In the deep reaches of space, unknown to many, was a group of pilots waiting to rain hell on their enemies. Their name, best suits that … The Reapers. Assembled on their hosting vessel, the Hellfire-Class Escort Carrier ‘Tiamut’, the Reapers prepared for their latest mission. They were shuttled to the Ship in secrecy, no member of the First Vast Imperial Fleet outside of NHC or Reaper knew where they were at. Three Pilots sat in chairs in the Reaper Briefing Room, waiting to hear their mission and know their duty.

The door to the briefing room opened, and an officer walked in. Second Lieutenant C-3PX2 walked into the room, and towards the podium. Seeing the officer, Master Chief Petty Officer StOrMz stood, “Officer on Deck!” he yelled.

The Squadron stood, all at attention, the Lieutenant stood puzzled, he was not used to this sort of thing before.

“At-Ease, take your seats. We have a small bit to go over.” He said, as he made his way to the podium, once there he set a data pad on it and pressed a button. The Screen behind him light up and an Image of the Galaxy appeared.

“Reapers, here we are assembled again, we lost one member from our squadron, but we have gained another. Master Chief Petty Officer StOrMz has been accepted into our squadron, to become a messenger of death.” He said, and then pressed a button on the podium changing the image to a sector of the galaxy.

“This is the Jambiim System, our target. Here there is a stop along a New Republic trade route, one that is going to be the route of a certain ship. A ship that we have been tasked with capturing.” The Display changed to an image of a Wayfarer-Class Medium Transport.

“Mr. Tyrol, I know you are familiar with this class of Transports, from Operation: Trojan Horse. We know these ships inside and out; therefore once we capture the ship, you and I will be going inside it to locate a certain item it will be transporting. An experimental Hyper-Drive Motivator, one that our Overseers want captured, and our Capitan wants installed.”

The door opened, as the Lieutenant looked over to see who it was “Captain on deck!” he said and the Squadron stood.

“At-Ease, carry on.” Demonic said.

“Yes Sir.” C-3Px2 replied, “To continue, Overseers want it taken care of now. We have nice opposition though, a Squadron of Incom T-65 X-Wing Fighter Craft protect it. So, to combat them we shall be flying in Besu'liik Hunter-Killer Star fighters, fully armed an equipped with the most powerful weapons. Any Questions?”

Master Chief Petty Officer StOrMz raises his hand. “Yes, Mr. Krazanr.”

“When do we leave, Sir?” he asked.

“Heh, Captain?” C-3PX2 said.

“Right about,”

[[All Hands, Prepare for Hyperspace jump … in 3, 2 … 1]]

“Now.” Demonic said boldly.

With that, the Tiamut disappeared into the reaches of Slip-space in an instant. Traveling faster than Light itself, it would take a short bit to reach the system. Long enough to prep for the mission, gather gear, and board their fighters. Their Mission was beginning, their goal … the capture of the Wayfarer with the Hyper-drive Motivator.

“There are data-pads in the back, take one, study up. We launch the moment we come out of Hyper-space, do not be late. Dismissed.” The Second Lieutenant said.

The pilots rose, and exited the room. The Lieutenant and the Ship Captain stayed behind.

“Sir, you have something?” C-3PX2 asked.

“Something doesn’t feel right about this mission.” Demonic said wary.

“You are talking to the wrong droid about feelings.”

“Very true, very true; watch your back out there. Especially when you get onboard the ship. If it looks as though it’s going bad, Abort and get out of there. I don’t want to have anyone captured from Reaper. The Motivator would be stored in the Secure Cargo Area, inside the main hold. You will need to capture a ranking officer to get the access code to it. Be careful who you shoot at, you need one of them alive.” He said.

“Yes, Sir; anything else?” C-3PX2 asked.

“Negitive, head out and prep your gear.”

“Yes, sir.” He said, and began to head out of the room.

“Wait, actually there is one more thing. Take this.” Demonic handed him a Seismic Charge, “If you cant capture the motivator, blow the ship to the depths of hell.”

“Hoorah!” C-3PX2 yelled.

“Dismissed.” Demonic said, and left the room.

C-3PX2 left the room as well, and headed for the hangar to inspect his fighter. He wanted to know that it was operational before the mission. It became a course of habit for him to do, so he walked to the hangar expecting to eventually find his comrades there too.

OOC:

Heres the Start of our next mission, now post up!

Reaching the hangar, Second Lieutenant C-3PX2 pressed the door panel button labeled “Open”, to do just that. He then proceeded inside the hangar’s over watch deck. Overlooking the hangar, he saw Master Chief Petty Officer StOrMz leaving the bay, though he did not see the other two pilots remaining in the group. The Master Chief seemed to have been learning the “Ins & Outs” of his fighter craft, wise, for this was his first time in a Besu'liik Hunter-Killer Starfighter.

This mission would be a simple mission. Go in, get the goods, and get out before they know what hit them. It could not get any easier than that. The question would be, could it be done? They would have to drop out of hyperspace completely by surprise, confuse and distract the enemy, have two pilots destroy a squadron of Incom T65 X-Wing Star Fighter Craft, and then locate cargo and get it back to the ship, without anyone even knowing who they were. This would be a simple mission alright, as long as everything went exactly to plan.

He took the service elevator down to the hangar deck, noting the location of his Besu'liik Hunter-Killer Starfighter. Something about these things, the aggressiveness, the agility, the shear firepower on them, made him want to fly it now. His culture sat on every inch of the fighter, MandalMotors, a Mandalorian Corporation based on Mandalore. The core of his being, which as a droid … he should not even have, was the core of this fighter’s being; A Mandalorian killing machine. It was almost as if this fighter was only an extension of himself. As if he himself was flying the space, blasting away at the enemy, and leaving them a small pile of debris in space.

He walked up to his fighter, noting the new information on the side of the fighter. “Second Lieutenant C-3PX2 ‘Chrome’ “. Must have been someone’s idea of a joke. He would stick with it, he liked the idea of a second name to match this Privateer Operation they were in. It would be best not to use their real identities in it, lest they be captured and identified. Especially in this, a most dangerous mission, where he and another pilot would have to go inside the enemy transport. The allure of danger was all around him, and he was ready for it. He checked every inch of his fighter, and then he detected a sound directly behind him. He ripped the DL-57 Heavy Blaster Pistol out of its holster faster than the person could blink, and it was up to their head before he even identified the person.

“Calm down! Holster it! I’m just here to have you sign off on the maintenance work!” a mechanic said.

C-3PX2 released the mechanic’s head, and holstered the blaster. “Fair enough, where do I sign?” he asked.

The man showed him on the data pad, to which C-3PX2 signed for the work. It had now been approved for flight, and the Besu'liik Hunter-Killer Starfighter that he would fly was ready to kill, ready to fight, ready to prove its worth.

The Wookiee hated studying. He hated it more when he had to do it at the last moment. Two solid hours of staring at his datapad had began wearing on the Reaper pilot.

[I have to take a brreak.] Stormz thought to himself.

Putting the datapad down, Stormz turned around and exited the room. He was off to the cafeteria. Studying always made the Wookiee hungry. Come to think of it, everything made him hungry. His Reaper comrades had already began teasing him for his eating habits.

Opening the fridge, he found some type of meat. It looked extremely inviting to his growling stomach. On the top, however, he noticed Ibram Tyrol written in permanant marker. Grudgingly, the Wookiee set it down and looked around for something else. Nothing looked satisfying. Moving on to the pantry, Ph'rranix had to settle for a large jar of cookies. With a cookie in one hand and the jar in the other, Stormz began his short journey back to his room.

OOC:

Sorry it's so short. I can't think creatively