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Post by Whill Shaman Erevis on Apr 9, 2013 10:59:06 GMT -8
The history is currently unknown.
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Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
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Post by Deleted on May 19, 2013 10:00:23 GMT -8
==Thirty-two years before the "present" time. 3,961 BBY: The Second Battle of Taris; Mandalorian Wars.==
The Mandalorian Wars had been going on for more than a decade at this point; fifteen years to be precise. They started when Mike was only a boy of three standard years of age. I suppose it should be noted that the official start to these wars were contentious in the discipline of history. Noted historians differed greatly, it seemed, on when the official start date of the Mandalorian Wars actually commenced. To move past these long, tedious conversations better reserved for the scholarly elite in the universe and, for story's sake, the start date of this war was approximately 3,976 BBY.
Mike was 18 years old at the time. A fresh-faced cadet from Coruscant, flown more than half-way across the galaxy to fight in a war between the Republic and the Mandalorians. Madaris was a handsome, athletic young recruit with a reputation for quick hands and even a faster mouth. His face cleanly shaven and his hair rich and full, the humanoid sat on the transport ship that was coming up closely to Taris with his long-range rifle in hand clad in the standard Republic Army uniform.
The transport was abuzz with the sounds of young, innocent, boys who conversed as if they had no true idea of the carnage of war that lay ahead of them - for indeed they hadn't. They couldn't. Even the mournful words, cautionary tales and forlorn descriptions of their senior officers seemed to not deter these boys' spirits. Untrammeled by what they heard, they sat in the transport itching for their chance at glory.
It was then that Madaris spied another soldier, same age as he, who sat in what seemed to be quiet reflection. Mike moved himself gingerly about the gear that lay about on the ground of the transport. Mike was about to speak when he noticed that this soldier's hands trembled noticeably on the long-range rifle that was held in his left hand. Mike noted this and the name above the soldier's breast pocket and then spoke up, somewhat quietly as he intended for the conversation to be between the two of them exclusively.
"Phi" said Mike "Are you okay?"
Madaris inquired. The trembling soldier he was talking to was Pvt. Vladimir Phi of Corellia. His father was some big shot in the Republic Navy and, initially he desired to blaze his own trail in the military, Vladimir enlisted with the Army. A boy of no more than 18 standard years of age as well, Madaris and Phi got on very well in training camp and though Phi was far more introverted than Madaris at this point, the two were rarely seen a part from each other. When they were given orders, from their superiors, that they would be headed into the same conflict, it brought the two of them great joy to think that they would be able to slaughter the Neo-Crusaders together. It was also somewhat manufactured joy given all of the propaganda that is flung about, on both sides, during any armed conflict.
Regardless, genuine or not, the pride and ease they felt quickly was replaced for Phi. After barely listening to Mike's superficial question about if he was okay, Phi turned to Mike and with a noticeable panic splattered across his face ignored the question and became speaking to Mike in a series of rhetorical ones himself.
"You know they call him Mandalore the Ultimate, right? That just cannot be for no reason." Phi said. After which, he moved his gaze from Madaris toward the floor in front of him as he absentmindedly began flicking his rifle. "Mandalore the Ultimate. That's who we're up against here. Did you hear what he did to Serrocco? Cathar? He nearly wiped those planets off the map and their species as well. The man knows no mercy."
"He's no man. He's an animal that needs to be put down." Madaris interrupted. He paid little notice to Phi's continual flicking of his rifle.
"And we are, Mike? We're men? We're engaged in this conflict with him too. His damned Neo-Crusaders." Phi snapped back with clear anger laced with his words.
"Vlad, I..." Mike started before he was interrupted by Phi's sudden jerk as he turned his gaze back to Madaris with his right hand holding tightly to Mike's wrist. With great intensity, Vlad stated "...look around you, Mike. Even if this war is the right thing to do. Don't you think we should have a bit more of a solemn outlook to this. War is a rich man's conflict in which they send poor boys to fight and die in. We're those boys, Mike! That's us!"
Madaris removed his wrist from the grasp of Phi and patted his friend on the back before he got up and moved elsewhere on the transport. He knew not what to say. At this point in his life, Madaris was not a philosophical man. He had no worldly experiences that taught him anything for certain. He was just a young recruit from Coruscant who desperately wanted to join in the, seemingly, glorious battle to safeguard the Republic and beat back the Mando scum. Everyone else was doing it so, to a young kid from the slums of the city-planet, it seemed like a way out.
And given that Madaris could not be counted on to say much and having to rely exclusively on his charm and handsome looks, Mike simply said to his friend "It'll be above before you know it, Vlad." And got up to leave.
"That's exactly what I'm afraid of" Phi said, somewhat under his breath.
Over the loud speaker in the transport, the soldiers were informed that the Republic Navy had been able to secure passage for the Republic Army and it appeared as though the Mandalorians were retreating.
The descent into Taris commenced.
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Krystal "Meony" Tancredi
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Figuring things out...
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Post by Krystal "Meony" Tancredi on Jul 20, 2013 5:10:17 GMT -8
Nightmares.
Stupid, annoying, frightening nightmares. I have them almost every night, and more often than not, I will wake up wondering why I’m shivering, crying and just feeling downright miserable, because as soon as I wake up, I forget what I dreamt about. Just like everything past the day I woke up on the floor of this ship, with a skull cracked wide open. My skull, cracked open like an egg, don’t ask me how my brains weren’t all over the floor, even I don’t know. I can’t remember a thing, who I was….what I was…or am. Do I have parents? Siblings? Or am I the product of a lab experiment? Everyday, when I jump awake, crying and feeling like a wreck, I think and wonder the same thing, because I really wish I knew, or remembered, and then if I do have parents, a family, I really wish they are with me, because I hate the loneliness, and the sheer terror of having no one to comfort me, reassure me that everything is going to be all right, that it’s just nameless, unidentifiable nightmares.
Usually takes me about half an hour to get rid of the shakes, and by then, Limey rolls in, scolding me in Binary about how I sleep too much and waste precious hours in a day…well, whatever passes for a day in a ship in space anyway. It will follow me wherever I go, fussing and scolding incessantly while I go about my morning routine. I occasionally take my time about getting ready, just to annoy it some more, yeah, I’m “mature” that way. But today, I kind of just wanted the day to be over with already. I hate these kind of days. Why? Because sometimes I get these “feelings”, call them premonitions or forebodings or whatever, and things usually happen. Bad things. And I usually end up on the worse end of the deal, because that’s just how I seem to be built, to be the galaxy’s punching bag. So when Limey whistles and squeals at me to get moving, I surprise it by complying. It is rare for Krystal “Meony” Tancredi to so responsively act according to R2-G1’s (Limey) orders.
Hnh, that name, it is so foreign to me. I feel no attachment or emotion towards the name, because someone (I don’t even remember who) told me that that is my name, when I woke up with the migraine of the century. But I kind of have a so-called steel trap memory, because I remember the name until now. And until I remember something else, I guess that is my name. I don’t get the nickname, though. I think I asked, but never got an answer, and I tried rationalizing it myself, but got no answer. Maybe it’s a cute nickname? Or a name in a different language? Well, whatever, it’s just a name. I’m not a firrerro or anything like that, so no matter.
Then again, I don’t even know what species I am.
I mean, I know I have some measure of Human blood in me, but I’m also something else. I know Humans can’t flip a two ton vehicle over on its side without aid, nor can they run fast enough to break the sound barrier three times, and I know Humans can’t take a blaster bolt to an unprotected chest without dying……
So, in addition to the whole mystery of who I am, I’m some sort of freak of nature.
I get dressed and follow Limey out of my bedroom, heading for the pantry. Limey had taken upon itself to prepare breakfast for me. I sit down, still kind of gloomy and frowny. Then Limey “brightens” my day with a highly nutritional meal of…green slop. Green is my favorite color, but when I’m expected to eat something that is unidentifiable in nature and is colored like vomit? Yeah, I’m gonna say ‘Yay, nutrition……pass.’ I’d almost rather starve, but you know what they say, beggars can’t be choosers, and considering my current financial state with having to refuel this ship and run maintenance, I’m pretty close to beggar. So I reluctantly lift the spoon to my mouth, full of that….stuff.
Swallow. Ick!
I really wish it didn’t taste as bad as it looks. Yow, it’s like...prison food or something. I need to check with Limey how in the worlds it prepares whatever I buy as provisions for the ship to taste and look so horrid. I manage to force down about ten more mouthfuls on account I’m a glutton for punishment, and I manage to make the bowl look arguably empty. Now if only Limey is a pessimist like me, so that it’ll think the bowl is half empty or something like that. But I clear out of there before it even begins warbling its disapproval of how poorly I eat. I’m a one meal a day kind of person. What? You think with culinary delights like that, I would want to eat more? Heck no. I’m so over my meals.
Besides, I feel sick anyway, and that foul tasting, foul looking substance didn’t actually help make my stomach feel any better. I don’t know why, but when I stay in the ship too long, I actually get sick, like I start getting weak, fatigued, grumpy, and just plain unhappy. Despite the fact I’m really awkward around people and conversations, I’m actually happier amongst them. Which is kind of what brings me all the way out here, to Taris. I reach the bridge and take a look through the viewport. The autopilot had brought us into orbit around the planet. We must have reached here somewhere around last night. Go figure, I slept through the jump out of hyperspace. Limey believes I can sleep through anything, and it’s right.
Well, no need to procrastinate around here. I want to get down there. Going over the communications console, I open up a comm channel to the port authorities. “Landing control, this is Krystal Tancredi, of the Corona-class…uhm…unarmed frigate, Sunflower. I’m looking to refuel and resupply my ship. Requesting permission to land, please.”
Please. The universal key to almost anything. Well, at least I think it’s helpful to be polite. A very bored official responds and grants me permission, and I begin the descent into the atmosphere. Limey rolls in and plugs in to the bridge controls to lend a hand. It’s unnecessary though, because this ship, normally requiring a minimum crew of sixty-four, had been extensively modified so that little ol’ me can control and run the whole ship on my lonesome.
Oh well, at least I have Limey.
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Abaddon
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My Mind is the Weapon. Everything else is just an Accessory.
Posts: 24 
Affiliation: None
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Post by Abaddon on Mar 30, 2014 19:39:47 GMT -8
So far away, far away from anything else the enormous ship dropped out of hyperspace. The streaking stars dropped back in to mere pricks of light about the world ship, becoming space around the vessel once again. However nobody would see the ship so far away from the planet and everything else it appeared, and nobody would watch the stars dropping back to proper positions as nobody was watching any screens nor was anybody upon the planetoid's surface. Deep in the belly of the vessel, in a darkened chamber the single occupant was knelt with in his meditation chamber, deep in his thoughts and musings.
Several minutes after the vessel had appear from hyperspace, the male slowly stood up from his kneeling position and opened his eyes, the luminous red orbs revealing as he slowly strode from the meditation chamber with in his vessel. Slowly, his hands grasped the robes about his form and unwrapped himself, hanging them upon a hook just outside his chamber. Moving through his ship, chamber by chamber the male body traveled along naked through his deserted ship until he came to his private chambers. With in, he walked to a closet door and opened the doors and quickly clad himself in a black armorweave body suit. Then the male form moved away from the closet and stared for several moments at the black armor upon it's stand, before hands reverently ran over the equipment. Then fingers begs to lift the pieces of armor and placed them upon his body. Soon the male was clad in his armor and he was moving through his ship, heading towards the hanger bay.
Boarding his simple vessel, he slowly powered the ship up, and soon was lifting upwards. A double sides door slide to each side, water rushing in from the lake above it concealing the entrance. Unperturbed the male lifted his ship upwards through the ensuing waterfall, knowing the water would be pumped back up out of this hanger and back up in to the lake above. The ship however lifted up out of the lake, then moved away from the worldship. The vessel slowly moved through space, heading towards the planet made famous during the ancient war between the sith and the republic for the plague that had ravaged the planet as well as many other planets of the galaxy.
Approaching the planet almost forty minutes later under thruster power, the small inconspicuous shuttle contacted the planet below asking for permission to land and then for a place to do such. When confirmation was received, the vessel was piloted down through the atmosphere towards the designated docking birth. Landing claws extended from the vessel, and the ship settled to the planet. Darth Apollyon exited his craft on to Taris to search for something quite ancient.
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Post by Varric Kel'oranii on Mar 30, 2014 20:09:24 GMT -8
A CR90 corvette comes out of hyperspace.
Varric Kel'oranii stands on the observation deck looking down at the planet, a slight smirk appearing on his face. He awaits word from the bridge, his communication officer was no doubt already talking to the Taris port authority requesting permission to land. His smirk quickly diminished, he did not want to allow himself to feel excited. The man he has been hunting for over 5 months has eluded them twice now. He had found a solid lead from one of the man's black market connections. The black market dealer, a rather cowardly Rodian named Gratho, buckled after only thirty seconds of interrogation. Then he became all too willing to give Varric everything he knew about his target, including his destination.
The man, Beeton Quan, is a human from one of the Core worlds. He upset a member of the Hutt Cartel and a rather sizable bounty had been placed on his head, which did not have to be returned attached to his body. Varric stares intensely at the planet below, you won't escape me this time, he thinks to himself. Normally he does not allow missions like this to become personal. But he was tired of working for the Hutts...but they had agreed to end his contract if he caught Quan and returned him, dead or alive. Varric was not even sure of what Quan had done, nor did he really care. He only cared about the credits, and the chance at being free of the cartel for good.
His relationship with the Hutts became strained after Jabba's death. He was one of Jabba's best enforcers, but had been away doing wetwork for the giant worm when he was killed. Some of Jabba's family saw it as Varric's fault for not being there, and that meant that he began having more low-level assignments and could not leave without threat of being hunted due to his contract. He did not mind working for a single employer, as long as the credits were good, but he did not like being anyone's lapdog, to be sent on menial tasks.
His thoughts were interrupted by the crackling of the comm speaker in the observation desk coming to life. Varric moves from the observation port to the speaker terminal and activates the line. An image of Commander Nathan Braddock appears on the screen. Braddock is the captain of Varric's vessel, and a veteran of many wars, both galactic and private. "Sir, we have received permission to land," Braddock's voice gives away his age. The man had to be in his early 60's, which was young when compared to Feeorin, but Varric understood that to humans 60 was a decently old age.
"Thank you commander. Have the larty prepped for launch." Varric knew that anything larger than a 5 man team would draw too much attention, even on this planet. Anyone could get lost in the crowd, even Quan, but too many people in that crowd asking questions could spook their target and send him to the Undercity...Varric had been there before and did not want to go back. The diseased beasts that infest that place nearly overwhelmed him.
"One more thing sir," Braddock smiles, "we received word from our cartel contact in the port authority that a shuttle arrived here a few hours ago and that a man matching Mr. Quan's description disembarked it. But I am afraid that is the end of the good new sir." Braddock's smile quickly turns into a frown. Varric shudders...he already knows what the man is going to say. "Sir, it appears that he was last seen heading towards the Undercity elevators." Varric moved his head left to right, popping his neck, it is one of the quirks he does when he is annoyed. "Alright...thank you commander. I was hoping to avoid that blasted place. Ok, just get my larty ready, I am leaving immediately. Keep the ship in a standard orbit and keep two teams ready on standby in case things go south, Varric out."
Varric looks at the blank screen with an irritated expression on his face. He keys up on-board barracks and sends a message to Echo Team's quarters. "Cpl. Kor, get your men ready. We are leaving for the Undercity, armor and cloaks, and extra grenades and power packs. Meet at the larty in 15." He hits send and a few moments later a reply is sent back "Roger sir" is all it says. With that Varric began walking toward his shuttle, and would begin his trip down to the planet.
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Lia Corusa
Member
Just your average runaway Barbie biatch.
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Post by Lia Corusa on Apr 17, 2014 14:44:49 GMT -8
The ship shook momentarily as upward motion turned into forward motion, and speed spooled up quickly. Altitude increased with the newfound speed, and soon they were rocketing toward open orbit, leaving the Tarisian upper city behind. They were in that strange twilight which wasn't quite space, but also wasn't quite atmo, where sunlight danced and shapes elongated and distorted through the viewport. It was Krayton's favorite place of all, but the moment was fleeting, as it always was, and after only a few seconds they had cleared atmo, and were in open space.
The motion of the old ship lessened as the forces of gravity were stripped away, until the ship was almost still, free from swaying, creaking and clanking. Krayton made no immediate attempt at responding to Lia's questions, instead busying himself with the navicomputer, making calculations for their first jump. Finally, he laced his fingers behind his head, and leaned back in the pilot's chair. Yeah, I know where it is. Problem with mining is, any Tom, Dick or Harry with half a brain can buy a claim to land. Big corporations can do this on a planetary scale. Makes finding a profit for guys like me a touch difficult. Or very illegal. So for those of us in my rarefied profession who still want to turn rocks into business, we have to go a little further out there. Asteroids. You can't buy 'em. Can't really lay claim to 'em either, on account of they tend to destroy themselves with a frightening regularity. But rocks is rocks. Some better'n others. So yeah. A dust dive is like mining. Only in an asteroid field. With the odds of survival approximately 3720 to 1, or so I've heard. I heard they call it dust diving because you're more liable to end up dust, either from the collisions or the explosives. shrug Makes no nevermind to me, really. Anyway. I need a partner. Can't leave the ship on autopilot, so I need someone to fly while I dig up rocks. Krayton stood up, and pushed through the curtain of wires aft of the cockpit, standing over Lia. First jump is in a few minutes.
…Of course, she could always just leave Krayton on the asteroid and make a break for the nearest planet on her own if something went wrong. Cold move? Totally. But Lia’s game was survival at any cost, so…yeah. She could do that, if things went badly. She’d abandoned people before to keep her own skin. This guy should be easy enough to kick, if needed.
Yep. Okay.“I fly, you dig. Doesn't look like we have much of a choice, does it?” She jerked her chin towards the cockpit. “But if you want to keep your ride in one piece, you better show me how to work this thing, or we’ll both be a tiny smear on your floating dig site.” |
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Darth Malvus
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Affiliation: Resurgent Sith Conclave
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Post by Darth Malvus on Apr 22, 2014 20:18:06 GMT -8
From the depths of space came Helot-class medium space transport, Draco, from hyperspace. The trajectory speed was adjusted as the ship descended for the planet. Within the cockpit, a pair of Sith eyes gazed down at the planet that got closer and closer as his transport descended.
A few nights ago, the Force had revealed to him a vision. A figure, possibly a female, encased in a frozen substance. His eyes closed for a moment as the trajectory was adjusted by the nav computer. Who was this figure? Why was the substance around the person frozen? And why was the Dark Side bringing him to Taris? This planet had lost its significance and it was a mere husk of what it once was.
A beep was heard as his clearance was given. He sharply descended towards the planet and Force that urged him further.
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Darth Malvus
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Post by Darth Malvus on Apr 23, 2014 18:52:19 GMT -8
From the surface of Taris, the Helot-class medium transport makes for open space. Valstrol keys the autopilot once the hyperspace coordinates were keyed. His eyes turn to Bria who was in the co-pilots seat.
If you wish to be dropped off anywhere, Bria, just tell me when. I suspect you have your own journeys to attend to.
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Post by Bria Shadowlight-Tarkin on Apr 23, 2014 19:06:51 GMT -8
To her where would she go, what she had known was no more, what was a head was known also. For now she almost needed to know that there was no more of the family to be head. Opening her eyes to feel his present upon her in a way.
There is no where I can think, of if you would take me on board I would find my way to earn, my keep. I'm am after all skilled in the healing arts, I just need some where to regrow some of my precious. life giving or life taking beauties.
It was this point that she would know if her path would go a different way or if it would be some how twisted with his own quest. It was after all something deeper with in that had called him to this planet to find what had been buried. Then again was it really for them to deside.
Before you answer me, what did draw you to the planet to see out my resting place.
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Darth Malvus
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Post by Darth Malvus on Apr 23, 2014 19:11:24 GMT -8
Slowly the Sith crosses his arms and, for the first time, removed his hood. It revealed his Sith skin and eyes, a bloody crimson. His eyes gazed upon the stars as the ship began to prep itself for hyperspace. After a few moments, Valstrol looks over at Bria.
The Force did, Bria. It was the Force.
With that, the ship jumped into hyperspace.
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Krayton Jantsk
The Organization
down, and dirty.
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Post by Krayton Jantsk on May 26, 2014 12:10:25 GMT -8
Lia snorted, angling a look up at Krayton. “Then you’re screwed, buddy, ‘cause I’m not much of a pilot.” She rose, tossing him back the bit of vexxtal, and faced the man squarely. Space had swallowed them whole and the air grew sharp with chill, but after roughing it in cargo holds and blocked vents for five years, it didn't bother her much. “The last time I touched a control board was over Manaan, and let’s just say it was a loooong swim back. So.” She crossed her arms, leaning on one hip, careful not to step on anything around her as she shifted her stance. Truth be told, Lia wasn't sure what held less risk of death for her: piloting this flying bomb or digging through an asteroid for rare crystals. Neither sounded appealing. Sure, she took risks every now and then, worked dangerous jobs, bet on dangerous people, but this? This wasn't dangerous, this was suicidal. There was no out, nothing to fall back on if things went sour. The runaway liked to keep one foot in, one foot out, just in case she needed to back out. But this was a two-feet-in kind of job, and in Lia’s small experience, two-feet-in never ended well, and that went for anything from jobs to relationships.
…Of course, she could always just leave Krayton on the asteroid and make a break for the nearest planet on her own if something went wrong. Cold move? Totally. But Lia’s game was survival at any cost, so…yeah. She could do that, if things went badly. She’d abandoned people before to keep her own skin. This guy should be easy enough to kick, if needed.
Yep. Okay.“I fly, you dig. Doesn't look like we have much of a choice, does it?” She jerked her chin towards the cockpit. “But if you want to keep your ride in one piece, you better show me how to work this thing, or we’ll both be a tiny smear on your floating dig site.” Look, it's pretty easy. Yoke down, ship noses down. Yoke back, ship noses up. Right pedal, thrust. Left pedal, reverse thrust. Yoke left-right -- yaw. Yoke spin -- roll. indicating a series of switches close to the left hand activates or deactivates banks of maneuvering jets, for fine or coarse pitch and yaw control. buttons near the right hand torpedos, blasters, lasers, backups. You might've noticed, the ship has a lot of weapons. We need 'em to stay alive. blasters are fire-linked. Lasers are point-and-shoot. Triggers are on the yoke. points. lasers. points. blasters. points. torpedos. Readouts here for life support, surface crew vitals, coolant, shields. He leaned back, fiddled with the navacomp once or twice, and turned back to face her. Look, it ain't rocket science. Trick in asteroid nav is to keep moving. Always moving. Fly the straight line, you're gonna eat it. And keep firing. I've modified this crate to cool the lasers at twice the rate of a standard cannon. Means our range is for shit, but trust me -- everything you do will be at close range, so it don't matter. blasters are trained to fire with the target HUD, so where you look, it shoots. You got two things going for you, far as I can tell. We're diving on one of the bigger 'roids, which affords you some safety. Flying the bigger 'roids can end up more like canyon and terrain hugging. and instead of flying in the storm of smaller ones, at least the biggun is going to move more predictably, so you only have to worry about what's coming at you from above. And two -- He thought for a moment, legitimately trying to come up with another 'plus.'Two -- if you get hit, neither of us will be around to give you grief for it. On that note, which the spacer seemed satisfied with as a second positive, he pressed a series of buttons on the flashing console, half of which she had never seen or encountered before in her life, the buttons and their intended use a complete mystery, and the stars enveloped them as the ship entered hyperspace. |
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Post by Maedhros Or'dinii on Jul 23, 2015 11:18:54 GMT -8
I am claiming abandonment on this planet. Since there is no governing body recorded on the surface/orbit in... Well.. Ever.. Nor a planetary guide I will begin the next phase in an attack. Please see below for details below if any questions or concerns: After 3 months of inactivity: Complete forfeit of planet or location to any invaders. Should the previous owner wish to attempt to take back their planet or location they are required to bring an outside force in order to defend and/or reacquire the planet or location. Read more: boards.jedivsith.com/thread/275/location-ownership#ixzz3gkB7jR3K |
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Post by Maedhros Or'dinii on Jul 27, 2015 9:31:14 GMT -8
Taris' orbit.. Quiet almost lifeless. A debris field from the old shipyard orbits the planet. Caught in the slow pull of its orbit. Slowly revolving around the planet. Yet a larger area still remains. What seems to be the old docking area which was connected to the cargo bay/storage area. Sits still in orbit, as if the stabilizers were still functioning. Two sets of ships can be seen, easily spotted among the wreckage. No signs of damage, sometimes moving opposite of the debris field. They don't seem to be of the same faction or group, yet they do not attack one another. Just keep to their sides, sending ships back and forth. Sometimes coming and going, with no a care in the galaxy. Little did they know, that would soon change. As events were unraveling in a system nearby that would cause much disturbance and thus bring, life back to this once bustling system.. For now however, they continue their daily routines. Unnoticed by the rest of the galaxy.. For now....
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Post by Maedhros Or'dinii on Jul 28, 2015 7:36:04 GMT -8
Aboard one of the Pirate ships the crew sits tired from a night of partying.. They've been stuck watching their holdings here about a month now. They were getting fat, and bored.The Captain stood on the bridge alone, sipping from a bottle of firewater. He watched over the monitors as if just waiting for something to happen.The ship fairly small, fast moving. It has been patched up and modified so much that you could'nt tell by looking at it what model it was or who manufactured it.The captain grew tired of staring at the screen, his eyes were bloodshot and felt sore.For weeks he just watched. Not truly taking any time for himself. He yearned for battle, it was like a drug for him. There was nothing like the rush of the hunt, the adrenaline that flowed right before a kill. He didn't like this, but he was stuck here. Laying low from some beef one of the other captains had brought on them. Nobody knew they were there, and nobody came around so this was the perfect place to hide out. That however was not him, he needed action. There was nothing that Booze, Women, could do to satisfy him. Which is ironically the only thing he had, had an abundance of.Finally after an hour of staring he stepped away and sat at his seat at the helm and of the doors to the bridge slid open with a hiss... A women, he looked at her for a second and turned away in disinterest. She wasn't all that covered up, probably just coming from a night spent with one of the other crew. She held a rather large open black bottle in her hand, something vintage, he couldn't really tell. The label had been peeled off and someone had painted a skull in white on it. He stared out into space not really caring for her presence. Still she walked over to him with a smirk on her face.She figured she had the captain all to herself. She had been waiting for a chance, he spent most of his time on the bridge never wanting to be bothered.
=Women=
She said, smirk still on her face.He held the bottle of firewater up so she can see.
=Captain=
Her smirk faded a little, disappointment grew on her face. But she was not going to be sent away that easy.She walked over to him and sat on his lap and turned to face him putting her legs aross him so that he could not get up. He sat as if unaffected staring past her.
=Women=
He let out a grunt still not looking in her direction.
=Captain=
With that said he pushed her legs and lifted her off of him, placing her standing on the ground in front of him. Then stood and started walking towards the exit.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Mar 10, 2016 21:02:18 GMT -8
Winking into view as it emerges from hyperspace, a Nemesis-class patrol ship slows its speed after adjusting its course to bring it onto an approach vector for Taris while contacting the orbital controllers for a clearance to make for the Upper City.
Once the ship has been cleared and assigned a flight path, her pilot makes the necessary alterations to the vessel's speed and heading required to bring it onto its assigned course, and then continues onward and then downward for the Upper City.
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Fabian Valorum
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Posts: 23
Affiliation: Power, Himself
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Fabian Valorum on Jun 28, 2016 2:34:34 GMT -8
A transport shuttle made its way towards Taris' orbit, opening a channel to Tarisian Orbital Control for clearance to the Upper City. "We're carrying Chief Whip Fabian Valorum on board. He's in an emergency to get to the Senate." The vidscreen in the centre of the control panel sprung to life and several officers from Orbital Control appeared on the screen. One of them looked up from their paperwork and intoned:
From the backseat of the the shuttle cockpit, Fabian Valorum restrained his desire to let loose a sigh. It was necessary to maintain the public image of a gentleman at all times, so complying was his best - and only - option. Fabian leaned forward into the vidscreen's view with a charismatic smile and greeted Orbital Control. "Yes, good evening. It's a rather urgent trip to the Senate, gentlemen, so if you could maximize the speed of the process - "
Still maintaining his gentlemanly smile despite being cut off, Fabian reclined back into the seat and thought: *How rude of them. But I don't blame them. They sit up there all day and night long, scouring visitors for smugglers and desperate alien refugees and all - for a pittance of a wage. But of course, without them, we might indeed be overrun by Selonians or the Gran or heaven forbid, the Gungans. Everyone is but an integral cog of the giant working machine. Without the common people, what would there be a Senate for? We don't sit and deliberate aimlessly for eight hours before deciding to raise the people's taxes. We represent the people.* The shuttle had entered Taris' atmosphere for several seconds now and the Senate building was now visible. *Well, we represent their votes. Their fanatacism and their stupidity. And the few true genius minds out there.*
The shuttle landed on one of the Senate's landing pads.
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Fabian Valorum
Member
Posts: 23
Affiliation: Power, Himself
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Fabian Valorum on Jul 3, 2016 18:06:24 GMT -8
A luxury shuttle carrying Fabian Valorum zoomed out of Taris' orbit. After a customary check with Orbital Control, the wings extended, the hyperdrive was engaged, and the ship vanished into an infinitely distant point in space.
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Thrakk Valinor
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Posts: 194
Affiliation: Sith Eternal
Traffic Light: Yellow
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Post by Thrakk Valinor on Aug 24, 2016 22:03:51 GMT -8
* The Infernums Fury comes out of hyperspace at Taris. The Resurgence Class Star Destroyer enters a standard orbit of the planet, naval personnel and engineers go to their stations *
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Post by Zuka Zammanee Tarkin on Aug 25, 2016 14:16:49 GMT -8
Zuka, looking refreshed and in a clean First Order uniform altered for fleet Admirals, stepped through the imposing blast doors onto the bridge. The senior officers quickly lined up and saluted their admiral, each gripping a data pad storing their departments updates. After a brief exchange Zuka was updated on the important developments during the trip from Agamar. With the ship now in orbit Zuka approached the communications officer on duty while at his station. "Hail them."The young officer quickly replied, "Admiral, they are hailing us.", "Patch it through."Zuka said. The officer did so and a transmission from the Tarisian Prime Minister echoed through the busy bridge. Many greetings Admiral Tarkin! On behalf of the citizens of Taris and the Tarisian Senate I welcome you to Taris. We have prepared an apartment near the Senate Building for you and your staff to stay during your time here. I would also like to invite you to dinner, here at the Minister's Estate.Zuka interrupted suddenly, Minister Swoon, you may dispense with the pleasantries as they are not required. I will not require an apartment as I do not expect these negotiations to take very long. You will provide me with the coordinates of where my meeting with Senator Dunn. I intend to begin immediately.The shocked prime minister replied like a whimpering cub...I... I understand. If there is anything I or my officer can do to assist you during your...Zuka interrupts once more. The coordinates Minister Swoon is all I require.Zuka then reached over the young officer and killed the transmission. While the coordinates were being transmitted, Commander Remus, who had transferred over to the Infernum's Fury just before departing Agamar. Commander Remus, being a long serving officer under Zuka had earned the privilege of speaking candidly with the admiral."Admiral, is it wise to provoke the minister like that? Won't that behavior harm the negotiations?" Zuka released a grin, "No, Prime Minister Swoon is weak and by treating him poorly that only hurts his already weakened reputation. Also commander... I am not hear to negotiate anything. Senator Dunn will accept whatever agreement I place before him, Taris will belong to House Tarkin once more. See that preparations are made for my departure.Remus saluted and marched to the other side of the bridge to coordinate a shuttle and security detail for Zuka. While this happened Zuka walked to a terminal and hailed Lord Valinor in his quarters...Lord Valinor, we have arrived. When you and your men are ready I will have Taris' flight control sensors deactivated so that you and your men can make it to the surface without it being traced back to the Fury.As Zuka communicated with Valinor, his Shadow Guard began loading up into a shuttle being prepped for the Admiral. Back on the bridge a team of officers, using data provided to them by Senator Ramoon Poole began hacking into the planet's flight control database in an effort to distort Taris' ability to track and detect incoming and outgoing star ships...
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Thrakk Valinor
Member
Posts: 194
Affiliation: Sith Eternal
Traffic Light: Yellow
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Post by Thrakk Valinor on Aug 27, 2016 17:42:26 GMT -8
* Thrakk's eyes open as he listens to the message from Zuka. The Imperial Hand rises from his seat as and walks forward, his coat, combat belt and dual lightsabers come forth from the shadows and he places them on him. Thrakk stretches as the blast doors to his chamber open, exiting his chambers he walks for a few minutes before entering the lifts that take him down to one of the hangars. Thrakk beckons to a young ensign to come forward. *
" Send a message to the bridge....I am heading town to the planet "
* Thrakk walks past the young ensign, his red coat billowing slightly behind him, his black boots making muffled clicks as he walks across the polished hanger floor. With his right hand he makes a small gesture to follow and Commander Noctis quickly comes up to him and matches his stride *
" Be ready to deploy as soon as call for you "
* Before Noctis can Answer with a protest, Thrakk motions for him to stay silent as he boards the Errant Fyre. Once he is inside the ship, Thrakk orders for the pilots to take off and head down to the planet *
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