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Jegora
ComNet Disciple
 
Jegora
 
[VE-ARMY] Brigadier General
[VE-DJO] Sith Vitiator
[VE-ICS] Pirate Lord
[VE-NAVY] Ensign
[VE-VEHC] Brigadier General*
 
Post Number:  2159
Total Posts:  2160
Joined:  Oct 2007
Status:  Offline
  RE: Hoist the Colors
November 22, 2016 8:48:58 PM    View the profile of Jegora 
Jegora heard the durasteel door slide shut behind him with an audible click. Sighing to himself, he made his way to the communications terminal that was hidden away against one of the bulkheads. This was not a call he was looking forward to making, but surprisingly he was less disgusted at having to participate in this crazy scheme than he had expected. The booze was helping, surely, but it was more than that. As much as Jegora told himself he had changed, he had to admit that he was starting to enjoy himself. There was a freedom here, an honesty to these backstabbing freelancers and privateers that was quickly reminding Jegora of why he had pursued this life in the first place.

Kicking the communications terminal open, Jegora quickly keyed the appropriate identification tag; he had memorized the code long ago when he had served as a high-ranking officer in the Stormtrooper Corps. There was a rumble as the machine went to work, then a burst of static, and then finally a flash of blue light as the hologram projector came to life. All of a sudden Jegora found himself facing a ghost straight out of his past.

Aurelia Cain had once served as a flag officer in the Imperial Navy, commanding a Star Destroyer task force active in anti-Rebel operations throughout the mid-Rim. Her allegiance had transferred to Lotaith in the aftermath of the resurgence of the Republic, but her hatred for those she still considered rebels ran deep. The frigate and squadron guarding the scuttled star destroyer was too much for Osk to handle, but Aurelia and her star destroyer flotilla would have little problem.

There was a moment of silence as Aurelia’s hologram stood silently, no doubt studying Jegora’s image from the bridge of her own star destroyer. Then, just as the tension started to build, Aurelia broke the silence.

“Brigadier General Jegora Fal,” Aurelia said, her voice cold but not hostile. “This is unexpected. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Jegora tried to grin, hoping the look didn’t appear as sickly as it felt. As Aurelia’s expression remained unchanged, he dropped the grin and decided to change tactics.

“Read Admiral,” Jegora said, clearing his throat. “It’s, uh, been a long time.”

Again Aurelia’s face remain unchanged. Jegora faltered a bit, and Aurelia looked off to the side impatiently.

“I am a busy woman, Fal. What do you want?”

Before he lost his nerve, Jegora pushed forward. “I’m representing a group of freelancers who have information you might find valuable. For the right price.”

Aurelia was silent again for a long moment, glancing off to the side at what Jegora could only assume was her second officer. After another pause she nodded slightly.

“What’s the information?” she demanded.

Jegora was shaking his head before she had even finished. “Price first, and then information.”

Aurelia actually cracked a smile. Or at least the corner of her mouth twitched. “What if the information is no good?”

Jegora cracked a smile, this one genuine. “That’s the risk you take,” he quipped. “Besides, when I have ever let you down?”

Aurelia’s face went stony again and Jegora winced internally. He knew he had made a mistake but there was nothing he could do now. He pushed on.

“You’ll find the price fair and I know you can afford it: 25,000, in advance.”

Now it was Aurelia’s turn to shake her head. “I’m not putting up that kind of cash in advance for something I know nothing about. Ten in advance, fifteen after. And a favor to be named later.”

Jegora hesitated. His hesitation was both genuine and for appearances. On one hand, he didn’t want to appear too eager or Aurelia might get suspicious. He also no longer had the authority to negotiate on behalf of the Company, especially promising favors. On the other hand, ten thousand was better than a kick in the ass, and the true prize was the scuttled star destroyer itself. And if Aurelia caught them looting what she would undoubtedly view as her star destroyer wreck, she probably wouldn’t want to call in that favor anyways.

Eventually Jegora nodded. “Acceptable. Transmitting instructions for payment now.”

There was a pause as Aurelia conferred with someone else on her bridge. Soon Jegora’s own terminal dinged, indicating that payment had been received. Jegora grinned again, this time with teeth.

“There’s a scuttled star destroyer drifting in deep space—I thought you’d find that useful. And, to sweeten the pot, there’s a light New Republic contingent holding down the fort until salvage operations begin,” Jegora explained. “Coordinates are on their way.”

For the first time during the conversation Aurelia truly smiled, and Jegora felt a cold shiver run down his back. The grin was entirely feral, the look of a predator who has suddenly discovered new prey. Jegora suddenly had second thoughts about this whole plan. Aurelia would take their double cross personally, and she would harbor a grudge. Jegora knew this for certain. Still, it was too late to back out now.

“Always a pleasure, Fal,” Aurelia said, that terrifying grin still spread across her face. “Always.”

With that she cut the transmission, leaving Jegora suddenly alone in the room. With a sigh he turned to return to the bridge and to the others.

________________________________________________


“What do you mean this is a bad idea,” Visha asked coldly. “It’s a little too late for that now, we’ve already accepted payment.”

Jegora shrugged, unwilling or unable to provide the captain of the Hound what she wanted, which was certainty.

“All I’m saying is that we need to be very, very careful,” Jegora said after a moment.

Kami snorted at that, causing Jegora to blink in surprise. “Well, if there’s one thing we’re good at it’s being careful,” she muttered.

Everyone on the bridge chuckled, even Jegora, but the sound was forced.

“Besides,” Kami continued, “how do you know that she’ll take our little plan personally?”

Jegora hesitated again. This was the one part of this plan he hadn’t revealed to anyone, but now it seemed inevitable. “Our relationship may not have been strictly…professional,” he murmured.

There was silence on the bridge, and then everyone started swearing at once. Jegora mostly ignored them, instead looking around for more booze. The others would get over it. Probably.
Jegora Fal

Dark Lord of the Sith
Sith Vitiator

DLoS | SVT Jegora | Marauders | Eagle | Sith | VEDJ | VE  [SoY] [KC:1]


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Sniping101
ComNet Sage
 
Sniping101
 
[VE-ARMY] First Sergeant
[VE-ICS] Pirate King
[VE-VEEC] Journalist
 
Post Number:  3935
Total Posts:  3936
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Status:  Offline
  RE: Hoist the Colors
November 23, 2016 10:34:03 PM    View the profile of Sniping101 
Snipes stormed out of the Hound. He kicked one of his security, a smaller man with a spikey head, on his way out. Just in the shin. His shin was armored, Snipes’ foot was bare. The harder of the two won, and Snipes limped off.

Pain or no pain, Snipes stormed in any direction that was away from the ship, looking for anything that might catch his ire. Nobody looked at him. Most of the hanger, most of the ship overall, wasn’t Osk, and at this point probably didn’t remember, if they’d ever known, what Osk even was. Snipes was just another crazy person standing in the middle of the hanger, and anyone that spent any time in a shadowport like The Bucket knew not to engage the crazy. He looked around, swiveling his head between hunched shoulders. He was looking for prey, daring someone, anyone, to look him in the eyes.

Once he realized nobody was going to acknowledge him, his frustration grew. He tilted his head back and yelled at nothing in particular. Which really didn’t help him look any saner. He turned and stormed towards the row of airspeeders. He pushed people when they got in his way, but the way purpose in his walk spoke of murder, and few people put up much complaint, if any did at all; Snipes wasn’t paying attention.

The weequay driver that had taken Kami and him to the bridge stood next to a bothan in greasy coveralls. They were staring at the broken speeder that had brought them back to the hanger and shaking their heads in silence. At some point one of them, probably the one in coveralls, had wheeled a tool chest over, but it was unopened. Snipes assumed, with what little of his brain that wasn’t consumed by blind rage, that they were trying to figure out how best to go about fixing it, or throwing it over the side. Either one worked for Snipes.

They didn’t see him coming.

He picked up a three foot breaker bar from where it leaned against one of the other speeders and pushed between the two beings. The first hit was aimed squarely at the thruster that had gone out first. The next one was aimed at nothing in particular, or perhaps just everything. In Snipes mind his problem wasn’t with the speeder, it was with existence itself.

“Fuck this thing!” He yelled.

It was with how far Osk had fallen.

“And fuck this other thing!”

It was with people making plans for Osk without including him.

“I don’t even know what this is!”

Without even asking him.

“But fuck it too!”

He had called them. He had had a plan.

“Don’t need no fuckin’ mirrors!”

They hadn’t even asked.

“And fuck this lever!”

Snipes screamed at the speeder, and with each successive yell, and each successive hit, he felt more and more ridiculous until, eventually, he had to stop and laugh at himself. It was almost mirthless, his laughter. He started as a quiet shaking of his shoulders and built, and built, until his head was thrown back, if only to get the roar of his laughter out all the quicker. He laughed until tears made canyons of cleanliness across his otherwise dirty face. He didn’t bother wiping them this time.

When he was done, he noticed something of a crowd had developed, and there was even money changing hands. He looked around, tossed the breaker bar over his shoulder and into the remains of the speeder. It landed with a satisfying crash, and he pushed his way through the crowd back to the Hound.

A zabrak man and a human woman sat slightly to the left of the gangplank, playing cards across a crate littered with cigarettes, credit chits, and various small items. The man’s face still carried the roundness of youth and the frustration scrawled across it was a rookie mistake. The woman wasn’t old by any means, but contrasted with the man, she looked complete, he looked like he was still baking. The look of disinterest she wore was the look of somebody who knew how much time they had and were amazed people could still find ways to waste it.

“You! Bored one!” Snipes yelled, pointing at the woman.

She looked between her companion and Snipes, her eyes growing large and the look of disinterest slipping away. She pointed at herself.

“Yes you. Where the hell is your boss?”

“He was over there,” She said, throwing her thumb over her shoulder to where the crowd was just starting to dissipate.

“Well go get him,” Snipes said.

“Why?”

Snipes blood began to boil again. He stepped closer to her.

“I may be long in the tooth, but I’m not gods damned toothless, just get it done.” Snipes turned to the zabrak, “And you. You stand in front of this goddamned gangplank. If a weequay comes by, make excuses. We’ll pay him later. If he tries to force his way on board, shoot him. In the face.”

“Yes, uh, your majesty.”

Snipes nodded and stalked into the ship. Kami and Visha had done the right thing. He knew that. He knew he was being selfish. Knowing it didn’t make it sting any less. Snipes knew damn well that he hadn’t been any condition to plot a course to the bathroom, much less a time sensitive salvage run.

Snipes moved through the belly of the Hound like a cat. Even old and disheveled, his motions were fluid, almost rolling. Perhaps that was why Fury the Gurrcat had taken to him. They were of a kind. The crew stepped out of his way if they were in it and gave him a short, respectful, nod before going on about their business. The ship was far more. . .more, of everything, than it had been in some time. They were getting ready to leave. Snipes smiled.

He reached the bridge and nobody looked up from their stations. He sat in his throne, moving this way and that until he reached the maximum level of comfort available in a chair that was long past its prime. When he was done, and comfortable, he looked up at Visha.

“Details?” He asked.

Visha stepped away from where she’d been talking to one of the crew and handed Snipes a datapad.

“We’re leaving in 20.” She said.

“Good.”
{Comnet Hermit}
-=Wraith PRIDE=- - Former Member - 3 years.
VE Smoker Association
The few, The proud, The CrAZy RAIDERS.
----------------------------------------------
TRP/FSG Sniping101/3SQD/2PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/VEA/VE[LoR][IH][BoA][CDSx2][CoR][ES1][EW1][CoS][GS][GRP][RoT][SCA][MRT] -So Very Retired-
Author/JRN Snipeth/Lotaith/VET/VE -Disbanded-
King/Pirate Lord Sniping101/Throne/The Osk Company/Osk 91
----------------------------------------------
"In a world without gold we might have been heroes!" - Edward Thatch


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Kami
ComNet Expert
 
Kami
 
[VE-ARMY] 1st Wiggler
[VE-DJO] Krath Pontifex
[VE-ICS] Pirate Lord
[VE-VEMC] 2nd Lieutenant
 
Post Number:  1880
Total Posts:  1883
Joined:  Mar 2004
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  RE: Hoist the Colors
November 24, 2016 4:13:23 AM    View the profile of Kami 
“Your friend” Visha told Kami as she walked back onto the bridge. “Has shuttled out to the YZ-2500 and reports that he’s ready to go.”

“And the King?” Kami asked. Even Visha’s flat refusal to acknowledge the Ship Faced by name failed to lift her spirits.

The muscles of Visha’s jaw bunched before she answered. “Haven’t heard anything.”

Kami strode forward to the large viewports that spanned the front of the bridge. Her gaze tracked over the expanse of hangar as if she could pluck Snipes out from the hordes of milling figures. Perhaps once, in what seemed a lifetime ago, she may have been able to. The King of Osk91 had been so magnetic that he had rarely travelled without a small circus trailing at his heels. Freelancers had been present, yes, but before the Paladins scoured the world and rocked the Company those freelancers had been outnumbered by loyalists.

As she continued to scan the hangar Kami fixated on a small battered transport as it moved through the magnetic shield. The transport hovered for a moment before extending rusted landing gear and settling into place beneath the shadow of the Dead Man’s Hand. The ramp extended and three women ambled out, all with gleaming pale hair, trailed by a lanky human male at several meters.

Kami felt as though someone had reached into her chest and socked her in the heart. She pulled in a shaky breath and continued to watch the small group as they veered around a pop-up bar and turned towards the Hound. The soldier in her was mentally noting each flash of features, the slide and step of their gait and the visible detail of their clothing. It couldn’t be the Katash sisters. Not in the ass end of space.

A sudden hush from the bridge snapped Kami’s head around.

The King had returned.

He stalked forward on long legs, his head swivelling as he took in the details of the men and women perched behind consoles. The Hound’s crew remained focused under the weight of his gaze, only daring to sneak furtive glances once the King had spun about and crossed to his throne.

For the first time since Kami had landed he was without bottle in hand.

“Details?” he asked as he settled himself.

Visha stood forward and handed the King a datapad. On it was the slightly less clusterfucked version of Snipes plan that his Captain’s had patched together. Now complete with a vengeful Imperial Warlord courtesy of Jegora.

“We’re leaving in twenty,” Visha interjected as the King’s attention flickered to the pad.

“Good,” Snipes looked again at the datapad grasped in his right hand. Then at his left, which was empty.

“Now. Where’s all the rum gone?”

---

The Imperious drifted, a white arrow head illuminated against the pitch of deep space and a glowing red star. Above the shredded stern of the vessel, its facade deeply scored with laser fire, the distant planet of Denon was barely visible. If one was to travel closer they might have seen the grey lines that crisscrossed every inch of the planet's surface - great gleaming towers that represented the growing corporate might of the Inner Rim conglomerate.

Of course, in order to travel closer, one would have to cross paths with the Frigate stolidly blocking the way. The Nebulon-B looked fresh from the shipyard, new coat of paint stamped proudly with a blue crest within a circle of stars.

In the black curtain of space on the far end of the star, hidden by the giant's bulk, there was a flash of sudden movement. A CR-90 Corvette materialised followed a split second later by a YV-2500 that frog-hopped along in the wake of its companion. Both ships slowed, then came to a halt, thrusters kindling every few minutes to combat the gravitational pull of the sun.

"Any sign of your girlfriend?" Visha asked from the bridge of the Hound.

"She's not my girlfriend." Jegora responded through gritted teeth. He paused, glanced at the scanners he was monitoring, then grudgingly continued. "And no, not yet."

Kami, from where she was standing next to the throne of the King, thumbed the short-range communicator in her hand to establish a link to the Ship Faced. It was hardly an eloquent solution, maintaining the tenuous point of contact would require the two ships to stay in dangerous proximity to each other, but Osk were up against military grade equipment. On both sides.

"Report," Kami said.

There was an ear-splitting crackle of static before Relto's voice sounded.

"Still in one piece." There was a pause, followed by what sounded like an explosion of steam and a wave of foul swearing. "...for now."

"Stay in position." Kami caught Jegora's gaze. Held it. "We move as soon as Cain makes an entrance."
|| Retired ||
[LoR][CoR][IG][GCA][BC][BM][CDS][EW][ES][GRP][GS]
------------------------
|| Krath Pontifex || Krath Order ||
DLoK/KP Kami Sharpe/Krath/Shades/Raven L-01/Dark Jedi Order/Vast Empire [PO]
------------------------
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[This message has been edited by Kami (edited November 24, 2016 4:22:18 AM)]
Aeos
ComNet Sage
 
Aeos
 
[VE-ARMY] Captain
[VE-DJO] Dark Jedi Warrior
[VE-ICS] Pirate Overseer
[VE-VEEC] Engineer
 
Post Number:  3138
Total Posts:  3141
Joined:  May 2005
Status:  Offline
  RE: Hoist the Colors
November 27, 2016 3:39:12 PM    View the profile of Aeos 
"Well this is a familiar sight." Havock murmured limping at Aeos's side as they descended the ramp of the Bitch and touched down floor of the hangar. Aeos paused a moment to gain control of her sway which failed to convince Havock of her sister's sobriety.
Aeos snorted and shook her head.
"Which means some of the gang should be upstairs with the King. Shall we go poke in?"
Havock grinned impishly.
"It would be good to see what the old man is up to nowadays hey."
"Agreed.  Millie, we're missioning up to the bridge. We'll be back in a bit." Havock said to Millie who along with the rest of the Bitchs crew already started performing their routine check of the ship.
"Awesome, so you guys are joining us for the job!?"

"What job?"

----

"Come on Haf, this could be just what we need to break into our status of defecation."
"Defection. You're drunk, still delirious from that oxygen deprivation and running on adrenaline of surviving."  Havock muttered exacerbated.

Around them the hangar was bustling with all forms of life. guttural and pitched commands melting into a lively buzz brimming with expectation and profit. The two of them were drawing more stares than what Havock was comfortable with. Of course they would, still decked out in their Imperial uniforms, rumpled and torn, Imperial nonetheless. Aeos was still swaying, oblivious to some of the burlier types encroaching on them, fingers resting easily on holstered pistols.

"Imperials are not welcome here." a voice growled.
"We're not Imperials, just came from a costume party on another ship." Aeos sing-songed.
Havock groaned face-palming her forehead. Aeos was simply just terrible at being casual as opposed to her usual prim and proper self. Quite frankly, a bit humiliating even.

"Ayee, your whiskey tolerance is several retarded. You know that?"

"We're here to see the King, if you don't mind giving some direction. Just came in with the Bitch."  Havock said turning back to the pirates leering at them dangerously. Hands that have starter inching closer to them slumped back, the owners recognizing the name of the ship.

"I'll escort you." one twileki grumbled with a guttural correlian accent.

---

The state of the haggard King was a sobering moment for Aeos. His frame limply spilling over the frame of his worn 'throne' whilst he tugged more rum out of his bottle as he eyed them. His eyes were bloodshot and misty. Around him his guards stood, eyeing the two Imperials warily if not murderously.

"Who?" he grumbled at Visha.
"The Katash sisters King. Imperials" She said again with a crisp accentuation on their surname. There was a quiet moment of suspense as everyone waited for the King's memory to unbug itself from the rum and welcome them.  Even Kami and Jegora were eyeing them warily suppressing familiarities to be expressed at a later moment. Aeos shrugged. Both those two were not exactly famous for their welcoming personalities. Kami as usual was a open as a carved piece of stone whilst Jegora seems to have shrunken the gigantic presence Aeos recalled of him.

Havock frowned catching Aeos' eye. Even if they were surrounded by some former allies, it did not mean they were not in dangerous territory. Only some were former allies. Most of the crew were pure-bred pirates and did not take easily to bastards. She was still swaying internally with creeping headache nudging in as well. Perhaps it was not the best idea to gobble down that whiskey. Her senses were a bit dulled and she struggled to focus.

"Katash....Katash......KATASH!" The fog cleared in his eyes momentarily and a mischievous spark.
Some of the suspense ebbed away at the King's jovial yet coughing laughter. For a moment it seemed like he was trying to get up from his throne, but then he simply slumped back into the crevice. The effort clearly taking second priority to drinking.

"Welcome aboard! What brings my favourite pair of sisters here?"
Aeos coughed, nervously stepping forward. For a moment she hesitated. No going back now.

"I dunno bout Havi, but I'm here for a job." Aeos said, trying to maintain a casual devil-may care tone in her voice.  Those who knew Aeos chuckled at her request. The King, the loudest.

"You? Joining OSK. My dear Captain. You're amusing, and we've had good times. But I need shit. We need stuff. If you don't have stuff for me, then you are useless to us."

Aeos breathed, closed her eyes briefly and procured a datapad from her torn uniform's pockets.
"Security codes and access details of the Imperial supply ports I know off. I was doing logistics a few weeks ago."

"Visha, do we need anything of those?" The King asked to his right-hand.
The woman nodded sternly.
"It's useful granted it's not a trap."

"It's not. I need a new income, and I don't think Empire is interested in helping me." Aeos said with a bitter bite.

"You're not the type to switch loyalties Aeos. It's against your code."
Aeos glared at Kami fiercely. Icy blue eyes meeting an emerald flash of indifferent.
"Loyalties to factions are meaningless. I get that now. I'm not interested in loyalty. The Empire doesn't give a shit about the people. So why should I stay loyal to that?"

"Honestly,  no one gives a shit here Aeos."

"At least you're not pretending."

Snipes nodded sagely his head bobbing up and down, the rum following the rhythm of the movement to his mouth.

"It's settled!"  he exclaimed.

The one guard at his left threw the King a dirty look and shook his head before stepping closer to the King with a unmerited confidence in crossing Snipes' boundary.

"Sire, we have too much Imperials on this ship already." the man spat, glaring at Kami and Jegora's direction. The King coughed, his lungs drowning in whatever foul fluids and contents he has been drinking and smoking.

"I don't give two shits about your opinion. It is settled." Snipes replied gesturing towards the sisters with rum sploshing out of the bottle.

"Sire, the men are not comfortable with this already, you're being a drunken fool making these decisio-"
A sharp sizzling red light seared through his torso. The human guard gasped clutching at the wound as he looked at Aeos in surprise and anger. Nobody moved to help him however. Only the King could command it, and right now the King seemed more focussed on Aeos and Havock than the dying bodyguard next to him. Aeos holstered her blaster pistol and eyed the guard. now slumping to the floor.

"The King does not need your disrespect." She murmured with a shrug. She ignored Havock's icy eyes as she stepped towards the throne. Imperials required records to check when accepting new recruits. Pirates however had a whole different way of doing it. They wanted to see the talk do a walk. And she was going to do the walk. She didn't have anything to lose at this point.

"So, any positions available?"

http://www.vastempire.com/wiki/index.php?title=Aeos
[LoR][ESC1][ES2C][CoR][CoS][SC][EW:1][RCoD][GRoM][GRP][CCA][GC][KAD][MRT]

Qualified Combat Engineer
SM|DJR Aeos|Krath|Shades|Raven 5|VEDJ

CPO_Aeos/(=*A*=)][MC1](=*SA*=)
[This message has been edited by Aeos (edited November 27, 2016 3:59:10 PM)]
[This message has been edited by Aeos (edited November 27, 2016 3:59:53 PM)]
[This message has been edited by Aeos (edited November 27, 2016 4:01:38 PM)]
[This message has been edited by Aeos (edited November 27, 2016 4:08:46 PM)]
Eviscares
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Eviscares
 
[VE-ARMY] Sergeant
 
Post Number:  444
Total Posts:  445
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Status:  Offline
  RE: Hoist the Colors
November 27, 2016 5:05:25 PM    View the profile of Eviscares 
He came to, and immediately regretted it. His body hurt, and the rancid smell in the cage didn't do anything to help. His mouth felt like he had licked a Bantha from gut to gullet, and tasted worse.
Aching and wishing for water, or a blaster bolt to the head he sat up. The rotgut had done a number on him, and even if he had had a choice in the matter, he would have opted for throwing up. After the first wave of dizziness had cleared together with the contents of his stomach he realized something. The sound had changed. This wasn't a ship in a hangar anymore, but instead it was apparently underway. The stillness of docking had been replaced by the almost relaxing sound of engines humming along through hyperspace.
The lights were on in the cargo hold, but apparently there was no one here.
Eviscares stood up, using the wall as a support and patted himself down. His weapons were gone, as were his credits and, rather surprisingly, his boots. Pirates, he mused, and in his mind formulated various curses regarding the people that had done this to him, their pets, mothers, and everyone they knew. This helped. He got angry, and at least while being angry he didn't hurt as much.
The sound of a door opening broke him out of his reverie, and he moved to the gate of the container turned crate, peeking through one of the openings.
Clearly he was still lying on the floor. And clearly he was dreaming. That was the only explanation why Aeos had just walked through the door and was heading towards the cage.
This was cruel joke. But considering that he had drunk something that was most probably intended to clean fighters, it shouldn't have come as a surprise. She would disappear again.
Then the door to the cage opened, and she stood in front of him, five feet and 4 inches of seething rage.
"You look like shit!", Zasati said. And before Evis could come up with a witty answer to this figment of his imagination she had slapped him twice.
She had slapped him. It stung. Realization set in, and he was even more at a loss now. That was when she decided to give him a tentative hug.
"Ae, we really gotta stop meeting like this...", he said, while reciprocating the gesture, and she let go off him.
"HE wants to see you now.", she said before turning around, whatever warmth there had been a second before suddenly gone.
Aeos led the way, and Evis followed as fast as he could. Walking helped, walking was good. By the time they reached the bridge his thoughts were almost coherent. Which was all the better, because the second they walked in, Snipes got up from his throne. For a man so lost to the bottle his movements were surprisingly fluid, as he crossed the distance between the two of them.
Standing an inch or two at most from Eviscares he snarled:"You are supposed to be dead."
"You are supposed to be mad.", Evis retorted.
"Are you?"
"No, are you?"
"Probably."
That did it. The Kings chest started moving up and down, and accompanied by the odour of a distillery a roaring laugh escaped his mouth. For the second time in a short span Evis found himself in a hug, this one being not very tentative.
"Why are you here?", Snipes asked, and, being dimly aware of the others, including Kami and the Katash sisters, staring on in disbelief, D'kaleth replied:"Well, you summoned me, said there was a debt to pay. Mind telling me what is going on?"
The, most probly rather mad, king let go of him, walked off towards his throne again, and after sprawling over the ragged thing, said:"Well, funny story, after our Business had gone arse up, and you had vanished, and all had gone to hell, I suddenly received reports about someone matching your description being smuggled about. So... I asked around, got a pic, and well... I decided to buy off your debt. Which means... your ass is mine. So, welcome aboard. Also, did you bring any smokes?"
Former Jester Squad
VE Smoker Association
IronHorseSquad forever in my heart!
-=Retired=-
TR/SGT_Eviscares/3SQD/2PLT/1COM/1RGT/1BAT/VEA/Tadath[LoR]
Inso
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Inso
 
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  RE: Hoist the Colors
November 27, 2016 6:02:17 PM    View the profile of Inso 
“Drop us two points down and reduce forward thrust by seven marks,” Relto purred. Inso was sat on uncomfortable chair next to the pilot. The faux leather was peeling and cold bare metal was pressed to his skin in several places.

By contrast Relto had installed a massive swivel chair behind - and raised slightly above - the main console. He laid across it, sideways, legs draped across the arm. [i]His[/] chair had no discernable flaws in its carefully stitched leather covers.

“I suppose that puts the Osk ship between us and that frigate?” Inso asked. Their pilot was a sullustan who seemed to Inso to have particularly delicate hands.

“Ah my friend I cannot expect you to understand tactics. If our freighter suffers even minor damage we may not be able to store the cargo. Therefore it makes the most sense to keep out of the pine of fire.”

Inso sighed and gave a subtle shake of the head.

“I wonder… A wedge shaped star destroyer. The symbol of the empire. Imperial-class. Called the Imperious. Can that really be true? Perhaps when the Emperor died they merely scuttled their ship in a fit of depression eh?”

Inso didn't really follow the joke, but turned towards a blinking light on his console. “Cronau radiation,” he called. “The imperials are here to reclaim their very… imperial ship.” Relto looked to the aqualish, a look of confusion on his face. “If you're in an empire and don't have an Emperor doesn't that make your political system…” He froze and waved dismissively at Inso before spinning his chair away from the aqualish. No point wasting his musings.

“The plan now? Tactician?”

“An Inso with an insolent tone. Hah! Start our approach. But keep the Hound between us and that frigate!”
Inso Khel
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Jegora
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Jegora
 
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  RE: Hoist the Colors
November 28, 2016 9:26:13 PM    View the profile of Jegora 
Jegora paced the bridge of the Hound, nervously waiting for Aurelia to show. The Osk ships had been in position for a couple of hours, waiting impatiently for the show to start. They had been maintaining distance, avoiding active scanning and relying on passive sensors to monitor activity around the scuttled star destroyer. Luckily for Osk the New Republic frigate was maintaining close proximity to the damaged star destroyer, relying on the accompanying fighter squadron to screen the surrounding space against any intruders. Overall the New Republic forces were fairly lazy in their patrols, and that had worked in Osk’s favor thus far, but Jegora didn’t know how long they could avoid detection. They were playing a risky game, simply waiting in-system until Aurelia showed up, but they had to be ready when the opportunity finally arose.

One of the crew on the bridge swore, breaking the tense silence that had developed in the last several minutes. Jegora started at the sound, looking around and locating an unkempt man of middling height standing only a few feet away. Jegora didn’t recognize the pirate, but that wasn’t unexpected; there were only a few people on the bridge he did recognize.

“How do we even know this Imperial bitch is going to show up?” the nameless crewman ranted. Jegora clenched a fist, but he knew that the man was just saying what everyone else was thinking. There were several more moments of silence.

The same crewman broke the silence again. “Seriously, where is this cun--”

A rush of anger filled Jegora and he reacted without thinking, years of unused combat expertise coming back in an instant. Moving so abruptly that the offending crewman had no time to react, Jegora kicked out at the other man’s knee. It was almost a casual move, but there was tremendous force behind the blow. The man’s knee buckled, the joint shattering, but Jegora wasn’t done. As the man fell to the ground, his face twisted in pain, Jegora rotated and drove his elbow into the man’s face. The pirate’s nose shattered, spraying blood everywhere, and Jegora felt the man’s jaw and cheekbones crumple under the force of the blow. The man slumped to the ground, unconscious. Everyone on the bridge stared at Jegora, some in shock and some in amusement.

“Not your girlfriend, huh?” Kami asked, her voice dry. Jegora ignored her and resumed his pacing as a couple of other crewman carried the unconscious pirate off of the bridge and down to the infirmary.

“He wasn’t wrong, you know,” one of the Katash sisters mumbled. “How do we know she’s going to show?”

“She’ll show,” Jegora ground out, his voice little more than a growl. “She wouldn’t wait--she’ll be here any minute.”

“Radiation signatures!” someone on the bridge reported, and Jegora sighed a breath of relief. “Ships dropping out of hyperspace.”

Visha leapt into action. “Sit-rep ASAP,” she demanded. “Let’s see what our Imperial friends have planned.”

“Negative Captain,” one of the crew reported. “Ships aren’t Imperial, they’re New Republic. Two more Nebulon-B frigates and two Strike-class cruisers escorting a salvage flotilla.”

No it was Visha’s turn to swear, a rare emotional outburst from the normally stoic captain. “Have we been made?”

There was a moment delay, and then one of the crew responded in the negative. “They’re not undertaking any additional active scanning, although they are deploying another squadron of X-Wings and a flight of A-Wings to do a deep sweep. Looks like they’ll be on top of us in ten or fifteen minutes.”

Visha’s jaw tightened, but she had control of herself again. She keyed the her comlink and opened a crew-wide channel. “All hands to stations, hold and prepare for contact.”

She turned to Kami and Jegora. “This is your crazy plan,” she said to no one in-particular. “What do we do now?”

Jegora had nothing, but he was saved by yet another report from the bridge crew. “More hyperspace signals,” the navigator reported. “Imperials this time.”

“What are we looking at?” Visha queried.

Imperial II-class Star Destroyer and two Carrack-class light cruisers,” came the response. “New Republic capital ships are moving to engage; star destroyer has deployed fighters, fighters screens have made contact.”

“She’s going to hunt us down and kill us for this,” Jegora murmured. Some people on the bridge laughed, but Jegora made eye contact with Kami who was looking similarly worried.

Just then the King, who had remained unusually quiet, spoke up. “Continue with the plan!” he ordered. “They’re distracted, and so we move now. Go!”
Jegora Fal

Dark Lord of the Sith
Sith Vitiator

DLoS | SVT Jegora | Marauders | Eagle | Sith | VEDJ | VE  [SoY] [KC:1]


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[This message has been edited by Jegora (edited November 28, 2016 9:28:18 PM)]
Kami
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  RE: Hoist the Colors
November 28, 2016 10:15:55 PM    View the profile of Kami 
Chaos as always.

The thought came unbidden as Kami gazed at the smoking corpse of one of the King's personal guard.

Felix Rye was livid, lips pulled back in a rictus, one smouldering eye focused on Aeos as she conversed in low tones with Snipes. Sensing his rage, and fuelled by it, the remainder of the guard present had shifted perceptibly to stand at Rye's side.

Aeos had misjudged. Badly. Rye and his lot may have been small time thugs. But even thugs had strength in numbers.

Kami tore her eyes away from the scene and back to the viewport. She wouldn't let the surprise appearance of the Katash sisters, and a phantasm ex-squadmate, distract from the looming threat of the heist. Not when Cain had yet to make an appearance.

There was a brush of air as Jegora appeared at her shoulder. The muscles of his jaw were bunched, the fingers of one hand clenched white in a bloodied fist. The strength of his obvious anxiety, peaked in the destruction of the mouthy crew member, was enough to set off warning bells. Osk might pull the heist, but was the cost of the payout worth the vengeance of Aurelia Cain?

Kami was about to say so, the words forming on her lips, before she realised how little they mattered. Jegora knew. Now she knew. The rest...the rest would realise in time.

She settled for a dry quip instead of dooming words of prophecy. "Not your girlfriend, huh?"

Jegora ignored her and paced away, a rolling ball of tension and lean muscle.

Moments later and the bridge exploded into action at the arrival of the Republic reinforcements. The Imps followed right on their heels, eyeballs and squints boiling out of the belly of Cain's flagship even as the NR forces swung about to meet her. The female warlord was tenacious then. Capable of reacting quickly, and decisively, when required.

Fucking great.

"She's going to kill us," Jegora murmured, barely audible over the hive of the bridge.

The King was now standing on his throne, waving a bottle impatiently at Visha and Kami. "Continue with the plan! They're distracted, so we move now! Go!"

Visha began barking orders as Kami raised the link to her lips.

"That's our sign to move," Kami told Relto. "No theatrics. Nice and close and steady."

Relto double clicked acknowledgement of the message, and a minute later both the Hound and the Ship Faced accelerated forwards.

"Prepare boarding party!" The King wobbled precariously on top of his throne, yelling to be heard over the bedlam. A manic gleam flickered across his face, likely fanned by the break in lethargy and promise of potential violence. "If there's any 'pubs lurking on that wreck, they'll rue the day they knocked their mothers legs open!"

There was a roar of bawdy laughter followed by a stampede as Rye and most of the guard streaked out of the bridge and towards the boarding lock. The King capered along in their midst, bottle held high like a flag.

Kami and Jegora were slower to follow.

Kami mentally checked her gear, the process as natural as breathing after years of drill sergeants frothing in her face.

Jegora's hesitation was more subtle. Almost insidious. An internal warring that had him frozen until Kami layed a gentle hand on one wrist. He recoiled as if struck, tendons showing in his neck as he fought the instinctive urge to lash out at her.

Unperturbed, Kami kept her hand steady. "You sure you can do this?"

Visha materialised next to the pair and saved Jegora from a response.

"Keep him safe," she told Kami. "He's not...I mean he..."

"Hasn't done this in a while?" Kami offered, tone sympathetic.

"Right." Visha snatched at the phrase like a life line. Turned it brisk and analytical. "And Rye is no Kelevra."

Kami nodded. "We'll stay with him."
|| Retired ||
[LoR][CoR][IG][GCA][BC][BM][CDS][EW][ES][GRP][GS]
------------------------
|| Krath Pontifex || Krath Order ||
DLoK/KP Kami Sharpe/Krath/Shades/Raven L-01/Dark Jedi Order/Vast Empire [PO]
------------------------
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[This message has been edited by Kami (edited November 28, 2016 10:18:42 PM)]
[This message has been edited by Kami (edited November 28, 2016 10:23:37 PM)]
Valthir
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  RE: Hoist the Colors
November 29, 2016 11:34:05 AM    View the profile of Valthir 
It had been rather trivial to sneak aboard. Val was almost disappointed that he hadn’t been challenged by anyone upon entering or since. A haphazard nest of swirling activity, this disorganization a stark contrast to the Imperial way of life. Disorganization wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but he had always admired the ruthless efficiency that was ingrained in the Empire. Things got done.

In comparison, nobody on this damned ship seemed to know what was going on. He hadn’t quite worked up the courage to make it to the bridge and see how long he could stay there before being recognized as a stranger, but he had been keeping his ears to the ground. The things that he had picked up on were quite interesting.

A mad King, a seemingly mythic figure that nobody really knew, but each seemed to idolize in their own way. An inner circle of power that surrounded him, the outlet through which his insane ideas and plans were molded and given life. And a job, one to breathe life into the venture that was once known as Osk. Of course, it was still technically Osk, but from what he could gather, it was now rather insubstantial. A shadow of its former self. A disorganized organization.

Val shifted a bit where he sat, enveloped in faint darkness borne from broken light fixtures that had not quite been fixed yet. He was sure it was on the to-do list, but for now it suited him just fine. Nobody seemed to know, or even really care, that he was there. He had found similar perches all around the ship and had made a mental map of them, doing a rotation throughout the day as he made his observations. It was all quite interesting to see, as patterns in the flow of traffic and the various beings that inhabited certain areas of the ship came to light. The larger significance of that escaped him, but then again, he didn’t possess the knowledge of the past or even the present of Osk.

But he did know one thing. Patience would be rewarded in time. A watcher would turn to an active participant and he would finally have something to do. Something to fill his time, to wave away the voices in the back of his mind. Something to get lost in.

And then he felt it. A change in the air. The rush of those that came by, faster than usual, with more urgency. A mixture of nervousness and excitement writ upon their faces. Something had happened and more was to happen.

A group came around the corner at the end of the hall, led by one who’s eyes were wild and aflame. A wobble in his step notwithstanding, he led the pack, a feral grin seemingly etched on his face.

Ah, so this is our mad King.

He blinked, frowning.

Our? Huh.

With a shrug, he stepped out and merged into the group, not really sure of the destination or intent, but figuring that he might as well go along for the ride.
Valthir
Dark Jedi Knight of the Dark Jedi Order (because we're just not Dark Jedi enough, we have to mention it twice)
Pirate Overseer of the mythical Osk Company (during one of those blue moons when it actually exists)

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Inso
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  RE: Hoist the Colors
November 29, 2016 3:59:10 PM    View the profile of Inso 
“Aha!” Relto exclaimed, sliding the cards from the table. Inso didn't even see the motion. A scarlet hand waved across the stool and they were gone. “No theatrics she says? I like these people less and less. Give me a scan of that ship!”

Inso tapped the scanner. For some reason this particular screen tended to go dark until given a quick rap. He wished he was in a ship that worked. “There are some Republic drones surveying the ship. Serious damage to the hull, no AG. Large regions of the ship without atmosphere and… that's not good. Guard droids on the ship around the most expensive components.”

“The ones we want?” Relto asked.

Inso let out the aqualish equivalent of a sigh. It was more like a rattle of his mandibles. “Yes.” He wished things could be easy just for once.

“Well then I expect some theatrics are in order,” he exclaimed in his flamboyant manner. “But primarily, you getting suited up and earning your keep,” Relto added in a more businesslike manner.

“And my keep will be…” Inso started.

“Aha! Negotiated afterwards, there is no time now. Go quick quick!”

Inso slowly pulled himself to his feet. More than anything else, he wished he wasn't so desperate.
Inso Khel
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Kami
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  RE: Hoist the Colors
December 1, 2016 9:23:17 PM    View the profile of Kami 
Olin Yee, long time engineer and sub-par soldier, squinted at the datapad reflecting layer upon layer of schematic in hand.

"Staring at it isn't going to magically decipher it," the dark-furred Bothan to his right snorted derisively.

Olin shot a withering glare at his colleague. Koth Asyr'cra might have been a genius at navigation and systems control but the Bothan's mouth, in Olin's opinion, wasn't worth the few hours saved by the New Republic Engineer Corps in the long run.

"Less talking," Olin managed between gritted teeth. "And more fixin' Private."

Koth looked up from the charred terminal he was standing behind, once the vast sensor array for the huge vessel, and rippled his fur in clear irritation. He tapped one hand against the pistol strapped to his thigh in a clear movement of provocation and offered a thin lipped smile. "Whatever you say Corporal."

Olin felt his temper build until the vein in his forehead began to throb. He pulled in a deep breath, forced his clenched fists to relax, and settled for stalking away from Koth to the other side of the Bridge.

On the way he passed several dozen engineers, all propped underneath consoles, rooting around in tool boxes, or swearing as they battled with frayed wires.

The damage to some sections of the bridge were more extensive than others. NR marines had forced their way through the bridge with their usual amount of discretion - that was to say that the stations closest to the heavy doors had been obliterated and were impossible to jury-rig. Indeed the damage caused by the marines had made re-establishing life support systems in the bridge one hell of a headache, only surpassed by the difficulties of the other engineering squad currently tromping around in the vacuum of deep space trying to restore support in engine maintenance.

If it wasn't for Head Command's insistence that the Corps try and restore the floating chunk of scrap metal, Olin and his superiors would have thrown in the towel weeks ago. But symbolism was a powerful thing, even if it came at the cost of investing enough manpower and materials to build several frigates.

Olin came to a halt next to his Sergeant, known to the men only as 'Sapper,' a thickset human woman with fiery red hair and a solid jaw. She was currently in rapid fire conversation with the leader of the twelve-man marine squad that had accompanied the engineering squad. Their mission? To guard against the threat of an empty space station, make disparaging remarks about the sparkies, and flex muscles at each other while stifling yawns.

"...need you to tell me exactly what it means." The Gunnery Sergeant, six feet of towering black muscle, was saying.

"I can't do that," Sapper was saying with the slow clipped tone of someone who was repeating themselves. "It could be nothing. Until we get the sensor array back up and running we have to rely on short-range scanners and they're notoriously sensitive. It's likely debris."

"Likely isn't good enough," the Gunny declared. He gestured to his hovering XO with a tilt of his chin. "Full sweep. Take two fire teams."

"What's happening?" Olin murmured to Sapper as the XO snapped a salute and span on his heel.

"Scanners flagged something, then dropped out." Sapper said, running a hand through her frizzed hair. "Been on the blink for days, but apparently it's enough to signal a full blown invasion.

Olin blinked. "Who the hell would want this piece of shit?"
|| Retired ||
[LoR][CoR][IG][GCA][BC][BM][CDS][EW][ES][GRP][GS]
------------------------
|| Krath Pontifex || Krath Order ||
DLoK/KP Kami Sharpe/Krath/Shades/Raven L-01/Dark Jedi Order/Vast Empire [PO]
------------------------
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[This message has been edited by Kami (edited December 1, 2016 10:07:04 PM)]
Sniping101
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Sniping101
 
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  RE: Hoist the Colors
December 3, 2016 9:21:08 AM    View the profile of Sniping101 
Once the Osk ships reached the Star Destroyer, and the Imperials and New Republic had become entangled in their lover’s spat, the Hound smacked it with a tight active sensor ping. Intel wasn’t big on what might be salvageable from the wreck, they needed to find the most complete systems, with the greatest amount of life support surrounding it. There were only enough exosuits for two teams.

Snipes was not among those so clothed. In fact, he was still barefoot and wearing only the dirty pair of pants and filthy shirt. The matted hair almost counted as a helmet.

A Star Destoryer was a city unto itself, and only large teams of engineers could really put all the pieces together. A ship’s captain would have a functional understanding of the system, and luckily Osk had one available, but even the people that made the ship run, the hundreds of people, were all neatly specialized in a few things, with some basic knowledge of everything else. Like a city, you could spend your whole life in it and still not know all its secrets. 

Snipes was ignoring almost of the secrets. He had lived in Star Destroyers before, in varying capacities, but he had never specifically crewed one or captained one. Closest he had ever had was The Broken Crown, and nobody knew how it worked, so the point had been moot. Still was moot.

Snipes had a hologram of where the bombs went. He had another one of a simulation of how the op was supposed to play out. Snart eventually give up expecting anyone to remember all the parts The Bucket needed. He’d made lists, with holograms attached so that the pirates would at least know what the things looked like, even if they couldn’t understand what they did.

The teams place explosives around a cylinder that went down several floors, completely sealed behind bulkheads. The idea being to blow where the bulkheads connected, hook the freighter up to the external part, attach it like a cargo pod, run. If they could grab anything with blinking lights and chipboards on the way out, all the better. It was slightly more delicate than that, with that cylinder doing something probably rather important. Where it hooked up to all the other bits of working ship would have to be severed to remove the module. Snart had explained it all in detail that Snipes had primarily filtered out. Snart had explained a lot of things about all the parts they needed. That was the fun part about salvage, you never knew what you were going to get until you started taking it apart. Hence the holograms, and descriptions, and simulations, and nagging.

Snipes’ feet on an unfamiliar, and quite possibly dangerous, ship made his heart pound in his head and a grin begin to creep across his face. The uncertainty, and simplicity, of a boarding action made him feel younger, almost. It was good to have something to do, something straight forward. There was a plan, now was the time to put it into action.

Of course, plans never worked perfectly, and it wasn’t until the shooting started that Snipes realized he’d forgotten to bring a gun.
{Comnet Hermit}
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TRP/FSG Sniping101/3SQD/2PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/VEA/VE[LoR][IH][BoA][CDSx2][CoR][ES1][EW1][CoS][GS][GRP][RoT][SCA][MRT] -So Very Retired-
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Inso
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  RE: Hoist the Colors
December 5, 2016 3:25:18 PM    View the profile of Inso 
For Inso it was a rather more directed affair. Mostly because his new togruta boss was not the sort to get his hands dirty. A standoffish type. One whose voice was genuinely beginning to grate.

“Corridor to the left please,” came that weekly sweet tone in his ear. There was no AG in this section of the ship. No atmosphere either. “No not that corridor to the left, the previous one.”

The aqualish enforcer came to an abrupt halt. The repulsor powered droid bumped into the back of his thighs. That sent a shock of fear through him. The damned thing was carrying enough baradium to blow a whole hyperdrive component free so it could be pulled through the hull into Relto’s heavy freighter.

“There we go, that's the way. Oh I should say they've spotted some New Republic marines. Nothing you can't handle.”

“What do you nothing you can't handle you pompous fool?” Inso demanded.

“Careful now.”

“No you…” choice words were exchanged. “...I have two blaster pistols and a bad temper. A fire team of half-decent republic marines will…”

A blaster bolt cut across the corridor ahead of him. Well, it was time to find out. Or not. He turned and ran, stopping to occasionally fire over his shoulder.
Inso Khel
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Kami
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  RE: Hoist the Colors
December 8, 2016 5:21:33 AM    View the profile of Kami 
The Osk pirates fell upon the destroyer like a starving mob. Loose groups peeled away at random, weaving their way into the depths of the ship with schematics in hand and explosives in tow. Other pirates just started ripping salvage from the hallways and side rooms that they passed at random, hooting and hollering as they sent up showers of sparks from dying electrical systems and sheared great chunks of metal free.

Kami strode along at the King's side, Jegora lurking silently on the other shoulder. Aeos was also nearby yet positioned slightly further back, blue gaze fixed on the bobbing backs of Rye and the rest of the King's personal guard.

At Kami's urging the group was slowly making their way towards the bridge of the vessel, their progress interspersed by spontaneous drinking and some fisticuffs. Members of Osk in other sections of the ship had crossed paths with a detachment of New Republic marines and engineers. If there was any form of NR leadership it would logically be centred on the bridge. The King had agreed that chopping off the figurative head of the NR presence would make it much easier for Osk to continue gorging on the destroyer at leisure.

Kami wasn't overly fearful of the possibility of NR reinforcements appearing and stopping the impeding murder of their leaders. Not when early reports of the space engagement suggested they Aurelia Cain was flexing her substantial Imperial muscle and calmly smashing the Republic defence to pieces.

"Pubs!" Rye suddenly howled and jabbed a finger towards the T-junction at the far end of the hallway.

A squad of six NR marines had materialised. Clad in armoured dusty green and black each was cradling a heavily modified DH-17 blaster rifle. Without any fanfare the group fanned out across the breadth of the hallway and raised their rifles to their shoulders.

"Open fire you bloody fools!" The King roared at his men. For some bizarre reason the man was without a weapon.

The pirates bawled out a furious challenge as both parties opened fire. The marines set to the task with professional efficiency, calmly picking targets through scopes and drilling them down with minimal ammunition. The man standing to the left of Kami lurched forward in a shower of blood as enemy fire tore out his neck. Another pirate, a petite Sullustan, tumbled and fell under the stampeding feet of his fellows as his organs spilled free from a maw in his gut.

Kami snapped her eyes forward, yanked a heavy blaster from her holster with her left hand, and triggered a few shots towards the line of marines. Without looking she tossed her second blaster pistol towards the King. Osk continued to drop around her under the relentless fire of the marines. The pirates were simply unable to manoeuvre in the confined space of the hallway or risk firing freely without clipping the backs of their comrades in front.

"Charge them!" Jegora yelled over the combined screams of weapons and men. "Run them down!"

Rye and his fellow guards gladly obliged. They covered the distance in mere seconds, fuelled by a heady combination of rage and fear, and fell on the pair of closest marines. Rye casually swatted at an extended arm of one marine with a wicked vibroblade and, in a fearsome display of strength, tore the limb completely free. The female marine let out a guttural shriek and collapsed to the ground.

Rye was already spinning, leaving the woman to his friends, and launched himself into the other marine in a flying tackle. He didn't seem to feel the serrated dagger the marine lodged into his shoulder. Or the pain of his nose shattering as the marine slammed an elbow into Rye's face in a desperate bid to break the pirates hold.

In fact, as Rye buried his vibroblade into the marines gut, smiling through red-stained features, it appeared as though he didn't feel much of anything except pure joy.

The rate of the marine's fire stuttered as their squadmates were cut down, then ceased completely as the personal guard swung to face them. With a single curt command the group began a rapid retreat down the right-branching hallway. Away from the bridge.

Rye, frothing bubbles of blood from his lips, charged after them. Most of the King's guard went with him, with a significant chunk of the crowd around Kami shifting to follow on their heels.

"No damnit!" Kami latched onto the collar of one pirate, and shoved him back into line. "Focus on the bridge - they want you to follow!"

Jegora picked up her cry, as did the King seconds later as he blearily realised that bloodlust had overtaken common sense. By the time the three of them had stopped the entire mob loping off after Rye, and settled everyone back into a loose formation, the damage had been done. A vibration rattled through the tiles under Kami's boots followed by the muted sound of rusted gears whirring into place.

"No," Kami started sprinting towards the end of the corridor, almost loosing her footing as she slipped in the gore of the dead marines. When she reached the T-junction she span to the left and found herself facing the wider expanse of corridor that led to the bridge. She had a split second to see the smug expression of a Bothan in a a pair of greasy overalls before the heavy security bridge doors clamped shut with a resounding thud.

Kami pulled in a breath and released a string of foul expletives. She was still going when the King appeared at her shoulder. He eyeballed the doors, took a long draught of rum, and shrugged his shoulders. "Oh well."

As if triggered by the King's vague optimism, Visha's voice suddenly sounded from the comlink clipped to Kami's belt.

"Sharpe?"

Kami yanked the comlink free and thumbed the transmitter. "Here."

"Good and bad news," Visha replied. "Good news is that the first lot of salvage is on the Ship Faced. The longer we hold position the greater the haul. Bad news is...well..."

She paused, clearly considering a light touch, before settling for characteristic bluntness. "Two imperial troop transports are incoming. I can't swing the Hound around and engage them without drawing Cain."

Kami swore again as she processed the news. She thumbed the comlink. "I understand Visha. Thanks for the heads up. Keep a low profile until we get off this thing."

Kami lowered the comlink and turned to the King. "We need to draw them here or they'll put an end to the Oskers working on the engine units."

Snipes took a long thoughtful pull of his bottle. "So blast down the doors," he said. "Kill the chaff, build a blockade, lure the bucket heads in and cut em' down?"

His lips split as he offered Kami a wild grin. "Ain't nothing quite like doing business."
|| Retired ||
[LoR][CoR][IG][GCA][BC][BM][CDS][EW][ES][GRP][GS]
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|| Krath Pontifex || Krath Order ||
DLoK/KP Kami Sharpe/Krath/Shades/Raven L-01/Dark Jedi Order/Vast Empire [PO]
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[This message has been edited by Kami (edited December 8, 2016 6:06:20 AM)]
Havock
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Havock
 
[VE-ARMY] Brigadier General
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  RE: Hoist the Colors
December 10, 2016 5:27:43 PM    View the profile of Havock 
The group was at least fifty meters in front of her and engaging the NR soldiers with a  vengeance. Ayme was unlucky enough to get the full effect of bolts ricocheting off durasteel walls in unpredictable patterns. Someone who studied chaos theory would be in heaven. She grunted to her knee and aimed the heavy rifle she found on her way to the bridge.

She had managed to stay off to the side as the group made their plans, just in ear shot but out of mind. Ayme was pretty sure her sister – who had forcibly dragged her to the med bay to be helped by an ancient barely functioning medical droid – would not be pleased that she tagged along.

Another shot whizzed past her ear causing her upper body to jerk painfully and sending her growling to cover at an awkward angle. 

“For fucks sake Ayme, do not get shot. It’s a sniper rifle, use the sniper rifle.” She continued to mutter to herself as she struggled back to her knees. Ayme had never been much good with a rifle, always preferred her pistols in a gun fight, but the tactical training that had been engrained from her time in the Army made it abundantly clear that there was no way she was in any shape to be in the front lines on this assault.

Once her eye settled in the sight she watched as the doors slammed shut and Kami almost slid into them, then started speaking into her comlink. With a frown Ayme rotated the rifle away from her eye and used her forearm to push herself slowly to her feet.

A hand slammed into her shoulder just as she accomplished her goal. “Dammit Ayme, I told you to stay in medbay.”

Ayme snorted at her sister, “right Zee, and when was the last time I did what you told me to do? And don't worry, after I gave that med droid a tune up, I took enough drugs to feel barely any pain...or anything else except for a great appreciation of the beauty of pink banthas.” Ayme smirked and wagged her eyebrows. "I even brought enough to share?"

Aeos gave her a resolved but amused smile in return. “No Ayme, you can keep them. I guess what you say is true, you really suck at listening, but you get yourself killed it’s your own stubborn fault.”

“Fair enough.”

The King gave his orders, and Ayme gave a gentle salute and nodded towards Kami. “You heard the man Zee, lets build ourselves a barricade.”
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Mongrel
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Mongrel
 
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  RE: Hoist the Colors
December 11, 2016 4:20:20 PM    View the profile of Mongrel 
“What? We have bombs,” Snipes said, “Rye, blow the doors,” Snipes jerked a thumb over his should.

Snipes tossed the borrowed blaster back to Kami and padded over to the smoldering corpses of the New Republic Marines. He nudged one with his foot. It wasn’t getting up. Snipes leaned over and went through its pockets. He found a stick of gum, three useless credit chits he threw over his shoulder, and a lot of lint. He scowled at the corpse, then picked up its blaster. The blaster pack was full and the weapon was in good working order. He grabbed two side arms off the corpses and stuck them in his pants.

Behind him the door shattered. Not quite enough to fully open it, but enough that Rye was already shoving one of his men through the hole. Smart thinking, keeping the hole small. It would slow the Oskers getting in, but it would also slow the Marines.

Kami walked over and pointed and grabbed one of Rye’s men and pointed to another, “Grab their gear,” she pointed at the corpses, “we’re going to want it.”

Snipes nodded, wishing he’d thought of that. Kami and Snipes had both held out in similar positions before, and a bit of extra fire power and saved reloading time didn’t hurt anything. If nothing else, it would deprive the enemy of further resources. The enemy may not want the resources, but it was better to leave them without and know they couldn’t use them than it was to chance it.

The two ill armored assholes jogged back towards the door, arms loaded with weapons and cargo pockets full of hand grenades.

Giblets ensued. They got everywhere.

They were preceded by a reverberating, echoing, and deafening bang. One of the Rye’s men coughed blood and crumpled forward onto the floor. The dead Marines were largely pulp. Snipes’ collar impacted his throat (his eloquent response: “gurlk!”) and he stumbled backwards. He wasn’t entirely sure how it happened, but Kami was in front of him, blaster firing. Then Rye grabbed him, and by then Snipes was getting his physical and mental footing back. He pushed Rye off him and lifted his stolen blaster.

The first marines must have had friends nearby, and these fools weren’t, well, fools the same way the first group had been. The first encounter had been a surprise for both sides, but this group were moving slowly, using what cover there was and suppressive fire. It was enough to push the pirates back into the bridge area. The blown doors would make a decent fatal funnel for the encroaching Marines, assuming the people on the other side were taken care of. At the moment, Snipes’ pirates were the ones having to navigate that fatal funnel, from two sides.
Bitch! I eat people.
-Alucard (abridged)
Eviscares
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Eviscares
 
[VE-ARMY] Sergeant
 
Post Number:  445
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  RE: Hoist the Colors
December 12, 2016 12:02:14 AM    View the profile of Eviscares 
They had given him his boots back before the assault. And the life support gear they had also given made the appearance of being able to work almost reliably most of the time. As far as weapons went, he hadn’t gotten any, the pirates holding on to their assortment of stolen guns and knives almost as jealously as a wookie to his third breakfast.

This particular problem had been easily solved however, as Evis had simply grabbed the pistol of one of the first dead new republic marines that littered their way. It wasn’t his trusted E-11 but in a pinch it would do.
What the pirates had given him though were bombs. Stupendous amounts of explosives had been stuffed in a backpack and handed over to him to carry, once again reinforcing his ideas about why he had never wanted to become a combat engineer. Carrying a backpack full of things designed to go boom on your bag in a gunfight seemed like an insanely stupid idea.
By now he was hustling through the guts of the ship as good as one could hustle while making use of mag boots, being the mule for a squad of 4 pirates.

At least his time with the mob had gotten him accustomed to banter, a stark contrast from the way the corps operated. Then again, the scoundrels that he was plodding after today weren’t even doing banter. They were doing something else. It was like a completely new language made up mostly of insults, slurs, and comments about various mothers that could even make Evis blush.

It seemed to work for them as a command language though. They had moved through the ship at good speed, and the one skirmish they hadn’t been able to avoid had been a short and messy affair.
Finally the five of them reached their goal, one of the engineering sections, and the lead pirate, a Rhodian named Zerm, gestured at the wall:”According to Rye, the assplosion bits go there.”

When Evis didn’t move he caught a stern look, and annoyed with his not understanding Zerm said slowly, as if talking to someone who was mentally challenged:”The explosives go here, soldier boy.”
Former Jester Squad
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-=Retired=-
TR/SGT_Eviscares/3SQD/2PLT/1COM/1RGT/1BAT/VEA/Tadath[LoR]
[This message has been edited by Eviscares (edited December 12, 2016 12:32:15 AM)]
Aeos
ComNet Sage
 
Aeos
 
[VE-ARMY] Captain
[VE-DJO] Dark Jedi Warrior
[VE-ICS] Pirate Overseer
[VE-VEEC] Engineer
 
Post Number:  3141
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  RE: Hoist the Colors
December 19, 2016 3:45:37 PM    View the profile of Aeos 
Over estimated she did. Badly so.
She was still deliriously high from that near death experience.  And following it up with half a bottle of wiskey. Rookie mistake. Now they she was embarking on another rollercoaster ride of stupid mistakes.
Aeos trudged behind the swaying King's back trying to keep her face straight and neutral as they dispatched the remaining of the current wave of marines trying to squeeze through that door. Of course another wave would be pending.

She didn't miss Havock's expression when she had murdered that bodyguard earlier or Kami's lack of expression for that matter. Honestly with Havock playing ping pong on her moods and painkillers and Kami who couldn't be bothered to raise even an eyebrow it was hard gauging them and their moods. The men were easier to read, if slightly more so.

The smell of plasteel and melting Dura steel was burning uncomfortably up their noses as pillaging and murder got underway around them, but for half the crew it was what they probably smoked on a daily basis.

"Fuck!" The King swore. His ensemble turned their backs, facing the door trying to spot the enemy as he continued swearing and oddly started to hop on one foot dropping his blaster pistol in favour of the saving the bottle of rum in the other hand whilst he inspected something on his foot.

"Glass cut straight through sithspit."
Kami swore. If expressions could slap, Kami would have been the one to trademark it in this moment.
"Tis fine, just some blood. Nothing the rum can't fix." Snipes mumbled as he took a swig of his rum before dribbling some of it over the open cut on the bottom of his foot.

"King. It needs stitches. Not rum. And shoes. You need shoes."Aeos murmured dryly as she studied the oozing mix of blood and rum now running freely into the floor."

"It can drip dry. Onward!" The King exclaimed as he picked up his blaster pistol before  managing a leap with his functioning foot a mighty step. He swayed dangerously, his arms akimbo as if performing an incredible balancing act. It was incredible considering the state of his mental sobriety. He hopped again, and then again. Inching towards the door again.
Shit....he is serious. Aeos thought indecorously.

"You have got to be...fucking...kidding me." Kami said icily as she eyed the hopping King.

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