Gráinne Mhaol & Fiach Dubh
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Is mimic a bhris beal duine a shron - often a person's mouth gets their nose broke
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Affiliation: Oglaigh na Irandoideanne - Warriors of the Iron Fists
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Post by Gráinne Mhaol & Fiach Dubh on Apr 5, 2021 12:40:38 GMT -8
*Grace watched silently but could not help but consider her career choices. *Maureen watched with mouth ajar and wide eyes. As the bottle shattered shards of glass and drops of blood fell on her legs. Brushing them aside she asked* -Maureen- "Why did she just hit that man?" *Boland responded* "No wories.... Family thing." *The child nodded* "Oh. Hope she doesn't hit me." * Boland quickly reassured her* -Boland- "Not happening." *Maureen comforted by the man smiled*
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Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna
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Affiliation: Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna ~ Warriors of the Iron Fists
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Post by Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna on Apr 5, 2021 12:58:41 GMT -8
*O'Dubhui turning head to the right whispered orders in the ear of Sgt. Slaughter, who in turn spoke to a Tog. Without delay several men began work on the vessel. A versatile bunch, the Togorians were competent, experienced navel officers, this guiding there movement. The ship, and complimentary vessels were inspected, any repairs mmade, munitions, fuel, etc replenished and other standard maintenance completed. Meanwhile began the task of contacting the legion of trusted confederates whom had been accumulated over years of experience*
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Mórrígan Dubh
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Post by Mórrígan Dubh on Apr 5, 2021 13:54:36 GMT -8
*Morrigan observed closely, yet did not interfere. This An Tiarna had taught her well; farm responsibility out and stand back watching the bigger picture. Then fuss over the small details. But another point to leadership that she had learned well was keeping certain business to yourself. To this end she began her own private regiment of reaching out to the most distinguished partners and associates. When she opened up the Universe would hold it's collective breath*
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Post by Ciarán Dubh & Laoch Bán Dubh on Apr 5, 2021 16:10:43 GMT -8
*The brothers approached Morrigan. Kieran and Laoch bowed politely and one latter spoke* -Kieran- "Now we get along quite just fine with the Adams family there, but off balance but nice enough. But way we see it the Korean and ugly dude can more than handle themselves and frankly that kid and the crow are nuclear." *Head cocking to the right* -Kieran- "You dig what I mean?" *Hands moving with each word* "Now the way I see it Captain Brunch there and that crew of his could use some company...." *He stood waiting*
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Mórrígan Dubh
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Post by Mórrígan Dubh on Apr 5, 2021 16:30:51 GMT -8
*Morrigan held Kierans eyes the entire time he spoke and kept this contact as she replied* -Morrigan- "I respect your opinion. And I certain it reflects that held by Laoch too." * She weighed the situation as she spoke* "You must realise just how important you are to Grace and her family." *Decision seemingly made as she finished, speaking loud enough for others to hear* "I truly believe that they are competent.... and they are loyal" *Flinging hair back with a left* "We'll work well togeather. Just don't forget who ultimately falls the shots"
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Gráinne Mhaol & Fiach Dubh
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Is mimic a bhris beal duine a shron - often a person's mouth gets their nose broke
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Affiliation: Oglaigh na Irandoideanne - Warriors of the Iron Fists
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Post by Gráinne Mhaol & Fiach Dubh on Apr 5, 2021 17:16:50 GMT -8
*Boland toyed with the Utopic Vulture as Grace sat with The Raven on her shoulder and Maureen at her left. They watched everything around them, including Boland at their ship, the crew working on the Wayfarer and Morrigan talking with the boys. Maureen commented* -Maureen- "Carrot and Leech are going with their cousin. Grace asked nothing. She was comfortable with her family, lacking a better word. And she had placed her loyalty with Morrigan. Simple. Was she a bought woman? Shaking off the silly momentary feeling she laughed. She wanted to work. The adventure had begun*
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Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna
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Affiliation: Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna ~ Warriors of the Iron Fists
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Post by Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna on Apr 5, 2021 18:30:41 GMT -8
*Work o the ship was coming down to the very precise details. From the finest wife in the dashboards to the type of toilet paper offered (went with a two ply form intended for sensitive skin). 6 standard two man escape pods were added. This manner of mundane worldly needs became a necessary preocupation. Any essential maintenance was completed. Sgt. Slaughter stood back, grease on left cheek and wrench in right hand*
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Gráinne Mhaol & Fiach Dubh
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Is mimic a bhris beal duine a shron - often a person's mouth gets their nose broke
Posts: 714
Affiliation: Oglaigh na Irandoideanne - Warriors of the Iron Fists
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Post by Gráinne Mhaol & Fiach Dubh on Apr 5, 2021 19:24:08 GMT -8
*What now? Something was moving, Grace was sure of that and it wasn't her bowels. She stood and walked towards their parked ship. The Raven sat on her shoulder wordlessly. The woman was followed by Maureen, who in turn was followed by a massive wolfhound. Unconsciously the girl did what Grace did. Grace yawned, Maureen yawned. Grace put her arms behind back, clasping hands, so did Maureen. They came to a halt before the Utopic Vulture. Grace sighed, Maureen followed suit. Turning towards the child brushed right hand through hair then turned her attention back too the wreck. The Hound earned a long caress of the head, as part of Maureen's mimicking kick. Grace thought of this being her home but the idea wasn't where she wanted to be. Yet. Where then? Brows creasing she wondered* -Maureen-Javexx!!" ?*Grace turned to the child puzled* -Grace- "You want to wash clothes?"
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Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna
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Affiliation: Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna ~ Warriors of the Iron Fists
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Post by Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna on Apr 5, 2021 20:46:04 GMT -8
*Nothing quite like organised anarchy. And that just about summer up what O'Dubhui was watching. Bodies here, others there. Constant movement. But all towards a central goal. Every move had meaning. Gutting. Refinishing. Adding. Removing. The vessel looked less and less as Sgt. Slaughter had first seen and more and more what he wanted it to look like with each move. The man smiled. Togorians made for brutal warriors. And they made for equally brutal laborers. Ten men Slaughter thought and imagined what he could do with a hundred. O'Dubhui wandered over to the ship. He stood back watching. Suddenly he turned head to the left. The little girl said a name. The place that he called home once before. He muttered aloud* -O'Dubhui- "Juvex...." *And he looked again at the ship*
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Mórrígan Dubh
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Post by Mórrígan Dubh on Apr 5, 2021 21:30:43 GMT -8
*Reaching out, even when from a position of power held a certain humiliating element to it. An Tiarna had told her "your vanity is barking dog - silence it!" Some things needed doing and if everyone else cowered at the idea of getting there hands dirty, you better have lots of soap. A dog howled, if only in her head. Now the move.... Was more a return to something old rather than leaping blind into a new scene. But all felt new. You could literally hear Joe Cocker wailing out Up where we belong. Ancient eyes on a young face spoke volumes*
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Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna
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Affiliation: Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna ~ Warriors of the Iron Fists
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Post by Óglaigh na Iarndóideanna on Apr 6, 2021 4:42:11 GMT -8
*Sgt. Slaughter smiled. With the painting of the vilified IF symbol on the sides the Wayfarer stood set to move. Loading of human cargo began. Sgt. Slaughter stood screaming orders in the cockpit. Laoch was the first into the ship followed by Kieran. O'Dubhui followed. At last Morrigan herself was escorted onboard. The ship lifted up, climbing into the sky and at last entering orbit*
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Gráinne Mhaol & Fiach Dubh
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Is mimic a bhris beal duine a shron - often a person's mouth gets their nose broke
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Affiliation: Oglaigh na Irandoideanne - Warriors of the Iron Fists
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Post by Gráinne Mhaol & Fiach Dubh on Apr 6, 2021 5:07:41 GMT -8
Go*Grace glanced at O'Dubhui et al exit the planet. She then saw Boland gesture with two fingers. Time to go. Briskly sweeping the little girl in her arms, Grace hurriedly boarded the vessel. The Raven on her shoulder dug in for the ride and The Hound followed. With all safely aboard Boland fired the beast. The Utopic Vulture rose up, up and at last was but a memory*
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Lámh Dhearg Manaan
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Post by Lámh Dhearg Manaan on Apr 10, 2021 1:43:57 GMT -8
*Plunkett could feel the pulse of the Comm. before he could hear it ring. Flipping it from pocket and flipping it open he listened with a growing smile. The situation was becoming a bit uncomfortable. A man stood hands moving frantically from pocket to pocket.Apparently looking for something. And Plunkett was looking at the size of this he vessel just behind where the man stood. Nodding smoothly, Plunkett walked straight towards his mark. At his nod an already fully dressed squad had taken loose formation. Many ways to skin a cat, so the sadistic saying says. In the same vein, Plunkett's Right hand was on the man's neck. Thumb catching treachea as long fingers wrapped around the left side of back of neck. Right knee shot up simultaneously, taking the victim in the groin. Left slapping float over ear,and Plunkett went right with his left and left with his right, this snapping a neck like a twig. Swinging the body around fast,Plunkett charged in the door of the ship using the victim as a shield. Tossing the corpse down it hit the ground with a sickening thud, Plunkett pulled revolver, wildly looking around himself. The man struggled to move. Plummet stepped forward with left, shooting the man in the back of the head, point blank. What a mess. With a gesture of the left his men stormed in. There were three other men onboard. Ensign Dweb rushed forward with a ball peen hammer howling like madman. And he was snatched up by a giant Togorian,who commenced to literally shake the shit out of the man. The soldier then tossed the soiled sack of skin to the floor, atop Victim # 1. Guy left still two ungreased people wandering in that ship.... A Tog snatched up the ball peen once held lovingly by Victim # 2 and proceeded to have in the head o t Victim # 3. The last man standing, Victim # 3 key a horrific demise. Standing bravely from his seat in the cockpit, he was immediately rushed by three Togorian members of Lamb Dherg Manaa n armed with 18' s'crath. The attack was anything but subtle, as they shanked him repeatedly, leaving a heap of flesh on the floor. Quickly commendering control of the bezel they took off*
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Epona Dubh
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Post by Epona Dubh on Jul 31, 2021 16:47:07 GMT -8
Exiting the hideaway the centaur moved a a slow trott, accessing the scene around her. What she packed in intelligence she more than made up for in wisdom. She was not pushy, far from it Epona was quiet polite but her appearance could be intimidating to some. She wandered yet her movement was not aimless. Eventually she found herself at the spaceport. Busy place this was, so she thought, what with so many jockeying for space, many of whom wished to unload and split as fast as they could. But there was a unique aspect among those using the hanger space here that was absent among many others universe wide. Civility. And there it was. A compact transport ship. Her wide analysis gave way to an exacting evaluation of the ship and the activity closely around the vessel. Two men in particular quietly standing and overseeing those unloading the vessel. She approached the pair. There was no startled stare, if anything they seemed indifferent to her appearance. Two men, one blond haired appeared to be around 40 she waged. The other looked far older. Sixty perhaps more. And the latter carried the converse, so she spoke to him directly. Mouth opening to speak he beat her to the punch -Older Smuggler - "Word out is that The Old man is dead." Stating that truth so openly hit her hard. The man continued - Older Smuggler- "Shame that; did a lot of business with him." Looking her direct in the eye - Older Smuggler- "Need a ride?" Her look seemed to compel him to add - Older Smuggler- "We'll get you when you're flush but we're in a bit of a hurry." And that was that, the vessel was unloaded fast, currency exchange with another tough looking man with three big dudes with him, they boarded, with her in the transport chamber and they lifted off and were gone. Family connections. They could get you in a fight - fast. And off they made you a fast friend
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Post by Briget Nommad on Aug 11, 2021 9:35:18 GMT -8
Walking as she waited and thinking as she walked, Briget mused over just what it was that she wanted, indeed, what she intended to do. Sciences she found not dull and boring, as do many view the discipline but bright and lively. To be certain their were rules set by nature. Yet how one could work within the perimeters designed and governed by evolution was almost boundless. So She was convinced . She smiled at her own unintended pun. She snickered. Lively. Yes. Life. Creating life. How? People always tended to complicate simple equations. You take a specific sample, subtract the unwanted from said sample and add desired attributes. Then multiply. Perfect. Brriget's mother was right; this girl was one pompous windbag. Correction: one smart pompous windbag. Intelligence and arrogance. A most volatile combination indeed. There she paved for sometime before five men appeared. She simply nodded and the six left. Stepping into a Sentinel class shuttle the woman turned saying -Briget- "Bye...." The vessel with no fan fare slipped away
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Twi'leck Triplet Dubh
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Post by Twi'leck Triplet Dubh on Aug 17, 2021 18:05:41 GMT -8
The Hand Maid Tail quietly set down in the Skip one spaceport. Now fully clothed and armed, Alem exited the ship. A limping Shakk followed close behind. Both girls turned, waiting for Gid. After the woman had exited she spoke to a man working at the spaceport. The conversation was quite animated but friendly. Smiling the pair exchanged a strange multi-movement handshake that ended with them rapping closed fists togeather. Gid carried a pattern of speech and mannerisms that a man once long ago commented "carried the stink of the street. Shakk did not understand but Alem had taken great offense with the statement. Enough so that he would be added to the ever growing list of those who didn't walk away. Back in the here and now and with all unfortunate flashbacks tucked away for the moment, they did walk away from the spacrport. The worker waved farewell with a smile and all three Twi'leck waved back. Gid spoke whimsically -Gid- "Flyboy there is gonna hang onto my keys." This elicited an immediate response -Alem- "Dare I ask how?" And that envoked laughter -Gid- "Flirted a touch initially but talked intelligently from then in. -Alem- "So you schmooze the poor guy." Eyes rolling - Gid- "You make it sound so criminal." Head shaking -Alem- "But we are criminals and this ain't exactly the Imperial Senate." And skid skipiedy skip they skipped away on Skip 1 in search of adventure went with Shakk trailing behind them. Gid had left a little token behind her at the spaceport. There, beside their Firespray-31-class patrol and attack craft a black banner with eloquent white letters stood on a five foot pole, which read: Tale of The Twi'leck Three AN LUCHT SIUIL DHIUBH
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Twi'leck Triplet Dubh
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Post by Twi'leck Triplet Dubh on Aug 17, 2021 22:56:46 GMT -8
Back at the spaceport Mr Paul Dowling was taking the Hand Maid Tail apart. The engine specifically was in mint condition. It was a pleasure to work on. He went at that for near an hour. With a data pad in hand he made checklist. Finally leaving that preoccupation he murmured to himself-Paul- "I be back...." Once he stepped into the ship and got a look a the small unique adjustments he was impressed. And he concluded decidedly that there was no way those that three girls got any of this done. No way he thought. Eyes widening he picked up a gun. The pieces that these girls were packing was insane. Shrugging he organized the ship as best as he could, attempting desperately to steer away from anything too personal. He then looked a The body of the ship. After several hours he looked at the time on his datapad -Paul-"I got work to do...." Dowling was honest to a fault. Shame that didn't make his life any different. And back to managing the spaceport he went. That's where he found the flag. He look the banner over carefully. Then he hung it on a high ledge. With a shrugg Paul went back to his work Tale of Three Twi'leck AN LUCHT SIUIL DHIUBH
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Twi'leck Triplet Dubh
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Post by Twi'leck Triplet Dubh on Aug 18, 2021 11:01:25 GMT -8
Dowling sat with his feet kicked up on his desk. He got a kick outta how people thought that this was what he did all da.... The sight of that red Twi'leck with all the inkwork threw the man's train of thought straight out the window. His concentration on the other two was lost as he watched the red woman approach. Let's be serious here; Dowling was a decent man but he was not made of stone. Leaning over the counter of the booth in front of the spaceport Gid whistled. Dowling near fell over jumping up to his feet. Snatching up paperwork he then hurriedly collected all personal effects the woman had in storage and walked over to the admission desk -Dowling- "Hey. Here's your personals, We got you down for the parking, maintenance and cleaning....." Handing the woman the bill they exchanged credits -See you again soon?" She smiled, winked and took her things. And Fleming's head moved slight side to side as she walked away. Stopping in front of the ship the girls stopped -Shakk- "We should get out money back! That looks like shit!" Shaking head Alem chastised her - Alem- "He did that on purpose." The response was immediate - Shakk- "So you want to pay him for throwing dirt all over the thing?" The hatch dropped and the Twi'lecks entered. Again they froze. The interior of the vessel was pristine. And the man had managed to achieve this test without disturbing anything. After taking her seat Gid flipped a few switches then hit the ignition. The ship purred like a kitten. Lifting up nice and easy Gid spoke -Gid- "Brace yourselves." Then she punched the ignition
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Post by Twin Togruta Dubh on Sept 19, 2021 7:16:11 GMT -8
The girls talked - mainly betwixt themselves but they mingled with some of the other outlaws whom frequented the notorious hideout. Hitching a ride with a smuggler, a freighter pilot who enjoyed steady legal work and profited enormously from marketing illicit merchandise on the side. A shady arrangement was negotiated and all three key at the facility spaceport. A Wayfarer transport sat waiting. The pilot seeing the pair nodding and spoke -Smuggled- "We're on then. Wasn't sure if you'd show. The three boarded the ship and... The split Split 1
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Post by Nebula "Nibs" Enibry on Dec 8, 2021 18:22:32 GMT -8
[ Nebula “Nibs” Enibry | Bridge | Skip One | The Datasphere ] Blasting away smaller asteroids and trying to carefully navigate about the larger asteroids, Nibs was actually growing more nervous now. She could see the planetoid that showed clear signs of modifications to the interior structure. A ship of hers, at a hundred meters in diameter, was not being subtle about her approach, should have been challenged already. Or at least contacted to demand explanation of her purpose.
She took stock of the fact that she'd been using her sensor pings to take note and isolate superstructures and large concentrations of metal and foreign substances that didn't occur naturally. Factoring that space junk was also a probability, she adjusted her sensors to pick up high volumes, which would suggest the presence of something usual to a place with sentient traffic.
But even with that, she felt like an unknown source had opened her eyes to the exact location far more quickly than her technology would have afforded her.
Using her ship's weaponry to blow away another asteroid, she gasped and quickly ducked under a derelict CR90 Corellian Corvette that was battered and damaged from bouncing around in an asteroid field.
“What is...did someone find the place and destroy it???” Nibs wondered aloud as she finally reached what appeared to be the entrance to the Smuggler's Run. Activating her external cameras and comms, she started cycling through various frequencies, including the criminal channels she learnt about from slicing data across various worlds.
“This is Nebula "Nibs" Enibry of the Datasphere, requesting permission to dock at the...”
A low-level slice of data packets of the slightest active computers allowed her to obtain the name of the locale as Skip One, “...Skip One. Please respond.”
After a full minute of silence, Nibs repeated her message. When she got no response, she moved her ship closer to the hangar bay, and turned on the ship's floodlamps. The Run looked uninhabited, and on very low power.
“This is Nebula "Nibs" Enibry, I'm docking,” she announced on the com channels, and made the landing procedures.
She didn't need a sensor sweep to tell her that there was no life support or atmosphere even, so once she docked, she turned on the ship's magnetic clamps to keep it anchored to the ground, and went to her mission room to get herself a pressure suit. She also took a trusty datapad and a toolkit that she attached to her suit's backpack and lastly, a blaster pistol. She was next to hopeless at shooting, but having one was better than going unarmed.
Suitably dressed and armed, she headed to the boarding ramp, sealed the door behind her, and then lowered the ramp, and she used her suit's scanners to pick up the conditions outside.
It was as she feared. The hangar shields were down, and power was minimal. She could see dim lights in the corners. Turning on her suit's lights, she remotely triggered the Datasphere's floodlamps to provide more illumination. She began a cautious circuit, going in wider and wider circles away from her ship, as she mapped out the entire Hangar bay, which was considerable. There were a few abandoned but surprisingly functional ships, including a venerable YT-1300 freighter, which she learnt was called the Millennium Eagle, prompting Nibs to snort at the cheap humour behind it's name, recognizing another historical vessel, also a YT-1300 that was certainly more prolific than this one.
She eventually found the control room, and an interconnected corridor that led to a power control room. Someone had removed the main power supply, but she found a few spares. It took some doing all alone, but Nibs eventually managed to restore power and smiled as power and lights turned back on. She raced back to the Control Room and began running scans and communications frequencies, as well as datalogs.
She had to hand it to the Smugglers. They were quite thorough, and most of the computers and logs were scrubbed clean or just shot to bits. They didn't want people finding out what happened that led to the whole place being abandoned and left unoccupied or defended. But it did have defenses and concealments, which made Nibs' discovery of the place with such ease all the more confusing.
Even with her ship's advanced sensory equipment, she should have spent days to months searching for it.
Well, best not look a gift mount in the mouth, so Nibs got to work restoring systems and functions. She first reactivated the Hangar Bay shields and restored air and atmosphere. When her suit's scanners confirmed that the environment was now suitable for habitation, she removed the helmet and took a breath of fresh air. Well...as fresh as it could get anyway. She couldn't pick up any microbes that were in the air, but she decided to put the helmet back on when she moved on from here.
For now, the spaceport of Skip One was back in business, as best as could be managed by a lone occupant.
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