their tale. He'd had it happen to him a few times before during his smuggler days, and just once prior during his stint with the VE. Jor let out a sigh in response to this, tightening up the straps that kept him from flying off as well. He'd mostly ignored the man who previously claimed that the installation was apparently his prior to the whole getting rocked by fighters incident. If he recalled from their roll call, said man was a private, which meant his opinion mattered little in the long run. As long as civilian  casualties were kept to a limit, everything else was fair game in his opinion. It was quite hard to avoid collateral damage, after all, when you were expecting some sort of resistance to whatever your objective was.


His head swiveled around the shuttle compartment as he looked over all of the troopers who were currently latched into their seats. Despite the helmets covering their optics, he could see a bit of fidgety movements among what he assumed were the greener of the lot. Perhaps they were scared of getting shot down in mid-air. Nothing to worry about, if you asked him. After all, considering they had nowhere to run, it wasn't as if they could do anything about it. It was best to have faith in your pilot to keep you alive to the best of their ability. And for what it was worth, the pilots of the VE tended to be worth their salt more often than not, which was all the confirmation he needed.


Jo'ron took a moment to lean forwards, extended a fist with a protruding thumb that was definitely accompanied by that signature smirk of his beneath his helmet. "Here's to a rough landing!" He called out, if only to lighten up the mood within the shuttle. He found it therapeutic, or at least helpful, to joke about one's own mortality in times of crisis. After all, if their pilot wasn't all that he thought he was, it might end up being somebody's last laugh.


Lance Corporal Jo'ron "Lightray" Tallus, Trooper of Harbinger Squadron.
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THX1138
ComNet Member
 
THX1138
 
[VE-ARMY] Corporal
 
Post Number:  540
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  RE: VENA: Through the Shattered Glass
November 14, 2016 11:06:08 PM    View the profile of THX1138 
Oh… Please stop the spinning...


Therex had drowned out all the sounds of space combat and whining metal as the ship pulled off maneuvers he was sure were part of the, “NEVER TRY” section of the manuals. While his stomach pulled turns and flips, one word drifted through the haze and punched through to his brain.


Medic


Snapping his eyes open, he saw Mox point towards the cockpit and shout his and Jax’s names. All of the churning in his stomach gone in an adrenaline rush. His bag was over his shoulder and secured in the next instant. As soon as his feet hit the bulkhead, his sense of balance kicked in and he let his knees go loose under him. When the ship lurched and jerked, it slid effortlessly under him, allowing him to take a few steps at a time. But sadly, it only works for so long. One powerful shot sent the whole ship down and everything seemed to slow for a second as Therex felt himself go weightless. Using his height to his advantage, his arm shot out and closed the gap between him and the bulkhead.


As the world came slamming back into full speed and gravity returned, his feet landed solidly and he loosened his grip. However, his comrade had not been so lucky. Jax looked in considerable pain, and the dent in his shoulder told the whole story.


“You hit there, Reaper?” Therex asked, his hand already reaching into his bag and already fumbling for a painkiller to start.


“It’s just my shoulder. I’ll be fine. Let’s go see what that pilot needs us for.,” Jax practically spat at him. It was not something Therex was new too. These Army types thought they were being tough but any first year knew that you never tried to hide the severity of a wound, especially from a medic. Scowling lightly under his helmet, he almost shot back a retort, but when Jax’s face softened, he held off.


“Actually, my shoulder hurts pretty bad. But it can wait. The call for a gunner probably means we have fighters on our asses,” Jax said, trying to sound a little more calm.


Responding with only a quick, “Yeah,” Therex ducked into the cockpit. On the one side their pilot was trying his damndest to keep them in the air and unharmed. To the other was his patient. The man was slumped over his gunner controls, bleeding, scorched, but amazingly still breathing. Using his larger frame, Therex hefted the man out of the seat and onto the floor nearby. Moving him was probably not the best idea, but therex knew that seat needed to be filled, and it would be easier to work on him if he was laying flat. Doing his best to move quickly, but still work precisely, he removed the remains of the man’s helmet and chest plate.


Burns, both 2nd and 3rd degree. Several large open wounds that need immediate care. Textbook case.


He started laying out his tools in front of him. Several bacta patches were applied to his chest to prevent any infection from spreading. Therex had no time to make it pretty, but he ran his hand over the man’s face, checking the larger openings. His hand snagged slightly on something and he sighed.


Shrapnel. Frak.


Pulling out a pair of tweezers, he gently pushed the man’s charred flesh aside, and spotted the two small glints underneath. The location was easy since no real important veins existed along their path. He removed both pieces and flung them aside before applying a quick burn patch and used a laser suture to close up the freshly bleeding shrapnel wounds. His hands shook from the violent tremors the ship felt, but he knew how to handle these situations. The trick was to stay relaxed and not try to overcorrect for the movements.


Checking the man’s vitals, Therex decided he had done what he could. This was a Navy man after all. As soon as they were dropped off, he’d be dumped on the ship with a better stocked infirmary and a medical droid. Turning back to look out the viewport, he saw their LZ getting closer and closer.


Tapping the pilot on the shoulder, he shouted, “Your partner will be okay. Just get him looked at once you’ve dumped us planetside.”


Not waiting for a response, Therex ran back to his chair and strapped in to prepare for the landing, as rough or as gentle as it may be.
"He has his orders, and when a Chiss accepts orders he carries them out, period."

Smile for death

TRP/CPL THX-1138/4SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/Tadath/VEA/VE
[ES1][EW1][SoC][*QW 12*][*ESC*12*](ECA)(HeS)(2.1)(2.2)(A11)

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Raigen
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Raigen
 
[VE-NAVY] Senior Crewman
 
Post Number:  1329
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  RE: VENA: Through the Shattered Glass
November 14, 2016 11:21:34 PM    View the profile of Raigen 
“Seriously man. . .these force cages. . . they’re a little outdated don’t you think? Has it ever occurred to you to provide someone with a chair. Am I supposed to sleep standing up?”

“Not allowed to converse with prisoners, sir.”

“Well that sucks. . .going to be a long shift. . .seven more hours to go, and I don’t see anyone else in here. Not like you could take a nap. C’mon, how about we play a game of sabaac?”

“Read your file sir, says you cheat at sabaac, sir.”

“YOU CONFISCATED MY SKIFTER!”

“Not allowed to converse with prisoners, sir.”

“This is going to be a long shift.”

My name is Raigen Darkblayde Tei-Yehn, I used to be a smuggler, before the war ended.  Yes, I know what you’re thinking, and yes, I was quite young. But I had some very competent friends, and I got competent myself pretty quick.  You have to be, when you’re being chased down by half the authorities in the galaxy.  Of course, after the war, smuggling wasn’t what it used to be.  I found myself working for some pirates called the Red Dragon Armada.  Crazy sons of bitches, you know they make you hunt down a krayt dragon with nothing but blaster rifles. Only those that survive get to join.  Well with the New Republic Navy expanding, needless to say, that job didn’t last long either.  I ended up in a situation very similar to the one I’m in now.  And you wouldn’t believe who saved my ass.

The Vast Empire they called themselves.  They weren’t very vast, from what I could tell, but they had use for people with my particular set of skills, and I wasn’t the only one.  Seemed like everyone in Phoenix Wing was a rough and tumble ne’er do well like me.  We used to fly those tie interceptors like they had shields, and believe me, they didn’t.  Wasn’t all flying though, we did some cloak and dagger stuff from time to time.  You get pretty banged up too. See this eye, it’s mine, but my buddy Hunter lost his to some pirates on Asteroid prime. Bastards cut it out with a vibroblade. I was lucky, I got out only missing a couple of fingers.  Lost some shoulder cartilage in a wreck a few years back, too.  This scar over my eye, well. . .let’s just say you don’t really want to be at odds with a powerful Hutt family.  After a while, I got separated from the fleet, found myself pirating again with a group called the August Rush. They were twice as crazy and half as skilled as my buddies in Aegis Squadron. Probably how I got stuck in the situation I’m in.

Okay, so maybe I’ve been more lucky than skilled over the years.  And my luck may have been pretty bad recently, hence the force cage.  But I have a feeling that my luck’s going to changing pretty soon, and I’m going to be back with some old friends.


-------------------


Raigen was the only prisoner in this cell block, which was more of a broom closet with a few force cages and a guard that couldn’t have been more than a year past puberty.  Eyeing the room carefully, he took note of the guard: how his eyes drifted during long silences, the fact that he didn’t carry a side arm, the make and model of his blaster rifle.  The fact that his helmet was just a bit too loose on his head.  This kid might as well be shaking in his boots. . . he thought before devising a plan.

I could pretend to feint, when he turns off the cage to check on me, I could roll him up and turn the cage back on. Damn, no, then I'd be unarmed and they'd just capture me again. I could let them take me to sick bay, I'd have a better chance of escaping from there, and likely score some stims on the way out. . .

No that won't work, they'll bind me to the med table.  Okay, back to plan A.  I roll him up and shoot him with his rifle, no they'd here the blaster fire.  Roll him up and put him in a choke hold.  When he passes out, I take his rifle and escape. . . no that won't work either, the camera's will give me away, I'll be surrounded in minutes.  THIS TIME I HAVE IT!

Raigen was just about to crack a smile when the entire ship rocked and the room when dark. The hull had been hit, or the shields had overloaded the circuitry and drawn power from this area when the ship was hit.  In either way, by the time the light's came on, Raigen had already disarmed and incapacitated the guard and was ready with the blaster, firing a bolt into the surveillance camera.  He began the arduous process of changing into the man's clothes.
==================
CPO Raigen DarkBlayde Tei-Yehn/VE (=*A*=)(=*SA*=)(=*BO*=)[VC:B][SWC][BRC][NS-2] ==RETIRED==

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JaxTheReaper
ComNet Initiate
 
JaxTheReaper
 
[VE-ARMY] Private First Class
 
Post Number:  134
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  RE: VENA: Through the Shattered Glass
November 15, 2016 2:24:59 AM    View the profile of JaxTheReaper 
Jax watched Therex minister to the fleet types wounds for a few seconds and then his attention was drawn by an imperious gesture from the shuttle pilot pointing towards the gunnery station. Right. Jax turned and eyed the gunnery station with some distaste. There was blood everywhere and there was a bit of battle damage to the consoles. Eh, no guts no glory. He sat down.


“Not that one. It’s fried. The one on the right.” The pilot made another gesture, her eyes still focused on the starfield in front of her. “The rear cannon’s slagged, but the two forwards are still good. Joystick, firing trigger, aim for anything that’s not a TIE.”


“Roger that” Jax replied to her commands, switching seats to the indicated gunnery station. He manipulated the joystick, testing the response time. The consoles were already online and Jax saw his first opportunity coming their way. He swiveled to the left bringing the targeting reticule to bear on the approaching pirate fighter. Squeezing the trigger, he watched as a pair of laser blasts skimmed past the fighter’s shields. Gonna have to do better than that. Jax readjusted his aim and squeezed the trigger again, this time holding it down for a few seconds and dragging the reticule across the opposing fighter.


Unfortunately their pilot decided to take that moment to throw their shuttle into a series of twists and turns he didn’t think a Lamda class shuttle would be capable of. “Fierfek! I didn’t know this ship could do that!” he yelled, holding on for dear life. The sudden flight change in their shuttle path caused his shots to fly wide of their intended target. Fortunately for Jax and unfortunately for the pirates, the fighter he was aiming at had a wingman, and this fighter took the majority of his missed shots directly to the face. It exploded in a shower of debris and a momentary fireball that burned out almost as quickly as it appeared.


“Take that you frakers!”Jax shouted in triumph. “I totally meant to do that.”


"Shut it, I'm trying to fly." The pilot straightened out the shuttle. "Still, accidental or no, I'll take it."


Jax turned his head as the pilot responded to him and grumbled to himself as he turned his head back to his screen.


“What was that?” the pilot said.


“Nothing!” Jax shouted. He noticed on his monitor that the enemy fighters had suddenly turned tail and were burning hard back towards the main battle. “What the…” he said in confusion. “Come back here you fraking cowards! There’s still more of you I need to kill!” he shouted at the screen.


“Quiet.” The pilot said, her voice unusually free of attitude.


Jax noted the change in tone from their pilot and glanced over. He wasn’t a complete imbecile when it came to shipboard readouts and sensors. He owned a small fleet of starships after all and he knew how to read a radar screen. There was a new, rather large, blip on the screen heading in the direction of their space battle from the far side of the planet.


“What is that?” he said in a subdued tone, dreading the answer.


The pilot replied, her voice tinged with fear. “The New Republic.”


Jax turned back to his gunnery screen, “Oh sh..”
PFC Reaper/1SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1REG/VEA/VE

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[This message has been edited by JaxTheReaper (edited November 15, 2016 2:34:23 AM)]
[This message has been edited by JaxTheReaper (edited November 15, 2016 2:58:47 AM)]
[This message has been edited by JaxTheReaper (edited November 15, 2016 5:08:54 PM)]
NormalGuyNamed
ComNet n00b
 
[VE-NAVY] Leading Crewman
 
Post Number:  4
Total Posts:  7
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  RE: VENA: Through the Shattered Glass
November 15, 2016 3:01:02 AM    View the profile of NormalGuyNamed 
“627th…. This is Command…. Lambda class shuttle Loose Latch is need of assistance. Under heavy fire from enemy Warspites…. Please respond.” the message came loud and clear.


“Roger, Command, we’re on our way,” the squadron leader replied, “Let’s go boys.”


After that there was a blur of motion as Jett and the rest of his squadron swung around, charging straight at the Warsprites. He managed to get a few as they flew behind, and his squadron managed to either get the rest down or otherwise drive them off, leading to more sparse dogfights. A few still kept on the tail of the transport, so Jett and the rest of his flight kept on their tail.


Loose Latch... this is…. Uh…” Shit, what was my designation again?, ”Jett Lockhart of the 627th Squadron, here for assistance. Keep a cool head and try not to hit us,” Jett said, as calmly as possible, but there was a definite quiver in his voice. He didn’t want to speak up, but it seemed no one else was going to at the moment.


He was really tissed about his lack of heavy artillery, since the torpedos were in such high demand, he didn’t get any. Well I guess I’ll have to deal with them using my wits and my blasters then.


He then proceeded to drive his TIE up and above the Warsprites, diving between them and the Loose Latch, along with one other member of his flight. The other stayed back to try and blast some from the back as Jett and the other defended the transport from enemy fire. They both got hit a few dozen times, but managed to keep a decent defense up. He didn’t know the condition of the LZ, but he hoped someone could clear it up. He got hit pretty hard a few times and, after conferring with his wingman, they both slowed up, trying to get the Warsprites to scatter a bit. They did, but only to get around the front of his flight.


Now back where they started, Jett simply let loose everything he had. There were six left flying behind the Latch and another dozen  or so were engaged by the rest of the wing. He managed to get another one down with the help of some nice shots by his flight mates. He was flying lead, for some unknown reason, but he felt more level headed than before, less nervous or rattled. He was ready for this now… Or so he thought before one of the Warsprites came barreling backwards towards him. He dove, narrowly dodging out of the way,  but flew straight into the debris from one of the Warsprites shot by the shuttle. He pulled up, but he had maintained some wing damage, and it looked like one of the blasters was malfunctioning, useless until repaired. With four more enemies left, he got ready for the long haul.

He saw the new blips come up on his radar, but didn't pay them much mind, more pressing matters at hand.
FM/LCRW NormalGuyNamed/118th "TBD" Squadron/VEN/VE[SoA]
[This message has been edited by NormalGuyNamed (edited November 15, 2016 3:11:52 AM)]
Maroy
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Maroy
 
[VE-NAVY] Chief Warrant Officer
 
Post Number:  710
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  RE: VENA: Through the Shattered Glass
November 15, 2016 4:01:05 AM    View the profile of Maroy 
“Your partner will be okay. Just get him looked at once you’ve dumped us planetside.” Juvi didn’t respond to the medic, but internally, she let out a sigh of relief. Darron wasn’t the best co-pilot she could ask for, but the kid didn’t deserve to flatline on his first outing. If he was okay, that was one less voice in the back of her head to deal with.

The other trooper immediately plopped himself down in Darron’s now-vacant seat. The one with the blown-out console. She sighed. “Not that one. It’s fried. The one on the right.” She gestured in the general direction of the dedicated gunnery station. “The rear cannon’s slagged, but the two forwards are still good. Joystick, firing trigger, aim for anything that’s not a TIE.” That should be straightforward enough for a buckethead.

Distracted by the two troopers, she failed to notice the fighter coming right at them. A few blasts hit, bringing down the shields to critical levels. Her new gunner returned fire, but missed.

Yes, Juvi had a shuttle certification-- but almost all of her flight experience was in an Interceptor simulator. When they came under fire again, her dogfighting instincts kicked in.

“Fierfek! I didn’t know this ship could do that!” The gunner shouted to nobody in particular as Juvi flung the Loose Latch into another spin. A moment later, he scored a lucky hit on one of the Warsprites’ wingmen. “Take that you frakers! I meant to do that.”

At least Darron had been fairly quiet. "Shut it, I'm trying to fly." Juvi leveled out, preparing for another maneuver. "Still, accidental or no, I'll take it."

The gunner muttered something that sounded like an insult. “What was that?”

“Nothing!” He shouted back. Juvi rolled her eyes. The sooner she could drop these skeletals and get back to the relative safety of the Koom Valley, the better. The brief argument was interrupted by the appearance of another ship signature on the technical readout. Juvi’s heart skipped a beat.

A Mon Calamari cruiser had just entered the combat zone.

The gunner shouted angrily as the pirate fighters started to peel away, although Juvi barely registered what he was saying. “Quiet.”

The gunner seemed to get that something big had happened. For once, he’d stopped shouting. “What is that?”

In spite of herself, Juvi had no witty reply. “The New Republic.”

“Oh sh…”

Whatever swear the gunner was uttering, Juvi missed it when the comms crackled to life. “Loose Latch... this is…. Uh… Jett Lockhart of the 627th Squadron, here for assistance. Keep a cool head and try not to hit us.” Juvi rolled her eyes. At least she’d managed to graduate before they stuck her in a combat role. This kid sounded like he’d never even sat in a TIE before. Still, she welcomed the assistance.

Or would’ve, if they hadn’t just driven the Warsprites right back towards her.

“Sithspit.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thankfully, the rest of the squadron seemed competent enough, fending off the pirate fighters well enough for her to escape. With the main opposition out of the way, the Loose Latch was able to reach the planet’s atmosphere. As they approached the intended LZ, Juvi immediately noticed something was wrong.

Three of the shuttles had made it safely, but it looked like the pirates had somehow built a makeshift turbolaser emplacement atop one of the facilities. The burning wreckage of a fourth shuttle occupied the spot where the Loose Latch was supposed to land.

Juvi keyed the comm. “Control, this is Loose Latch. Our LZ is compromised. Requesting...” Her ears were immediately assaulted by a burst of static. Right. Ion storms.

The turbolaser started pivoting towards its next victim.

Juvi turned to the gunner. “Hey, groundpounder, any ideas?”

“Can you set up a micro-burst transmission and target it at the facilities antenna? That should be able to punch through this ion interference.”

Juvi mentally flipped through what she’d learned in her engineering courses. Thankfully, she hadn’t worked her way around that set of classes. She’d need to use the full communications console, though. “I can do it. But… I can’t do it and fly.”

“Alright fleet jocky. Tell me how to do it. I’m not familiar with these Lambda systems.”

She nodded, already preparing to put the shuttle through another evasive maneuver. “Comms console. Opposite the gunnery station. Bring up the ‘manual parameters’ display. Oh, and hold on to something.”

The gunner had managed to plop into the comms seat just as she said that last part, and held on for dear life as his stomach dipped and the shuttle proceeded to dive.

Juvi pitched the shuttle straight downward, diving towards the planet’s surface. A turbolaser blast sliced through the air where the shuttle would have been. She pulled up hard, righting the shuttle, still a few hundred feet above the treeline. “Under ‘frequency’, you’ll need to set it to something in the point-1 to point-2 range,” Juvi continued, ignoring the discomfort of her assistant. “That should do it. After that, yank out the yellow wire from underneath the console. We’ll need to bypass the overflow capacitor.”

The trooper’s fingers flew across the controls as Juvi explained the steps to set up the burst. “That it?” he asked, reaching underneath his console and yanking out the ‘yellow’ wire.

“Should be.” Juvi quickly keyed in the coordinates with a free hand. “If you’ve pulled the wire, you’re good to transmit. Standard operating controls.”

He entered a series of coded commands into his console and beamed the package to the facilities antenna array.

A moment later, a blip vanished from the sensor readout as the turbolaser went offline. “That did it. Looks like we’re clear to land.” Juvi sighed with relief. “Now for the hard part.”

“I sent a coded command to take the power generators offline for the whole facility. It won’t last for long so you’ll probably need to put this bucket down asap.”

“Quickly? Not problem. It’s landing slowly enough that I’m worried about.” Juvi pitched the shuttle down again, giving it a slight roll so it spiraled downward.

He pressed a button on his console and a flashing circle appeared on the map on Juvi’s display. This area is a good place to land. Lots of cover. That generator isn’t going to be offline long enough to get to the main LZ. The turbolaser’ll shred us.” He finally latched his safety harness into place.

“Good to know.” Juvi pushed the throttle even faster, racing downward towards the area he’d indicated. The trees came closer and closer. At the last possible second, she cut the thrust and activated all the repulsorlift generators, angling them down and forward.

She had a moment to shout “Brace for impact!” into the rear compartment before the shuttle made a hard, but survivable, landing.
XO/CWO/Maroy/Silver 5/S:46 Jexxel/W:101 Blade/ISD Paragon/TF:A|2FL|SC|VEN|VE (=*A*=) [GCM] [CBV] [IG]x2 [MC2] [MC1] [VC:B] [LoM] [CC: P] [CC: W] [CC: D] [LC] [SoV]

SCPO | Anatosh "Bee" Tarn | Aurora 2 | 175th Aurora Squadron | 48th Sabre Wing | ISD-II Adjudicator | 1st Fleet | SFC | VEN | VE
[This message has been edited by Maroy (edited November 15, 2016 4:24:18 AM)]
Mox
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Mox
 
[VE-ARMY] Corporal
 
Post Number:  632
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  RE: VENA: Through the Shattered Glass
November 15, 2016 9:36:45 PM    View the profile of Mox 
=== ETA 40 Minutes ===

Mox was walking up the ramp, watching his troopers get regeared into the SCOPE gear. There was something calming about knowing the troopers under his command weren’t getting the restrictive plastoid cage that the standard issue Stormtrooper armour was. While it was very protective against slugs, it generally served as a dissipation barrier against blaster fire, preventing actual wounds, but concussing its user. This way more Stormtroopers survived, albeit they were taken out of the action quicker. At the same time however it still hindered their movement, not allowing them to reach full sprint for example, making it more likely for them to get hit.

I ought to check out the pilot’s compartment.” he thought as he reached the top of the ramp and entered the shuttle proper. Given the Vast Empire’s lamentable state, he wouldn’t be surprised if their shuttles weren’t in mint condition. [i]And with those ion storms planetside…

He passed his squad members and pressed the button of the pilot’s cabin. Inside he found an assortment of boxes with various electrical equipment and a single pilot, in addition to all the actual piloting controls. The compartment didn’t look as if it was about to launch.

“Are we all good here?” he asked the pilot, doubt audible in his voice

"Well, if the diagnostics are correct, we're basically flying with only four fifths of a shuttle." the woman replied, barely turning his way. The squad leader’s brows furrowed, before raising one of them questioningly. After a moment the pilot turned around fully and looked into Mox’s visor. “Flying shouldn’t be a problem. But landing will be rough.”

"Well, I hope you're damn a good a pilot then.” the soldier said, his voice bordering on contempt “Else we're going to end up a falling brick, what with those ion storms raging in the atmosphere."

Smile crept onto the pilot’s face “Worst case, I drop you all out the back. After that, you’re not my problem.” Mox rolled his eyes, before nodding and turning back inside. It’ll do. It’s not like we have an alternative.

As he stepped back into the passenger cabin he saw a Stormtrooper-clad soldier walk up the ramp. The armour didn’t seem to exactly fit, as if the frame of the wearer didn’t match the armour mould.
Soletar ta’raysh Mox thought as the soldier seemed to be walking straight towards him.

“Mox, this is for you.” the soldier grabbed his hand before he could react and stuffed an orange flex-pauldron inside.

The veteran of six years noticed the RAIDERS insignia in its corner. His breathing quickened, and he unfolded the pauldron, looking it over. On the underside he saw callsigns of the previous squad leaders. A space was missing between Havock’s and Jaenna’s entries. Right. He didn’t really believe in protocol. he thought, remembering the man who spared his life I hope to never see him again.

After a moment of pondering he took off his helmet, and slipped the pauldron on. For this mission. The pirates are probably not competent enough to call shots, and friendly squads will need to recognise me.

=== Present ===

Frakking hell…

Mox breathed deeply and audibly as he sat in his straps. They’ve lasted both the insanity of the flight down to the surface, and the landing itself. While over the last 3 years he crossed paths with death in a space can a few too many times for his liking, he was still not prepared for the crash landing.

“Another happy landing!” he heard someone exclaim after a moment, their voice strained and breathless despite the audible excitement.

Looking up he saw the members of the two squads also slowly accustoming themselves to not being in motion anymore.

“Everybody alive?” the Harbingers squad leader asked, shifting in his seat slowly. A number of rogers came back. However, a number of troopers didn’t respond. They better not die on me before we even face OpFor...

“Right, we have a job to do here, lads.” the SL of the 2nd Squad called out. “Let’s get out of this tin cage and secure the perimeter before we get spooked.”

“Jax, check on the co-pilot.” Mox call out as he arduously started unclipping himself. “Jax!” Must’ve passed out. “Therex, go check on them.”

The passenger bay seemed to have survived the crash, at least internally. A ventilation panel or two have fallen off, and smoke filled the cabin making it not the easiest to see, but the general shape seems to have been preserved. Mox wasn’t too sure about the pilot’s cabin however. The chiss got free of his straps first, and quickly moved towards it.

“Mox, the pilot and Jax are unconscious but alive… the co-pilot didn’t make it.” Mox’s brows furrowed. Never too early for people to die. he thought, resignedly shaking his head

One of 2nd's troopers also freed himself and approached the ramp. He pressed the ramp button expectantly a couple of times.

“That thing is probably dead, Skidz.” said his squadmate as he also got free “Look at its top, I’m surprised it didn’t give and blow the other way.”

Mox got up from his seat and checked his equipment. Nothing unclipped, thank frak. he thought “Harbingers, check on your squadmates. Make sure they’re awake and breathing.” Mox ordered, as he made his way over to front of the shuttle.

The pilot’s cabin has suffered substantial damage. The front screen had a major crack in its lower corner, and the cabin itself seemed slightly bent, causing the weak points of the interior frame to visibly distort. The floor itself was covered in blood from the deceased co-pilot, his body lying to the side, his legs bent in unnatural ways. His face was contorted into a terrifying scream, the effect of which was only compounded by the eye injury he suffered. Goddamit ‘Rex.

Looking back up he approached the crack in the screen. That’s our way out. The shuttle itself is probably not in flyable condition anyway. he punched the crack. It didn’t give. A frag right here ought to blow a hole so that we may climb out. he looked back at Jax’s helmetless face, who seemed to wake up, albeit slowly ...we have an E-Web.

“There ain’t no other way out of here, Harb.” Mox heard SL’s voice behind him. “The screen’s here’s the weakest point I found.”

“Indeed. I’m thinking an e-web blast ought to create a way outside.” Mox replied “It may seem extreme, but do you have any better ideas?”

“Not really.”

“Zippy, how long would it take to set-up the E-Web to fire?” Mox called out, turning towards the entrace

“Errr, from cold? Frak, like, 15 minutes or so?”

“15 minutes of being stuck inside this lunchbox. Ain’t nothin’ to look forward to. If the pirates were to spook us they would have us at a big disadvantage…”2nd’s SL replied shaking his head

Mox looked up and through the screen to the outside. Trapped by a couple of inches of transparisteel... frakking great.

“Zippy, get it set-up and start prepping it. Jax'll help you once he's back up and running.”
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Faithful 'til the End
Faithful? More like crazy...
SL/SSG Mox/1SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/VEA/VE
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If you're thinking of putting me in a leadership position, for the sake of the entity I would be leading, reconsider.
Zippy
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Zippy
 
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  RE: VENA: Through the Shattered Glass
November 16, 2016 7:59:53 AM    View the profile of Zippy 
"You want me to what?" said Zippy in confusion.

"You heard me Zippy! Get the E-web prepped now! You can ask all the questions you want later when this is over! We need a way out of here!"

Zippy didn't even hesitate at that point. Once an order was given, he would follow it to the letter. Even he could sense the situation here. It wasn't pretty. The E-web was such a marvelous weapon to look at. This baby can shoot with minimum range of one hundred and fifty meters and max of seven. Is one of the best weapons in our arsenal. This was a treat and it was happening a lot faster than even he could anticipate. Prepping that cannon as quickly as possible, he noticed the rest of the troopers still recovering from their less than heroic landing. He continued to prep, knowing full well it takes two to operate this damn thing. One person on the cannon, the other for the generators power.

"If Jax thinks for two seconds he's the one that gets to fire this baby, he's got another thing coming."

He looked around at some of his fellow troopers that had landed with him, most still recovering from the landing. Zippy imagined what their faces looked like underneath those helmets at this current moment. The adrenaline pumping, the sweat beading down their faces. This is what they were born for after all. The shear thrill of it all. Even in combat, it was truly a spectacle to behold.

"Where is Jax? he muttered to himself. He better be alright. I could really use him right now on this. E-web is beauty, but this thin is a chore to set up without a second man to help get everything in it's place, especially the main cannon.

"I'll be there in a moment! I'm a little busy right now! Jax exclaimed, being with the pilot.

"For fraks sake, Zippy stated in frustration. Can I please have one trip where I land and don't immediately get shot at by everything on the planet!"

The E-web was almost ready. Just a few minor adjustments needed to be made and they could get out of this tin can they called a ship. Fortunately they were still in one peace, but even so, they couldn't stay in here much longer. They had a job to do.

"Let's just hope nobody blows up the ship before I get to shoot this thing. Better give it a lovely name while I'm at. Something like, Harbinger's kiss. Oh I quite like that," speaking under his own breath with a smirk.

It was just starting to get interesting.
Lance Corporal Zippy
Private First Class of the VE Marine Corps
TRP/LCPL Zippy/1SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/VEA/VE [ECA] [LM]
Eclipse Squad
"Strike first. Fast, exact, secure.
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[This message has been edited by Zippy (edited November 16, 2016 10:22:05 AM)]
Raigen
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Raigen
 
[VE-NAVY] Senior Crewman
 
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  RE: VENA: Through the Shattered Glass
November 16, 2016 7:20:03 PM    View the profile of Raigen 
Ensign Kerr Graves walked briskly, extending stick like legs their entire range without actually jogging.  Perfect posture and composure made it difficult to tell whether the young man was in a hurry, or simply moving with a purpose.  Unimpeachably shined boots came to a halt inside the turbolift as, still susceptible to the rigidity and indoctrination of the New Republic Navy, Kerr performed a textbook about face, keying in the life codes that would take him up to the bridge of the Alderaan’s Justice.  With the same dutiful gait that brought him there, Kerr approached Line Captain Nakbuls, offering a crisp salute and an unwavering gaze forward, absent a target.  His air of professionalism was returned with a halfhearted salute and an order to stand at ease.  Kerr addressed the captain swiftly but intelligibly, “Sir, we’ve had a malfunction in the detention center.  It would seem that our prisoner has escaped. “

“Come again, Ensign.” Mumbling from a wide amphimbian mouth, small bumps dotting the landscape of a sagging neck of white leather.  A respectable captain in the New Republic, Iciss Nakbuls was of moderately old age for a Mon Calamari.  His command of the Algeria’s Justice was something he held a great amount of pride, and although the various facial expressions of the Mon Calamari eluded the ensign, the captain’s tone displayed a great deal of frustration at the prospect of a prisoner escaping aboard his vessel.

“Sir, from what we can tell, there was a malfunction when raising the deflector shields.  Power was rerouted from some of the nonessential ship systems but overloaded the conduits in the portion of the ship he was being held in.”

“Where are we in finding him?” The captain inquired, apparently accepting the fact that the prisoner had indeed escaped and a willingness to reconcile the situation.

“Two guards were dispatched to investigate but never responded.  I sent another security team and it would seem the prisoner killed three men and is hiding somewhere on that level, dressed as one of our security team. We’ve locked down the turbolifts and placed guards on all the access hatches.  We’re doing a sweep of the area now.” Kerr seemed confident as he explained the situation, following established protocols and even increasing security measures.

“Very well, I’ll be down shortly.”

“Sir?” A confused expression cascading over Kerr’s face.

“The prisoner is a pirate and a criminal, with the audacity to kill three of my men. I will oversee his capture personally, Ensign. I’m more than capable of controlling this bridge will not physically present.”

“But, sir, the battle?”

“That’s all, Ensign.”

"Yes, Sir," Ensign Graves clicked boots together, giving a final salute before departing with the same sense of urgency with which he came.  The turbolift doors would gasp as they sealed before Kerr allowed himself to let out a short curse under his breath, “Fekkin Hell.”
==================
CPO Raigen DarkBlayde Tei-Yehn/VE (=*A*=)(=*SA*=)(=*BO*=)[VC:B][SWC][BRC][NS-2] ==RETIRED==

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Tetrarch
ComNet Novice
 
[VE-ARMY] Private First Class
[VE-NAVY] Leading Crewman
 
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  RE: VENA: Through the Shattered Glass
November 16, 2016 8:06:54 PM    View the profile of Tetrarch 
Cathal felt like his bones were being rattled to bits. The shuttle thrust had increased and the descent angle gotten steeper. His teeth gritted against the mounting pressure. The blood began to rush to his legs, making him feel dizzy. The trooper opposite him blacked out, going limp in the restraint harness.


His mind began to fill with those wonderful dark thoughts that presented themselves when dire straits beckoned. He imagined the heat shielding ripping away, the metal hull of the shuttle melting, and those inside being cooked to a crisp.The shuttle began to judder and shake as it entered atmosphere and hit turbulence. Not long now.


“Brace for impact!”


Feth, even she sounds on edge! Swamprat’s entire body tensed up, gripping the restraints and he cringed, getting ready for the landing. Or crash. There was a roar as the repulsorlifts kicked and everything went black.
__________________________________________


He’d only been out a minute or two but a lot had changed. Troopers were out of their harnesses, sorting their kit. Others were slowly coming to life like him, while others still lay sprawled in their harnesses, still out for the count. His head hurt and he probed his teeth experimentally with his tongue. Still got them. Shaky hands undid his restraints and he steadied himself with a hand as he rose on uncertain legs. His head twisted to try and work a kink out of his neck. “Feth” he swore, just grateful to be on solid soil. Feth being in space and not the master of your own fate. Groundside was where it was at. One trooper turned to look at him, he could almost hear the smile under the helmet as he spoke. “The Emperor protects!”.


There was swearing from the bow and he nudged the trooper ahead of him, there was too many of them to see what was happening so he had to rely on what got passed down the line. “Ramp is stuck” “Oh for the love of-” “Things can always get worse” “Shut your gob Laoch!”. Cathal shut out the bickering voices and checked his E-45, the rifle looked to have survived the landing alright. Doing so kept the nerves at bay, none of the stormtroopers were happy at being trapped in a metal can. 


“Zippy how long would it take to set up the E-Web to fire?” came the call. Swamprat blinked. From where? Inside the shuttle?! The mass began to shuffle to clear a path as two troopers went to retrieve it and bring it forward. “Wonder what’s waiting for us outside” quipped Laoch sarcastically. He was obsessively checking the blaster pack on his rifle. Cathal tried not to imagine pirates gleefully waiting in ambush for the first armoured figure to stumble out of the shuttle.


A good landing is one you can walk away from.
[STC]  Private 1st Class Cathal "Swamprat" Mckarthaigh.

[Navy] Leading Crewman Muireach "Tetrarch" Buide.
Lightray
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Lightray
 
[VE-ARMY] Lance Corporal
 
Post Number:  43
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  RE: VENA: Through the Shattered Glass
November 16, 2016 11:32:47 PM    View the profile of Lightray 
“Brace for impact!”


The message coming from one of the pilots was all the confirmation that Jor needed to understand that making a soft landing was out of the conversation. When moments later the shuttle had indeed crashed into the dirt, he'd luckily been strapped in enough to avoid being tossed around like a ragdoll, as well as maintain his full coherence in the aftermath. "Wooh!' He let out what began as a sigh of relief into something more vocal. Taking a moment to release the straps on his helmet, he'd slide it off of his head to try and get what fresh air he potentially could. Unfortunately for him, the atmosphere within the shuttle was currently a mixture between sweat, burning wires and circuitry and the hint of a completed busted engine that might have been sending off fumes from the outside of the shuttle.


The combined scents filled his nostrils enough that he instead chose to slid his helmet right back on. Undoing the straps on his harness provided to be an easy task, although the scene around the shuttle was one that could be described as nothing short of outright chaos. They were stuck in enemy territory, troopers were scattered all around and their mission count had undoubtedly been dropped by a few troopers from the second squadron being knocked unconscious, if not worse. Yet within the chaos, a brief veil of order was being maintained as his SL began working out a plan to get them freed from the shuttle. With the ramp stuck, it appeared as if their best option would instead be to blast open the transpirasteel window covering the cockpit. This order would fall onto a trooper by the name of 'Zippy", who had hurriedly began the process of getting his E-WEB set up and ready to blow the Harbingers an exit point. 


Jo'ron stepped his way over a fallen trooper, his E-45 slinging across his arm as he made his way over towards the trooper attempting to set up the weapon to give them an escape route. "Oi!" He called out, raising a palm as well to signal it was him. A few hurried steps would place him right next to the man and soon he'd be on a knee in an attempt to assist Zippy in getting the E-WEB ready to fire. "Two sets of hands are better than one,  aye? I'll do what I can to help! Let's just punch a hole through that window so we're no longer a sitting box full of free targets!" Jor finished off with a nod before turning his attention to once more doing his best at providing improvised assistance.


He'd gotten the opportunity to briefly fire one of them in combat, so at the least he'd make sure there were no malfunctions with the tripod if anything else. The trooper by the name of Zippy would look towards him, his hands still working on the setting the machine up as well. "Well thanks for the help, trooper! Let's hope this thing doesn't frakkin' frag us all in the process!' Zippy responded, prompting a chuckle from beneath Jo'ron's helmet. "Oh that'll be the fun part, you bet'cha! Name's Lightray by the way!" Another twi finger salute rose to the brim of his helmet, right on the edge of the eye. A mechanical noise emanated from the E-WEB not too long after the pair had began their concentrated effort at speeding up the process. "Zippy!" He replied in a bit of a hurry as he quickly raising up to his feet and assuming a position behind the now ready-to-fire weapon platform. A commlink would open up between him and their SL, and soon both Lightray and Zippy would confirm that the gun was ready to fire on his mark.


Lance Corporal Jo'ron "Lightray" Tallus, Trooper of Harbinger Squadron.
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Maroy
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Maroy
 
[VE-NAVY] Chief Warrant Officer
 
Post Number:  715
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  RE: VENA: Through the Shattered Glass
November 17, 2016 2:38:22 AM    View the profile of Maroy 
Normally Muulog Morg relished any opportunity he could take to serve the Empire, but when he'd been assigned to one of the Naval Academy's on-station squadrons, he hadn't realized the position was mostly just a stepping stone for recruits moving on to bigger and better things. Many faces came and went, but despite his spotless record, he went nowhere. Surely his skills would be put to better use in a more... engaging role, he thought; and, as luck would have it, today he was finally seeing some action. As executive officer of the 203rd, Muulog Morg finally got to fight at the forefront of a battle.

Well, sort of. He was also babysitting an entire squadron of academy graduates, while they earned their wings defending the Valiant.

"by Triakk's tendrils, Six," Muulog snorted, "stop flying in zig-zags when there's nothing shooting at you! You're wasting fuel for no good reason!"

"Who's Triakk, Chief?" His sheepish young wingmate responded.

"She's the goddess of chaos and-- that's not the point!" Muulog sighed.

"Sorry, Chief."

"Cut the kid some slack, Five," the squadron commander interjected. He was fairly laid-back in his treatment of the recruits, compared to his executive officer. Muulog just hoped it didn't get any of them killed.

"Yes sir," the deflated Muulog replied. He glanced over the tactical readouts again, mentally cross-referencing them with their flight path. "I count two flights of Cresh-Seven-Threes at a point-four deviation from our current trajectory. Interception recommended." Ancient, terribly slow fighters, C-73s. Practically antiques. Unless the pirates have modified them significantly, the recruits should be more than capable of dealing with them.

"Confirmed, Five," the squadron commander replied. "Besh, Cresh, they're all yours."

"Copy that, Lead." Muulog gently tilted his fighter down, going into a wide loop that would allow him to attack the C-73s from a better angle. He trusted that the three former trainees under his command would follow his lead.

Besh flight accelerated as a unit, closing the gap between them and the pirate fighters. Cresh flight did the same, coming at them from 'above' rather than 'below'. A fairly standard pincer maneuver, and pretty easy to see coming. The pirates seemed to think so too, as they broke apart into two groups and took evasive action.

"Besh, target the fighters designated Dorn-5, Dorn-6, and Dorn-7." Muulog quickly keyed in targeting telemetry data, spinning his fighter to keep the lead C-73 in his sights. When the crosshairs on his Interceptor's HUD went green, indicating a soft target lock, he opened fire.

The pirate rolled on his forward axis, narrowly avoiding Muulog's first salvo, but the latter was able to correct for the spin by aiming for the center of mass. Another set of bursts from the laser-tipped cannons and the pirate ship blew apart into a cloud of shrapnel.

Glancing back over at the readouts, he saw that Seven and Eight were spiraling after one of their targets, struggling to maintain a weapons lock, while Six was busy chasing after one of Cresh's targets. He sighed.

It was going to be a long day.
XO/CWO/Maroy/Silver 5/S:46 Jexxel/W:101 Blade/ISD Paragon/TF:A|2FL|SC|VEN|VE (=*A*=) [GCM] [CBV] [IG]x2 [MC2] [MC1] [VC:B] [LoM] [CC: P] [CC: W] [CC: D] [LC] [SoV]

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Drac
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Drac
 
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  RE: VENA: Through the Shattered Glass
November 17, 2016 2:19:29 PM    View the profile of Drac 
{In the Moorja system.}

Ships  appeared from hyperspace, and others shifted positions in reaction. The forces began converging and tension mounted as the capital ships of rival nations stared at one another across the empty void.

On the bridge of the Koom Valley, an order was issued, “Comm, Transmit packet D-1, Priority Extreme, restrictions override code Dorn, Cresh, Besh Niner Two Seven.”

The call for help went out, unnoticed by the other two forces in the system

----------

{At the outer edge of the Kinyen System.}

“As you can see, sir, we’re managing to keep our complement of TIEs in relatively good repair, given the trouble with the supply lines.” The speaker, a middle-aged human man with silver beginning to show through his brown hair at the temples, gestured at the nearby racks of TIE starfighters as the group crossed the catwalk. Maintenance techs and the occasional pilot moved about efficiently in the background, and the occasional ratcheting sound of a tool was heard echoing through the hangar.

The senior officer walking beside him nodded in response, looking over the first rack of TIEs with a critical eye as they passed. He’d had years of experience operating and maintaining these craft, and could tell that the other officer, the ship’s captain, was correct in his claims regarding the state of maintenance for the ship’s starfighter complement. They were indeed in relatively good shape.

“Thank you, Captain,” he replied, in the low, gravelly tones common to his species. He blinked, his bulbous eyes momentarily hidden behind dark blue skin, and continued, “What is that status of your ammunition stores for these craft?”

The ship’s captain, Commander Demetrius Tavar, answered smoothly, already prepared for the question, “Concussion missile and proton torpedo stores are currently at 63% of maximum, while proton bomb stores are at 87%. A resupply would be most welcome in the near future, sir, but we can provide our starfighters munitions for two, or perhaps three, serious engagements.”

Dracule “Drac” Mihawk nodded, “Excellent. We’ll see about getting you that resupply in the near future. For now, your combat systems and resources appear to be fully ready. Let us now move on to the engineering section.”

This work wasn’t boring, precisely, since he knew just how critically vital it was to be prepared, but Drac had to admit to himself that there was certainly a degree of mind-numbing repetitiveness about doing an inspection tour. It was one of the minutiae that complicated the lives of fleet officers, which he had become quite familiar with over the years.

Before they could move on to the engineering section, an alarm sounded and the ship’s intercom beeped an alert, “Captain Tavar, to the bridge!” The ship’s captain lifted his eyebrows and looked at Drac. He nodded back, and the pair immediately turned and hurried toward the turbolift.

When they arrived they were met by a communications officer, who saluted and directed them to the communication suite at the captain’s personal station. An emergency alert code was showing on the screen, and Tavar quickly entered his access code. He scanned the message quickly, then read it aloud, “Distress Signal D-1, from the Koom Valley. We have encountered an unexpected, superior New Republic Force. Request immediate reinforcement. Priority Extreme.”

Drac frowned, then turned to the comms officer who had remained nearby, “Where is the Koom Valley?”

“In the Moorja System, sir. They were on a supply run. We are the closest vessel available.”

Tavar looked over at Mihawk, “How would you like to play this, sir? We can remain in-system long enough to launch your shuttle if you wish.”

Drac shook his head, looking around the bridge of a ship he used to command himself, “Nonsense, Captain. A few minutes’ difference may save both lives and ships. Respond immediately- I will continue my inspection tour later.”

Thirty seconds later the Victory-class Star Destroyer they stood aboard had adjusted its heading to face out toward the galaxy’s center and the Moorja System. Before a full sixty seconds had elapsed, its hyperdrives engaged and the Dead Gun blurred with pseudo-motion and disappeared from the Kinyen System.
NCC/LCPT Drac/ISD II Halcyon Warrior/TF: Aurek/1Flt/FC/VEN/VE
Captain of the ISD II Halcyon Warrior
[SoA][MC1][MC2x2][NSR1][NT1][SoV][CBV][SoL][SWC][NSR][GCR][GWC][*AO*](=*A*=)(=*SA*=)
"Think Ackbar, but Imperial."

TRN/INI Drac/VEDJ
THX1138
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THX1138
 
[VE-ARMY] Corporal
 
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  RE: VENA: Through the Shattered Glass
November 18, 2016 2:31:42 PM    View the profile of THX1138 
Therex stepped into the cockpit, ducking under hanging wires and trying to not step on anything he might regret. Looking towards the front of the mangled mess, he noticed the pilot and Jax both slumped over their consoles. Praying, Therex reached out and checked their vitals.

Oh thank the maker...

Turning back to make his report to Mox, he wa suddenly hit by an overpowering stench. One that had punched past the crisped wires, and strained metal. It was metallic, and sour. Switching on his air filters, Therex tried not to gag as he looked across the cockpit to where he had laid the wounded Co-pilot. His body had been tossed every which way from the crash. His limbs were shattered and splayed at angles that he had never thought physically possible. The wounds that covered him had been ripped back open and were bleeding fresh, dark red blood. Suppressing the anger he was feeling, he gritted his teeth, closed his eyes, and just breathed. For years, his anger had gotten him into trouble, but Therex had learned a few tricks to help calm his urges. When he opened his eyes, he gave the man one last look, and turned back towards the main cabin.

“Mox, the pilot and Jax are unconscious… the co-pilot didn’t make it,” he shouted back, trying not to let his voice sound too distressed.

As he stepped out of the cockpit he saw the squad debating setting up a large gun to fire a hole through the cockpit and get the hell out. Heavy weapons was not something Therex studied much of, so he decided his input was not needed. Instead, he found his medical supplies and started checking the troopers man to man for any injuries. For the most part, it seemed like the pilot had done a damn good job keeping them in one piece. Glad for at least some good news, he settled back into his chair while the crew set up an E-WEB gun in the cockpit for their exit. Leaning back, he tried to push the dead man’s face out of his mind.

Death is inevitable. But why does it have to be so ugly?

His random thoughts were cut off when a massive boom followed by a thud shifted the ship.

“Time to go,” he asked, opening his eyes again. “I was just getting comfy.”
"He has his orders, and when a Chiss accepts orders he carries them out, period."

Smile for death

TRP/CPL THX-1138/4SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/Tadath/VEA/VE
[ES1][EW1][SoC][*QW 12*][*ESC*12*](ECA)(HeS)(2.1)(2.2)(A11)

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Raigen
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Raigen
 
[VE-NAVY] Senior Crewman
 
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  RE: VENA: Through the Shattered Glass
November 18, 2016 3:28:49 PM    View the profile of Raigen 
Desperation

    It was all that was going through Raigen’s mind as he raced down the corridors of the Mon Cal cruiser.  Tossing the New Republic helmet down one corridor, going another way. ‘Should throw them off, even for a second,’ he thought as black bantha leather boots carried him down the passageway.  The white bulkheads, seemingly endless, finally broke at the entrance to a medical bay.  Raigen flashed the code cylinder and slipped inside, and with a leveling of the blaster, quickly dispatched of a surprised medical Droid.  Turning, Raigen fired into the access panel adjacent the blast door and began to look around, desperate for anything that could improve his situation.  Medical tools, bacta packs, and bandages comprised most of the drawers, which Raigen went through by crudely removing and dumping on the floor.

    ‘Finally,’ he holstered the blaster, choosing a hydrospanner and a vibroblade scalpel , as well as some bandages, before climbing up onto an operating table, seeking entrance to the overhead compartments above the medical bay.  Light plastered panels designed for ease of access gave way willingly as Raigen began to push himself up into the cold, dark crawl spaces that housed, among other things, the power conduits and life support distribution pipes. With a swing of his legs, he willed the upper half of his body up, twisting to let his hind end sit on the edge.  It would take work, and a fair bit of uncomfortable contorting of his body, to fit neatly in the hatch before sliding the panel back in place.  Marines were already at the blast door.

    Raigen took deep breaths, attempting to slow his heart rate as he took the spanner to the blaster rifle, removing the cover and the heat shield.  Uncertainty was all that his thoughts could muster, activating the spanner to remove a cylindrical component, carefully setting it between the inner bulkhead and a power conduit so as not to fall and reveal his position.  A finger slid over the safety and bandage was woven around the trigger, engaging the weapon. Raigen exhaled in an anxious manner before the familiar sound of a breaching charge rang out through the medical bay.

    The metal blast door bent inward before giving way, shrapnel dissected the contents of the medical bay, the pieces not piercing the bulkheads imbedding itself in the durasteel walls. The air in the compartment was quickly forced out to any space it could find, tossing the operating table and workstations about with ease.  Raigen quickly found himself gasping, struggling to find his breath as the New Republic Marines flooded into the medbay.  He let out the slightest cough but heard nothing. The explosion had forced his ears to pop, equalizing the pressure in his head with the sudden, dramatic rise of pressure in the air around him.  Still ringing, blood dripping down from his earlobes, Raigen rolled over to peer through a shrapnel hole in the panel.

------------------------


        Line Captain Iccus Nakbuls stood confident and eager, a safe distance away as he watched his men breach and clear the medical bay.  A haunting white grin had begun to develop but was quickly dispatched as the ranking marine called the all clear. “WHAT?” The bellowing inquisition set the marines on edge as the captain willed his way past the armed guards on either side of the desolated blast doors.  “Search the room. ENSIGN!?!”

    The ensign entered the room, standing fast in front of his superior with another crisp salute. “Yes, Captain?” None too pleased with their failure to immediately apprehend the fugitive, he couldn’t fathom how disappointed his captain must feel.

    “Have your men search this compartment top to bottom, rip open the bulkheads if you have to. And bring me schematics of this section, I want to know if there is any way he could have escaped this medical bay.” More bellowed orders (orders that were, in fact, standard protocol) did nothing to set the ensign at ease.  However, the junior officer aye-aye’d in affirmation before directing his men and bringing a comlink up to chin level.

-------------------------


    Sound found its way back to the stowaway as he heard the ensign calling for a Droid to bring schematics to him, post haste.  Raigen closed his eyes.  Sound was not the only thing that had found him.  Looking down, blood was running down his calf and, although he could not yet feel it, was aware his leg had been lacerated by a piece of shrapnel.  There was no time to apply a bandage and less time to act.  Raigen slid open the panel and slid the blaster over to the edge, tipping it over and disabling the safety at the same time.  The pain in his leg came over him but it was hardly debilitating, likely a simple gash.  Raigen rolled over and covered his neck as the blaster fell to the deck.  The power pack immediately overloaded, sending a blast oh heat through the compartment, albeit notably smaller than the first and more akin to a concussion grenade.

    Ensign Graves seemed to receive the majority of the blast, plasma splashing out and burning through his uniform without impunity.  Almost all the marines and the Captain were thrown back, with one barely catching himself and collapsing to a knee.  Raigen slipped out of the panel, falling to a knee before reaching out to grab the nearest living person he could find.  He drug the white Mon Cal captain to his feel and held the vibrablade scalpel to his neck, desperately disregarding xenobiology for a moment as he took his hostage.

    “Now. . . It’s been a real nice voyage guys, but I have to say. . .I think this is where I get off.”
SCRW Raigen Tei-Yehn/FM 12/Cresh Flight/118th Wildfire Squadron/25th Desolation Wing/VSD-II Dead Gun/2nd Fleet Detached Force Alpha/2nd DEP Naval Warfare/VEN/VE (=*A*=)(=*SA*=)(=*BO*=)[VC:B][SWC][BRC][NS-2]
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Mox
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Mox
 
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  RE: VENA: Through the Shattered Glass
November 18, 2016 9:26:49 PM    View the profile of Mox 
Wasn’t expecting things to get this makeshift already…

Mox walked back into the passengers' bay.

“‘Rat, Dusk, get the body out of there. Put it in the back.” Mox ordered, gesturing to the appropriate soldiers.

“Rightey: Laz, Camper, you bring out the lass. And take it easy.” the soldier named dropped earlier as Skidz snickered as he watched the two stand up and make their way, before one of them retorted back.

Fierfek, this is like a bloody school. Mox thought as he made his way over to one of the passenger seats.

“Check your ComLinks people” he called out as he sat down. He could see Jax slowly make his way out of pilot’s cabin, helmet in one hand and massaging his temple with the other “Last thing we want is to end up out of contact.” He had his communication devices fail on him more than he would like, and he didn’t wish for it to happen unexpectedly on the first mission back in the Vast Empire.

The men of both squads reached for their equipment, and and Mox heard them check in. As they did, he brought out his datapad.

“Good.” Mox spoke into the ComLink, having turned off the helmet speakers, once all of his troopers checked in. “I’ve sent the fireteams designations over to you, it should display shortly on your HUD.”

He took a moment for his squad to receive and digest the information

“In addition, when we’re going to be leaving the shuttle, we’ll go in groups of five. Me, Zippy, Jax, Therex and Balac will go last. The rest of you will go in the first wave. We’ll support you from the shuttle. Hopefully the pirates haven’t reached us yet, assuming they even have sent anyone out.” the squad leader turned towards the younger PFC “Swamprat, I want you to go into the pilot’s cabin and keep a lookout from the window. Let me know immediately if you see any movement.”

“Roger that, sergeant.” 2nd Squad’s Stormtroopers also got up, seemingly having received the same orders.

Looking across his squad Mox thought if there was anything that he forgot. I don’t… think so.

The Harbinger Squad Leader was sitting down in a passenger chair as he watched Zippy and Jax work on the turret, with Lightray assisting where he could. The young man seemed eager to help, as if he found this whole endeavour fascinating. How did he pass psych-analysis? Mox thought as he took out his datapad and looked over the plan of attack. He’d heard the back’n’forth between the pilot and Jax, which implied that one of the shuttles was KIA’d mid-flight. 20 buckets down the gutter the resignated thought passed through his mind Bloody AA turrets, who could’ve predicted that?

After a tense several minutes, with the majority of the entrapped troopers spending the time simply watching the E-Web trio, Zippy called out.

“Mox, we’re ready.”

“Full power?”

The Lance Corporal nodded.

“Right guys, get back in here.” Mox ordered. “Did you see anything?”

“No, sergeant.” Swamprat replied. The 2nd’s stormtrooper shook his head in agreement.

Mox nodded and got around to standing behind Zippy and Jax.

“Ready up, first wave!” he called out. The main reason for using waves wasn’t to make the perimeter securing more efficient; that would make no sense. It was a tactic that would prevent the entirety of their force to be wiped out in case of an ambush. They were essentially being used as bait.

The five Harbingers huddled around the doorway, their main weapons in hand. The junior ones looked blatantly anxious, visibly glancing around, and their breathing getting noticeably faster.

“Fire!”

The E-Web let out a deafening sound, compounded by the airtight shuttle’s acoustics, and huge red bolt flew out of its barrel into the pilot’s cabin. An audible glass breaking could be heard, and the front wind-screen exploded outwards in a form of hundreds of shards.

“Go, go, go!” Mox ordered, shouting almost.

“Through the Shattered Glass we go…” Mox thought, praying that the pirates haven’t set up an ambush.
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Faithful 'til the End
Faithful? More like crazy...
SL/SSG Mox/1SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/VEA/VE
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If you're thinking of putting me in a leadership position, for the sake of the entity I would be leading, reconsider.
[This message has been edited by Mox (edited November 18, 2016 9:28:26 PM)]
Tetrarch
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  RE: VENA: Through the Shattered Glass
November 18, 2016 9:29:49 PM    View the profile of Tetrarch 
Swamprat had drawn picket duty. Which meant half standing, half crouching behind the flight panel and squinting out the window to see what awaited them. Hard enough when your attention was being sapped by the E-Web being set up behind you. As per usual, his imagination ran riot, expecting an itchy trigger finger or a malfunction of turret to take him out instead of the cockpit window. The swearing and muttering he heard didn’t help either.


“Sithspit, it stinks” he muttered to himself. The helmet couldn’t completely eliminate the smells present in the shuttle: hot air, stale vomit, not to mention the fresh corpse of their former co-pilot. The air purifiers and filtration in their helmets might be good but they weren’t good enough to remove stench. “Right guys, get back in here” came the call from their squad leader. He didn’t need to be told twice, he was moving as soon as he was told. “No, sergeant” he responded automatically  to the query, shaking his head for emphasis. Mox was already turning to focus on the heavy weapons team.


Swamprat bit back a sharp comment as a designation flashed up on his HUD marking him as part of the first wave. Why am I first? he thought resignedly. The tactical sense of it shot right over his head. All he knew was that he might be meeting his Maker a lot sooner than expected. He said nothing but just reluctantly moved into position. Feth.


The first fire-team selected to clear the shuttle stood or crouched nervously in waiting. They were clear of the E-Web, the fireteam hugging the walls left and right of the doorway. The turret fired and blasted open the cockpit window. “Go, go, go!” Scrambling and stumbling, they climbed out the front, half sliding, half falling to the ground. A second fire-team crouched in readiness using the cockpit as cover, rifles levelled to provide supporting fire for the sacrificial lambs they’d sent out ahead. It made sense. If there was organised resistance waiting, it would be madness to waste the entire command. It still didn’t reassure the ‘chosen’ ones. They had barely planted boots on soil before they were hitting the dirt.


No answering fire greeted them. Lying prone in the grass, they peeked forward nervously, fingers on triggers and bodies trembling. Their NCO rose to a kneeling position and made two quick jabbing motions with one hand, the other keeping a tight grip on their rifle. “You and you, left!”, “You two! Go right!”. They flashed a signal back to the cockpit before turning their attention forward. The stormtroopers split into two pairs, nervously rising to fan left and right. They moved in a half crouch, ready to hit the dirt the moment the first blaster fire opened up. Circling left and right around the crash site, they moved quickly to secure the perimeter.


Cathal’s steps became surer and more confident the more he moved. He was back dirtside and for the moment, the master of his fate. His teeth were drawn back in a wolfish smile, full of sheer joy at making it to the ground in one piece. So this is Moorja. He moved with calm, controlled steps, his eyes never stopping roving. He was back in his element.


Meanwhile the next fireteam was already exiting the shuttle. No one wanted to be trapped inside if there was opposition waiting. Then again no one wanted to leave the fragile safety the crashed spacecraft offered, storming right into the teeth of enemy fire. It lent them speed as they jumped out the front, one trooper swearing as he buckled his ankle badly. Their NCOs barked at them and spread them around the shuttle to strengthen the perimeter.


It didn’t take long to declare the area secure. The call came in over the comm, and they could finally see about getting the rest of the contingent to disembark, along with their treasured E-Web. Their plan had taken a knock but now they could regroup and go on the attack.
[STC]  Private 1st Class Cathal "Swamprat" Mckarthaigh.

[Navy] Leading Crewman Muireach "Tetrarch" Buide.
Zippy
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Zippy
 
[VE-ARMY] Lance Corporal
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  RE: VENA: Through the Shattered Glass
November 19, 2016 10:13:42 AM    View the profile of Zippy 
"Fire!"

Zippy heard the word loud and clear. There was no hesitation. Only commitment. As he pulled the trigger, the red bolt darted out of the cannon like a tie fighter at top speed. As it made impact, all you could hear was the deafening sound of the impact. The sound of glass falling to the ground and bits of burnt metal where the glass had been situated. To top that off, the stench was getting worse by the second. Dead co-pilot, rotting vomit, and the now smoking E-web, it was truly starting to shape up and be a real adventure. For a moment, he taken aback. He had heard the stories of the E-web, but he didn't know if it truly held up to it's devastating rumors. He had dabbled in all forms of heavy weapons, but the E-web wasn't something he had gotten his hands on. Rockets, nades, explosive charges, you name it. But this, this was truly a sight to behold.

"Go, go, go!" Zippy heard from his side. The time had finally come to get boots officially on the ground.

"Zippy, we'll be going last. Double check gear asap. This is it, Mox stated with a serious tone. There is no going back. Top off all gear now."

"So, we're bringing this E-Web right? Because I think I'm in love. Harbinger's kiss. Anyone like the name? Zippy stated with excitement."

"I think you may have a few screws loose after shooting this thing, but I'll help carry what I can, he over heard from his shoulder. Let me know what I can carry. Shouldn't be to bad with some of us breaking it up into different pieces, Jax motioned."

"If you're willing to help, I'm certainly not going to object, that's for sure. Would take a few of us to lug around this beast. Base of the turret, cannon, the power generator and the main power cable."

Jax, being the one mentioning this, seemed like he was fairly serious about helping.

"Let's make sure we are all set with the other gear before we start taking this with us boys. We still have a job to do." Mox motioned as they were kneeling down, ready to take the cannon apart.

As the other troopers made their way out of the shuttle, Zippy got a better look at the transport they had arrived in. Burnt wiring, bits and pieces of scrap metal and random assortments of gear laid about on the floor. Not to mention the corpse in the cockpit. He was ready to move and get on with this mission. They needed supplies no matter the cost. This was his chance to shine and Zippy knew mustering all of his strength was going to be key here. Not only for himself, but for everyone around him.

He had a lot of faith in his team, new and veterans alike. There was no time to pick and choose who he wanted to be by his side in a tough fight. Zippy knew he could count on these troopers through this mission. Everyone's moment would come when they truly revealed what they had to offer. And he was no different. Nothing less than his best. Every time.

Each second that passed as they remained in that metal box was one second more he wanted to get out of it. No more questions. No more concerns. It was time to move.

OOC:
566 words. Let's get this show rolling!
Lance Corporal Zippy
Private First Class of the VE Marine Corps
TRP/LCPL Zippy/1SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/VEA/VE [ECA] [LM]
Eclipse Squad
"Strike first. Fast, exact, secure.
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[This message has been edited by Zippy (edited November 21, 2016 7:24:36 AM)]
Mox
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Mox
 
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  RE: VENA: Through the Shattered Glass
November 19, 2016 7:10:40 PM    View the profile of Mox 
Mox calmly climbed out through the shattered glass of the shuttle’s windscreen, the E-Web cannon in his cybernetic arm and balancing himself with his right arm, his carbine slung across his shoulder. He was slowly followed by the remaining four Harbingers, each holding parts of the E-Web, with the exception of Therex who lightly held his main weapon in both arms.

“Perimeter secure, Mox.” Dusk’s voice came over the ComLink “No sign of any pirates.”

Mox clicked his comm in acknowledgment. The two squads were about 20 minutes late, but it was better than being dead. Walking over to one of Gamma Harbingers, he handed them the cannon and took out his datapad. The soldier buckled slightly under the weight, clearly not expecting it.

“Harbs, we’ll see you at the site.” the SL of 2nd called out, before motioning his squad to follow.

“Good luck.” Mox replied, before turning back to the datapad.

“Alright, squad, we gotta move. We’ll be advancing from the north side of the main road into the compound, about two clicks out from our… landing zone.” Mox flicked across the screens “Because we don’t have uplink with the other squads, the RoE remains the same. I don’t want us shooting up our own people, got it? If it’s white, hold your fire until you know it’s hostile.”

“Therex, how is our pilot?”

“Still out cold. She’s in recpos and breathing, and I don’t see any visible signs of trauma. Without a medbay or bacta we can’t do much else though.”

“Leave her then. We need to get to the compound ASAP. If it’s as you say, then she’ll wake up sooner or later.”

Putting his datapad away Mox looked up towards his troopers, all looking at him expectantly.

“Move out, Harbingers. Swamprat, Lightray, move up ahead and fan out. Any movement, and you let me know.”

The two soldiers nodded and the squad began their march.

==== roughly over 15 minutes later ====

“Fireteams.”

The squad immediately split into their prearranged groups, with Swamprat and Therex rallying behind Mox.

The Harbingers have been uneventfully marching through a forest, the sounds of birds and the wind being the only things filling the void. However now they’ve reached almost the end of the forest and they could see the compound itself. They could also, more importantly, hear the sounds of blaster and gunfire. It was obvious now that the compound was indeed hostile, and that the other Vast Empire forces have engaged. The forest itself was on a higher level than the compound, the clearing between the two entities existing at a slight descent.

Mox reached for his binoculars to survey the area before they advanced further. Closest to them there were two warehouses, opposite of each in other in respect of the main road. He saw a number of troopers further down the road, seemingly looking inwards towards the compound. There was also a huge tank, which seemed more like a mobile barrack. Weaponless… Mox thought as he zoomed into it.

“The northbound main road is lightly defended it would seem.” Mox said slowly. Turning towards the silos in the west section he spotted a figure on the nearest one. “Sniper on the northern silo however. Balac, you’re up.”

The Mandalorian walked to forest edge, laid down, opened up the E-45’s bipod and took aim. “Target.” Mox put away the binocs, and grasped his own E-45.

“Alpha, we move on my command. Fire at will, Balac.”

After a moment the sniper pulled the trigger. The bolt soared through the air, before disappearing in the distance, and the figure remained upright for a couple more seconds. It then collapsed.

“Move!” Mox ordered, and ran down into the clearing, Swamprat keeping up with him and Therex lagging slightly behind the two. Their target was the warehouse left of the road, closest to them. The clearing wasn’t the shortest one Around three hundred meters Mox thought as he kept an eye on the enemy tank. If they spot as now we’re dead. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to stop and go prone fast enough, not at this speed.

The sprint seemed eternal. After a good portion of a minute, they have finally reached the warehouse. Mox crouched down, trying to stabilise his breath, his fireteam copying his stance and also breathing heavily. There was no time to waste however.


“Beta, fall in.” he said into the ComLink as he reached the end of the building and peaked around the corner. “I don’t believe we’ve been spotted.” Turning around he crept towards the door on this side and gestured to Therex to cover him. When got into position, the squad leader slowly pressed on the handle, and opened the door.

“Clear.” the chiss reported

“Swamprat, take point.”
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Faithful 'til the End
Faithful? More like crazy...
SL/SSG Mox/1SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/VEA/VE
[DT] [RAWR] [ECA] [QW 12] (WtR) [ESC-12] [SoC] [AS-6] A10 (5.1) A17
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If you're thinking of putting me in a leadership position, for the sake of the entity I would be leading, reconsider.
[This message has been edited by Mox (edited November 19, 2016 7:30:16 PM)]
[This message has been edited by Mox (edited November 19, 2016 8:48:01 PM)]
Slasher
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Slasher
 
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  RE: VENA: Through the Shattered Glass
November 19, 2016 7:14:29 PM    View the profile of Slasher 
Please refer to the Discussion for facility layout and enemies initial maneuvering (you are not in comm range of the other imperials)
CPT Slasher | Chief of Naval Training


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Certifications, Exams, and Special Achievements

Nazgul Captains Own, Long Service Medal

Imperial Navy Special Warfare Combatant, Imperial Navy Imperial Marine
[This message has been edited by Slasher (edited November 19, 2016 8:05:11 PM)]
[This message has been edited by Slasher (edited December 6, 2016 7:04:36 PM)]
Tetrarch
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  RE: VENA: Through the Shattered Glass
November 19, 2016 8:49:33 PM    View the profile of Tetrarch 
Their guard didn’t drop but the Harbingers and their sister squad did relax a degree or two once the all clear sounded. The squads split up but theirs hung back to be briefed by Mox. Their squadleader was brief and to the point. Blue on blue seemed to be a personal bugbear of his. There was going to be no friendly fire on his watch. A couple of troopers shifted uncomfortably at the thought of leaving the pilot, but the reality was, she was probably safer here than going into action with them. Swamprat perked up as he was selected to be one of the two scouts. “Yes Sergeant!” he said with genuine enthusiasm. His mood had been improved by landing in woods, it wasn’t often he got to be around trees. Bloody Empire... ‘Oh rest assured that your talents will be used’ they told us... His next deployment would probably be to a desert planet.


He melted into the treeline, moving through the woods like a wraith. He could hardly contain his glee.


The march was uneventful. Ghosting only a couple of hundred metres ahead, Cathal came across no resistance though the sound of distant blasterfire threatened to get the wind up in all of them. Only fifteen minutes of marching and they were on site. “Swamprat here, visual on target” he breathed into his comm. He’d reached the edge of the forest and was in prime position to look down into the facility.


He held position, studying the cluster of buildings while the rest of the squad came up. Splitting into fireteams, they were silent while Mox scanned the compound with his binoculars. Eyes followed Balac expectantly as the hulking stormtrooper came forward and lay prone. Cathal let his gaze swing back to the distance they were going to have to sprint. Three hundred gakkin’ metres. If there’s a turret sighted in there, we’re dead A few seconds stretched into eternity but the blaster bolt sprang them all into action.


“Move!”. Swamprat sprinted down the hill, barely managing to keep up with his SL. His lungs burned and he panted like a dying dog, forcing his legs to keep pushing him onward. Almost….there! They flung themselves into cover, crouching against the warehouse wall. Heart hammering in his chest, Cathal’s breathing coming in shuddering gasps as he took deep breaths. Gripping his rifle tightly, he followed after Mox.


He had that copper taste in his mouth again, “Feth” he breathed. Mox opened the door and Therex gave the all clear. He took a deep breath at the next words. “Swamprat, take point”.He didn’t baulk though his stomach did another flip flop. The warehouse was packed with crates, it had a comforting feel. Cathal moved with one next to him at all times. Easy he told himself reassuringly, the fighting was happening on the other side of the base. Piece of piss-


He turned the corner and came face to face with a quartet of patrolling pirates. For a second, both sides stood, frozen in shock, mouths agape. No two of them were garbed or armed the same, but he was definitely sure of one thing. They weren’t Imperial.


Swamprat made a mild whimper and shoved his rifle butt tight into his shoulder. They were fast, he was faster. Dropping to a crouch, he shot one in the gut, the unarmoured pirate howling in agony and collapsing. He swung his aim left but they were already scattering. His blaster bolts singed only air. Now it was his turn to dive for cover as they opened up. He swore in Coilltean, keying his comm. “Contact!” he screamed into it, scrambling for something more secure. “CONTACT!”.
[STC]  Private 1st Class Cathal "Swamprat" Mckarthaigh.

[Navy] Leading Crewman Muireach "Tetrarch" Buide.
Raigen
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Raigen
 
[VE-NAVY] Senior Crewman
 
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  RE: VENA: Through the Shattered Glass
November 19, 2016 10:33:28 PM    View the profile of Raigen 
Ensign Kerr Grave’s charred body began to smell, the unpleasant mixture of singed hair and burnt flesh ruminating the medical bay.  Raigen had no time to notice, however, backing up toward the door as he made his demands, “Drop your weapons, all of you. . .I’ll slot his neck open without blinking.  Comlinks too.” The marines obeyed, setting their rifles on the ground, then their comlinks.  Raigen reached around to pull the code cylinder off the Captain’s dress uniform.  “You’ll stay in this medical bay until I’m out of sight or I’ll start cutting pieces off of him.”  Raigen pulled a blaster to him with his foot before forcing the captain to his knees and bending to pick it up with his off hand.  He dropped the vibroscalpel and pointed the blaster at the captain’s head before backing out of the medical bay and pulling the Captain with him by his collar.

    “You’ll hang for this, or worse you filthy pirate.” Captain Nakbuls cursed as he was drug down the passageways to the turbolift.  A swipe of the code cylinder would active the mechanism, closing the blast doors and sending them up to another level.  Exiting the turbolift he swiped the code cylinder again and initiated a level-wide lockdown.

    “Computer terminals? Where are they?” Raigen pressed the end of the blaster against Icuss’s skull as if to emphasize his resolve.  The captain coughed as the collar pulled against his neck. He merely pointed toward a hatch labeled hanger control. “Excellent,” Raigen remarked, moving toward the hatch with his ward.  Two surprised but unarmed controllers spun to meet a swift end as Raigen fired into them with little discrimination, an elbow wrapped tightly around the older captain who could merely squirm.  The code cylinder again proved useful as Raigen began issuing a routine.

    “What are you doing?”

    Raigen chuckled, laughed even, “I’m running a calibration program on your tractor beams and hanger turrets.  They’ll be out of service long enough for me to escape.”

    “You won’t make it out of the system.  If our ships don’t get you, the Imperial’s will.”  The captain choked against the pirate’s arm.  Raigen thought for a moment, smirking, then smiling.

“I think I rather like my chances with the Imperials captain.  Sweet dreams.” Raigen swung the butt of the rifle down, crushing into Iccus Nakbul’s skull with a loud thud and sending him limp to the floor.  He finished his final routine and bolted from the control center and into the supply hanger toward the X-Wing, a red, R3 protocol Droid already being loaded as per Raigen’s instructions.  “Here we go again.”


-------------------------------------------------------


    Raigen climbed the boarding ladder into the snub fighter with haste, turning to kick the ladder off the ship before sliding into the seat and initiating the preflight checks, “We’re in this together now, R3. I hope your self preservation programming is well written.  What systems are online. . .(replying to a series of whirs and grinding) no shields, no hyperdrive. . .well, that’s nothing to write home about.” The canopy of the Incom T65B closed with a gasp as the cockpit sealed and life support came on line.  Raigen toggled off the inertial dampeners and engaged the grav lifts, lifting the ship off its skids.  A tug on the stick and a slide of the hand was responded with a roar from the sunlight engines.  Landing gear was retracted and the X-wing banked, shooting toward and out of the hanger with disregard for the damage the engine’s turbines would create.  Raigen was in space now, free from the Mon Cali cruiser; and, for the life of him, couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t over just yet.
SCRW Raigen Tei-Yehn/FM 12/Cresh Flight/118th Wildfire Squadron/25th Desolation Wing/VSD-II Dead Gun/2nd Fleet Detached Force Alpha/2nd DEP Naval Warfare/VEN/VE (=*A*=)(=*SA*=)(=*BO*=)[VC:B][SWC][BRC][NS-2]
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Mox
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Mox
 
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  RE: VENA: Through the Shattered Glass
November 21, 2016 7:47:32 PM    View the profile of Mox 
Mox treaded softly behind Swamprat, placing his steps in a way that reduced their noise. They couldn’t be sure whether the warehouse was clear and he would rather not have all the neighbouring pirates pour on top of them. Glancing back he could see through the wall the HUD markers of Beta approaching the warehouse.

Turning into the corner, Swamprat suddenly stopped. Mox opened his mouth to say something, but before he had the chance the Private fell to his knee and opened fire.

“Contact… CONTACT!!!” he started yelling, as he fell onto his bottom and into cover. The enemy slugs and blaster bolts filled the space the SCOPEtrooper was filling a moment ago.

Frak Mox thought. He gestured Therex ahead, the chiss until now closing the rear. The squad leader himself took step back and turned around, raising his rifle in case the pirates decided to flank them. He needed a moment to think.

“Beta, are you alright?”

“Yeah, we made it out of their line of sight just as the private started yelling.”

Mox nodded. At least two of the Harbinger fireteams made it across before the fighting started, and none were caught in the middle of the clearing.

“Get in here, now, you’re sitting ducks if a tank flanks you.” Mox ordered as he reached the end of the row of crates they’ve been at. “Gamma, have you been spotted?”

“Negative.” Balac’s near-robotic voice came through.

Mox peaked out around the corner, his rifle’s scope pressed against his visor. He spotted the pirates several shelves away “Zip, how soon can you get the E-Web running?”

“Erm… phuff… 7 minutes?” the Lance Corporal replied, not sounding too sure of himself

Way too long. Mox thought as walked out into the open, slowly, in a crouching stance. He needed to get closer, and with less obstacles between him and his target. Luckily the pirate seemingly had no idea that Mox was on his flank, taking potshots with his slugthrower pistol in the rest of Alpha’s direction. “It’ll do. Get on it. We need to immobilise that base-on-wheels they have driving around.”

“Understood, sergeant. We’ll get it done.” Zippy’s excitement could be heard reentering his voice.

“Gamma out.” Balac cut the comm out.

As he reached the obstructing shelves Mox slid the barrel of the E-45 in between boxes, aimed and fired two shots. Both seared the pirate’s chest, the man yelping loudly in agony, his knees giving way. Mox pulled back behind cover before any of the remaining pirates could fire back.

Need to get back to Alpha. Not a lot of cover here… he thought as he glanced up, planning possible climbing routes.
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Dusk
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Dusk
 
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  RE: VENA: Through the Shattered Glass
November 21, 2016 8:41:21 PM    View the profile of Dusk 
Heavy breathing filled her sealed helmet, vision narrowed on the warehouse ahead of her. She could see Fireteam Auresh enter the building, she could also see the tank on the road in the corner of her eye ‘If that thing just glances at us, we’re most likely dead.’ That thought gave her the drive to pump her legs faster for the final stretch to the wall. She slammed her body against it and instantly had her carbine out. Shortly after, the two soldiers under her command joined her, the three of them catching their breath. Slowing her breathing as fast as her body could muster she nodded at the two with her. “Ready?” They each nodded an affirmative as they readied weapons.


A moment after, shouting could be heard from inside the warehouse followed shortly by blaster fire. There was returned fire before Mox called over the comms. “Beta, are you alright?”


Jay’sha called back “Yeah, we made it out of their line of sight just as the private started yelling.”


“Get in here, now, you’re sitting ducks if a tank flanks you.”


The NCO looked at her troopers, “Mox wants us inside; you two go in and support them, I’ll watch our backs.” She gestured with for them to move before taking up a position on the corner of the building.


With a few clicks on her rifle she patched the scope feed through her visor. Holding it around the corner she spotted at least 8 pirates moving towards the rear of the building weapons drawn. “Gamma, we’ve got pirates moving up towards the rear, I’m heading into the warehouse but be aware of hostiles closing on you.”


“Rodger that.” The gruff mando replied curtly. With that, the Sergeant rushed to get inside the warehouse and support the rest of her squad.


The doors were open so the NCO ran straight through and slid behind cover with Lightray, only drawing a slug or two in her direction. She looked at him “How many?” The man took a moment to reply as he leaned out of cover to spray a few bolts in the pirates direction. “Just three of them left, one got taken out as the firefight started.” He pulled back just in time for a slug to imbed itself in the side of the crate they were hid behind. Jay’sha peeked her head overtop the crate to make note of where the pirates were before fully standing out to bring her carbine to bear, snapping of a three round burst into the space one of the pirates heads had just occupied. Satisfied with the current loll in the back in forth, she fully capitalized on this and dashed to better cover and opened up in short bursts to keep the enemies heads down. She barked through comms at her soldiers. “Come on! Advance!”

OOC:
WC: 475
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Smile!!! Tomorrow will be worse.

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NormalGuyNamed
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  RE: VENA: Through the Shattered Glass
November 22, 2016 9:46:00 PM    View the profile of NormalGuyNamed 
Jett was following closely behind the shuttle, one Warsprite between him and the shuttle. He had just started to fire, when the shuttle dived. He hadn’t noticed the turbolaser array, but luckily there was a Warsprite between him and the laser. He and the rest of his flight swung left, narrowly avoiding the laser. There were still a few more Warsprites about, but there didn’t seem to be much casualties as far as TIEs went.


Then he noticed the Shuttle wreckage. It seems like the TIES didn’t do such a great job clearing the LZ. That was on him and his wing, but they had to keep fighting.


That’s when his Squadron Leader came over comms “Regroup.” He heard him say. Jett and his flight did just that. They swung around and began to fly in formation with the rest of the wing, who had apparently dispatched the rest of the Warsprites along the way. They all seemed to be intact, thanks to their modified TIEs.


“What should we target, sir,” one of his squadmates said, echoing Jett’s own thoughts.


“Hit any vehicles as best as possible, take turns with strafing runs. Stay safe and avoid that turbolaser,” the squad leader announced.


“Aye sir!” his entire squadron said as a group. They then split off into wings and began to complete strafing runs at around once a minute.


It was hard tell everything that got hit, but he definitely saw a tactical take a few decent blasts. Damn, we’re doing alright. Jett thought to himself as he swung back around for a second run. “Are comms usually this quiet, or is it just the ion storms?” Jett said out loud, hoping for a response.


He didn’t get one.
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Mox
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  RE: VENA: Through the Shattered Glass
November 24, 2016 5:14:46 PM    View the profile of Mox 
Mox grabbed the shelf rig he took cover behind and shook. Not very sturdy he thought as it wobbled. Can’t climb on this. The occasional slug being thrown his way didn’t worry him: he assumed that the armour would be more than capable of taking a few small-calibre slug shots. Turning around he looked over the row of stacks of crates on his left. He spotted multiple ways up to the top. The only problem was that the shelf serving as his cover was shorter than the top of crate, meaning that shots in his direction would most likely strike him.

Shaking instead he decided to fall back to his fireteam Don’t make the mistakes of your youth, you fool He glanced out to get a rough idea of the remaining pirates’ positions, before firing off a few of shots and running back to the row of crates that was leading towards Swamprat and Therex. A few slugs trailed him along his journey, but they missed.

Another scream. Another pirate down. Mox thought as he reached his fireteam mates, but as he did a sudden thud rang through the warehouse.

Shit... Mox thought as he heard a rang of footsteps and more slug-fire echo through the warehouse More pirates…

“Aurek, with me. Stay low, and hold your fire.” Mox ordered as he passed them, going across to the next piece of cover. Of the first set of pirates only one remained unharmed, and she didn’t seem too emboldened by her reinforcements. At least not yet. “Besh, draw their fire. We’ll try to get a good count of the extras, and maybe even flank them if they don’t notice us in our shiny white armour.” he heard a comm click in reply. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Swamprat still immobile behind his original piece of cover, his helmet pointed in Mox’s direction, as if he was staring. “Get over here, ‘Rat, we have no time to lose.”

The trio moved forward as low as they could while sticking to the northern side of the warehouse, hugging what opaque cover they could. Given his count from the forest, there could be ten or more opponents in the warehouse now, and he didn’t know what weapons they possessed. And while six stormtroopers could easily dispatch ten vagabonds, Mox knew better than to get cocky.

Let’s hope they haven’t brought any heavy weaponry.
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If you're thinking of putting me in a leadership position, for the sake of the entity I would be leading, reconsider.
Karash
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Karash
 
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  RE: VENA: Through the Shattered Glass
November 24, 2016 9:06:43 PM    View the profile of Karash 
OOC:
Apologies but this post does not further any part of the story, it is pure selfish CD. It was written to simply help me decide what I wanted write. So feel free to ignore it.


Taking all things into consideration, the past few days had left Lance Corporal Haldar with mixed feelings. Up until a few days ago, he had been a simple Private doing menial and bureaucratic work for a series of uninspiring, pencil pushing Officers. It was not the life that the posters and holovids promised him when he was a teenager. Haldar wanted to be one of those troopers that sat in a bar recounting tales of wiping out entire platoons of New Republic scum with his bare hands; instead all Imperial life had offered him was an occasionally difficult bit of filing.

One mistake in training had meant his dreams had been unfulfilled for years. That one mistake may have involved a seriously damaged tank, three destroyed speeders, six seriously injured cadets and one Training Sergeant losing an eye but who, in all honesty, really needs two eyes? For that one little mishap Haldar was not allowed to be a frontline Stormtrooper like he wanted or at least that was the case up until a few days ago, when he received word that his request for a transfer had finally been accepted. He was going to immediately be put into a squad and sent on a mission, just like he had always wanted.

Not only was he going to finally see some action but he was also being promoted to Lance Corporal for ‘exemplary service and first rate dedication to the Empire’. Haldar knew that this would be the making of him, his patients had paid off and the Empire was finally going to see what an underused asset he was. Never again would he be forced to do office work for some bloated Colonel in the Communications Corp or have to listen to that weird Gunnery Sergeant in the Medical Corp rattle on about accident prone Generals. It of course never even crossed Haldar’s mind that the only reason he was being transferred was that his chosen branch of the Empire was running dangerously low on bodies and he was just being used as another piece of cannon fodder. His Empire was glorious, firm but fair and always ready to reward those who had proved themselves willing and able.

Over the following days the new Lance Corporal had briefly gotten to know his new squad mates, most of whom seemed to be perfectly reasonable if a little battle worn. The SL of the squad lived up to all Haldar’s boyhood expectations; the man was quiet, gruff and horribly scarred. Haldar thought that his new SL could tell several fantastic stories about past military escapades but he could never find the right excuse to ask about them, besides the man did not appear to be the chatty sort.

Up until the point when the Squad touched down on the planet those few days had been the very best days of Haldar’s life. From almost the exact moment that they stepped off the transport, the squad was being shot at by the enemy and shouted at by other Imperials. He briefly felt a rush of excitement as he entered the battlefield but the feeling did not last. Within what seemed like mere seconds Halder’s shiny white armour was tarnished by pieces of his SL’s torso. He had always expected death to be a lot more exciting than what he witnessed, he thought there would be a bit of screaming or staggering, instead his now former SL just sort of crumpled into a heap. Haldar briefly regretted not asking the man about his service history but he was comforted by the realisation that he now had his own story to tell.

Looking around Haldar could see that his squad were all scrambling around trying to get behind various forms of makeshift cover. Instinctively he seemed to be doing the same. This was clearly what he was destined to do, everything just seemed to happen so fluidly and without any thought. There were various hand signals going on between his squad, from what he understood they were going to try and move forward whilst engaging the enemy. Haldar had always considered himself to be a reasonably good shot but what he really wanted to do was get up close and personal with the enemy. He wanted to kill someone with his bare hands whilst saying something incredibly witty and patriotic just like in the dramatic holovids that filled his teenage years.

Despite a few minor setbacks, Lance Corporal Haldar was delighted with the way things were turning out. Sure, having pieces of a war hero splattered on your helmet was not great for morale but everything else was going great. In that moment Haldar was certain that the Empire was going to win even if they were outgunned; nothing would be able to defeat him and his comrades, not if they were feeling anywhere near as confident and powerful as him.

However, the Universe is not kind to people like Lance Corporal Haldar. It likes to build them up, just to watch them fall; Haldar was at that moment happier than he had ever been, so it was time for him to come crashing down.

“Gren…” Was the start of a word that did not need finishing to promote action amongst the squad

As Haldar began to leap out of the way a supernatural force seemed to take hold of him and it tried to push him even further away from the deafening blast that emanated from where he was just standing. For what felt like an age he soared gracefully through the air, taking stock of his life. All things considered he was confident that good things were coming his way, after all he had been a loyal servant of the Empire for a few years now and he was proving himself a capable frontline serviceman. Not every Stormtrooper could be blasted several feet away from where they were standing, have severe burns as well as several broken bones and still think military life was great.

As Lance Corporal Haldar lost consciousness he thought of two things. The first thought was about the kind of speech he would make when he received his promotion and medal; he was certain he would be rewarded for his pivotal role in securing the Empire’s victory. Secondly, he wondered if that strange medic, Gunnery Sergeant Norgath, would be the one to treat his injuries. He sincerely hoped not, a person like that could put a real dampener on an otherwise wonderful war.
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Tetrarch
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  RE: VENA: Through the Shattered Glass
November 27, 2016 8:13:15 PM    View the profile of Tetrarch 
Feck.


That was all he could think. A lost battle and hyperspace jump. A shuttle flight through contested space. A crash landing. It had all led up to this. Being curled up behind rapidly degrading cover while trading potshots with pirates. He swore and gripped his rifle tighter, trying to minimise his bulk.


There was a comforting scream in response to his squad leader’s fire and Swamprat nodded. The moment the suppressing fire slackened, he made a dash to the next piece of cover. The trio began to work their way along the northern section of the warehouse, moving from each group of crates to another.


A ragged volley of slug-fire opened up. It was blind and mis aimed but Cathal still cringed. Reinforcements had arrived and they were determined to hunt out the Imperials that they knew were hunkered down somewhere in the warehouse. Both sides were hunting each other warily now.


He peeked round a corner and found himself perfectly perpendicular to an opposing trio of pirates. He had the drop on them and he fired from the hip. He killed one, winged a second, and would have gotten the third if a second fire-team hadn’t spotted him and fired a salvo back.


“Swamprat, I’m pinned” he keyed in on his mic, his voice calm despite his heart threatening to tear out of his chest. “If you work around to flank-feck” he broke off with a curse. A slug-round nearly took a chunk out of his foot but that wasn’t what had caused the outburst. “They’ve got something mechanised near the warehouse door, looks big and-” he was cut off again as a few rounds came perilously close. A snarl forming, he stuck his rifle round the crate and held the trigger down, letting off a stream of blaster bolts.


He wasn’t sure if he’d hit anything but it sure made him feel better. He ejected the spent blaster pack and slammed in a fresh one. For once his hands weren’t shaking.
[STC]  Private 1st Class Cathal "Swamprat" Mckarthaigh.

[Navy] Leading Crewman Muireach "Tetrarch" Buide.
Maroy
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  RE: VENA: Through the Shattered Glass
November 28, 2016 11:04:57 AM    View the profile of Maroy 
The Najarkan evening was calm as ever. The sun, a bright yellow speck amid the sea of stars, slowly finished its descent from the sky. The ape-like Kichicolia in the forests down below squawked angrily, fleeing the wilderbeasts or tree vipers that had disturbed them. The wind blew across the allacrete walkway, whipping across her face and roaring past her ears. The wind was cold, and biting, but... familiar. Reassuring.

Juvi Krant leaned against the railing, gazing out at the jungle with eyes well-adjusted to the dim light. Why would she even considering leaving, she wondered? Here, on this floating allacrete island amid a sea of trees... This was her home.

A sudden tremor shook the walkway beneath her, and her feet gave way. She impacted the hard metal surface face-first, badly bruising her jaw. She felt numb. Her body refused to move. The metal beneath her, cold only moments before, grew scaldingly hot. The Kichicolia’s cries grew louder, and she smelled the sickening scent of burning flesh.

Fire?

Blaster fire?


Juvi’s eyelids sluggishly peeled themselves open. Everything was a blur, and her face hurt like hell. As her eyes focused, she realized she was sprawled out on the deck of a shuttle, wires sparking barely inches from her face, burning her skin. What she'd thought were the screams of wild animals were actually the screech of broken machinery, blaster fire, and distant explosions. She'd come to on the fringe of a warzone.

With a sudden burst of adrenaline, she pulled herself to a standing position, leaning on the console for support. The events of the mission played through her head, from being assigned to the Loose Latch to careening towards the planet’s surface. She had no memory of crashing, but it had obviously happened. The shuttle was completely wrecked; even the viewport, normally one of the sturdiest individual pieces, had been completely shattered. She turned about, intending to check on her passengers, when she saw the body.

Darron’s lifeless corpse, cut, broken, and shattered in a dozen unnatural ways, was splayed unceremoniously against one wall of the shuttle, outlined by a huge splatter of blood. Juvi immediately retched, vomiting up rations she couldn’t even recall eating. “Oh gods,” she gasped out, before gagging again. Through sheer force of will, she turned away and stepped past Darron to the passenger cabin. She tried, and failed, to block the image from her mind. If only I’d… If only I’d stopped to make sure he was secure before... before… Tears began welling up in her eyes.

She thought she was prepared to face death. She was not.

Blinking away the tears, she assessed the situation. By the looks of it, the soldiers had all survived, or at least they’d left no bodies behind. If they completed their mission, maybe… Maybe Darron’s death would mean something.

She wondered if her gunner was okay.

She drew her standard-issue pistol from her leg holster, under no illusions about how effective it would actually be against an armored pirate. Still, maybe she could take one down, if they attacked the shuttle. Maybe she could avenge Darron.

Maybe her death could mean something too.
XO/CWO/Maroy/Silver 5/S:46 Jexxel/W:101 Blade/ISD Paragon/TF:A|2FL|SC|VEN|VE (=*A*=) [GCM] [CBV] [IG]x2 [MC2] [MC1] [VC:B] [LoM] [CC: P] [CC: W] [CC: D] [LC] [SoV]

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[This message has been edited by Maroy (edited November 29, 2016 4:09:26 AM)]
Raigen
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  RE: VENA: Through the Shattered Glass
November 28, 2016 4:43:59 PM    View the profile of Raigen 
“CHUBA!  ArrThree, try hailing the Imperial Cruiser, “ Raigen cursed as he set the x foils to flight configuration and powered across the expanse toward the four squadrons of New Republic vessels.  The pirate strapped himself into the flight seat, turning on the targeting computer and pulling back on the stick as he was level and behind the Y-Wings.  “ArrThree, When we’re on their ass, lock on to the rear starboard flight and lock onto the bombers to the right and left of my targets.” Raigen, looking to use this element of surprise, positioned the X-Wing behind the Squadron of Y-Wings and just below, out of their top-mounted turrets’ firing arc. 

    “Yeah, I hear their hails, ignore it. Can you send them a distress ping?” Raigen opened the x foils and scanned the field of bombers with his eyes as an element of X-Wings broke off from their squadron to circle around and tail him. “We’re gonna roll port and split the squadron, ArrThree, divert power to rear shields after I fire.  Give these boys a taste of my version of the Ackbar Slash, lock on now ArrThree,” The ANq 3.6 Tracking computer began blinking and beeping wildly as it locked on to two of the Y-Wing bombers on either side of the one Raigen was tailing. Raigen squeezed down on the laser cannon trigger, four arcs of consecutive red blasts ripping into the ion jet engines of the Y-Wing ahead of him.  Fractions of a second after beginning his attack, an unyielding tone from the flight computer indicated a lock, all three Y wings visible on his screen with the two flanking images encircled and overlapped with a red crosshairs.  A slide of his thumb to the red button on his flight stick would launch proton torpedoes from their respective tubes.

    The torpedoes would jettison themselves out of the tube, turning and stalking their marks before exploding into the deflector shields.  A shaped nuclear blast ripped through the ships’ shields, and both Y-Wings would erupt in a cloud of heat, light, and protons as the shields failed and the blast reached the bomber’s payloads.  Two ships, exploding around Raigen’s main target, forced it to evade the proton blasts, pulling up as the X-Wing’s laser cannons lit up the Chempat Deflector/Ray shields with unyielding fire.  Raigen would follow, the X-Wing more maneuverable than the bomber, by pulling back on his stick and sending the nose of the x-wing toward the Y-wing for another moment.  It’s shields would have been down by now, at least.

    That was enough, he thought, as he jerked the stick right moving into a displacement roll and punched the accelerator throttle forward.  The X-Wing turned belly up, rolling over into the middle of the Y-Wing Squadron’s delta shaped formation. The trailing snub fighters had little time to react as lasers and missiles erupted from a friendly craft into their comrades.  Spheres of proton induced reaction in front of them, they broke left to follow this traitor through the Arrow of Y-Wings that was already accelerating away from them.  Ion turrets would crisscross their path, struggling to react to the chaos ensuing as Raigen split their formation with the faster, more agile snubfighter.  Both X-Wings would take ion blasts to their sides as they toggled their foils to attack position.

    Speeding past the rear flights and weave of ion fire trailing him, Raigen would strafe two of the bomber’s in the lead flight before pushing the stick forward and half looping back for the rear flight.  The squadron would scramble, flanking flights breaking away from the formation.  Raigen rolled his craft to aim his canopy toward the enemy, watching as the pursuing fighters broke to follow.  “ArrThree, reroute power to engines, let’s Boom and Zoom!”  The pirate opened fire on the remaining two Y Wings well before his craft was in range.  The red glow of the quad laser cannons rained on the slower element as he made his approach, X-Wing’s in tow.  Energy blasts splattered on the shields of one ship but tore through the titanium alloy on the other, separating one of its ion jet engines from the fuselage and disabling the craft.

    The rogue fighter pulled up, evading it’s pursuers as Raigen watched their pips on his sensors. “They stay together like that, they won’t catch me,” he remarked with a certain self-satisfaction only a fool or a seasoned pilot could enjoy.  “Keep power on the engines, ArrThree, They can’t follow me through these break loops and keep distance,” and he was right.  Raigen would roll his craft and perform a quarter loop before leveling again, the roll and break the other way.  Each time, the trailing element would readjust to keep their formation and lose a few meters until Raigen was comfortable they couldn’t get off any more accurate shots.  He pointed his fighter toward the battle. “We’ll lose em in there,”
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