Xeonon Solomon
The First Order
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Affiliation: First Order
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Post by Xeonon Solomon on Aug 29, 2013 17:14:15 GMT -8
Right to the root of the problem, nice and quick. Still the man was kind. Reaching under the table into a drawer he produced an amber bottle. Inside is one of the most potent drinks made in the Deep Core, distilled here it was as strong as moonshine and as smooth as fireball. Going down a second time he brought up two glasses, one for himself and another for Erikson. Would you like a glass? After all you cant be rude on a first meeting like this. Pouring himself one, and putting the other glass half full he waited a second before proceeding. I am afraid there is a little problem with this plan. At the moment we are keeping to ourselves, the whole reason that your friends back home wont believe it is part of our design. As I am sure you know, most Empires of the past have a bad rap and as such any up and comers are instantly associated with those of the past. Which for the most part was true. 80% of the empires through time were all evil and tyrannical.
You can tour it sure, but you cant leave. We have enemies out there, powerful ones. Mandalorians, what is left of the Order of the Eye... What we did not destroy that is. A slight lie, but for all intensive purposes true. They had killed off most of the power house at the request of its leaders and in doing so it had left them weakened. Unable to go out to a galaxy that would normally kill them. I am afraid you and your crew have just become Imperial citizens. There was actual sadness in his voice. He did not want this man to be here, nor did he want to force him to become one of his "subjects" but it is what it is. He could not leave for fear of revealing them to the outer galaxy.
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Krzesimir Viggo
The First Order
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Post by Krzesimir Viggo on Aug 29, 2013 17:41:32 GMT -8
The Lt ignores the offered drink, his honor demanding he not take any pleasures for himself before his men were all safe and tended too. As the administrator spoke, Eriksen felt his blood begin to boil, the man hoped to hold his crew just so they could be certain that no one ever found them? what foolishness was this? he and his crew would be missed, and sought for. And his crew new how to be found if it needed too. Even if it meant leaving the Lt behind.
Dat ist nicht goot, though ve vould think yer kin vould velcome a new member, nicht hold its embassy hostage. But dat vas de risk of seeking new allies. Suit yer self, but yer nicht find oos to keen to do yer biding sir. it vas bad engouh dat you tempt vith drink vile my men still toil and labor fore der lifes, but dis ist an outrage! I knock the half full glass to the floor as I snatch at the bottle and try to throw it at the administrators head, with my right hand, while my left quickly taps a series of transmissions from my comlink to the ship. The short sequence, translates into three letters, "T," "R," and "R." which the comm officer would further translate to mean "Trouble, Return and Report."
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Xeonon Solomon
The First Order
Posts: 2,206
Affiliation: First Order
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Post by Xeonon Solomon on Aug 30, 2013 6:22:13 GMT -8
Finnick who had still been in the room facepalmed. Despite being trained for war and combat even this ginger knew about tact, and saying that a person could not go home like that well it just doesn't vibe. Reaching out in the force he caught the precious liquid and crystal glass before they hit the ground, no point in spilling this. He however would not speak but rather, just put a barrier between the two in case things got violent.
The administrator was less calm and collected than his warrior counterpart closed his eyes and went to cover his head. When nothing hit he looked up and saw the liquid floating in front of him. Watching it float back down to the table he regained his composure Relax for a moment would you, you are not a prisoner. I can assure you that some day in the future you will be able to return home, but for the time being you have stumbled into something dangerous. My men and women toil alongside yours so do not think yours are the only ones suffering but you dropped on our doorstep. Mandate would have us leave you there, to die! I am not like that though, innocents shall not die while I am around.
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Krzesimir Viggo
The First Order
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Affiliation: First Order
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Post by Krzesimir Viggo on Aug 31, 2013 13:14:27 GMT -8
Aboard the Talon, the comm officer, really the only officer still on the bridge, received the comm message and immediately paged the ship's XO, who was in the middle of a much delayed meal. The XO, SCPO Chiamaka, grumbled as she rose from her place and moved quickly towards the bridge, carrying her bowl of stew, and eating as she went...
The Lt, still in the adminstrators office, notices that his projectile never meets its intended target and shoots a glare at Finnick, before storming to the door and into the hall, unless the door is locked, in which case he turns once more and glares at Finnick again, now completely ignoring the administrator for his grievous insults. As he moves from his seat he interrupts the administrator with short spat of his own.
Bah! Yer canst order me!
I simmer and fume, visibly, and should I make it into the hall, I will wander the halls aimlessly, avoiding crowded and guarded passages as much as possible. Moving more to burn pent up energy than anything else. If I am stuck in the room, I'll stand stock still, directing my anger at the one who brought me here. The only attention I will spare the Administrator now is, if the chance arises, to beat him senseless. As for Finnick, whom I can only assume is an Imperial Knight, I know I cannot best him, so I will not try unless given no other option. As per SOPs I do not attempt any further communication with the Talon, as far as they are concerned I am already dead.
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Xeonon Solomon
The First Order
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Affiliation: First Order
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Post by Xeonon Solomon on Sept 1, 2013 7:25:02 GMT -8
Baring the doorway Finnick stood directly in front of Erikson shaking hsi head. He would not be allowed to leave this room and by the gods if he had to break a few bones to do so. The way he stood almost daring the man to try and get by he looked over at the man in charge as he stood.
The calm composer of the commander leaves the moment he stands up, his eyes darken, the creases in his face appear deeper. Almost in a villainous way he spoke with such intensity and poison in his voice it scared even Finnick. Sit down right this instance! Or so help me god I will break your god damn legs and make you sit. I have helped your crew, I have helped work on repairing your ship. I have shown you nothing but respect but you throw it back in my face. His face a snarl for a second it looked as if he would loose all control and attack the man before him. Before that happened he straightened his tie and sat back down. Now sit down, so that we may discuss this like men.
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Krzesimir Viggo
The First Order
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Post by Krzesimir Viggo on Sept 1, 2013 10:11:02 GMT -8
Aboard the Talon, SCPO Chiamaka arrives on the bridge, hastely finishing her bowl of stew, and and is acccosted by the blabbering comm officer. After she get's him to shut up and start again, this time reporting in proper fashion, she listens to the Lt.'s brief message, and curses vehemently in hutese, something she'd never done before. The comm officer, fresh out of the academy fainted on the spot. Sighing to herself SCPO Chiamaka takes the command chair and issues the ship a series of orders, sent straight to the ship's computer and then executed. The reactor breach alarm sounded throughout the ship, and it sealed all bulkheads and exterior hatches. Power levels fluctuated across the ship, in an apparently random series of outages, partial power, full power, and power spikes. These were however merely camouflage for the two turbo laser cannons warming upon the starboard side, which were preparing to blast away any physical restraints connecting the ship to the station.
Back in the office, Lt Eriksen refused to acknowledge the administrator, and paid no head to anything the man did or said, choosing in stead to stare daggers of growing hatred at Finnik for barring his way. He didn't bother responding to the knight's nod except to intensify his glare and hatred for the man. If he administrator thought he had been nothing but helpful, that was his problem, as it is now it seems likely that this meeting was going to produce nothing useful, Erikson had no further motive to be co-operative. His kin would have to find other allies.
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Xeonon Solomon
The First Order
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Affiliation: First Order
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Post by Xeonon Solomon on Sept 2, 2013 7:06:39 GMT -8
Of course there were still people from the Imperial regime were on the ship, they had not been warned by the crew. So when bulk heads started slamming shut most were trapped were they were stuck, some in non essential areas and a half dozen stuck in the engine room. After all the ship had received some pretty messed up damage to make them dead in space. Although they were on their way to being repaired if given the slightest hint they could be taken apart. One of them stood at the console monitoring power intake. Bridge this is engine room, things are going crazy whatever you are doing I suggest you power down lest you damage the ship further. Of course they had no way of knowing whats up.
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Back in the office when Erikson made no attempt to listen the commander sighed heavily and looked to the ginger. Finnick, would you do me a favour.
The Imperial Knight knew what he was being asked and simply nodded, reaching out with the force he attempted to float the man up in the air so that he would be facing the man in charge.
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Post by Inverter on Nov 12, 2013 19:26:02 GMT -8
It had taken a long time to get here. This was a hardened warrior's dream. Having reached the pinnacle of Ojom's warrior culture, Spiridon Moreno stood aboard what was now his flagship, the Amonajaku, beginning preparations for his own standards of fleet and crew readiness. An experienced fighting man himself, Spiri, as he was known, knew very much the potential fallout from an unprepared fleet. This fleet had more than readiness alone to contend with. In a brave new galaxy, this fleet had many missions to carry out.
This victory had not come as easily as Spiri had hoped, but it came without external support, and that was crucial in and of itself. On a planet as rough as Ojom, being able to operate alone was a necessity. It was a political reality Spiri had to face. But he was used to fighting alone. This was no new experience. It was something he had trained for, both as a soldier and as a man.
Now, he was patrolling the bridge of the Amonajaku, rallying what were now his men. It was a strange feeling to be in command again, after spending so much time as an underling. But he now understood the attitudes of the Moffs he had dealt with in the past. Their high and mighty opinions of themselves and their abilities made more sense.
If only they had seen the power struggle he had undertaken. The former administration's lack of intelligence agency probably played a role. It's easier, after all, to defeat a blind enemy than one who can see. The old administration most certainly was blind. Spiri understood that much. The former administration shouldn't have crossed his men the way they did.
The comms operator leaned into his words, hoping to make them clearer in the process.
“Unidentified vessel, this is the Ojom interdictor Kutabe. Change your course away from the planet or you will be immobilized. I repeat, change your course immediately or you will be immobilized and boarded.”
There remained no response from the vessel, and the crew could not see it as well as they would have liked. The comms operator threw up his hands in frustration.
“Commander Moreno, we can't make contact. The beam operators are awaiting your command.”
Spiridon didn't like the situation. It seemed wrong. This vessel had to have just come from a conflict zone—its course indicated it had just arrived from the vicinity of Prakith. That was not a promising sign. Spiridon had heard rumblings and rumors that freelancers could be involved, and from the very rudimentary visual contact made, it didn't appear to be a vessel used by any of the factions in that conflict.
However, at the same time, orders were orders. Moreno's orders were to pull in ships from hyperspace, and either board them after being immobilized, or dock them if they were smaller. This smaller ship couldn't be much bigger than an Imperial Sentinel-class. Moreno wanted to give himself one last out, nevertheless.
“Command, this is Commander Moreno, of the Kutabe. We have stopped a suspicious craft. It has been pulled out of a hyperspace lane by our gravity wells, but its affiliation and purpose are unknown. I have a bad feeling about this situation. Please advise us on our next tactical maneuver.”
The pause, which was certainly just seconds, felt like hours.
“Thank you for communicating, Commander. Please state the approximate size of the craft, so we can dictate a command directive.”
“The ship is not much different in size from an Imperial Sentinel-class. Exact size and type unknown, but that's what our sensors can make out. If I may, sir, I would recommend—”
“Bring the ship in with your tractor beam, Commander, and have those men subdued for daring to violate our space lanes. If they wanted to just barge through here like rancors, they should have had the decency to ask, don't you think?”
“Yes, sir. We'll dock them, sir.”
“AND subdue them?”
“And subdue them. Yes, sir.”
Moreno turned to his combat crews.
“We have no choice. Order the beam operators to pull the ship in. Prepare a welcoming party. I have no interest in being jumped by a group of soldiers drawing us into a ruse.”
The comms operator nodded. “Very well, sir.”
It didn't take long for the craft to be dragged into the bay of the Kutabe. One more bad omen. This situation was getting worse by the minute.
The craft was finally brought to rest. The seconds still plodded on. The cargo loading door on the aft segment of the craft slowly opened. As it reached for the floor of the bay, the cargo section exploded with red light, and the acrid scent of spent tibanna stung the nostrils of everyone lacking a helmet. The last thing Moreno could remember was a man in a grayish red combat fatigue, pointing a blaster pistol at his face.
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Krzesimir Viggo
The First Order
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Affiliation: First Order
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Post by Krzesimir Viggo on Nov 12, 2013 20:17:58 GMT -8
From the twisting chaos of hyperspace appears a Nebulon-B frigate, with it's shields fully charged. It exits at the usual point for ships arriving on official business with the planet Ojom. The comms officer hails the world, requesting permission to resupply and an appointment with current system administrator, at the soonest possible convenience. As the request is processed, it may be noticed that Sentinel-class landing craft is docked under the long boom of the Nebulon-B frigate. The frigate's weapons capacitor's are charged, but the weapons themselves are not charged. The sublight engines warm up, in anticipation of moving the ship closer to Ojom, should the requests be approved, or back into hyperspace, should it be denied. The ship's hangar bays are sealed, preventing most sensors from seeing whether or not the ship is carrying it's full complement or not.
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Post by Inverter on Nov 22, 2013 20:49:31 GMT -8
As Moreno walked through the events of that day in his mind, he was snapped out of it by a voice calling out to the commander of the Immobilizer-418-class Amonajaku.
“Sir, we're getting reports of a Nebulon-B frigate in this sector, but we don't have any…much less one assigned here!”
Moreno reacted quickly, returning to his commander mode, even though he was no longer in command of any one vessel in what was now his fleet.
“Where are the reports coming from? Are we picking up communications from another vessel?”
Everyone's thoughts were stopped still by the well projector operators below decks. Moreno glanced over at the Amonajaku's commander, Kela Sapan, as if to say “now, it is your turn.”
“Commander Sapan, we have intercepted a vessel entering Ojom's orbit from hyperspace. It appears to be a Nebulon-B class frigate. Vector indicates that they are here for legitimate purposes. Shall we hold them from hyperspace?”
Sapan smiled.
“Yes,” she replied, “hold them back so we can show them a proper Ojom welcome.”
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Krzesimir Viggo
The First Order
Posts: 360
Affiliation: First Order
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Post by Krzesimir Viggo on Nov 23, 2013 12:18:02 GMT -8
The shock of being pulled out of hyperspace three seconds before the hyperdrives should have disengaged, threw the bridge of the vessel into mild chaos, the requests sent out had been automated and cued to the ship's re-entree, so as out of place and confusing as they were, they still were sent out. Meanwhile the sensor panels lit up, two capital ships lay 40 km dead ahead of the Nebulon-B frigate, they were tentatively identified as an Immobilizer-418 and a Munifex. The commander immediately ordered all pilots to scramble to their craft, and for weapons to be charged, though he withheld the order to engage either of the ships before them. He sent the ambassador's delegation to take their places in the sentinel-class landing craft. Next he asked if any communications had been initiated by either of the vessels before him, as that is something generally done by ships interdicting space, whether it’s just checking credentials or making ludicrous demands because they think they can. When the answer came back negative, he ordered a tactical up date be sent to back to Foerost, and that the gunners should focus on knocking out the Munifex first, if things came to a head. Like most imperial commanders, retreat was not an option, unlike most imperial commanders, this one had extensively studied fleet tactics during his academy days, as well as finishing in the top 5% of his class.
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