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Post by Shaman Odin Alfodr on Feb 26, 2013 22:56:20 GMT -8
*The hypnotic blue and white swirls of hyperspace are all that exist here.*
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Jago
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Post by Jago on Oct 7, 2013 17:18:50 GMT -8
The Starblazer
En Route to Caridia The YT-1000 bearing two Republic Spies and a Jedi Master, three important members of Yavin IV's fate, streaked through the kaleidoscope of blue and white that was hyperspace, racing towards a former Imperial Fortress World in the hopes of bringing salvation to a group of trapped Jedi. Stranger circumstances had happened before in The Galaxy, and they almost always coincided with times of great upheaval. Were the situation any different, Republic Agent Veren Eks could have sworn that preamble was the introduction to a joke. They were on a horrible timetable and already behind schedule by days, but the very nature of hyperspace demanded patience and a relief of boredom.
So it was in the past few hours that Veren had sat down at a slightly-malfunctioning dejarik table with Jedi Master and Admiral Ronan Starflare, using the holographic projections as a poor stand-in to try and best relay the tactical and strategic situation currently embroiling the Jungle Moon in nigh-constant blaster fire and explosions.
" Your friends are here," the Mirialan denoted on the board, using the Mantellian Savrip to indicate the position of Yavin IV itself, " And the last known position of the majority of the Mandalorian Fleet is here."
Surrounding the poor native of Ord Mantell were several Ng'ok holoprojections, Veren having specifically chosen the creatures to represent the Crusaders as his way of speaking ill about them. It was apparent, however, that the majority of them seemed to be concentrated around one area, right in front of a Kintan Strider piece.
" That's Yavin Station. Cross-referencing intelligence network data along with the burst transmission files of the Station itself, it appears to have gone dark. No communication in or out for the past several days. Now, we know that you lot have outfitted that platform with enough weaponry to hold back an armada, and our reasonable estimation is that the Mandos are in complete control of the Orbital Station."
It was an interesting choice, to represent the station as the Kintan Strider, seen by many as the most important game piece, and its loss supposedly devastating. Veren continued on with his explanation, smirking softly as he was able to let the Master in on a few of RIS's little secrets.
" If the Station is in the hands of our enemies, it makes us wonder why Yavin IV isn't a glass crater by now. The only thing that can be inferred, in my opinion, is that your friends found a way to take the Station out of their hands. Lock it down, somehow. If the Mandos haven't used it yet, there's a reason: they can't use it. This is both good and bad."
Agent Eks placed two Molators, avatars of the Alderaanian mythical beast, Grimtaash, on both sides of the Kintan Strider, showing that the Ng'oks were clearly nowhere in a position to be struck by them on the board as they massed behind the Strider.
" Surface-To-Space Ion Cannons. Probably don't need to brief you on those, but they're the only thing, aside from the Temple's Deflector Shield, stopping the Mando Fleet from vaping the moon. Those guns are holding them at bay: they can't move past Yavin Station without risking being completely disabled. So while they control the Station, it's also more of a detriment to them. They can't abandon the platform without the risk of your allies retaking it and using it against them, nor can they move past it in a direct line to the Temple to end this matter quickly. While they've set up a pretty sophisticated blockade around the entire rock, it would still take days upon days to march from the opposite side of the moon to the Praxeum. Your friends have Intelligence's commendations for mitigating their foe so well."
Veren leaned back in his seat, allowing Ronan to take the poor-replacement for a true tactical readout into thought, wondering if the Master Jedi would see something he, perhaps, did not.
" You're outgunned by about seven-to-one, if not more. Plenty of Capital Ships in orbit, and a nebula of starfighters on top of that. If you want to run the blockade, you're going to need one devil of a clever plan to do so successfully."
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Ronan Starflare
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Post by Ronan Starflare on Oct 7, 2013 18:50:06 GMT -8
*He had seen worse representations of a battlefield before. Though for what they had available to them, he commended Veren for his ingenuity. A Dejarik board was as good a map as they were going to get. Ronan was stood, hunched over the thing, making the connections that Veren was pointing out to him.
He was greatly disturbed that Yavin Station had fallen. That complicated things greatly, including his eventual plans to not only break, but shatter the Mandalorian blockade of his homeworld. However, that was down the road, and he had to concentrate on the here and now.*
"Seven-to-one odds are not insurmountable. Merely inopportune. I'm more concerned with the starfighters."
*In his mind's eye all he could see was a cloud of Mandalorian Bes'uliike flying between him and the Jungle Moon where his friends so desperately needed aid. And he had but one ship with which to make such a, what others would call, idiotic suicide mission.*
"Do we have any information on the specific counts of ships? Or distribution? I need to know just how blindly I'll be flying..."
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Dav Man'Sell
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Post by Dav Man'Sell on Oct 11, 2013 6:04:17 GMT -8
Carrie sat in the engineer's seat across the room from the Dejarik table - it wasn't that she didn't find what Veren was showing Ronan interesting, but the other agent was the Military Intelligence pro, and she had very little to contribute. She listened intently, thoughtful, but had nothing to say through much of Veren's briefing.
Still, she felt astounded by the fact that she was here at all. A year ago, she'd been living in a dingy little one-room apartment in Coruscant's undercity, searching for a brother she never thought she'd see again, living in constant fear of the Diori Protection - a criminal syndicate that had completely and exclusively dominated over fifteen levels, across an entire city-sector. She'd been convinced that she'd die, probably alone, probably young, probably without finding Thom, and almost certainly broke.
Then it had all changed. Within the space of less than a week, everything about her life had changed. Now she worked for Republic Intelligence, and was really making a difference. She was helping make the Galaxy a better place, realising an ambition she'd never even known she had."Seven-to-one odds are not insurmountable. Merely inopportune. I'm more concerned with the starfighters."
Seven-to-one odds.
She remembered, vividly, six months earlier. When everything had changed, when she had met Dav. Seven-to-one odds. How amusing that it was those numbers. They'd been at that little cafe... Philiis and Jery's cafe. Such a lovely old couple. And the thugs from the Diori Protection had come in, on another of their extortion rounds. Dav had told Carrie to get Jery and Philiis to safety. She'd took them into the back rooms, there had been the sound of blaster shots, and when she'd gotten back...
~~~~=Carrie=
"Holy hells of the Sith..."
She was stood in the doorway, blaster in hand, and her jaw hung open, as she surveyed the scene before her. Dav stood, his back to her, amid the downed thugs.
The blaster shots had happened less than a minute ago. Less than sixty seconds.
=Carrie=
"I heard the blasters from out back. I got the old couple upstairs and safe, and got back down here as quick as I could... did you do all this?"
Dav looked down at the thugs. When he spoke, there was a sobriety about his voice, a simple, and understated intonation.
"Yes, I did this."
She took a few more steps into the room, aghast entirely as she looked at the thugs. The Weequay... and it's head... were in two different parts of the room. That was a bit grim. But the hardware they'd carried - it didn't take an expert in weaponry to recognise that they'd been packing serious firepower.
Yet as she looked back up at Dav, she could see that there wasn't a scratch on him.
=Carrie=
"But there were seven of them!"
Dav was leaning down now to check the wounds of a Gammorean, who was clearly still alive, but unconscious, wheezing heavily. Each wheeze sounded painful, and the Jedi seemed to be checking a wound in the Porcine being's chest. He didn't turn towards her as he answered her.
"Yes, there was."
She frowned as she stepped over the fallen, headless Weequay, looking around.
=Carrie=
"Wait, where are the other two?"
"One ran before it started. I sent the other with a message for his bosses once it was done. This was his..." He tossed a blaster pistol to her, which she caught, albeit slightly clumsily. She looked down at the weapon in her hand, and then up at Dav, and then back to the floor, as she circled into the centre of the room.
=Carrie=
"Are these someone's fingers?"
Dav didn't answer, busying himself with collecting any weapons that were still intact, piling them up on one of the tables. She turned around, looking at him, thoroughly in awe.
=Carrie=
"Let me get a little clarity on this. You took on seven heavily armed men on your own, scared one of them off before it even started, and then defeated the remaining six in a matter of seconds?"
Dav glanced at her soberly as he placed the last weapons on the table.
"That about sums it up, yes."~~~~
Sure, he'd given her a telling off for making light of the death and violence - and, she had been quite willing to admit, rightly too - but literally, seven-to-one odds, and he'd handled it in under a minute. In the hands of a Jedi, such odds really weren't insurmountable.
"Do we have any information on the specific counts of ships? Or distribution? I need to know just how blindly I'll be flying..."
She lifted her head, glanced at Veren, and then spoke up. She knew this answer.
=Carrie=
"We don't, but their forces are... substantial. After the initial attack, outposts in the area reported large Mandalorian fleet movements. The blockade of the planet is huge. Easily hundreds of ships."
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Ronan Starflare
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Post by Ronan Starflare on Oct 12, 2013 8:41:55 GMT -8
"Hundreds of..."
*He cut himself off as his glance wandered back down to the board game from the female agent across the way. So each one of those characters, save the Savrip, counted for much more than a single ship and both her escort and fighter compliments. Hundreds of capital ships, in turn, implied thousands of fighters.
He buried his forehead in a hand, leaning his elbow on the table to support his mind, weighed down with thoughts of strategy. His breathing was quick, his heart was racing. His own voice echoed inside of his head.*
Thousands of starfighters? This is asinine. Not even with this bucket re-plated with StealthX panels would we make it past all of that.
*In truth, he had drawn up more plans to form blockades rather than run them. He looked up, his eyes wide, and he looked right past the Mirialan sitting opposite of him. He was used to simulating blockades. So say this was his blockade, what would he be planning against.*
I would have laid an interdiction minefield outside the immediate blockade area in a spherical pattern around the target. Frequent starfighter and Star Destroyer patrols around all known hyperspace reversion points. I would plan for both small and large reversions.
*It didn't help that he had no knowledge of his Mandalorian counterpart. Who it was, their individual style, the fleet distribution they used. He didn't have anything to go on but the words of two RIS agents.*
I would plan for both small and large reversions. But maybe not for both at the same time. Or in short succession. A large enough feint at one point would draw most of the Mandalorian help off from another, maybe look enough to open a window for a fast freighter and maybe one or two StealthX escorts to evade what was left of the current patrol at their reversion point and make it down to the Praxeum.*
*He had only looked off into the distance for a second, maybe two before looking back to Veren, then to Carrie.*
"I've got it."
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Jago
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Post by Jago on Oct 16, 2013 15:41:10 GMT -8
" Got it ..?"
Agent Eks rose slowly from the table, pacing slightly around the holographic display as he viewed the situation. In all honesty, it seemed hopeless. Daunting at the very least, very daunting.
And out of the blue, this Jedi from Yavin IV simply "got it"?
" Would you mind enlightening us, Master Starflare?" he gestured between himself and Agent Stonewilde.
" Because I'm afraid that I don't quite 'get it' at the moment ..."
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Dav Man'Sell
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Post by Dav Man'Sell on Oct 16, 2013 15:50:19 GMT -8
Carrie looked at her fellow intelligence officer, then at Ronan, then at the checkerboard holo-table, and then, back again at Ronan. Just to check, she looked once more at Veren.
She found herself similarly befuddled. This, she decided, had to be another universal trait for Jedi; their capacity to comprehend stuff and leave the rest of the people standing around looking at the same information absolutely clueless.
Must be something to do with that whole 'The Force allows you to see things beyond non-Force sensitives' thing. Would this be what Dav referred to as a 'deeply buried truth', or whatever it was he said?
Suffice it to say, what ever it was that the Jedi had 'got', Carrie most definitely had not. She was pleased to see that Veren also had not 'got' it. It was still there, waiting for them to 'get'.
=Carrie=
"No, me either."
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Ronan Starflare
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Post by Ronan Starflare on Oct 17, 2013 12:50:29 GMT -8
He smiled back at the pair in all honesty. It was a reaction he was used to from the men on any of his ships who did not really understand the way his mind worked. His fingers flew across the keys on the table, quickly resetting things and bringing up a different scenario and he launched into his explanation.
"It goes a little something like this..."
==============================================================
"...see? It's really quite simple."
He was standing now, pacing the cargo hold because it simply difficult for him to keep still. Such a plan was risky, he knew. But it was certainly feasible. And it would only work once. That was what scared him the most. He turned back to the two intelligence agents, hoping to see their comprehension.
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Dav Man'Sell
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Post by Dav Man'Sell on Oct 22, 2013 17:12:26 GMT -8
The pixieish young spy pouted, thoughtfully, as she considered what Ronan had laid out. Finally, she looked to Veren, and with a slight expression of reluctant concession, gave him a shrug.
=Carrie=
"It sounds mad to me, but then, so did most of the ideas the last Jedi I met suggested, and they generally turned out to be some kind of genius."
She wondered what the elder agent made of it all. He was, after all, a far more experienced and strategically minded member of the Republic Intelligence Services.
She also rather wondered whether Veren, in his years of service, had had the fortune of working closely with a Jedi like she had. It occurred to her that most people, even in their line of work, could reasonably go their whole lives and not partner themselves with a Jedi for a single day of it - if so, in that respect, she was perhaps the more experienced of the two of them.
Now wouldn't that be an amusing turn-up for the books?
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Jago
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Post by Jago on Oct 27, 2013 9:21:37 GMT -8
Veren stroked his chin thoughtfully, his thumb brushing over the intricately detailed cultural tattoo that rested there as he contemplated Master Starflare's plan. It was intriguing, to say the least. The RIS Operative made a note that Carrie had seemed to be okay with the development, if not at least a little hesitant about the affair in its entirety. She was still green, that was for sure, but blossoming into a thoughtful and intelligent agent. Veren had actually been quite pleased that she had been assigned to him: her insights, usually rather different from his, were a welcome boon in the field.
After taking another moment to consider, Agent Eks nodded slowly.
" It ... could work. Possibly. There's a lot hanging on mitigating factors and a damn healthy amount of luck, but it's better than anything we've got so far. I would not call it simple," he noted, " But ... doable. Most likely. But not alone, definitely not alone."
Veren paced back to the simple holodisplay of the game board, wondering what it was they were missing.
" Master Starflare, do you know of any others of your lot that may have been off-world at the time of the invasion? Anyone at all that could lend us a hand in this? We're going to need ... Well, we're going to need a miracle, but good, solid people tend to make up for that."
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Ronan Starflare
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Post by Ronan Starflare on Oct 27, 2013 17:16:41 GMT -8
"In my experience, there's no such thing as luck."
As anyone sensitive to the Force, and its direction would tell you, they always acted a bit more on instinct than on luck or knowledge. A kind of gut feeling, even. Ronan had never really considered himself lucky, though others had called him that. He simply followed the will of the Force.
As for the Mirialan's question, he had give it some serious thought. Obviously there were his ships that had "defected" with him to Bastion. Apparently Joshua had not been on-world either when the Mandalorians attacked, according to the RIS agents' testimony back on the Imperial homeworld.
"There are some. Joshua Kierra-Solo, like you both mentioned back on Bastion. Brings with him a state-of-the-art StealthX. My own assets, a group of five capital ships and six squadrons of starfighters. Not enough to warrant a big-enough feint, I don't think."
He racked his brain thinking of something else. Most of the Jay-Pee-Tee's ships were either destroyed or sent to rendezvous somewhere he did not know.
And then, it came to him.
"There's also the Mraz."
The mighty Executor-class Super Star Destroyer, he rememebered, was off running aid missions on the opposite side of the galaxy. It had all the supplies they could have possibly needed.
"But she's too far away to help right now. And I don't think those on the Jungle Moon can wait for it to return. We can't afford to wait."
It was a difficult spot to be in. So much help possible, just not soon enough. He buried his face in his left hand as he walked. He needed to know what he had available to him. He turned back to the Mirialan spy.
"I think we need to drop out of hyperspace. I need to know what I can work with. Even if it only confirms what I already know, I need that information."
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Jago
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Post by Jago on Oct 30, 2013 16:48:24 GMT -8
" Dropping out. Good idea."
Veren nodded to the plan, realizing that allies were going to make all the difference here. If they could not be found, then Ronan was still correct in wanting to garner intelligence. With a small nod to Carrie and the Jedi Master, the Mirialan departed for the cockpit.
Settling into the captain's chair of the old freighter, Agent Eks winced a little as he leaned back against the cushioning. The Starblazer was certainly showing its age: the nerf leather seats were worn and faded, and his particular spot had a place where the frame was poking through against his thigh. She wasn't flashy, but they weren't necessarily looking for flashy when they left Bastion: just fast.
And fast she was. Looking at the displays, Veren had already noted they had come quite a distance since their last readjustment. Taking in the astrogation charts, his hand slowly eased the throttle down. The blue wormhole seemed to stretch forward before the cockpit, lines appearing amongst a black backdrop until they, too, receded to being white dots within the void.
Space. With nothing around them whatsoever. Here, they were in the stillness of The Universe, where eyes could barely see and ships tended to stay far away from. It gave Veren a chill, the omnipresent darkness. He much preferred his feet on solid ground, not left drifting in a space that felt more like purgatory than life.
Shaking the jitters away, Veren quickly swept away from the unsettling display to rejoin the RIS Agent and Master Starflare back in their makeshift "briefing room".
" Should be all set. Holocomm is active and ready to send and receive, Master Jedi."
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Ronan Starflare
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Post by Ronan Starflare on Oct 31, 2013 8:40:28 GMT -8
He nodded at Veren before taking heavy strides over to the comms station. What he was about to do was something he'd hoped he would have never had to. Something that was useful for an emergency he wish had never come to pass. Reluctantly, he reached down into his pocket and removed his comlink before plugging it into the onboard holocomm. The keys lit beneath his fingers as his frequencies were imported into the ships computers.
Scrolling all the way down to the frequencies of highest importance, he keyed for two of them, and opened comm.
"This is Admiral Ronan Starflare, broadcasting on an open channel to both Dragon Squadron and the remaining forces of the Jedi Peacekeeping Taskforce. I am declaring 'Beacon Drop'. This is a level one directive. Please respond. Repeating..."
He slumped into the seat at the station, and buried his head in his palms. It was difficult for him. Not asking for help, but realizing that situation was so dire that it called for him to ask for help.
It was surreal feeling, really. For the longest time, war had avoided the Jungle Moon that he called his home. Not since a bout with the Corruption had it been under direct attack. And even then, it was nothing they could not have handled. But this was different. This was ordinary attack. No, this was a holding operation, a quarantine of sorts.
No way in. No way out. The bucketheads would starve them out, or wear them out, or kill them entirely. A true Jedi, a Jedi of old may have let such a grievance go: yes, kill us but leave the remainder of the galaxy alone. We're what you want, just leave the rest be. That would be a true Jedi's response. Stoic, sacrificial. Ever aware that even if they were all die that the Mandalorians may not stop with them, but dying anyway to give the rest of the galaxy a chance.
He was not that kind of Jedi. He never could be. He didn't want to be. He held compassion for his fellows. He longed to see them next to him again, to fight alongside them once more. And if they were all to die, then they would go together. Like the family they truly were. No, he was a different kind of Jedi than that. They all were, now. They weren't so passive anymore.
And they sure hell weren't going to go down without a fight.
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Dav Man'Sell
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Post by Dav Man'Sell on Oct 31, 2013 18:46:08 GMT -8
It was twenty minutes before the first reply made it back to The Starblazer, a secured package message, encrypted using standard Jedi Peacekeeping Taskforce encryption protocols, probably already cracked by the Mandalorians. It was a disappointing start; A small supply ship in the Gordian Reach, used for little more than running provisions between larger ships over short distances. Crew of three, class four hyperdrive, and enough fire power to cook a nerf steak and not much more. Although ready and willing to give aid, the ship was less than able, and would last no time at all in combat.
The second response was far more promising. A higher level encryption protocol was attached to the message, a creative one that would require the Jedi Master to personally, and manually, decrypt part of the access key, as it required very specific knowledge of the Peacekeeping Taskforce protocols. Such a message could only be transmitted by a Line Captain or higher.
In this case, it was higher.
The familiar, if weary looking, form of Commodore Ptrelli Stargazer materialised before Ronan. Behind him, not the familiar comm station of the Mraz, nor the standard bridge of the Imperial Class Star Destroyer - a shrewd eye might recognise the bridge from one of the New Class line of capital ships; specifically, a Nebula Class Star Destroyer. After a moment, the Commodore's chin lifted, and he spoke.
=Commodore Ptrelli Stargazer=
::Admiral Starflare. Welcome back to the fold. The situation is this; I'm currently stationed on the outer edges of the Felucia system with what ships we have. We lost a lot of our line ships, including the Brilliant Guardian, the Uptempo, and the Angel. Mraz was out of system at the time of the attack, an aid mission right out in the unknown regions. She's still a little way out, ee-tee-ay at Osarian, a little under thirty six hours. I'm commanding from the Argentine. Strength at current is Argentine, Peregrine, Argonaut, and Hellfire, plus a few lighter frigates and corvettes. The Wild Endeavour is still active, but needs at least three weeks work before she'll be combat ready again. We're a little light on starfighter support, as a lot of the surviving fighters headed down to aid in the defence of the Praxeum. Not exactly at our strongest, but we stand ready to assist you. Awaiting further contact on this frequency. Stargazer out.::
The signal cut off, and a few data files uploaded onto the computer systems with details to match the Commodore's report. Then, the comm line slipped into silence, awaiting further responses.
It was another forty five minutes before the final message came through, text only.
::ADMIRAL RONAN STARFLARE, I AM R8-T2, RESPONDING TO BEACON DROP. I AM CURRENTLY FLIGHT ASSISTING WITHIN THE DRAGON SQUADRON X-WING ASSIGNED TO JEDI PADAWAN ALEXIS KARIDIAN. CURRENT LOCATION: DRESSEL. WE ARE ON MISSION TO LOCATE AND RECOVER JEDI KNIGHT JOSHUA KIERRA-SOLO. THIS ENDEAVOUR MAY BE MET WITH AGGRESSIVE RESISTANCE, AS PADAWAN ALEXIS SEEMS TO HAVE PICKED THIS LOCATION ON A WHIM AND WITH NO REAL TACTICAL PLANNING. SHE ALSO DID NOT INFORM MASTER MAN'SELL AS TO HER INTENDED DESTINATION, WHICH I HAVE INFORMED HER SHE SHOULD HAVE DONE. I HAVE ASSISTED HER IN THIS REGARD TO THE BEST OF MY ABILITIES. THE X-WING IS OPERATING AT 97% EFFICIENCY, AND HAS REMAINING 63% FUEL. CURRENTLY ON STAND-BY, AWAITING PADAWAN ALEXIS' RETURN. WILL AWAIT RESPONSE.::
Further waiting yielded no further responses; any other craft were either out of range, out of Holonet contact, or otherwise engaged.
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Post by Sakri on Nov 17, 2013 19:37:39 GMT -8
Ornix gave the command to ready for a hyperspace jump, but as of yet, no coordinates had been keyed in. All eyes were on Alkor, who had yet to speak. And on his face, there was a dry smirk.
There were others on the bridge now, newcomers that had been late to the party, almost missing the whole thing. Miras and Finna, their names were, if their thoughts were to be believed -- she had probed their minds as soon as they had entered the realm of her perception. They would be useful in the coming days, she was sure of it, as would she. It seemed that they all had their parts to play in whatever scheme the Force had cooked up, and even though she blanched at the thought of following pre-ordained destiny, she would not fail to excel at it.. |
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Finna
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Post by Finna on Nov 27, 2013 21:52:13 GMT -8
All he could think of was a line he had once heard in a holovid. He hadn't been watching it, of course - he had never made time for such things. One of the young Jedi trainees in the Corellian Academy had been watching it nearby during his free time. Right now, those long-forgotten words were all Finna could hear.
Something was wrong. Alkor hadn't yet seen him, and Finna was still huddling in his lone room, waiting for any sort of word and trying to remain calm. What made that difficult was the overwhelming sense of dread that permeated this vessel. They'd both started to feel it as they approached, and of course they'd both tried to be strong and play it off, hoping it would pass. Yet it had only become more potent, and now, sitting alone, it took all of Finna's training to keep his hands from shaking with fear.
What did the future hold? He stammered as he tried to enunciate the Jedi Code.
"Th-there is no emotion, there is peace."
For the first time, those words rang so utterly hollow in Finna's ears. The emotion, the fear, was all around him, he could almost feel it. Where was the peace?
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Atia
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Post by Atia on Apr 23, 2014 0:02:36 GMT -8
-One- "Yes. It is." The ship was ready for launch, all that needed for it to lift was the crew to get to their places, and as soon as that state was reached, the ship lifted. They walked past Nysstes ship in the hangar, up to the crews quarters where Nysste was introduced to the Captains Quarters, now hers.
And soon, they were away. Heading for Balmora.
"One, go make yourself useful and check on the leaders from earlier and give me reports on every action they take, and words they speak that are of importance. If they speak ill or grand of me I want to know. How they do their job should also be recorded for me. If you cannot accomplish this task with efficiency or do it at all, I will be force to scar you with lightning until you do so. Now leave me. I need to meditate and set-up my main supplies." *Nysste walked into her quarters and noticed that some of the Training droids from her ship were placed inside. In a small closet were many similar robes and there was also the rest of her books on the Jedi and Sith. A small dresser filled with holocrons was placed next to her bed and she only frowned at the fact. She could only imagine the possible damage that the movers could have done. She looked at one of the droids and waved her hand at it, activating the machine through the Force. It started up almost immediately and ran straight for Nysste, pulling out a vibroblade attached to its back. Nysste activated one her orange lightsabers and charged the droid head-on. It struck with an overhead swing while Nysste ducked and did a quick mid-section slice from the right. The droid quickly fell in two parts to the ground and Nysste deactivated the blade she held, putting it back on her belt. She force pushed the droids remains against a spare wall and walked casually to her bed. Sitting on her bed, Nysste quietly waited for the arrival to Balmorra.* -One- "Yes Nysste." The couple of days of travel went well. One simply asked the gamorrean commander what he thought of their sith leader, did the same with the ship captain. The mercenaries were harder. She had to separate the mercenary captains closest leftenant on his way back to his quarters from the diner. She seduced him, planted both a kiss on his face, and a bug on his belt. She had a dossier on this outfit, and knew that the captain liked to drink with his leftenants. Her efforts were fruitful.
Somewhat to the end of the jurney One asked Nysste to come to the hangar where she will be able to see what she ordered. Her new troops showing what they can do. One had aranged a seating for her mistress, a piedestal littered with large to small pillows where Nysste could place herself above her subjects however she likes. To her right, a group of Gamorreans were standing in disciplined lines, to her left, a group of mercenaries held themselves in a laid back group standing, sitting, leaning against walls, chatting. One sat by her mistress, by the foot of her piedestal, on her knees. She snapped a finger for the gammoreans and then for the mercenaries. Two from each group emerged and started to fight.
The mercenaries brought out two unarmed soldiers who started to fight. Both had some kind of martial arts training and they used it, a lot of grabbing and striking at vital areas, after a minute or so one of them grabbed the other by the head, shrugging off two punches and threw his leggs around the enemies waist, throwing him to the ground and started to punch his head untill he gave up. The gammoreans fought more fiercely, since they wore armour. Fiercley sure, but without finesse. Just pure power. They hammered at eachothers shields with maces, trying to get an opening. It was rather dull to watch but it gave an idea of what they could do on enemies without shields and the strenght to stop heavy blows. Finally, one of the gammoreans got in a hit on the others knee and the fight was finnished there. The pigman fell to the floor and was beaten unconcious. A great roar came from the victor. All the while the fights were on, One spoke to Nysste.-One- "The captain is a kissass, As most imperial captains with ok skills and no future as admiral. He is a good man, loyal and can handle combat situations. THe Gammoreans are what we made them to. Blunt instruments. Tools. Expensive and precious resources, and they think that way. The merceneries.... well..." She clapped her hands and everyone got silent for a moment. One from each group stepped forward. The merceneries sent Mr Frazz of all people, armed with a net and a large combat knife. They started to circle eachother for a moment and then the Gammorean charged forward, trying to splatter the mec commander with his shield. Frazz jumped out of the way, leaving the net for the gammorean to run onto and then pulled, falling the large humanoid. The pigman rolled and got to his feet, making the mercenary curse. One crawled closer to her mistress so she could whisper.-One- "Mr Frazz boasted to his friends one drunk night that he would have your ass before we get to Balmorra. Then he listed all the nasty things he intends to do with you. His words. Question is, do you want him to? I dont usually like to ruin someone else's fun." She had a mischievous smile on her face and tone.
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Nysste
Member
I am ready to spill some blood
Posts: 50 
Affiliation: The Galactic Empire, Sith Legacies
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Nysste on Apr 23, 2014 11:21:30 GMT -8
*The few days passed with Nysste in deep meditation and focus for most of those hours. The rest accounted for light battle with her remaining training droid, the reading of Jedi and Sith cultures, going over ancient holocrons stolen from the Jedi by Nysste's family and walking around the ship to keep an eye on everyone and everything. She didn't need One to check on the common man. When time came for Nysste to observe both battle groups, the mercenaries led by Frazz and the Gamorrean outfit led by Lizard Face. The combat shown by each group was intriguing and she was rather interested in how the mercs would handle long range targets when using blaster equipment. The Gamorreans were self-explanatory, with their heavy hits and strong shield arms. She leaned in to hear One speak as she was sat down with both her arms on the rests. She expected something like what One explained to come from Frazz. Something she could take advantage of, but yet prove her ability in battle all the same. Frazz's resourcefulness was well noticeable, but it seemed as he did so for personal gain. With these thoughts, Nysste stood up and took a few steps forward, beginning to call out the merc leader.*
"Mr. Frazz! I hear you are interested in a particular asset I carry. Let us wager on it then. If you can beat me in one-on-one combat, you may have your... 'desires'. But if you lose, you are at my liberty and you and your crew will serve me longer than whatever terms you currently have, with no rise in pay. "
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Atia
Member
Posts: 1,232
Affiliation: Nightsisters of Dathomir
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Post by Atia on Apr 23, 2014 15:49:08 GMT -8
Frazz was about to become minced meat under the gammoreans mace as Nysste called out his name. He gracefully danced out of the way, and the Gammorean backed off as Lizard Face grunted behind him. Frazz wore a red undershirt, his usual tactical pants, combat boots and a sleazy smile. His arms were open, the large knifes tip making slow circles in the air. As nysstes proposition was sounded, several mercenaries cried out curses. They didnt like being sold for a fools needs.
-Mr Frazz-
"I am liking this, liking this... Her Lordship wanting a peace of little old Frazz. I am humbled!"
He bowed.
-Mr Frazz-
"But I have to respectfully decline. I would never hurt a true beauty like yourself, not to mention my commander. I am a... Soldier of love, not war. Would go against every inch of my beliefs."
The mercs seemed to settle back a little, but you could cut the tension with a knife. Thats when the twilek slave spoke up from behind, the mischievious smile still on her face. As if she knew something none else did in this hangar.
-One-
"May I suggest Suggest a champion in your place, Lord Nysste? It would hardly be a fair fight letting a mare mercenary fight a Sith Lord."
The hangar went dead silent.
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Nysste
Member
I am ready to spill some blood
Posts: 50
Affiliation: The Galactic Empire, Sith Legacies
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Nysste on Apr 27, 2014 11:24:35 GMT -8
*Nysste crossed her arms and sighed. She was hoping for a good fight, but considering her power in the Force.... Frazz would be obliterated and crippled by her use of Force Lightning. But One's idea was even greater. To choose a person she could assume was capable of beating Frazz. She began to laugh out loud and then suddenly stopped as, without even looking, pointed at One.*
"If I must pick someone, It might as well be you Twi'lek. Your loyalty and your skill in aiding me has already been tested, but I have never heard you once mention your prowess in battle. You will face Mr. Frazz, and if you need a weapon, I can always spare one of my lightsabers. And don't tell me they haven't trained you in combat. Being recognized as #1 must mean something more than loyalty."
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