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ComNet > Stormtrooper Corps > Archived Stormtrooper Corps Story Board > Cutthroat Competition (Blackjack)
 
 
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Topic:  Cutthroat Competition (Blackjack)
Crest
ComNet Initiate
 
Crest
 
[VE-ARMY] Lance Corporal
 
Post Number:  198
Total Posts:  421
Joined:  Nov 2011
Status:  Offline
  Cutthroat Competition (Blackjack)
March 11, 2012 3:07:29 PM    View the profile of Crest 
***Blackjack Barracks, Tadath***

The electrical current shot its way through the wire, entering the sound chamber. Its strength and length were quickly read and converted into a noise, which was emitted at high volume into the room. The noise shoved its way past the oxygen, nitrogen, hydrogen, helium, and the other various elements in the room towards an ear of the lone inhabitant. All in less than a millisecond.

Crest lightly tapped out the beat of the pounding music with his foot behind the mountain of paperwork. He grabbed the next file and opened it.

In it was contained the latest warning to the Blackjack squad to cease and desist its latest string of pranks. Crest examined it, filing away the details for an off-the-book meeting with Valthir, who would distribute punishments accordingly. He quietly and accidently dropped it into the small fireplace beside him. He began wording the response to the follow-up letter that was sure to come in two weeks.

Dear sir/madam. It is very regrettable that we were not informed neither of this horrible --scratch that-- horrendous act nor of your earlier warning. We do hereby request that a formal transcript of the complaint(s) plus a copy of all evidence. We also request a list of witnesses so that both Gunnery Sergeant Valthir and I, Lance Corporal Crest, may interview them. This will allow us to distribute punishments according to the various severities of the acts of the participants. I have attached Form 199/34/12b in triplicate and Form 201/67/41c in triplicate, to allow us access to the evidence and witnesses.

Crest slowly leaned back as he mentally reviewed the wording. These idiotic paper pushers were not the only people who could play bureaucratic games. He would just kindly forget to attach the form. When his response would be processed, a letter would sent back to them, stating so. Then, Crest would apologize and send back the wrong forms. Therefore, another letter would be sent. Then Crest would send back a reply stating there were no local hard copies of the appropriate forms. Then a letter, with the blank forms, would be sent back to him. Then, Crest would fill those in and send them in. It would take a few weeks to scrounge up the data, which by then would be buried in the archives. It would take even longer to gather the consent of all the witnesses. Therefore, Crest was looking at about twenty weeks at minimum until the official, visible progress was started. He liked the odds of this event just disappearing, and, in the meantime, punishment would still be dealt. A perfect solution.

Letting the music pound his fatigue from his body, he leaned up and grabbed the next file, a black one with no markings except with a routing to Blackjack. He slowly opened it, looking over the mountains of paperwork laying in front of him. He returned his attention to the file. His eyes progressively grew in shock as he read it. As he finished reading it, he grabbed one of the twenty-seven pens lying around and threw it across the room at the power button on the stereo. He scrambled to his feet, sending his chair rolling into the book case behind him. The resulting crash was unnoticed by a suddenly extremely focused Crest.

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

Crest lightly rapped on the door.

“Come in.”

Crest fluidly opened the office door and slipped into the office.

“Ga-,” Crest stopped mid-name, remembering who was in the office now. “Val, we’ve got a mission.”

Crest stepped up and laid the black file on Val’s polished, shining desk. The new squad leader’s hands deftly opened and leafed through the file.

“So we’re getting deployed against top-of-the-line mercs without our standard armor? Custom armor and personal weapons?”

“Think of the better side, we don’t get those pesky E-11 and 45’s.”

“For you, maybe; the rest of the troopers aren’t going to be so thrilled. Call the rest of Blackjack together; let’s try not to keep them in the dark for too long.”

Crest nodded.

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

Crest quietly sat down on at his customary seat and leaned back, relaxing. His eyes drifted to ceiling, ready for another peaceful briefing in which all he had to do was listen and relax and, maybe, just sleep...

“Crest? You do know you’re giving the briefing, right?”

Crest’s head snapped forward in surprise.

“Me? Uh-”

He was able to say no more as Kilroy walked into the room. Both Squad Leader and Assistant greeted their one experienced trooper with a simple nod, and they received one in return. Realizing that it was inevitable that he was going to give the briefing, Crest seized the black file and began cramming details into his mind. Realizing the futility of trying to remember all the fine details, Crest quickly organized the papers into a more convenient format to which he could reference.

Psycho and Crusnik, the new troopers of Blackjack, entered the room. As they took their seat, Val motioned Crest to begin the briefing. Crest, even though he was trembling inside, calmly walked up to the front of the room.

“Alright, Blackjacks, a tip captured from the now decimated Blanchard faction indicated that a certain Navarr Research Company could be very helpful in creating experimental weapons. However, with the destruction of Blanchard, it was believed that the information was secured.”

Crest paused a moment, remembering the hectic Anteevy and Liberty Station missions.

“A week ago, Gallis Navarr contacted the Vast Empire with a suspicion that New Republic, we believe NEEDLE, forces were planning to support his rival in a crucial vote on the future of the company’s research. Navarr currently holds forty-five percent of his company's stocks. The rest of the stocks are divided between two neutral people who hold approximately five percent each; Ricni Irorr, a rival who holds about forty percent; and approximately four hundred other people, which compose the remaining approximate five percent. This vote requires fifty-one percent to pass, so each vote will be sorely needed.”

Crest paused a moment, seeing if any of the mathematics would sink into the minds of the troopers.

“What this means on the practical side is that every stockholder has been called to a meeting that is to determine if the company will shift to weapon research or will evolve into a civilian research company. Naturally, with the company positioned in fringe space, the Vast Empire wants to ensure the company will go into civilian research since assets cannot be spared to protect the company and/or acquire the technology. Intelligence believes that the New Republic and Thrawnist forces are interested in securing the company's future in weapons and will try to strike a deal afterward to secure the technology, so we must strike now, before both New Republic and Thrawnist forces suspect a strike.”

Crest glanced down at the packet for a second, sponging in the details of this next, and more important, part.

“Gallis has come up with an audacious plan to force the company into civilian research. A fancy-shmancy party is being held before the vote in a sort of castle-mansion. An undercover stormtrooper squad, us, posing as a group of mercenaries, will enter the party in civilian clothing; kidnap Senesca Navarr, Gallis’ daughter; and will threaten to kill her if the company does not fall into weapon research. The hostage will then be 'rescued' by security after negotiations, the whole works, etc. We hope this will garner Gallis Navarr enough popularity/sympathy to win the vote. We will be loaned a few stocks so that we can enter the party. In the contingency plan that he does not win the vote, Army elements will be tasked to raze the labs of the company, which are upon the orbital moon. We are to set up a beacon for orbital bombardment, and extract.”

Crest waited the customary amount of time, indicating that the general overview was finished.

“The planet, Valnyar, is a normal temperate world, no big surprises or anything like that. The city, Kil'urdar, is...different. It’s essentially a huge spire with a kilometer-long bridge leading out to it. The castle-mansion is on the top, with it’s own wall. What the good part is, though, that there’s a nearby volcano that is used to produce energy for the city. The lava from the volcano flows into a four-kilometer-wide gorge under the spire, so, please, make sure not to jump off.”

Crest offered up a small smile to emphasize the joking nature under which it was said.

“The castle-mansion is of the utmost simplicity. There’s a huge wall around it, with a gate. The mansion proper has two levels, plus the roof. The first floor is where the party will be. The second floor contains Gallis’ living quarters, so it’s off limits. The roof is essentially a huge terrace that sprawls over the mansion. If our contingency plan is necessary, there is a vent with about a half-meter diameter near the middle. There is a basement, which is serving as base for security, comprised of hired mercenaries."

Crest waited a moment to indicate the following change in subject.

“Naturally, if we’re going to look like mercs, we’re going to need custom armor and weapons. The army will supply basic armor for you. On the trip over there, we’ll customize it and get used to it. As for weapons, take your own, but don’t go overboard on the weapons. It has to be light, because this mission should not require more than a few shots for dramatic effect. In the best-case scenario, not a single round will be fired this time around. All your equipment will be waiting for you on the other side. Before we land, we’ll hand over the weapons and armor to some of Gallis’ liaisons who’ll smuggle it in for us.”

The squad held what appeared to be mixed reactions to the news.

“We’re going to start off with silenced pistols only and some of your more stylish civilian clothing. The Army says we’re allowed to use the pistols in the party, if necessary. Forget what you just heard. Not a single round is fired without Val’s or my approval, and you don’t even need to ask until we’re out of the party. Next, there’ll be some alcohol being served there. Don’t even think about it, you hear me? You can pick up a bottle or two for the after-mission celebration if you think it’ll survive the mission, though. Finally, there’ll be plenty of female slaves there. Not even a glance!”

Crest watched as Kilroy’s face fell at the restrictions. He continued.

“Now that’s the end of the pesky rules and all. Everything else is fair game. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity to enjoy the party for a mission, so enjoy the party and make sure to bill everything to the Vast Empire, within reason.”

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

***Kil'urdar, Valnyar***

Blackjack stood in front of the awe-inspiring gate into the castle-mansion, wading through the long line of stockholders filing into the party. The panoramic view of the lava behind them fascinated the Assistant Squad Leader. He tore his eyes from it and turned around to the rest of Blackjack. Surveying them, he asked one question.

“Shall we rock this party?”

OOC:
Orders: Have fun at the party. Seriously. No joke.

You have just a simple, silenced pistol which you are not allowed to use, unless Val and I give you both IC and OOC consent.

In the meantime, clear your true weapons and armor (which are not with you currently, but will be returned to you) with us.
ASL/LCPL Crest/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/Tadath/VEA/VE| (A1) (6.1) | [ES1] [LM] | {CRoS} | [*QW 12*] (CEC) (ECA)

Assistant to Valthir, the omnipotent god of Blackjack Squad
Infiltration Expert

"If you're in a fair fight, you didn't plan it properly" -- Nick Lappos
"Courage is not the absence of fear. Courage is acting in spite of fear." -- Carly Fiorina
"Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever." -- Mohandas Gandhi
"Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity and I'm not sure about the former." -- Albert Einstein
[This message has been edited by Crest (edited March 11, 2012 4:07:34 PM)]
Psycho
ComNet Novice
 
Psycho
 
[VE-ARMY] Private Second Class
 
Post Number:  32
Total Posts:  131
Joined:  Aug 2011
Status:  Offline
  RE: Cutthroat Competition (Blackjack)
March 11, 2012 5:37:49 PM    View the profile of Psycho 
"Name?" the tall, dark skinned guard said in his deep, intimidating voice. Dev "Psycho" Bandoran, noticing the man's hostile attitude, felt a little angered.

"What's it to you?" Psycho replied, revealing hostility in every word. The guard, surprised at Psycho's rebuttal, looked away from his checklist, staring the Bespin "mercenary" in the eye.

"You have a problem, merc?"

"With you, maybe." The man stepped up to Psycho, angrily pointing to his chest.

"Listen here, you little merc, no one talks to me that way." Anyone who knew Psycho, knew that he would have injured the guard right then and there. Which was why Crest stepped forward touching Psycho's shoulder.

"Psycho," he calmly stated, looking at him straight in the eye. "His name is Dev Bandoran. Please excuse him. He..." Crest trailed off for a moment, thinking of an excuse. "...he's a little...special needs." The guard nodded, accepting the excuse as a valid one.

"Very well. Proceed into the party."

With that, Psycho entered through the gates, proceeding straight towards the building.

The room was a hive of activity, and full to the brim of people. It smelt of alcohol, cigarrettes, and something strange Psycho couldn't put his finger on. Perhaps it was the home. About the room, men stood drinking, woman quietly chatted, eyeing the single men in the room, and races of all different kinds took part in gambling. Glasses clinked, gamblers cried out in loss, and everyone took part in loud chatter. In short, it was a little bit away from complete chaos.

As he entered the main lobby, he saw three breath taking woman wave at him, but he quickly averted his eyes, remembering what the assisstant squad leader had told him. He pushed his way past people, and randomly took a left into one of the sitting rooms. There, a few Twi'leks and a man sat around a table playing some sort of card game. Most likely sabbacc. On another table was a steaming pile of biscuits. Psycho, who felt his stomach grumble for food, stepped toward the biscuits, but he was suddenly bumped into.

A young man, maybe in his twenties, and dressed in casual wear, pushed Psycho asside, clearly entranced by the biscuits.

Does everyone have to get on my nerves today?

As he recovered, he pulled the young man back by his shirt, turning him around. Clearly scared by this tall, muscular, intimidating figure, his face was drained of any color, and he trembled.

"S-S-sorry mister...I-I didn't mean to run into you," he squeaked out.

"That's right," Psycho said, pleased by apology. "Now, who is going to get a biscuit first now?" he added on a more happier note.

"You mister."

"That's right, now off with you. Don't bump into me again. Unless you want to be facefirst out that window over there." Psycho released the man (who seemed to have the looks and personality as a boy), and pushed him away, finally grabbing at the long desired biscuit.

As he bit into it, he felt the warm, moist, interior, and tastes the rich, butterly flavor. The food item was so good, that he had another few. And another few. Eventually, people backed off from the biscuit bowl, since Psycho was craving it so much, and that very bowl, a minute later, was empty. Psycho, very pleased, slowly released a burp, trying to make it as silent as possible.

Well, he thought to himself, I'll go see what the rest of the squad is doing.

Slowly, but surely, he made his way out of the side room, and began a search of any Blackjack members. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw something familiar. What was it? Turning his gaze, all he saw was a mess of people. What could he have seen. Then, without any warning, he recognized one of the people!

In the crowd stood a tall man, around Psycho's age, with high cheekbones, blackhair, and a hair cut that bounced up and down with each stride. Psycho knew him as Flavel Ellington, a fellow police officer at cloud city. He remembered Flavel as a nice, but reserved man who was a little sketchy. He didn't have anything wrong with Flavel, but if he recognized Psycho, the mission could be comprimised!

Turning his mercenary cap to the side, he walked in the opposite direction of Flavel, trying as hard as possible not to be seen. Though he remained unseen from Flavel, he caught other people's attention. After all, he had been in a low crouch covering his face. One of those people was the Squad Leader, a certain Valthir.

"Psycho," Val whispered, "what are you doing?"

"Val," Psycho said, relieved to finally find one of his squad mates. "I need to talk to your...secretly. Meet me outside."

A moment later, the two were out in one of the back gardens alone of any people or noise. A large moon hung in the night sky, full of craters and rich details. Truly beautiful.

"What do you want, Psych?" Val asked, eager to get back to the party.

Psycho, eager to tell Val, immediately said, "Someone I know is in there."

"Who?"

"A police officer I commanded as Cloud City's chief police officer."

"Do you think he might recognize you?"

Psycho hesitated, thinking for a moment. "I'm not sure. I was his boss, afterall, but its been awhile."

"Let's hope he doesn't. We wouldn't want people to know the Vast Empire is behind this."

Psycho nodded. "I would...you know...take him out...but...I wouldn't want to make a scene."

"It would be best not to, but keep it in mind if he does recognize you. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to get back to the party."

Psycho nodded, watching as Val left him alone to the cool night sky. Psycho strode over to a small wall, leaning on it, and taking a view of his surroundings, but also wondering what was to come of this mission.

Nevertheless, there was some Cuthroat Competition going on. And he was part of it.
ETRP/PSC Dev "Psycho" Bandoran/3SQD: "Blackjack"/1PLT: "Wildcard"/1COM: "Phoenix"/1BAT: "Dragon"/1RGT: "Osiris"/VEA/VE/Tadath
Crusnik
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Crusnik
 
[VE-ARMY] Private
 
Post Number:  18
Total Posts:  62
Joined:  Feb 2012
Status:  Offline
  RE: Cutthroat Competition (Blackjack)
March 11, 2012 9:49:08 PM    View the profile of Crusnik 
Crusnik watched the small confutation with Psycho and the door man. It looked like Crest broke it up and they went through.

I wonder if he is always like this.

The door man motioned the two people in front Crusnik to go through and he then stepped toward the door man. As he did heard the door man said something under his breath.

“filthy mercs.”

Looks like I’m going to get some spending cash.

“Name?” The door man asked, without looking up from his clipboard.

“Crusnik,” he replied.

“Alright, go through”

As Crusnik walk forward he tripped, bumped in to the door man, slipping his hand in and out of his pocket. Taking something out of his pocket without him or anyone else noticing.

“Hey watch were you’re going you idiot,” The door man said, pushing Crusnik away from him.

“Sorry, I had a few before coming,” Crusnik said, smiling as he walked past him.
The door man glared at Crusnik as he walked away. Then shook his head in disapproval and went back to letting people in.

Crusnik continued into the building ahead of him, making his way to the room filled with people chatting, smoking, drinking, gambling and the occasional flirting. He walked over to the closest trash can, pulled out the door man’s wallet and looked through it. He found a photo of a human woman with long blond hair stopping a little past her shoulders, bright blue eyes, lightly tanned skin, in a light blue dress that complimented her eyes, smiling.

She’s beautiful, for a human, pity.

He then looked through the rest of wallet finding two hundred and seventy three IC. He took the money and put it into his pocket. Then discarded the wallet into the garbage can and moved to the center of the room. Once in the center of the room he looked around his surroundings seeing where the exits were and where the guards are.

Plenty of exits and plenty of guards.

He then looked around for his squad members. He located Valthir and Psycho heading toward what looked like a garden area. He then saw Crest and Kilroy chatting near the bar.

Well that accounts for all of them, time to have some fun and blow through some cash.

He then made his way toward the Pazaak tables, grabbing a few horderves and a nonalcoholic drink along the way. After a few minutes he found an open table sat down and played a couple of hands. Once winning his five hands in a row, he got up and walked away from the table with an extra two hundred ICs in his pocket.

Man my first mission and I’m already making money.

He chuckled to himself and then started toward the bar.
TRP/PVT Crusnik/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/Tadath/VEA/VE
Quote:He wins his battles by making no mistakes. Making no mistakes is what establishes the certainty of victory, for it means conquering an enemy that is already defeated. --The Art of War by Sun Tzu Chapter IV:Tactical Dispositions
Crest
ComNet Cadet
 
Crest
 
[VE-ARMY] Lance Corporal
 
Post Number:  202
Total Posts:  421
Joined:  Nov 2011
Status:  Offline
  RE: Cutthroat Competition (Blackjack)
March 12, 2012 5:34:34 PM    View the profile of Crest 
"Listen here, you little merc, no one talks to me that way."

Crest grew alarmed as he saw Psycho’s face contort into rage. A spat was exactly what they needed to keep under cover. He lightly tapped Psycho’s shoulder.

“Psycho.”

He calmly stated, looking at him straight in the eye. He turned to the security officer before continuing.

“His name is Dev Bandoran. Please excuse him. He...”

Crest trailed off for a moment, thinking of an excuse.

“...he's a little...special needs.”

The guard nodded, accepting the excuse as a valid one.

“Very well. Proceed into the party.”

Crest attempted to slip by with Psycho. The plan was foiled when the guard noticed him.

“Name?”

“Orin Ka’tar.”

“Stock Number?”

“Which one?”

“Any one.”

“One-zero-six-five-seven-nine-zero-three.”

The guard paused a moment, checking the number with his datapad.

“Checks out. Proceed.”

Crest resisted the urge to slink into the shadows and walked through the checkpoint, straightbacked. It chafed at every bit of fiber of his being not to just slink into the shadows, but he held it.

Entering the party, Crest threw a quick glance around the party. Alcoholic drinks (off limits), girls (off limits, again), and gambling (thankfully, not off limits). After being cooped up in his office ever since the Liberty Station mission, Crest was almost eager to have some fun finally. He wormed his way through the crowd, finding an empty Pazaak table. He set up his side deck on the table and waited for the inevitable challenge. It came in the form of a brutish-looking man.

“Ya lookin’ to play you some Pazaak?”

The accent drew him back to his first mission... Anteevy... home of cold... two scouts... leading a squad with the reputation as the anti-thesis of stealth... Dunny... and a whole lot of fun, joking, killing, kissing, and near death from the entire mission.

A smile touched Crest’s lips as he remembered his one-mission comrade.

Good luck, wherever you are and go.

“Yeah, I’m ready to play. How much are you going to bet?”

“Eh, let us simple, poor blokes keep it small. How ‘bout one thousand?”

One grand? Right off the bat and it’s ‘small’ to him? Who the hell is this guy?

“Fine. Let’s do it.”

The guy sat down at the table and set up his side deck. As soon as they both deposited their credits into the pool, the table warmed up and began the game. The two of them drew their standard four cards from their side decks.

Crest relaxed, with the familiar texture of the cards bringing him back to ease. He viewed the cards: Negative Five, Negative Three, Negative Six, and Negative Two. Perfect. He had built his side deck on one premise. Reduction. You could nearly always use a negative card; a positive card could only be used if you were under twenty.

The game began with a smattering of a card on his opponent’s side. Seven.

“End turn.”

A card smattered down on his side. Eight.

“End turn.”

Five.

“End turn.”

Six.

“End turn.”

Four. His opponent played a three, putting him at nineteen.

“Stand.”

Ten. Crest played a negative four, making him exactly twenty.

“Stand.”

His opponent’s face was contorted by rage at his loss. Crest gave a grim smile. Angry players were never good players.

Two more rounds to go.
OOC:
Yes, I know it's a cliffhanger. I just love being torturous.
ASL/LCPL Crest/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/Tadath/VEA/VE| (A1) (6.1) | [ES1] [LM] | {CRoS} | [*QW 12*] (CEC) (ECA)

Assistant to Valthir, the omnipotent god of Blackjack Squad
Infiltration Expert

"If you're in a fair fight, you didn't plan it properly" -- Nick Lappos
"Courage is not the absence of fear. Courage is acting in spite of fear." -- Carly Fiorina
"Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever." -- Mohandas Gandhi
"Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity and I'm not sure about the former." -- Albert Einstein
Valkryie
ComNet n00b
 
Valkryie
 
[VE-ARMY] Private Second Class
 
Post Number:  14
Total Posts:  23
Joined:  Mar 2012
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  RE: Cutthroat Competition (Blackjack)
March 12, 2012 9:17:26 PM    View the profile of Valkryie 
==============@ Blackjack Squad HQ===============
Valkryie entered the Blackjack Squad and saw everyone listening to a person holding a file and discussing something to them. One of the person standing up in front signalled her to sit down and listen for the rest of the report. ”Rats, what a nice time to be late” she said in her mind. She listened to the rest of the discussion ”ooh a party, this will be great!”.

As soon as the discussion was finished Valkryie approach Crest and Val to report. “Sir, Private Second.....”, “Yeah yeah we’ve been expecting you Valkryie, here read this” Crest said as he threw the file he was reading to the squad.

Almost done reading the report, Valkryie almost dropped the file and her eyes grew large, she held it tight and looked back to her superiors “Sir, we’ll be mercenaries now?”, “Yes, is there a problem?” Val answered and stepped forward the rookie.

The squad leader looked at the file, took it in hand and looked back at the rookie and said “this are orders from our superiors and we will obey them down to the last dot. Is that understood Private?”. Valkryie nodded and stepped back one step “I’ll do my best not to let you down sir” she said and went out of the room.

As soon as she stepped out of the room she leaned to the wall and thought ”I’m in a mission! I can’t believe this”. She leaned there for a couple of minute and then slowly walked back to her bunk and prepare for the mission.

==================Kil'urdar, Valnyar================
Everyone in the squad made their way in the party without any problem. Everyone blended in except for Psycho who made a scene at the cookie section. ”He sure eats a lot” Valkryie said to herself looking down at her squadmate from a view deck on top of the party. Dress in an evening gown that hugs her matured body made her blend well. Among the men in the party that is. The last thing she saw of Psycho was he was walking with Val out through a door.

“Ya lookin’ to play you some Pazaak?” Valkrie heard someone in the gaming area, she scrolled to where the familiar voice came from and saw Crest. ”Looks like everyone is where they are all supposed to be.” she said smiling as she turned around to two men who was talking to her earlier. “So what business brings you here in Navarr’s mansion my dear?” one old looking human, most likely a business man as well, asked Valkryie really stunned on her dressed. “Well, I am here for men like you Mr. Azure” she replied with a teasing voice and put a finger on his chest and slowly sliding up to his neck and chin forcing the old man to look her in the eyes instead. She remembered what Crest last reminders were, no alcohol and definitely no women, but he didn’t told her that flirting to get valuable information is a no no.

Valkryie gave out a sexy laugh that truly enticed not only the men around her but also the guards standing by a door. ”Out of all the rooms on this floor, why does this one have a guard? hmmm I wonder why?”
TRN/PVT Valkryie/.SQD/.PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/VEA/VE
[This message has been edited by Valkryie (edited March 12, 2012 9:19:47 PM)]
Alater
ComNet Member
Imperial Baronet

 
Alater
 
[VE-ARMY] Sergeant
 
Post Number:  606
Total Posts:  614
Joined:  May 2007
Status:  Offline
  RE: Cutthroat Competition (Blackjack)
March 12, 2012 9:44:00 PM    View the profile of Alater 
Alater approached the entrance to the overtly cliché castle in as stealthy a manner as an eight foot tall lizard could manage. A constant scene of bad luck befell the surly doorman as Alater approached; though how it could be said that a Barabel's arrival would make his evening improve was hard to say. Alater patiently awaited his turn at the angry guard while silently watching his squadmates from a distance. One or two of them, Kilroy in particular, he had worked with before and would recognize him; Alater maintained as minimal a presence as possible for a creature his size.

“Name?” Asked the now nearly infuriated guard without lifting his eyes from his datapad.

“Alater Osted.” Alater replied, years of training keeping the typical Barabel hiss out of his voice.

“Isn't that the name of that guy that rescued those stupid lizards that kept getting hunted illegally?” The guard asked, his eyes widening to the size of saucers as he finished his sentence.

“Osted Alater was his name, and yes he is my namesake. Funny you should mention being hunted. Do you know what we call trespassers on Barab?” Alater asked, a wicked toothed grin upon his oversized face.

“W-what?” The guard stammered in sudden fright, the scent flooding from every pore.

“Prey.” Alater answered, strolling casually past the guard, who by the smell, had soiled himself.

The inside of the party was just as lavish and preposterously cliché as the fortress in which it was housed. Complete with complimentary food, booze, and slave girls of all tastes, the soiree was gaudy to say the least. Over dressed officials and self important individuals of all flavors made their way about the festivities in groups. It was interesting to Alater to watch prey pack mentality at work in such a large function; it wasn't often that he got to see prey for more than a few seconds before his view was interrupted with gushes of red and laser blasts.

There were those that did not move about like prey. To watch predators amongst a crowd of their prey is a much more uncommon sight. If watched closely the guards and security personnel could be distinguished by their posture, hidden weaponry, and constant surveillance of the crowds. Hidden more deeply from sight were those like himself who had nearly no business being there. Vast Empire troops, even Elite units like Blackjack, stood out like a sore thumb to the trained eye. That's what happens when you're a trained killer. It didn't happen when most of the troopers that ended up in elite units were not entirely attached to their sanity.

Buried deeper within the circling groups of predators were the truly dangerous individuals. Alater spotted a few of these, recognized one or two as Vast Empire troopers who knew how to blend in, and then his eyes shrunk to pinpoints. Alater's tongue tasted the air in a very reptilian manner to confirm what his eye's told him but mind did not want to believe. His tongue did not lie, and Alater made for a table nearly concealed in shadow in a dark corner like an arrow.

Upon arriving at the suspicious table, positioned so as to give its occupant the maximum viewing range of all exits as well the entire floor, a set of brilliant white and deadly sharp teeth were illuminated in a shark like grin.

“Alater, such a long time since we have met like this.” Rolled the elegant tongue of the shadowed figure.
“What are you doing here pilot?” Alater hissed as he sat, suddenly aware of how little one could see opposite of his sitting companion.

“You know as well as I that I serve our mutual masters at their pleasure. However, tonight I am here merely in an observation position. Simply enjoying myself as you might say.” An unmistakable tone of arrogance followed the speaker's voice to Alater's trained ears.

“You are aware of why I'm here?” Alater asked, the question half rhetorical.

“I'm sure I haven't a clue about what you're talking about. Whatever it is, I'm afraid there are some beautiful women calling my name that I must not keep waiting. See you later, Black Scale.” The shadowy figure strolled away, revealing himself to be a hauntingly gorgeous Rutian dressed in expensive black robes lined with gold lace.

Alater would have laughed at Rutian's joke if he hadn't been taken by complete surprise by his presence. If Rutian was lying, which he usually was, things could get...complicated. They always did when that near insane Twi'lek was involved. It didn't help that Alater still had scars from one of their chance meetings on the opposite ends of the same same objective. The Navy boy might be a pilot but he knew his way around that wicked bladed staff he carried better than some of the special forces guys Alater had worked with knew their own close combat methods. Alater shook off the surprise and set about finding his SL.

Val wasn't hard to spot. Quite to opposite, he was very hard to spot. The Blackjack squad leader knew how to blend into a crowd better than any trained professional could. The man had a natural talent for not being seen when he didn't want to that bordered on the supernatural. Alater had always admired that about the young trooper. As a predator, one who preferred stealth, Alater had always had something of a professional respect for the man. He wasn't disappointed to be serving under him. Frak, it was Blackjack, they'd end up running down the hallways shooting everything that moved at one point or another during the mission. Always ended up that way. Alater slinked up to the Squad Leader as only an eight and a half foot tall solid mass of scales, muscle, and scar tissue could.

“Val.” Alater said, drink in hand. Drinking without drinking was a surprisingly difficult trick.

“Alater,” Val responded, not even a hint of surprise in his voice, “I was not aware that you were joining us on this one.”

“You know how it is, they point, I go.” Alater chuckled a bit. It came out like a low thunder.

“You've been briefed?”

“Yea, en route.”

“They couldn't find a shirt in your size?” The squad leader dropped business for pleasure like discarding an empty round.

“I was told that black was quite slimming.” Alater retorted, a much louder rolling laughter escaping between his razor like teeth.
ETRP/SGT Alater Osted /3rdSQD/1PLT/1CMP/1BAT/1REG/VEA/VE/Tadath [EW1] [ES1] [SoH] [[VUA-Eclipse]] [ROC:HW] [AS-6M] [IG] [RoM] [BC] [LoS] [AS-1Y]
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Si hoc legere scis himium eruditionis habes- It's true
Crest
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Crest
 
[VE-ARMY] Lance Corporal
 
Post Number:  206
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  RE: Cutthroat Competition (Blackjack)
March 13, 2012 3:33:38 PM    View the profile of Crest 
“Ya be good at this game. But I’ve never lost a match, though. Round three, we go to, then.”

Crest’s opponent remarked as Crest’s total game out to twenty for a second time, after he had played his negative two card.

A card smattered down onto Crest’s side, a eight.

“End turn.”

A card slid onto his opponent’s side, a seven.

“End turn.”

A ten slammed onto Crest’s side. Eighteen total.

“End turn.”

A five slammed onto his opponent’s side. Twelve total.

“End turn.”

A six came on Crest’s side. Twenty-four total. Crest played his negative five card, bringing it back to nineteen.

“End turn.”

A five for his opponent. Indecision characterized his opponent’s face.

“...Stand.”

A seven slammed onto Crest’s side. Crest slammed his negative six card on to the table, bringing his total to twenty.

“Stand.”

Crest gave a sardonic smile at his opponent, watching his opponent’s face fall in disappointment as the thousand credits flooded Crest’s account. His opponent stalled for a second, attempting to process his loss.

“Dammit! Ya fool, you be a cheater! Ya rigged the table! Ya had so much time before I came here!”

Crest paused, flabbergasted at the man’s audacity.

“I did not. How could you even suggest that?”

A sardonic smile grew onto his opponent’s face, and cruel amusement twinkled onto his eye.

“This is how.”

His opponent drew a knife. Crest’s normally tan face drained of its color, and his eyes were shocked open.

Now or never.

Crest slipped out of his seat and drove through the crowd behind him.

Over the dull roar of the crowd, Crest heard his hunter call, “Ya can’t hide from me, ya know?”

Riiiiiiiiight. It's not like I'm a fully certified in infiltration.

Crest shoved aside a small, casually dressed man, complaining about someone who had drained an entire bowl of biscuits. Then the problem flooded his consciousness. He was out of a crowd. It was going to be easy hunting him now.

There was nothing to do about it, though. He utilized a loping stride and walked into the gardens. His shoved his way painfully through a beautiful, though thorny, bush. On the other side was a path branching both to his left and right.

Always do right. To the right then.

Snick

Crest heard the knife hacking its way through the bush. With no thought, Crest took off running to his right.
OOC:
I promise this is the last cliffhanger I leave on this part. Seriously.
ASL/LCPL Crest/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/Tadath/VEA/VE| (A1) (6.1) | [ES1] [LM] | {CRoS} | [*QW 12*] (CEC) (ECA)

Assistant to Valthir, the omnipotent god of Blackjack Squad
Infiltration Expert

"If you're in a fair fight, you didn't plan it properly" -- Nick Lappos
"Courage is not the absence of fear. Courage is acting in spite of fear." -- Carly Fiorina
"Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever." -- Mohandas Gandhi
"Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity and I'm not sure about the former." -- Albert Einstein
Crusnik
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Crusnik
 
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  RE: Cutthroat Competition (Blackjack)
March 13, 2012 7:37:25 PM    View the profile of Crusnik 
Once Crusnik made it to the bar he sat down and looked at the drink menu.

No,no,no,nope,can’t,not aloud …..ah ,this looks ok.

“I’ll have a PowerThirst Shockolate please,” Crusnik ordered, wile setting aside the menu  and looked at the bartender.

The bartender nodded, then pulled up Crusnik’s drink from the cooler and  handed him his drink.

“Thank you,” Crusnik said, as he was turned away from the bar.

He sipped some of his drink feeling the effects from it as soon as he did.

WOW…this is way to sweet.

He then sipped again and canvassed the party as he did. He noticed two things different about the party. The first thing he noticed was that there are way more people now than there were before. The second thing was the smell of fish horderves, that have been put out on the table, across the room.

I got to get me some of those, he thought,as his mouth began to water.

He placed down his dink and started to walk over to the table with the horderves. As he walked toward the table, he saw crest walking fast away from the party.

Must be looking for the rest room.

When he reached the table there were only a few of the fish horderves left. He shrugged and took the rest of them. He started to eat the horderves, as he turned around.

Crusnik walked toward the garden area, but stopped halfway. He saw Valthir and a seven foot black Barabel chatting. Seeing the Barabel reminded  him of  the Hutt arena.

I’ve fought his kind before, but not as big.

He had a chill go down his spine.

Well I guess I should go and introduce myself.

He changed direction and headed toward Valthir and the Barabel. After he dogged a few people and ate the rest of the horderves, he reached them.

He is a little bit bigger up close.

“Hello Val, who’s your friend,” Crusnik asked.
TRP/PSC Crusnik/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/Tadath/VEA/VE
Quote:He wins his battles by making no mistakes. Making no mistakes is what establishes the certainty of victory, for it means conquering an enemy that is already defeated. --The Art of War by Sun Tzu Chapter IV:Tactical Dispositions
[This message has been edited by Crusnik (edited March 13, 2012 7:54:32 PM)]
[This message has been edited by Crusnik (edited March 13, 2012 9:05:45 PM)]
[This message has been edited by Crusnik (edited March 13, 2012 9:44:59 PM)]
Crest
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Crest
 
[VE-ARMY] Lance Corporal
 
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  RE: Cutthroat Competition (Blackjack)
March 14, 2012 3:40:56 PM    View the profile of Crest 
“Ya can’t run from me, matey! I know ya be somewhere in de ga’den!”

Crest took a sharp left-hand turn, running past a particularly beautiful column-shaped bush that was of a dark red leaves with delicate white petals. He would have really appreciated it...if he was not being hunted.

Crest’s feet pounded the ground as they gobbled the distance up. He took a V-turn to the right, taking a path that had trees with beautiful red petals floating down. One minute later, he took a sharp left turn...and faced a wall. Quite literally. He had reached the castle’s wall.

Dammit! Now what... guess I’ll have to fight. I do have a pistol...but the security guards would notice the blood pretty easily and that’d ruin the mission... Hand to hand then. Well, hand to knife actually.

Crest paused and took a firm stance, ready to fight his opponent.

His opponent came rushing around the corner and paused, startled to find his prey.

Crest lowered his head and shoulder and rushed at the guy, throwing one hand at the wrist of the hand holding the knife. His impact knocked his opponent to the ground. As Crest’s hand smacked the wrist, the knife slipped out the man’s grip and clattered to the ground.

Crest carried his momentum and rolled onto his feet. His opponent followed him up a minute later.

They rushed each other, rag Crest crumpled to the ground and slid, left heel first, into the man’s ankle. The man flew over Crest, landing with a thump on the other side.

The man jumped to his feet, a testament to the amount of fat on his body. Crest struggled to his feet, leaning heavily on the castle wall. The man blurred into two parts in Crest’s vision.

What... the... hell?

Crest shut his eyes for a second and shook his head. Crest slowly opened his eyes. His opponent’s hand glittered.

What... the... hell? A glittering hand?

Crest slowly closed his eyes once more and re-opened them. His eyes slowly opened. The world came back into clarity... including the knife in his opponent’s hand.

I’ve already settled my fears about dying once on Anteevy. I’m willing to die for the good of the squad... I could use my pistol... but that’d ruin the squad’s operation secrecy, by revealing somebody has a weapon here... Though, I would have liked to see Aieya one more time... just one more time... I’m not about to die without seeing her again.

Fixating his mind on that special raven-haired face, Crest dipped his hand toward the pistol and drew it out of its hiding spot...
OOC:
Change of plans. I'm putting up another cliff-hanger. Sorry. Actually, I'm not. Deal with it.
ASL/LCPL Crest/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/Tadath/VEA/VE| (A1) (6.1) | [ES1] [LM] | {CRoS} | [*QW 12*] (CEC) (ECA)

Assistant to Valthir, the omnipotent god of Blackjack Squad
Infiltration Expert

"If you're in a fair fight, you didn't plan it properly" -- Nick Lappos
"Courage is not the absence of fear. Courage is acting in spite of fear." -- Carly Fiorina
"Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever." -- Mohandas Gandhi
"Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity and I'm not sure about the former." -- Albert Einstein
Valthir
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Valthir
 
[VE-ARMY] Gunnery Sergeant
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  RE: Cutthroat Competition (Blackjack)
March 14, 2012 6:01:07 PM    View the profile of Valthir 
It was a relief to have Alater along with Blackjack. Val had worked with him before, though for only a short period of time. Despite that, the Barabel definitely had proved his worth in combat, enough that Val felt a little flash of fear at the thought of facing such an opponent. It wasn’t his size that intimidated Val, as it the larger a being was, the easier was to get them off balance, and Val had squared off against more than a few opponents Alater’s size. No, it was the claws that he wary of. A few inches long, the bony projections protruding from the ends of his fingers were razor sharp and were always ready for combat, presenting a very daunting challenge in close combat. Behind the barrel of a sniper rifle, Val would feel safe, but anything less and his chance of survival would not be very comforting.

Shaking away such thoughts, Val glanced over his shoulder, and caught sight of one of his newer troopers, the Cathar, approaching. Crusnik sounded cheerful as he closed the distance and offered a greeting, which the pair returned.

Val motioned the two a bit closer and murmured, “We shouldn’t be gathering in groups larger than two.”

Affixing a grin to his face, Val waved at the two and backed away, turning and threading his way through the crowd. His thoughts now on the squad, he mentally ticked them off the list as he found them. He had just left Alater and Crusnik, and off ahead, he saw another one of his new recruits, Valkyrie, exiting the room. Further on, he saw Psycho attacking one of the finger-food tables off in a remote corner, and Kilroy in what looked to be a deep conversation with another being. The only one missing was Crest.

Frowning, he was walking when there was a commotion on the other side of room. Just barely, he glimpsed Crest’s face for a brief instant, before it was gone, swept away in the flood of beings. Even so, the man had not looked calm and peaceful. Quite the opposite, actually.

Cursing, Val slid through the crowd, not bothering to apologize to the people he bumped. He quickly crossed the room, but he wasn’t quick enough to catch Crest. Glancing to the side, he saw a poker table with a few upset beings seated around it, muttering to themselves as they shot glances in the general direction that Crest had gone.

Putting two and two together, Val turned to the men, and asked “Did anything unusual just happen here? I’m looking for my friend and I’m afraid he may have done something stupid. Can you help?”

One of the men scowled and turned away, but one of the others was a bit more helpful.

“Yeah. Something unusual happened alright. A guy, probably your friend, managed to score a bunch of credits off of the other guy that was here. He got mad and took off after your friend with a knife.” He stopped and gestured, “They went in that direction.”

Thanking him, Val moved off in the direction that the man had gestured in. Coming to an archway, he walked through it and emerged into a garden. Right away, he saw the telltale marks of where someone went slashing and crashing through the greenery. Following the trail, emerged into a clearing that was flanked by one of the castle walls. On his knees amidst the clearing, a man straddled someone else, whom Val identified as Crest, as he moved to plunge the knife down and into the heart of the Blackjack trooper.

Racing forward, he reached around the man’s head with his left hand, grabbing the wrist of the knife hand and wrenching it back to the left, wrapping it around the man’s head and twisting him off of Crest. Val grasped the upper arm of the knife-wielding hand and slammed the man’s elbow down over his knee, snapping it cleanly. The knife fell from the motionless hand, which Val snatched up and slammed into the man’s head, twisting it around to strike hilt-first. A cry had been emerging from the man’s throat, but was choked off as he fell into unconsciousness.

Standing back, he exhaled heavily and eyed Crest, who was climbing to his feet and holding his pistol.

“And what exactly were you meaning to do with that?” he asked, nodding towards the weapon with a small grin.
Valthir
Adept of the Dark Jedi Order
Pirate Overseer of the Osk Company
Squad Leader of Blackjack Squad

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Psycho
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Psycho
 
[VE-ARMY] Private Second Class
 
Post Number:  36
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  RE: Cutthroat Competition (Blackjack)
March 14, 2012 7:19:53 PM    View the profile of Psycho 
For another half and hour, the party continued well. People continued their gambling, drinking, and chatting, whilst Psycho browsed the rooms, searching for food items. The house which they were in was very well furnished and supplied, for it had expensive and luxurous items, both decorative and for common use. The kitchen and security staff were also well payed. The guards were strong, large, and well armed, and as Psycho noted via the large amount of consumed food, the cooks were marvelous at their job. The favorite thing Psycho liked about this mission.

He was told later on that Crest, the assistant squad leader, got into a little tumble over a card game, but Val had managed to break it up, leaving a dead body in the process. Nevertheless, Psycho was having a good time. That is, of course, without the paranoia surrounding Flavel Ellington, the man Psycho had commanded on Cloud City.

Not wanting to be recognized, Psycho would quickly slip out of the room as Flavel entered, and if Flavel looked in his direction, he would duck, perhaps sending more attention towards himself. It wasn't that Psycho didn't like the man, though, he didn't really have an opinion on the matter, it was just that he didn't want to be seen as Dev Bandoran. His cover would be blown!

Though, Flavel didn't see him...yet...

Breathing in through his nose, he smelt a warm, flavorly scent that tingled his brain and alerting him to a new supply of food. Proceeding toward the direction of the scent, he entered a dining room, barren of beings except for a few chatting people. There on the table was a bowl of fresh, warm, steaming biscuits. The kind that he had had before. Lunging out for a biscuit, he saw in the corner of his eye a humanoid movement. Turning his head, he noted that it was a man, also grabbing one of Psycho's biscuits. Only when biting into the biscuit, did Psycho realize who it was. Flavel Ellington.

His heart skipped a beat, but it was too late, Flavel had already looked up from the table, spotting Psycho.

"Commander Dev!" he called out, Psycho cringing the entire time, "What a surprise! I thought you had left for the Vast Empire!"

Psycho stuttered. What would he say? If he agreed that he was Psycho, some of the guests surrounding them would remember this, thus blowing their cover. If he didn't, Flavel would start making a scene, as Psycho knew his personality. He would have to come up with something quick.

"Well..." he began, making it up as he went, "Its a long story. Here, how about we step outside for a moment. I can't hear that well in here."

Flavel reluctantly agreed, following Psycho out the backdoor and into the gardens. They walked along a footpath for a few moments, till they came to one of the short walls. It overlooked the scene Psycho had previously stared in awe at. The mountain backdrop, illuminated by a brightly lit moon. But now was not the time for scenery. Now was the time to take action.

"So," Flavel, once again began, "We're you been for the past year?"

"Actually, I'd like to hear about you," Psycho stated, trying to get as much information out as possible. "What're you doing here." He knew his plan would work. Flavel was slightly egotistical, so he would want to talk about himself.

"Well, my friend owns this place, actually, and he invited me up. I live down a few kilometers, but I'm the closest neighbor he has, but not for long. Tomorrow, I'm moving to the moon up there." He gestured toward the floating orb in the sky, pausing for a moment to take in its magnificence. "They've offered me a job at their laboratories." That was all Psycho needed to know.

Perfect. When I kill him, no one will notice his disappearance for awhile. They'll think he moved.

Psycho suddenly grabbed the man, prepared to through him off, but to his surprise, Flavel actually grabbed onto him as well.

"Frak!" he yelled out whilst yanking and pulling on Psycho, "I knew you were acting fishy! You could never tell a lie! You're up to something, and I know it!"

Psycho, becoming enraged in anger by the moment, forcefully gained control over Flavel for a moment, and he pushed him onto the wall, before standing straight and kicking him off. But then, Psycho felt a tug on his leg. Flavel had fallen, but he had grabbed onto Psycho's foot, and now they were both off the wall. Psycho's firm grasp was the only thing keeping them from plunging into the firery volcano below.

Psycho immediately thought of his options, his brain working at its full capacity. Once he concluded his plan, he grabbed the silenced pistol at his side, making sure his grasp with one had was firm, and aimed the gun below him, straight at Flavel's head.

"Don't do this Dev!" Flavel cried out, terrified by the moment. "Think of all the great times we had together."

"What?" Psycho sarcastically asked, "Me commanding your platoon into crime ridden buildings? That's what you think is a bonding time? So long, nerf herder."

With that final statement, Psycho pulled the trigger, sending a fiery blast into Flavel's head. The smoldering body dropped, twirling through the air like a dancer. It was a job well done.

Psycho pulled himself up, and into the gardens. He straightened his clothing, brushing off some dirt, and proceeded back into the building, prepared to alert Valthir and Crest of what he did.

Though, he had a gut feeling that it wouldn't be the only person he would kill in the near future...
ETRP/PSC Dev "Psycho" Bandoran/3SQD: "Blackjack"/1PLT: "Wildcard"/1COM: "Phoenix"/1BAT: "Dragon"/1RGT: "Osiris"/VEA/VE/Tadath
Kilroy
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Kilroy
 
[VE-ARMY] Lance Corporal
 
Post Number:  87
Total Posts:  120
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  RE: Cutthroat Competition (Blackjack)
March 14, 2012 8:20:10 PM    View the profile of Kilroy 
“Name?”

“Felix Kent, Number five five five, niner eight oh seven.”

“You check out, please proceed through here.”

Alrighty then, time for a party.
John thought, knowing full well that he could possible get past Valthir and Crest’s no drinking rule due to his enhanced metabolism.  Although the corporal wasn’t exactly the type to drink, the ability to drink would assist in getting him to blend in with the rest of the crowd.  Walking through the checkpoint, the Cadian wasn’t surprised when the scanners showed positive for a concealed weapon.  He was however, perplexed when he removed the pistol, and still showed positive the second time around.

“Sir, please step this way so we can do a thorough check.”

“Uhm…Okay…I really have no clue why I set the alarm off this time.”

“Just step this way sir.”

To his and the security guard’s frustration, the handheld scanner kept reading positive each time a piece of metal was removed; whether it was the holster, his belt, the priceless watch he got as a gift, to even pocket change, the disguised corporal kept showing up positive.  This is ridiculous, I know I may be heavily enhanced, but I have no cybernetics, so why should I feth am I not giving a negative scan?  He thought, annoyed at the fact that the piece of junk considered his body a weapon of mass destruction.  The image of that drew a small chuckle at actual potential of it being true.

“I’m going to have to ask you to remove your clothes sir.”

“What?”

“We need to check if your apparel has been laced with explosives or if you are hiding any.”

“You’ll find traces of explosives alright; I’m a freakin demolitions expert.  It’s my job to be around stuff that goes boom.”

“I understand that sir but procedure requires us to do a full body check at such a stage…maybe even a-“

“Don’t tell me…you have…”

“Yes we do sir.”

“Feth this…I’m going back to my speeder and smoking a cigar.”

---

Later

Getting into position was no easy feat for disguised engineer, especially considering the fact that he was a dedicated shock trooper for some time.  While he had some prior infiltration training, such experience occurred long ago and John was in sore need of a refresher course.  Thank Sabbatine that the Vast Empire has a similar course to back home.  He mused, setting up the suppressed marksman rifle that was given to him for the mission.  Although it wasn’t his old GR-110, the Cadian had faith in the weapon, even if it was soon to be replaced with his precious later on.

“Marksman in position; commencing over watch now....And can someone take pictures for me of all the hot ladies?”
TRP/LCpl Kilroy/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/VEA/VE/[5.1]/[6.1]/[PT]/[EW1]
Valkryie
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Valkryie
 
[VE-ARMY] Private Second Class
 
Post Number:  17
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  RE: Cutthroat Competition (Blackjack)
March 15, 2012 4:04:48 PM    View the profile of Valkryie 
“Be careful what you ask for Kilroy, that might be considered as military taboo” Valkryie answered on the radio. “Hahaha, I’m sure Valthir wouldn’t mind if I...” Kilroy replied, “hey you two, maintain radio silence” Valthir, the squad leader, suddenly said over the radio. “Copy sir” the two answered.

As Valkryie tried to survey the situation, Psycho was leaving the party with a tall person following him. ”I guess Psych know him” she thought as she continues to gather the are. ”Crest isn’t on the pazaak table anymore, I wonder what he did? Looks like a commotion down there” she continued talking to herself as she describes the people where Crest was discussing something.  Soon after that she saw her squad leader, Valthir, approached the table and talked to one of the players and then rush outside where he was pointed to.

”Crest is in trouble for sure” she said and turned around and see if the guards were alarmed, ”oh ok, its not a big of a deal” she thought when the guards station on both floors aren’t mobilizing.

Valkryie is starting to get worried. [i]”Valthir and Crest hasn’t returned yet.” she said looking down the door where Valthir exited. Tapping her fingers on the railings one finger at a time a man tapped her on her shoulder.

She turned around and saw Gallis Navarr, she gave her a smile and he smiled back.

“You look nervous, is there something wrong?” Gallis asked as he tried to look on the party going on down stairs. “Nothing to worry about Mr. Navarr, everything is under control” Valkryie said while she grab one of the appetizers that was served to them by a butler. “You seemed to be alone tonight, where is your escort?” Gallis asked. Valkryie is thinking that this guy should have mistaken her for a normal guest so she came close to him and whispered “Sir, I’m with the Vast Empire, we were the one assigned to do your job request”. Gallis was kinda shocked and looked around, he never expected a woman to be one of the mercenaries he requested.

Gallis looked around to see if someone noticed them talking and when he was sure that it was ok to talk about the mission assign to Blackjack he said “please be gentle and do not hurt my daughter ok”, “yes sir, again don’t you worry, but please, stay away from us.” she paused and looked around to check the surrounding.

“We don’t want anyone suspect that your the one behind this kidnapping” Valkryie continued and then walked away. Looking for any ears that might be listening to them or any eyes that are observing their movements.

Valkryie passed by the room guarded by two men and head to the elevator. She opened the elevator door and went down, making sure that the squads cover is still intact. She is still worried for the safety of the squad leader and the ASL.

”If they are still not back in 2 minutes, I’ll follow and go outside and follow them” she whispered.
Quote:hope this is ok SL Valthier.
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TRP/PSC Mira 'Valkryie' Strax/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/VEA/VE
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"Optimum est pati quod emendare non possis"
Crest
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Crest
 
[VE-ARMY] Lance Corporal
 
Post Number:  217
Total Posts:  421
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  RE: Cutthroat Competition (Blackjack)
March 15, 2012 5:36:48 PM    View the profile of Crest 
“And what exactly were you meaning to do with that?”

Crest contemplated the question for a second before replying with the obvious answer.

“Survive?”

Val chuckled for a moment.

“Fair enough. Shall we get moving? Security’s going to find the body soon.”

“Yes, sir!” Crest mock called out as if he was still in the academy, a green, fresh-faced trainee answering a rhetorical question from a drill sergeant.

The two of them traced back the path Crest had fled down as if someone had been trying to kill him. Of course, it was an entirely different matter if that was actually the case or not. They made it back in reasonable time, though nowhere  near as quickly as they had rushed from the party.

“So, Val, you going to take the squad or the equipment?”

“I’m obviously the people person, so, of course, I’m going to take the squad,” Val remarked sarcastically.

Acting as if he was immune to the sarcasm, Crest responded, “Alright. Fine by me. I’ll take the equipment.”

Without giving Val the chance to correct him, Crest quickly slipped into the flow of traffic and moved towards the warehouse dedicated to storing the various raw ingredients that were necessary for the vast empire of food in party.

Entering it, he scanned the various ingredients, looking for a certain box.

Let’s see... bantha steaks... flour... salt... Celebratory New Republic Creation Blend... spice...  Krayt Dragon Poison. Voila!

Opening up the large box of ‘Krayt Dragon Poison’, Crest slowly scanned the various numbers on the boxes. Finding the one labeled ‘Two- Three- One- One- One- One’, he peeled the top of it off, to see his beautiful custom armor. Well, some might have thought of it as morbid. Crest only looked at practicality and rapidly assembled the trimmed-down, token, and jet-black armor on top of him. He grabbed the M66-SD and slid a fresh clip into it. He then re-holstered his SH9 onto a more easily accessible place. Finally, he slammed the black visor over his face.

Oh, Val, where are you?

And, right on cue, Val walked in with the rest of the squad, plus a Barabel and an Iridonian.

“Who’re the new guy and girl, Val?”

“Eh, the Barabel’s Sergeant Alater, old returnee. The Iridonian is Private Second Class Valkryie.”

A Barabel who’s also a Sergeant?  Experience and toughness, an excellent pair. And a new recruit, always a good sign.

Crest quickly nodded his acknowledgement to both of them. Apparently, they figured out who he was, as he received two in return.

As the squad suited up, Crest delivered the next set of instructions.

“Alright, we’ve got to get to the second floor now. We’re going to go to the basement via the kitchen, and then take the elevator from there to the second floor. Keep your weapons extremely tight; try not to kill anyone, if you can help it. Remember we’ll be diving into a hive of security so be very careful.”

With that, Crest switched over to the comms to Kilroy.

“Kil?”

“Yeah?”

“Proceed around the wall and get to the back. You’ll find a balcony to which you can make a short jump. From there proceed to the elevator, we’ll be coming to you.”

“Copy that. I’ll get on it.”

Crest switched back to squad comms. Val stepped beside him and tapped Crest’s shoulder. Turning towards him, Crest switched over to the personal frequency between them.

“Yes, sir?”

“Never do that again.”

“Copy that.”
OOC:
New orders: Proceed into the basement through the kitchens. You'll find a small, unguarded tunnel. From there, proceed to the elevator to the second floor. The basement is the base of operations for the security, so there'll be heavy security. Kill only a few, and only if absolutely necessary. Make sure to dispose of the bodies. Once we're on the second floor, search for Senesca Navarr, but do not find or see her.

Kilroy: Proceed around the wall (which, incidentally is huge) to the back and make a jump onto a balcony onto the second floor. Then proceed to the elevator and wait to link up with us. Kill only a few, and only if absolutely necessary. Make sure to dispose of the bodies.
ASL/LCPL Crest/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/Tadath/VEA/VE| (A1) (6.1) | [ES1] [LM] | {CRoS} | [*QW 12*] (CEC) (ECA)

Assistant to Valthir, the omnipotent god of Blackjack Squad
Infiltration Expert

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"If you're in a fair fight, you didn't plan it properly" -- Nick Lappos
"Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity and I'm not sure about the former." -- Albert Einstein
[This message has been edited by Crest (edited March 17, 2012 8:53:04 AM)]
Psycho
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Psycho
 
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  RE: Cutthroat Competition (Blackjack)
March 17, 2012 10:49:46 AM    View the profile of Psycho 
"Oh boy," Psycho gleefully said, seeing his armor and weapons come out of a box. Crest handed him the case for his blaster rifle, and Psycho set it on the floor, opening it up like a child ripping opening a birthday present. Inside were the various pieces and parts for his blaster rifle: a DLT-19 heavy blaster rifle. The "heavy" was what he liked about. Quickly, he assembled his weapon, remembering where each piece was supposed to go. A moment later, his "precious" was fully built, all 1 meter in lenght of it. It was a monster, which was why Psycho adored such a weapon. Soon, he'd be getting his Anti-Infantry certification, which would mean he would get a T-21. A huge rifle with a barrel as wide as he fist. Truly an infantry devouring machine.

Valthir whistled. "You sure you can handle that?" he joked.

Psycho chuckled. "Of course. I'll be mowing down enemies like you wouldn't believe."

"Now, now. Psych. We're here to be stealthy," Crest butted in.

Psycho pulled something else from the box. This time, bigger and bulkier. "I guess I shouldn't have brought this heavy plated armor then?"

Crest faceplamed.

= = = = =

A moment later, the squad was walking down the hallway, attempting to be as stealthily as possible. With Crest, Alater, and Psycho in the front, and Valthir, Valkyrie, and Crusnik in the back. Together, they made Blackjack squad, the elite squad. Ahead of them was a small entryway. Beyond that, the kitchen. After that, a basement, and after that, and elevator to the second floor. From there, they would capture Navarr's daughter which would in turn generate empathy for Navarr. A very simple, but intuitive plan. Psycho hoped it would work.

As they passed through the entry way into the kitchen, Crest raised his hand to stop.

"We need a distraction. Perhaps a fire," he whispered.

"I'm on it," Psycho stated, before anyone else could. He proceeded around the kitchen, opening up random cabinets and drawers.

Here are some spray cans...

He grabbed the cans and strode toward an oven, where he threw them inside. The can clanked and banged inside the metal interior before Psycho closed the oven door and turned on the oven, setting it to 500 degrees.

"Good thinking, Psycho," Val, calm as ever, stated.

"No time for praise. We've got to haul our asses out of here!"

Suddenly, the squad heard a new voice. Psycho turned around to see a chef standing in the doorway, sweat protruding from his forehead. "Hey, what're you doing h-" But the man never finished his statement. Alater, a large Barbarel, lunged forward and grabbed the man by the neck.

"Don't kill him, or leave claw marks," Valthir ordered, "We don't want them to know someone did this."

Hearing that, Alater threw him into the wall. The man groaned and slumped to the floor, clearly unconscious.

"Great. What're we going to do with the body?" Crusnik queried, remembering the details from the mission.

"Allow me," Psycho said, grabbing the body and throwing it onto the oven. "That'll make it look like an accident."

"That thing's going to explode soon, isn't it?" asked the new trooper, Valkyrie. Psycho nodded.

Wanting to continue, Crest ordered, "Yeah. Come on, Blackjack. Let's move on before this things gets us."

The squad passed through another few doorways, sneaking as they went, before they heard a loud blasts behind them. The room shook, and dust and smoke rolled in, clouding everyone's vision. Only a second later, they heard a few screams and yells, as footsteps headed towards the fire.

"Good work, Psycho," Valthir whispered, "Let's keep moving."

They proceeded forward down the hall, for only a moment or two more, before they stopped, staring down the stairway to the basement. Valthir gestured for Crest to step forward, and he obliged. Psycho followed, Alater following him, and they crept their way slowly down the concrete stairs, toward the base of security. As the stair ended, they found themselves in a hallway. Crest pulled out a map, checking where they were. Psycho couldn't help gaze over Crest's parchment, noting that the basement was a huge complex.

"Alright, its this way." Crest pointed to another hallway, and they made their way forward. Ever so quietly. Ever so stealthily...

OOC:
A small post. Didn't want to write much further.
ETRP/PSC Dev "Psycho" Bandoran/3SQD: "Blackjack"/1PLT: "Wildcard"/1COM: "Phoenix"/1BAT: "Dragon"/1RGT: "Osiris"/VEA/VE/Tadath
[This message has been edited by Psycho (edited March 17, 2012 10:52:40 AM)]
Crest
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Crest
 
[VE-ARMY] Lance Corporal
 
Post Number:  221
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  RE: Cutthroat Competition (Blackjack)
March 17, 2012 11:58:09 AM    View the profile of Crest 
Val motioned with his hand for Crest to proceed down the stairs. Crest gave a sharp nod, acknowledging the command. It did not matter the Crest was the second-in-command; a job was a job, and the person best suited for it was the one who did it. In this case, it was the guy with the infiltration training, Crest. The sometimes-quick-thinking Private Second Class Psycho followed him. Crest slowly stepped down the stairs, making sure his weight was firmly planted on his stationary leg so that his moving leg would set down quietly.

Psycho clunked down the stairs behind him, a result of his heavy armor and weapons. Each step caused Crest to cringe from below his visor. Subconsciously, he flicked off the safety of his M-66SD, expecting one of the mercenaries to notice sometime soon. As the rest of the squad reached the end of the stairs, an eternity for Crest who, with each squeak, was expecting a horde of mercenaries to rush the squad, Crest examined the parchment with the map of the basement. Holograms were too inconvenient for an infiltrator. They were excessively obvious. Parchments, on the other hand, could be view without anybody being the wiser.

“Alright, it’s this way,” Crest informed the squad through the comms.

Silence responded him.

What do you expect? They’re not ‘bout to question you. You’re no longer the fresh-faced new guy anymore, with Dunny guiding you, Kilroy ordering you around with no authority, and Garryll commanding and inspiring you. You are now second-in-command.

Taking a deep breath, Crest slowly inched his way silently down the hallway, even though the squad, who were truly trying to be silent, noisily made their way down the hallway.

Calm down... they’re being as silent as they can be and you can’t do anything to improve that.

The hallway eventually split into a ‘V’. Crest halted the squad and examined his parchment. Both ways went to the elevator, though both would have different defenses. Crest flicked to a personal frequency with Val.

“Boss, we’ve got two options. The left way leads through the armory, and the right way leads through a computer and camera room. You got a preference?”

A silence ruled the comm frequency as Val examined the squad’s choices.

“We could split up the squad. I’ll take the armory, and you’ll take the computer and camera room. Even if one of us is detected, the other one will keep operational secrecy and carry out the mission.”

“How do ever come up with these awesome ideas, boss?”

“Because I’m me. Now who do you want?”

“I’ll take Crusnik, for sure. We don’t want both of the new people in the same group. I’ll also take Psycho, so that I can teach him the meaning of stealth.”

“Meaning I get Alater and Valkyrie? Fine by me.”

Crest flicked back to the squad frequency.

“Crusnik, Psycho, you two are coming with me. We’re taking the computer room on the right side.”

The two of them nodded. Crest turned around and moved forward into the waiting tunnel in a half-crouch, the M-66SD pointing down the hallway. Crest felt himself slowly drop into that half-trance in which he knew he would react to stimuli exactly how an infiltrator was supposed to... until a boot hit the floor loudly behind him. Crest whipped around, bringing the M-66SD dead center of where the noise had come from.

“Um...sorry?”

Psycho looked uncomfortable at having his assistant squad leader pointing a weapon at him. Sighing, Crest lowered the weapon.

“Psycho... I’m going to have to teach you how to sneak just a little bit.”
ASL/LCPL Crest/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/Tadath/VEA/VE| (A1) (6.1) | [ES1] [LM] | {CRoS} | [*QW 12*] (CEC) (ECA)

Assistant to Valthir, the omnipotent god of Blackjack Squad
Infiltration Expert

Imperial Network Star Wars Image

"If you're in a fair fight, you didn't plan it properly" -- Nick Lappos
"Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity and I'm not sure about the former." -- Albert Einstein
Kilroy
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Kilroy
 
[VE-ARMY] Lance Corporal
 
Post Number:  89
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  RE: Cutthroat Competition (Blackjack)
March 17, 2012 4:54:06 PM    View the profile of Kilroy 
“Proceed around the wall and get to the back. You’ll find a balcony to which you can make a short jump. From there proceed to the elevator, we’ll be coming to you.”

“Copy that. I’ll get on it.”

Good to see the scout getting used to being a non-com.  I sure hope he handles well during combat. John thought as he crawled out of his spot to get into his new position.  Although he was a tad sore that when the squad was reorganized and he was overlooked for the position despite his experience; the Cadian was quite surprised and pleased that Crest became his equal in terms of rank.  That being said however, John still wasn't going to be easy on the new corporal all the time, both to nurture the young NCO into the position and help him realize his potential as an Imperial soldier. 

"Heeeyyyysh Billay-boy....C-Come over herrre....I gotttsss to shlow you sum...sumthin."

"W--wha izzat boss?"

Surprised that there were guards this far out, Kilroy quickly went to prone, hoping that he wouldn't be spotted.  Such thoughts were dashed as a pair stumbled, horribly, into his path. Are they......drunk?

"Itzzzzz teh newest inven.....inventio......toy in security.  BEHOLD! A harmonica!"

"Duuude....That....is awesome.  You are the bestsest officer thar is."

Disgusted with the horrid breach in security protocols, Kilroy wasted no time in killing the drunken guards, placing a round in both of their heads.  Dragging their corpses into the bushes, the marksman felt no remorse in killing the two intoxicated civilian officers.  A stray thought for the families of the recently departed was quickly squashed in the highly militaristic mindset of the professional Cadian soldier; their grief was nothing compared to the thousands of ghosts that continued to haunt him. 

"Kilroy to Blackjack, the security outside is sloppy as feth out here.  Watch out for drunks on your end of things, over."

"Val here....could you copy that last statement?  I didn't quite catch it."

"I said the guards are piss poor at their job....I just caught two drunk bastards while repositioning so I wouldn't be surprised if there was any on your end."

"Thanks for the warning, but the game still proceeds as planned.  Continue with your objectives, out."

Roger that Sarge.  Kilroy thought, his job of hiding the evidence complete.  Waiting for to see if any more fools tried to cross his path, he was nonetheless satisfied that the others apparently were more professional than their deceased comrades.  Humorously, the idea of this reminded him of how he himself had opted to go for an armor present that was vastly different that what he normally wore.  Clad in dark green/black camouflage, the Cadian was practically wearing a set of Imperial Army garrison armor, balaclava, and a patrol cap, save for the added tactical gear and additional webbing.  It was, in his opinion, a decent trade off to sacrifice the heavy protection for the necessary mobility he required in this particular venture. 

Time's a wasting....better get a move on.  Slipping quietly from his hideout, Kilroy once more became the silent harbinger of death.  Now if only he could get his hands on his old equipment from his days as an Armored Fist.....
TRP/LCpl Kilroy/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/VEA/VE/[5.1]/[6.1]/[PT]/[EW1]
Valthir
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Valthir
 
[VE-ARMY] Gunnery Sergeant
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Post Number:  527
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  RE: Cutthroat Competition (Blackjack)
March 17, 2012 6:35:32 PM    View the profile of Valthir 
The air inside the tunnels was sweltering, heated by the immense lava moat surrounding the castle. Despite this, it was still slightly damp, being underground. The moisture leaking from cracks in the wall mixed with the heat to whirl up a humid atmosphere. Val was glad of his enclosed armor, else he’d be covered in sweat. Down the length of the hallway, a trail of lights had been strung up on the ceiling, marking the pathway towards the armory, their destination.

Slowly, they traversed the long path, making note of any abnormal sounds that they heard. As Val was stealthiest out of all of them, he stalked a little ahead, while Alater kept Val in his sights and Valkryie took up the rear. Val did not especially enjoy trusting the new recruit to cover their flank, but he had no other option. Alater was not built for stealth, though he was more adept at it than most Barabels. Instead, he was built for close combat, his bulkiness and raw strength being a deciding factor in any confrontation.

“Nothing to report, sir.” came Valkyrie’s voice from his comm.

Not bothering to respond, Val clicked an affirmative and moved deeper into the dank hallway. He had memorized the portion of the map that led to the armory, where an elevator was located, so he at least knew where to go.

He came to a stop at a side passage and held up a hand to stop the other two. He raised his revolver, a large weapon capable of downing most non-armored beings and at least stopping most armored ones, and quietly opened the door. The inside of the room was as brightly lit as the hallway, a fact that Val was immensely glad of as it meant that there was no noticeable change in the light levels that would alert someone.

The door just wide enough to admit him, he slipped through and checked the room. Seeing no one, he rifled through a few cabinets. One frustrated his best efforts to open, though, but not for long. With a muffled crack, he slammed the tip of his boot into the handle, breaking both it and the locking mechanism. Sliding it open, he reached in and came up with an unmarked keycard, pocketing it.

Alater was waiting at the door for him and backed out, speaking in the harsh tones typical of Barabels, “Find anything?”

“Not much. A keycard, though I have no idea where it goes. Hopefully somewhere important, though I doubt it.”

They encountered no other side passages, until just before the armory. The two doors, positioned on either side of the entrance to the armory, were marked, though the paint had long since faded away. Val paused for a moment, deliberating on the next course of action.

“Alater, you take that door and I’ll take this one. Valkyrie, you keep guard out here. Find some place to conceal yourself with sight of these doors. Alert us at even the slightest suspicion that someone is coming. Above all, stay hidden, no matter what. Don’t attempt to attack anyone, unless they have already spotted you.” Val said, and turned to Alater, “See if you can find a way into the armory. I have a feeling that we’re going to have a bit of opposition in there, and it would be best if we had the advantage of surprise. Got it? Right. Go, go.”
Valthir
Adept of the Dark Jedi Order
Pirate Overseer of the Osk Company
Squad Leader of Blackjack Squad

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Psycho
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Psycho
 
[VE-ARMY] Private Second Class
 
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  RE: Cutthroat Competition (Blackjack)
March 18, 2012 10:56:14 AM    View the profile of Psycho 
"So you place your foot down...like this?" Psycho asked, trying to mimic Crest's stealthily movements.

"Well...in theory, yes. But the way you do it..." Crest replied, finding it difficult to teach the bulky ex-police chief stealth. "It would be easier if you didn't have that heavy armor on."

"Where as it'll take one blast to get through your puny armor, it'll take a lot more to get through mine." Psycho smiled in his helmet, clanking his knuckle on his breast plate.

"Yes, but at least I can dodge bullets...alright. Let's just agree that both fighting styles are perfectly fine. They both work, its just a matter of preference."

"I know, I know. I meant no offense in the matter. Now, back to stealth..."

"Hey guys, not to butt in on your discussion, but maybe we should continue," Crusnik, the new trooper, stated. For a new guy, he made a pretty good argument.

"Yeah. We should. Psycho, I'll have to teach you stealth some other time. Just try to make your movements..." He stopped, glancing at the heavy armor. "...light."

With Crest leading the way, making silent but quick movements, they traversed forward down the hall, passing doors and side hallways as they went. The tunnel was humid and hot, most likely from the volcano nearby, but the atmosphere was calm and quiet. The fireteam hearing quiet sounds from above them where the party was. After a moment or two of "stealthy" travelling, the tunnel took a small bend, and down it they could see an open area: the computer and camera room.

Crest put his hand in the air, signalling the fireteam to stop.

"Alright guys, we need to get through that area ahead," he whispered into his helmet, his words only being audible thanks to an interconnected radio system, "I don't know how many soldiers are in there, so what I'm going to do is sneak up to the doorway, and peak in." He gestured down the hall. "You two stay here and look out. If anyone comes from behind, shoot 'em."

"Couldn't we just hide and alert you?" asked Psycho, but Crest gave him the "stupid" look through his helmet.

"Psycho. No offense, but we're talking about you."

"Yeah...I know..."

"Just stay here and blast anyone who comes by, understood?"

The two troopers nodded, and immediately Crest began his silent approach on the doorway. Psycho and Crusnik turned around, keeping an eye on the tunnel from which they came. It was still and quiet, the only movement coming from drips of water, moistening the already humid atmosphere.

Suddenly, Crusnik opened up a frequency with Psycho. "You hear that?" he said, gesturing down the hall. Psycho shook his head. "I think someone might be coming. Let's get out weapons ready." The two troopers raised there rifles, fingers on the triggers ready to shoot. Psycho's rifle, a DLT-19, extended several more inches than Crusnik's, making it a more accurate, powerful, and heavier rifle. The two stood side by side, weapons raised, and the suspense of the moment gaining strength as time ticked on.

Crusnik jumped at the sound of Crest's voice over the radio, and Psycho chuckled at the frightened trooper. "Hey guys," Crest began, "There are about five guards in the room. They're scattered about monitoring the live camera feed. Think we can take 'em?"

"I'm positive we could," Crusnik replied, optimistic about the situation.

"Alright. Great. Make your way down the hall. Just be quiet, we don't want to alert th-" Suddenly, Psycho let out a blast from his colossal rifle, nailing an incoming guard in the chest. The smoldering body dropped to the floor, the sound from the blast echoing around the hall. Crest cringed as he heard the guards get up to investigate.

"Sorry boss," Psycho muttered.

"No time for apologies! Get in position and ready to fire on these guards! I can take a few out from where I am." The two troopers turned around, and jumped on the floor, laying in prone position to fire. Ahead of them, Crest sat crouched beside the doorway, raising his rifle.

"Ready Crus?" Psycho asked, nudging his squad mate.

"Absolutely. Though, I'd feel worse if you weren't by my side."

"I can say the same, bud. Though, I'm not that good. Am I?"

"I would say its your huge rifle and beserkerness that calms me."

"I appreciate the complement, though, you're not too bad of a shot yourself. Now, let's kick some guard ass!"
ETRP/PSC Dev "Psycho" Bandoran/3SQD: "Blackjack"/1PLT: "Wildcard"/1COM: "Phoenix"/1BAT: "Dragon"/1RGT: "Osiris"/VEA/VE/Tadath
Valkryie
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Valkryie
 
[VE-ARMY] Private Second Class
 
Post Number:  20
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  RE: Cutthroat Competition (Blackjack)
March 18, 2012 7:20:10 PM    View the profile of Valkryie 
”The order was to stay here and guard” she thought. Another important assignment she was tasked to do. Just like the time when she was ordered to cover their back when they were headed for the armory. She looked around the room for the best vantage point to cover the doors Valthir pointed to her and make sure she wont be spotted if anyone else came in the room.

She first head towards the cabinet that Valthir cracked open. The debris that scattered on the floor shows up a clear sign that someone else was in the room. Valkryie picked them up and threw them inside the cabinet and closed them.

”Now where I could hide?”

Huge container drums are stocked in the corners on both side of the doors. Valkryie moved a couple of the drums just enough for her to slip in. She positioned her self so she could have the angle to give cover for both doors.

“Sir, I am in place and everything is covered” Valkryie reported over the comm.

The same as before she didn’t get any response from the squad leader other than a click as an affirmative. ”What did I do to pissed him off I wonder?” she asked herself. She went and focused back to the task at hand.

All of a sudden a guard, probably doing a standard operating procedure, came in the armory. The guard took some gas mask, he wore one of them and took another one. As he was about to leave the armory he stepped on a a piece of wood. The crack was heard across the room.

”Darn it, now where did that freaking piece come from?” Valkryie said as she tried to look at the guard who kneeled down to check what he stepped on. Apparently she did not picked everything clean.

The guard picked up the piece and slowly stood up. He looked up at the entrance of the armory and tried to make sure that there was not a force entry or something. The guard will definitely check the other side of the room.

The rookie holstered her pistol and prepared to lunge forward. She knew that the guard will see her for sure. As soon as the guard faced the direction where she was staying Valkryie, burst out of hiding and surprised the guard with a haymaker that landed on his jaw.

The man dropped with a resounding thud on the ground. Valkryie shook her hand in pain ”that was a hard nut to crack” she thought.

Valkryie crouched and checked the man for anything that might compromise their mission and as soon as she was able to secure the hands and feet of the guard she dragged him to one of the empty containers and tucked him tight. She went back to the corner along with the drums and hid again. Hoping that there wont be anymore problems that will arrive.
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TRP/PSC Mira 'Valkryie' Strax/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/VEA/VE
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"Optimum est pati quod emendare non possis"
[This message has been edited by Valkryie (edited March 18, 2012 9:29:14 PM)]
Crusnik
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Crusnik
 
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  RE: Cutthroat Competition (Blackjack)
March 19, 2012 5:28:28 PM    View the profile of Crusnik 
Crusnik nodded in acknowledgment and looked down the sight of his modified M82-G Assault Rifle. He saw crest move behind the door way and readied himself. The doors opened and two guards walked out of the surveillance room.

Ok, now remember your training.

“You got the first one, I got the second,” Psycho whispered in to his com.

“Got it,” Crusnik replied.

Crusnik then inhaled and aimed.

The two guards turned and noticed them, but before they could react, Crusnik and Psycho fired at the same time. Both guards fell, one with a few holes in his chest and the other smoldering.

“Now that was perfect, we were in total sink,” Psycho said, while getting up.

“That was pretty cool,” Crusnik replied, while he got to his feet.

They both then heard the sound of gunfire coming from the surveillance room and both sprinted toward the door. Once the reached for the door they saw Crest messing with a monitor and three bodies on the floor.

“Took you guys long enough,” Crest stated, as he turned around to face them.

“Sorry,” Psycho answered.

Crusnik shrugged

“Well don’t just stand there pull in the bodies and shut the door,” Crest ordered, as he turned back to the monitor.

They both nodded and walked over to the bodies. Crusnik grabbed the bodies, while Psycho closed the door. Crusnik could smell the burnt flesh and fabric from the guard that Psycho shot.  He then dropped the bodies in the right corner of the room and turned toward Crest

“Oh, don’t forget the one down the hall, psycho, and Crusnik you cover the hall,” Crest ordered, while he looked over his shoulder.

Psycho sighed headed out the door and down the hall. Crusnik covered the hall and watched Psycho as he headed down the hall.

That’s going to suck, he shot a big guy. It’ll take him a minute or two.

After a minute Psycho came around the corner dragging the dead guard struggling.

“Need any help?” Crusnik asked.

“Nope …..I got it,” Psycho replied, as he pulled the body along.

Crusnik opened the door for him and followed him in shutting the door behind him.  When they had entered, Crest was cutting and crossing wires.

Do you know what you’re doing?” Crusnik asked Crest.

“Yep disabling everything and bring me those burned bodies, I have an idea,” Crest ordered, as he messed with the wires.

Crusnik and psycho took the two dead guards, that Psycho had shot, over to Crest. Crest then took a couple of wires and connected them to the dead guard’s hands. After a few moments their hands began to smoke and smell of burnt flesh came through Crusnik’s helmet. He backed away from the bodies as Crest took off the wires from thier hands.

“Ahh, I see make it look like an electrical death,” Crusnik said.

“Yep,” Crest replied as he positioned the bodies.

“Do you want us to throw the rest in the storage closet?” Psycho asked, as he pointed to the closet.

“Yah that will do, we need to move out soon so make it quick,” Crest ordered.
TRP/PSC Crusnik/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/Tadath/VEA/VE
Quote:He wins his battles by making no mistakes. Making no mistakes is what establishes the certainty of victory, for it means conquering an enemy that is already defeated. --The Art of War by Sun Tzu Chapter IV:Tactical Dispositions
Crest
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Crest
 
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  RE: Cutthroat Competition (Blackjack)
March 21, 2012 5:07:09 PM    View the profile of Crest 
“Yeah, that’ll do. We need to get moving soon, so try and make it quick.”

Crest watched as Psycho and Crusnik stored the excess bodies up in a very convenient storage closet. Sighing he kneeled at the computer and cameras. While he had gutted the wires, he was looking for something else. He still had not found a computer. While replacing wires would not be hard, replacing a whole computer could turn into a very monumental task, one that would guarantee Blackjack the time it needed to kidnap Senesca and finish its mission.

I wonder how Val is? He’ll probably be fine. I bet it’s a lot better for him without a person who wants to BLAST EVERYTHING IN SIGHT! Speaking of which, I’m going to have to return his ‘favor’ of blowing our cover... maybe a nice, empty patrol around the... forest? Nah, too many animals to hunt... I’ll think of something torturous.

Crest threw up his hands, giving up on finding the computer. His right hand slammed, quite painfully, into a monitor that had been displaying a camera feed. A panel came crashing down, although Crest, frankly, was more interested in his hand.

He slowly flexed his hand checking for any cuts or bruises. Finding none, he gently picked up the panel and proceeded to replace it.

“Uh, we’ve got some alcohol in the closet. Guess they were drinking on the job.”

Crest turned around at Psycho’s voice, his brain racing miles ahead of his physical body.

“Hand that over here, Psycho.”

Psycho quickly obeyed Crest’s command and dutifully handed over the two bottles. Crest quickly slipped the caps off both of them. Walking over to the first of the guards, Crest shoved the guards hands into the tangle of wires above, and then proceeded to pour a fair amount of alcohol into his mouth. It would never stand up in an autopsy, but the mission would be done then. He then emptied the rest of the bottles on the various guards that were left, making it seem like they had ingested a lethal amount of alcohol and the last one had committed suicide to prevent punishment. Of course, it would never stand up in an autopsy because the alcohol would never reach the blood stream, but, then again, the mission would be done by the time a proper autopsy could be performed.

“You two done storing the bodies yet? Or do I have enough time to wreak some more havoc on this place?”

Crusnik slammed the door of the storage closet, perhaps a bit more than needed, for dramatic effect.

“Just finished.”

“Alright, let’s form up. Adopt a Delta formation; I’ll take point.”

Crest lightly moved towards the door. Psycho clunked down on his right; Crusnik, comparatively, quietly moved over to Crest’s left.

“Let’s roll. Shoot only if necessary.”

Crest threw a Do-it-or-else glance over towards Psycho. Psycho’s shoulders slumped an immeasurable amount as he signaled his consent.

The trio made its way pushing through the hot, yet damp, tunnels. Psycho seemed to be making a slight improvement in stealth, saving a sliver of Crest’s sanity. The length of the hallway was devoured by brisk pace of the trio. The only life-form they met was a small rat, which scurried out of the quick-moving boots of the stormtroopers.

As a door appeared, Crest motioned for the other two troopers to slow down. With the time he gained, Crest pulled out the parchment and examined the area.

“Alright, elevator’s here. Enter and clear; don’t shoot Val and them if they’re here.”

The two troopers nodded their respective acknowledgements. Psycho lumbered towards the right side of the door.

“Psycho? Not you. You’re coming back here. We’ll call for the artillery if we need it.”

Psycho sighed and accepted Crest’s order.

It’s not fair for him. He’s not used to stealth. I’ll make sure to get him a good round of combat, if not this mission, then next mission.

Crest lined up on the door. He looked up at Crusnik, waiting for the new trooper’s affirmation that he was ready. Crusnik nodded once. Crest brought up three fingers. He slowly lowered one, followed by the other. When the last one came down, Crest threw the door open, and Crusnik affected rapid entry. Crest was right on his heels.

The room was devoid of mercenaries. The elevator stood imposingly at the back of the room.

“Psycho, move up.”

“Copy that.”

Psycho thumped his way into the room. Crest set up a rudimentary defense.

“Crusnik, cover the door we just came through. Psycho, cover the elevator. I’ll cover Val’s door.”

The three Blackjacks jumped to their places.

Come on, Val.

Silence ruled the room as the three Blackjacks waited for their respected Squad Leader and his team...
OOC:
We're in position.
ASL/LCPL Crest/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/Tadath/VEA/VE| (A1) (6.1) (6.2) | [ES1] [LM] | {CRoS} | [*QW 12*] (CEC) (ECA)

Assistant to Valthir, the omnipotent god of Blackjack Squad
@Sharpshooter@

"If you're in a fair fight, you didn't plan it properly" -- Nick Lappos
"Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity and I'm not sure about the former." -- Albert Einstein
Kilroy
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Kilroy
 
[VE-ARMY] Lance Corporal
 
Post Number:  91
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  RE: Cutthroat Competition (Blackjack)
March 22, 2012 2:44:41 PM    View the profile of Kilroy 
Climb up the wall they said.....It will be easy they said.....HAVE THEY SEEN THIS WALL!?

Looking down from his current position, John couldn't help but wonder at what the architects were thinking of when they created this place.  Granted, the mansion looked set up like any of the other ones nearby; but who ever designed the blue prints was clearly on some sort of hallucinogenic of sorts.  What should have been an easy ten minute climb, took him the better part of two hours as he navigated his way up it.  Sighing, the Cadian quietly activated his mic so that he could give a quick sitrep to the rest of the squad. Hopefully they're having better luck than I am. 

"Kil here, finally made it up the wall.  When this mission is over...Can I set the place on fire?"

"No.....and what took you?"

"Weeelllllll..."

---

Earlier

Commence Operation: SAVE HYRULE'S PRINCESS!...I mean uh...kidnap. Kilroy thought as he reached the mansion's outer wall.  Less than five minutes had passed after his initial encounter with the drunken guards and so far it had appeared that those were the only ones out on perimeter duty.  This made things considerably easier on him as he didn't have to worry about any other patrols accidentally spotting him during his climb up.  Oddly though, he wondered why the flowers around the wall looked a lot healthier than the rest in the garden.

Looking at the wall, John could tell that it was going to be a somewhat difficult climb to get across.  If it wasn't for the various patchworks of vines that crawled up the smooth surface of the wall, he probably wouldn't have been able to make it up without causing some noise.  Regretfully, since he somehow conveniently forgot his rappelling gear, scaling the wall meant the Cadian would be punching into the wall, just like when he first found out about the augmentations done to him. 

Getting a good grip along a patch of vines that appeared to be firmly grounded, he began to slowly climb the wall, a feat that could have gone faster if stealth wasn't an issue.  About a quarter of the way up though, John began to hear something, or rather felt the vibrations, of something flowing through the walls innards.  Where the feth is that noise coming from?  He thought, cautiously freezing in his current position incase the wall had some sort of unseen security measure.  His caution rewarded him as the area he was just about to cross opened up, releasing a rather decent amount of fluid with what appear....no...that was just his imagination.  Although, that might explain why there weren't any bags of fertilizer in the garden shed.
---

One hour later


"Jennnnyyy, come on!  I'll be quick about it."

"Fine!  But it's not my fault if you're caught!"

Once again, John 'Kilroy' Varl had to postpone his rendezvous with the rest of Blackjack as his journey up the wall had reached another impasse.  However, unlike the other obstacles that the Cadian had to pass, this time the wall merely slid open with the faint scent of......was that Redwood Brand Cigars he was smelling?  Curious, and hoping to find an alternate path, John slowly peeked inside the opening; amazed at the various hunting trophies that filled the room and most especially pleased at the open box of cigars that stood next to the window.  Not missing the opportunity, John 'requisitioned' several of them, carefully filing them into a tactical hard-case as it had been a rather long time since he got a chance to smoke one of Captain Shrike's favored pleasures.  Hehehe haven't had one of these since we crushed the UCF, back when we celebrated his brother making it into Heinlein Acadamey and just before....oh feth!!

Cursing himself for not even realizing that there was a pair of maids in the room, John quickly backed out of the window and hid himself from sight.  Luckily for him, they had not noticed him as they were focused on something upon one of the walls.  Unfortunately however, it appeared that whatever they intended to do involved the use of that particular window.  Hearing foot steps, the Cadian cringed as they continued to get closer and closer to his position.  The thought of having to kill someone that wasn't even remotely a threat horrified him; the irony that he had killed an immeasurable number of civilians back on Vallock or Sanctuary without hesitation, was lost to him at the current moment.  Please don't look down....please don't look down...please do-Woah!  That's one helluva rack!  Definitely taking a picture of that.

---

Present

"Let's just say that there were several....obstacles on the wall that impeded my climb.:

"Riiight.....Just hurry up and get to the elevator."
TRP/LCpl Kilroy/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/VEA/VE/[5.1]/[6.1]/[PT]/[EW1]
[This message has been edited by Kilroy (edited March 22, 2012 3:05:29 PM)]
Psycho
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Psycho
 
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  RE: Cutthroat Competition (Blackjack)
March 24, 2012 4:37:36 PM    View the profile of Psycho 
Psycho, for the first time in awhile, and to Crest’s relief, stood silently and still, his rifle aimed and focused on the elevator. Behind him, Crusnik, the new trooper to the squad, covered where they had been previously, and Crest covered where the rest of the squad would supposedly end up.

“Hear anything, Crest?” Psycho asked, “I’m tired of sitting around here. Let’s get the rest of the squad and shoot something.”

“Now, now, Psycho,” Crest replied, using the tone of a mother scolding her child, “They’ll arrive. You need patience.”

Psycho chuckled. Patience was one thing he did not have. If he wanted something, he wanted it right then and there.

“You two,” Crusnik urged, “Quiet down. I think I hear something.” They hushed down and focused on their hearing, trying to pick up any sign of a noise. Though, Psycho didn’t hear anything, soon giving up. In boredom, he checked his rifle, observing the crests and ridges that such a weapon possessed.

A moment later, he heard the Cathar chuckle. “It’s that little mouse that we saw earlier.”

“That’s what was causing the noise?” Psycho asked, proceeding toward Crusnik. “Darned little thing.” He raised his several foot long rifle, aiming carefully at the rodent.

“Psycho,” Crest nagged, “please. That’s unnecessary.” But his protests were too late, for Psycho had pulled the trigger, sending an oversized blast hurtling towards the mouse. However, the blast, regardless of how big it was, missed the rodent as it jumped sideways, hearing the sound of Crest’s voice.

“Darned little bugger,” Psycho snorted.

“Darn it Psycho! The sound from that blast is going to be heard all through this floor now! Just relax, man. Val will be here shortly. Let’s hope no one heard that.”

“I’m sorry, all mighty Assistant Squad Leader.”

“You better be,” Crest jokingly replied. The two troopers had different tastes, different styles of doing things, and different personalities. But it was hard to say they didn’t like each other. The two, though disagreeing at times, got along well because of their differences. You needed all different kinds of people in a squad, which was why Blackjack was great to work in.

Only a second later, Val and his fireteam quietly hustled down the hall, attempting to make their approach as stealthily as possible.

“Ah good,” Crest greeted, “You’re here.” Glancing at Val, they noticed he was carrying more than the usual load. “What’s with the extra stuff?”

Panting a little more than usual, Val dropped a large cylindrical weapon on the floor. “That,” he said, “Is a Z-6 rotary blaster cannon. We found one in the armory. I thought Psycho might like it.” Just like the buttery, savory rolls, Psycho dived toward the large weapon, hugging it like a person.

“Ah darn,” Crest moaned, “You didn’t get anything for me.”

“Not so fast, ASL.” Val then removed a long item from his back. It stretched several feet, just like Psycho’s old weapon, but this one had a scope. A pretty accurate looking one too, the rest of the squad thought.

Crest grabbed the weapon, grasping it like a long lost friend. He and Psycho were very glad indeed.

“Alright, crew. Let’s pile into this elevator now. Safeties on! We don’t want anyone getting fried while we’re in close quarters.” Like clockwork, all of the squad members entered the elevator, finding a place to squeeze themselves and their weapons. Though, it was a military grade elevator, meaning it was supposed to take loads of soldiers, with a Barbarel and Psycho, there wasn’t much room.

Psycho ended up in one of the corners, pressed against Crusnik and Valthir.

“I love you, Val. But this is a little bit close to my liking,” Psycho kiddingly muttered.

“Quiet you,” he replied, moving his arm into a more comfortable position, before attempting to glare at Psycho and Alater.  “If we had normal sized people, this might be a bit easier.” Psycho chuckled. He was bulky and he knew it. Though, he was the fastest sprinter of them all, always the one to rush straight into enemy fire and cover his squad mates.

Someone pressed a button, and the lift rose upward. The temperature of the tight space rose, as did the smell. Several sweaty men (and a woman) in hot armor would definitely cast an aura. A minute later, the lift stopped, and the doors opened, allowing the several squad members to break free of the close quarters.

“Alright,” Val commanded, “Start looking for Gallis’ daughter. Don’t worry about security. Their only checkpoint is at the basement. Also, steal anything and you’ll regret it. We may look like mercs, but at least show some decency. Move out.”

Psycho grabbed his Z-6, mounting it on his back, and casually walked down a hall, almost as if he owned the place. It was furnished lavishly, with expensive carpets and paintings. Randomly, he opened a door and peeked inside. There was a large bed, finely covered in colorful silks and  blankets. To Psycho, it looked like the average “rich person’s” bedroom, and he shut the door.

Several rooms later, he had still not found Gallis’ daughter, not had anyone else. Though, the floor was huge, and they had only skimmed the first few rooms.

This man is rich. Too rich...

ETRP/PSC Dev "Psycho" Bandoran/3SQD: "Blackjack"/1PLT: "Wildcard"/1COM: "Phoenix"/1BAT: "Dragon"/1RGT: "Osiris"/VEA/VE/Tadath

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Heavy Weapon's Specialist
Crusnik
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Crusnik
 
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  RE: Cutthroat Competition (Blackjack)
March 25, 2012 10:10:29 PM    View the profile of Crusnik 
Crusnik moved away from the group and made his way down one of the halls to the right of the elevator. There were five rooms down the long hall way, and all had the same red wood door with a silver handle that swirled at the end of it. He started with the door closest to him on the left side of the hall and worked his way down.

The first and the second doors Crusnik opened were rooms that were both brightly lit by a hanging light in the center of the room, revealing half-painted walls and painting supplies scattered crossed both rooms.

The third door was a small bedroom  that had pale blue walls, with a gilded mirror, two polished walnut dressers side by side and some sort of flowers that were potted and hung in the corner of the room under a UV light on the left side of the room. On the right side of the room were two lamps with clear crystal bases with human women etched into them that gave off a soft light that splashed light on to a painting of a blue moon that hung on the wall next to the lamps. The bed was centered in the middle of the room and was well made, covered in white sheets, four white feather pillows with light blue trim, a dark-blue  blanket with a weighted down pale blue comforter with dark blue silk trim. The rug was white with light and dark blue, different shaped circles and had a soft texture.

Who can stand this much blue and white?!

The room didn’t show any signs that someone lived in it yet, so he moved on to the next door.

The fourth door he opened was a linen closet filled with white and blue sheets, pillow cases, blankets and comforters.

Great! more blue and white.

He moved on to the last door across the hall.

The fifth door he opened was a large study. Crusnik's boots clanked on the tile as he walked into the room and looked around the room. In the center of the room was a circular fish tank filled with weird creachers that was about four feet long, five feet wide and touched the ceiling. He then moved to the right side of the room. The right side of the room had two brown leather upholstered chairs and a black leather upholstered couch that sat on an intricate designed rug. Behind the chairs and couch were book cases that reached the ceiling, covered the wall and were filled with books. He then turned and walked over to the left side of the room, passing a few paintings and portraits along the way.

After he passed the fish tank again, Crusnik stopped at the desk/hologram communicator. Behind the desk was another brown leather upholstered chair and a screen behind the chair. Crusnik went around the desk and looked through the main drawer and only found stock information. He then looked through the left drawers found more stock in formation papers and a basic blaster pistol. After that he checked the right drawer s. The bottom drawer on the right was locked. He pulled out his Treppus-2 Vibroblade, cut through the lock and opened the drawer. Inside was the drawer was a few important documents and a tribal necklace of some sort, with a symbol attached to it.

I have seen this somewhere before, but I can’t remember where…I need to find out what it is and where it came from.

Crusnik then slipped the necklace into one of his pockets, put everything back the way it was and walked out of the room.

“It’s clear down this hall, making my way to you guys now,” Crusnik said, through his com-link to the rest of the group.
TRP/PSC Crusnik/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/Tadath/VEA/VE (A11)

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Quote:He wins his battles by making no mistakes. Making no mistakes is what establishes the certainty of victory, for it means conquering an enemy that is already defeated. --The Art of War by Sun Tzu Chapter IV:Tactical Dispositions
[This message has been edited by Crusnik (edited March 25, 2012 10:16:30 PM)]
[This message has been edited by Crusnik (edited April 1, 2012 5:06:51 PM)]
Valthir
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Valthir
 
[VE-ARMY] Gunnery Sergeant
[VE-DJO] Adept
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  RE: Cutthroat Competition (Blackjack)
March 26, 2012 6:54:40 PM    View the profile of Valthir 
Val raised his rifle as he edged around the corner of a door, his eyes scanning the room before he had even fully entered. Caution paid off, as Val had already proven. Three times, Val had come across a guard, managing to take each one down before they had been able to react. Flanking him, Alater watched warily as his SL moved deeper into the room.

Blackjack had encountered a bottleneck, all traffic funneling down into one expansive room. Once inside, they fanned out and moved across to the exit. As was natural, upon discovering that the exit forked off in different directions, Blackjack divided in two, each half led by Val and Crest respectively.

They cleared rooms swiftly, calling out over the comm each time. They rapidly progressed through the floor, and, after rejoining, Val paused before a set of double doors.

“We’re coming up on the room in which the daughter should be, according to Intel. Keep steady. Intel has been wrong before and it wouldn’t be good to be caught unawares.”

Stepping forward, he stood to one side of the door, while Crest took up position on the opposite side. Slipping the door open, he slid through, followed by his ASL, and began scanning the room as he had done multiple times before. However, this time, something was wrong.

On the wall adjacent to the one that they were entering through, a door swung open, admitting a jovial pair of armored troopers, each carrying their rifles in a relaxed pose. Reacting instantly, Val backed up, pushing Crest back, who suddenly saw the intruders. Only Psycho had managed to enter in by that time and it didn’t take much to force him back into the room that they had just left.

“What gives?” he said, spreading his hands.

Crest answered tersely, “New Republic Commandos. Back, back.”

Obediently, Blackjack snapped to attention and retreated a few rooms back. Along the way, Crest opened a private comm channel to Val.

“Did you see the daughter?” he asked.

“No.” Val simply said.

His answer was a deep sigh from his second-in-command, as Crusnik spoke up, “What now?”

“Now? We find out what just happened and what went wrong.”

OOC:
It's a bad post, sorry guys, but I needed to move the story along. As you can tell, the daughter wasn't where she was supposed to be, and we encountered NR commandos instead.
Valthir
Adept of the Dark Jedi Order
Pirate Overseer of the Osk Company
Squad Leader of Blackjack Squad

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Crest
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Crest
 
[VE-ARMY] Corporal
 
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  RE: Cutthroat Competition (Blackjack)
March 27, 2012 4:57:08 PM    View the profile of Crest 
Dammit! Where’d they come from?

Crest flicked his comms back to the private frequency with Val.

“Where the hell did they come from? We were supposed to have struck before either a New Republic or Thrawnist even suspected a strike. We were supposed to be able to do this with nearly zero opposition.”

Crest heard a sigh from the other side of the comms.

“I’ve got no idea, Crest. What does matter, though? Take rear-guard and we’ll move. We do have a camera room up here, I think.”

As Val said it, Crest plunged his hand onto the pocket on his belt and retrieved the parchment. On one side was the basement and the main floor; the other side had a map of the second floor. Crest briefly scanned it and found what he was looking for.

“Yeah, if we go down this hallway halfway, on the left there’ll be a camera room.”

“Then grab someone and get rear-guard as the squad drops back.”

Both squad leader and assistant squad leader flicked back to the squad frequency. Val handed out a rudimentary briefing on the change of plan as Crest found Crusnik.

“Crusnik? We’re staying here for a moment for rear-guard.”

The Cathar nodded and dropped into a crouch on the other side of the hallway. Crest silently slid the bolt of the Whisper Subsonic Sniper Rifle, loading a live round into the chamber.

As Val called out for the squad to move out, Crest silently rested his head on the stock of his rifle. His eye saw through the scope exactly where his round was going to go. The seconds dripped through the fabric of the moment.

Crest cringed as he heard the squad smash open the door to the camera room.

Oh, I mean, there’s nothing like a blasted NR commando squad over here. Set off a C-22 frag grenade next! Or maybe a thermal det! That’s definitely not going to attract their attention.

“Clear! Move up, Crest and Crusnik.”

Crest waved a hand at Crusnik, motioning him back. The Cathar slipped back stealthily... at least more stealthily than Psycho and his Z-6 Rotary Cannon. Crest glanced back, looking at the Cathar’s progress. Approximately fifteen seconds slipped by before Crusnik reached the camera room and turned around to cover Crest. Crest, not abandoning his crouch, rapidly backpedaled towards Crusnik. Reaching the camera room, Crest took one step to the right and entered the camera room. He slung his rifle onto the back and walked over to Val, who was motioning for him.

The squad leader kept it brief and terse.

“Watch.”

Crest quietly obeyed and watched. It took him but a moment to realize the setting. The meeting for the discussion of the vote had already started. Val casually extended a hand to the audio controls and routed audio towards Crest.

The video was focused on the stage, where the viewpoints were being presented. A man, whom Crest identified as Ricni Irror from the video, was speaking.

“-will become a weapons research company! There are governments out there willing to pay very handsomely for new technology. Civilian companies can’t pay that well. Each person here could be at least a millionaire! Research-”

Gallis Navarr slid into the debate.

“Research? Do you know what research is? It is creating new technologies! I am a creator! I will not be the catalyst in wars and weapons.”

Irror slipped back into the debate, clearly intent on securing public approval.

“You, Navarr? You may be forgetting that, while you hold a large share in this company, you are not the company. We, the company as a whole, will decide what we do!”

Gallis opened his mouth to refute Irorr’s latest statement, but was stopped.

“Perhaps I can influence this decision.”

Crest whipped his head around to Val.

“Who could that be, Val? There were two only heavyweights in this decision, right?”

The squad leader shrugged.

The time passed agonizingly slowly as the stockholders waited for the newest speakers to take the stage. Blackjack’s wait was even more agonizing as curiosity filled the impatient soldiers of the well-oiled killing machine.

After an agonizing wait, a woman stepped into the view of the camera as she walked up the stage. Though, that was not what caught Crest’s attention. It was the double-file New Republic commando squad behind her.

“Father-”

Dammit! What the hell is Senesca doing there? And why the hell is she with a full New Republic commando squad?

“Perhaps you do not fully understand the ramification of the choices. If we switch to weapons research, the New Republic has promised us to buy our technology at one and a half of the fair market value.”

Gallis stood stunned for a second, before recovering his wit.

“And what if we refuse?”

A grim smile touched Senesca’s lips.

“Perhaps these commandos, and the regular troops which’ll be arriving soon, can... shall we say shift this vote in my favor?”

Gallis’ face went pale. Ricni became livid, though.

“I knew something like this would happen! Thrawnist stormtroopers are already deployed at the base of the spire! None of you will survive!”

A flick of Senesca’s finger and the commandos executed Irror.

Val reached out and shut the camera off.

“This is a bloodbath now. We can’t win the vote, so we proceed with the contingency plan.”

Val swept the Blackjacks with his eyes.

“Let’s move!”
OOC:
Let's roll and demolish, 'jacks. Take the story home. Everything is now in the open, and we've got nothing to hide.

Orders: Move through the 2nd floor to the balcony on the back, to which a certain Kilroy should be coming to (/me glares), you'll find an open staircase to the roof. In the middle of the roof (which is a terrace), you'll find a vent with a 2 foot diameter. Set up a beacon for orbital bombardment, then escape the spire. Beware of New Republic commandos already in the castle, and further regular NR troops will be deploying soon. At the bottom of the spire, there will be Thrawnist stromtroopers. Don't worry 'bout stealth now. If you have questions to terrain/setting/ideas, catch me on IRC or PM me or check to see if it answered in the initial post.
ASL/CPL Crest/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/Tadath/VEA/VE| (A1) (6.1) (6.2) | [ES1] [EW1] [LM] [CDS] | {CRoS} | [*QW 12*] (CEC) (WtR) (ECA)

Assistant to Valthir, the omnipotent god of Blackjack Squad
@Sharpshooter@

"If you're in a fair fight, you didn't plan it properly"
"Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity and I'm not sure about the former."
Kilroy
ComNet Novice
 
Kilroy
 
[VE-ARMY] Lance Corporal
 
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  RE: Cutthroat Competition (Blackjack)
March 27, 2012 8:34:49 PM    View the profile of Kilroy 
A small jump....Well, unless you miss, then it becomes a long trip back up here.  John thought, amused at just how small the balcony appeared to be from his current position.  Despite the earlier reference Crest had made, he couldn't help but wonder if his fellow corporal knew about all this beforehand.  Nonetheless, the Cadian pushed such idle thoughts from his mind as he got ready to jump down onto the balcony.  Edging towards the end of the wall, John made some minor adjustments before taking a step back a-

"Kilroy you in position?"

Jumping at the sudden interruption of radio silence, Kilroy nearly fell off the wall as his surprised reaction practically caused him to freeze in the middle of a jump.  As he fought to regain his composure, Kilroy let out a small hiss into the mic to voice his displeasure.  The fact that if he had fallen would have meant a repeat of the journey to his current position did not amuse him at all.

"Was about to be till you nearly caused me to fall off the giant wall of surprises."

"Heh, sorry bout that.  Listen up, we just had a pitch come straight out of left field here so drop what you are doing and wait for us."

"Does that mean I don't have to jump to the balcony anymore and can just soak up the moonlight?"

"Very funny smartass, but I doubt the Republic Commandos will let you do that."

"Roger that...Moving now to so I can get comfy, out."

Republic Commandos, weeeeaaaak!  John chuckled at the last bit of info. New Republic Special Forces, especially most of their tier 1 programs, were the laughing stock amongst the various tier 2 groups back in his home sector and a few neighboring ones as well.  That being said however, the Cadian had to admit that their Raptors and Pathfinders were very good at their jobs; a healthy amount of respect aimed mostly at the Pathfinders though due to their competence and risk involved to being one. 

Turning back to what was currently at hand,  Kilroy once again resumed his jump towards the balcony.  With no more distractions or setbacks, the Cadian made a near perfect landing as a rather loud crunch of material beneath his feet marred any soft landings.  Huh, could have sworn the balcony was made of sterner stuff.  Heedless of the fact that he had cracked a lot more than just the marble surface, the veteran engineer quietly made his way into the room and took up shop. Time to hurry up and wait. 
TRP/LCpl Kilroy/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/VEA/VE/[5.1]/[6.1]/[PT]/[EW1]
Echelon
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  RE: Cutthroat Competition (Blackjack)
April 1, 2012 2:32:00 PM    View the profile of Echelon 
Delete me.

I forget that I'm signed in as Echelon.

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[This message has been edited by Echelon (edited April 1, 2012 2:34:09 PM)]
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  RE: Cutthroat Competition (Blackjack)
April 1, 2012 2:33:06 PM    View the profile of Psycho 
“Crest,” Val ordered, gesturing towards the assistant squad leader, “You take the front. We’ll need your quickness if someone pops out. Psycho, you get behind him. We might need your...” He stopped, trying to find the right word to describe his squad member. “...your arsenal. Alright Blackjack, let’s move!”

Following Crest, Psycho stepped into the lavish hallway, hearing the rest of the squad trod behind him. He quickly glanced behind his shoulder to see Alater, his dagger like claws reaching out from his glove, and immediately became more confident knowing the huge Barbarel was on his side. Turning his vision back to the front, he raised his rotary cannon and gazed about the area, prepared to pump 166 rounds into anything that moved, but nothing did. The hallway was quiet and still, not counting the loud footsteps the squad made. Almost too quiet, as Psycho thought. Slowly, but soundly, he started to feel a little bit of suspense, and he was sure his squad mates were too. Something was about to happen, and he knew it.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a New Republic Commando stepped out right in front of the squad from a side hallway, running into Crest. The two troopers stepped back, dazed from the sudden impact before Crest hit him over the head with his rifle. The New Republic Commando fell to the floor with a thud, groaning and moving his limbs in pain. His chest ruptured violently as Crest blasted a bolt into his armor, ending the life of the soldier.

“Shit!” Crusnik called out, “I didn’t see that coming!”

“Doesn’t matter! The rest of his squad is in that hallway. Get back!” The stormtroopers of Blackjack stepped back as Crest took up position at the corner of the junction. He slid his head behind cover, trying to get a better look, but almost immediately pulled it back - a blast en route to his helmet.

“Psycho!” he yelled, a steady stream of blaster fire coming from the side hallway, “Take position at the other corner. I’ll cover you. You four, get to the rooftop and meet with Kilroy. Secure it for us while we take these commandos out.” Immediately, Psycho stormed through the blaster bolts, not waiting for Crest to cover him. The red streams of plasma flew by him, at times almost grazing him, but he slid behind the wall uncathed, ready to fight. Behind him, Val, Valkerie, Alater, and Crusnik followed, rushing past him to get to the rooftop. Psycho leaned against the wall, grasping his rotary cannon before stepping behind cover, and releasing his suppressive fire.

The hallway was already filled with scorch marks and smoke, but the 166 rounds per second fired from Psycho made it even more that way. The rounds shot straight forward, shredding through furniture and tapestries. The Commandos immediately ducked behind their cover, scared at what Psycho’s weapon could do. Beside him, Crest shot a few well placed rounds, slamming into a soldier who had decided to poke his head up for a second.

“Alright Psycho,” Crest quietly said, his voice barely audible over the screaming roar of Psycho’s gun. “Don’t keep them down that long, we want them to come up.”

“Or,” Psycho replied, grinning in his helmet, “We could go to them.” Before Crest could protest, Psycho stopped his fire and charged down the hallway, entering a room where a commando was hid. Finding the commando next to him, Psycho immediately fired, feeling the concussive kickback of the weapon. The commando dropped to the floor in a shredded lump of flesh and armor, smoldering and scorched. The Bespian then took up position at the doorway, watching Crest snipe another two Commandos out.

“Nice hit.”

“Nice charge.”

Then, to Psycho’s surprise, he heard a metallic “clinking” noise. His gaze dropped to the floor, a live thermal detonator catching his attention. He was now faced with two options: stay there and die, or charge towards the commandos and avoid the explosion. He chose the latter.

In a fluid motion, he jumped into the hallway, sprinting towards the last two commandos. He heard the grenade go off behind him, but the action of the moment kept him from feeling it. Suddenly, one of the commandos stepped out from behind cover, his blaster aimed straight at Psycho, ready to fire. But before he could click the trigger, a sniper rifle bolt bashed into his helmet, frying his skull and dropping him to the floor.

One to go.

Psycho urged on his leg muscles, travelling faster and faster down the hall, gaining momentum. The last New Republic soldier stepped into the hallway, intent on killing Psycho, but he was closer than he expected. Psycho pushed straight into the soldier, sending him flying backwards. His gun tumbled to the floor, leaving him defenseless to the charging berserker, but it didn’t matter; Psycho’s boot was already on the man’s neck, snapping it with a skillful jerk. Panting and finished, Psycho sat down on the floor, relief filling his emotions.

“Nice finish,” Crest said, meeting up with the trooper.

“Nice shooting.”

“Eh. It’s what I’m good at.”

“You know, Crest. I’m liking you a lot as my superior. We work well together.”

“I can say the same, but let’s get going to the rooftop. We don’t want to miss any action.”

Panting, Psycho replied, “I’m done with action for today.”

=====

Exactly two minutes and twenty five seconds later, the two stormtroopers had made their way to the rooftop, quickly finding their squad members under attack. Several Commandos were positioned at the other side of the roof, exchanging fire as Kilroy worked on the orbital beacon.

Psycho looked over at Crest. “You ready?”

“You bet I am.”

“Let’s do this.”

OOC:
Crappy post, but it moves the story along. Sorry for the lack of quality.

ETRP/PFC Dev "Psycho" Bandoran/3SQD: "Blackjack"/1PLT: "Wildcard"/1COM: "Phoenix"/1BAT: "Dragon"/1RGT: "Osiris"/VEA/VE/Tadath

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