The Taking of StarForge Station

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Luciana Endivain
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Location: StarForge, Nkllon, Corellian System.
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The Taking of StarForge Station

Post by Luciana Endivain » 2010-06-06 15:48

((OOC: This is a pseudo-mission open to freelancers and, possibly characters who might be able to get away with helping with this non-government affiliated take over, ie, ISIS, special forces on leave or working undercover. Since the NIF hasn't officially sanctioned this mission, it's in the lounge. If you wish to participate, please PM me with your character and plausible reason why they could get involved without this affecting the NIF.))

Background: StarForge Station is a shadow port located in the Mid-Rim which was built on a planetoid. It has remained neutral over the years, becoming a haven for all sorts of nefarious individuals. It houses a small shipyard and repair facility as well as 10,000 individuals and numerous facilities ranging from taverns and dives to weapons and armor shops to research and construction facilities to build all manner of things.

Though the station has been a neutral party, during the decline of the Imperial Remnant, the Imperial Navy has used the place to repair their ships on occasion though not without cost. The NIF has mostly ignored this station, adopting the same philosophy as the Old Republic and the CIS in the sense that, despite existing and not taking sides, to commit resources to claim it would take away from resources needed elsewhere, despite several peace treaties with the NR in the NIF's history.

With the NIF on the rise, Red Jack and Luciana Endivain have set their sights on the take over of this station for use as a base knowing that, to try and be more subtle with taking the station over would take years to accomplish. A straightforward invasion force has been dispatched with the aim being the complete take over of StarForge Station.

Objectives:
- Secure the space around StarForge.
- Disable StarForge's hyperdrives. This will ensure StarForge can't jump to lightspeed and gain reinforcements prematurely.
- Establish a landing zone. In order to do this the shields will need to be down either through pounding away at the station or through sabotage.
- Locate the administrators and the members of the council of tenants. Their capture is important.

- Minimize civilian causalities. While, as pirates and freelancers, we don't have the same concerns as a full fledged government, ensuring the deaths of civilians who make a humble living aboard the station will make the transition to power go much more smoothly and faster.

Enemy Resources:
1 StarForge Station (this includes all manner of weapons from quad-lasers to capital grade turbolasers and ion canons as well as a powerful shield generator.)
~ 10 corvette-class ships
5 squadrons of Skipray Blastboats
10 squadrons of Y-Wings
10 squadrons of Z-95 Headhunters
~900 security personnel

As well, during the attack, the administrator of StarForge might declare a state of emergency and offer a sizable bounty to anyone there with a ship to help repel the attack so there might be all manner of other ships attacking the fleet. On the same token, those same people might also be on the station on foot helping to repel the invasion so the number of security personnel is likely to be higher than noted. Expect a wide range of weapons and ships.
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"Freedom, at any cost, is worth it so long as it's the New Republic that pays the price!" - Luciana

Kyp Baker
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Re: The Taking of StarForge Station

Post by Kyp Baker » 2010-06-12 01:20

On board the Observer...

"Remember, Kyp, take it easy. Rigs like this aren't meant to be flown hard."

"Relax, Olen." Kyp said, running his hand over his ship's fresh coat of forest green paint. "What's the worst that could happen?"

The pencil-thin ISIS technician sighed. "Oh, I don't know. It could malfunction and you'd be blown out of the sky. Or even better, it could explode."

"I thought it was suppos..."

"I mean the whole damn ship! The goal is to fake battle damage not get you killed. The Director would have my head if I got you killed."

Kyp shoved a finger into the man's chest. "And I'll have your head if my ship doesn't make it back in one piece. If I die, then I'll make sure to haunt you."

Olen let out an uneasy laugh as Kyp made his way up the ramp of his ship. Kyp shot the man a warning look. "Seriously, Olen. I'll haunt you. It's a real thing."

En Route to StarForge Station...

The trip to StarForge station was long, so Kyp kept himself occupied by placing the finishing touches on his cover identity. He was playing the part of a Corellian smuggler named Derrick Shale, captain of the YT-1760 class freighter Corellian Sun. He was a gun runner for whoever paid the most and he only worked alone. His normally long brown hair was gone, shaved to almost nothing. His face was covered in stubble and his smiling blue eyes had been replaced with deep green lenses, the same color as his ship.

The clothes clinging to his skin were different, but not unfamiliar. They were the clothes of a common Corellian spacer, much like the ones he had worn as a freighter pilot in his youth. White shirt, brown pants, and a brown nerf leather jacket were rounded out with worn boots and a belt and holster containing a BlasTech DL-18 pistol. Kyp also had his new lightsabre hidden away inside his jacket, but planned on using it only as a last resort.The ship he was flying was his trusty Dark Horizon, but the transponder signal had been changed to Corellian Sun by the ISIS.

Of course the ISIS would get involved, Kyp thought as he readied for the drop out of hyperspace. The Director's own sister is spearheading this mission. Luciana...

The navcomputer beeped a warning and Kyp felt a lurch in his stomach as his freighter dropped out of hyperspace. Kyp immediately swung the ship sixty degrees to port and entered the nearby nebula. After what seemed like a lifetime of navigating through the colorful gases, the freighter emerged into what could only be described as a clearing. Floating before him was a cobbled together space station sitting on top of a lifeless rock. StarForge.

Kyp hit a button which initiated the first phase of the mock damage. Paint burned away, some plating broke off, and sparks started shooting out of the starboard engine. A stern female voice broke in over the comm. "Light Freighter Corellian Sun, this is StarForge Control. Identify yourself and state your purpose."

"Control, this is Captain Derrick Shale. I'm damaged and am in need of a dock for repairs. I ran into some Imperial trouble, but managed to get away. Barely."

"Were you followed?"

"No. Those Imperials couldn't track a Hutt through an empty room. I made five different jumps and navigated my way through a nebula. It about ripped my ship apart, but they definitely didn't follow me."

"Very well. How long will you be staying?"

"Should only take a day. The damage isn't too ba..." Kyp pressed another button which activated the second stage of damage. An explosion rocked the ship. "Onnnn second thought, make that two. The hyperdrive coolant line just went."

"You can proceed to docking bay E27. Repair crews will meet you..."

"Don't bother. I'll fix it myself. Nobody lays a finger on this ship."

A heavy sigh hissed over the comm. "Whatever you want. A representative will meet you to collect payment. You do have credits, don't you?"

"Of course I do, honey." Kyp said flashing a grin he knew she couldn't see. "How about I treat you to dinner tonight. I can show you just how many I have."

"You and every other smuggler and pirate on this rock. Have a nice day, sir."

Kyp laughed as he switched off the comm and then brought the ship down into Docking Bay E27. He could see the representative, a Twi'lek holding a datapad, out of the viewport as he brought the ship down. He turned to his R2 unit, which was hardwired into the ship's computer. "Tweeter, activate security protocol Omega. Nobody is to even touch this ship. I'll be back in a few hours. Keep the ship ready for a quick exit. Hopefully, we won't need it."

Kyp brushed off his jacket, checked his weapons, and put on a smug grin. He adopted his best Corellian swagger and made his way to the entry ramp. I hope they buy this. He thought as the ramp descended.
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Diri Tiberia
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Re: The Taking of StarForge Station

Post by Diri Tiberia » 2010-06-13 01:47

It had been a long, whirlwind month for the Zeltron and Squeeks who had been aboard StarForge Station. It was refreshing working with proper villains again, people she knew and felt she could trust, in so far that she knew enough about them that they would have to kill her if they decided to withhold payment. She could remember when she was contacted and given the job offer to get aboard StarForge and help shut down a few vital systems. It seemed like a joke at the time, but the expression on Lucie and Red Jack's faces told her otherwise. The pay was going to be generous, so that's all she needed to hear and she was plotting a course that very day.

Getting aboard the station was easy, being neutral was her hallmark. Once aboard, getting an extended stay pass was even easier, just had to find the right person and their quarters. I had almost forgotten how comfy real beds are! Waking up, Diri saw that Vince, the owner of the suite, had left for the day, no doubt to meet with the other council members for their weekly meeting with the head administrator. Unfortunately, getting a pass into one of those meetings wasn't going to happen, at least, not from Vince's end, she'd probably have to force someone's hand but she still had a day before the planned attack.

Swinging her legs over the bed, she gripped the soft silk covers, knowing she wasn't going to be experiencing this for some time yet. Cabin fever, as the humans called it, was when a person got fed up with being confined to the same indoor location for too long. Diri wasn't about to say she was fed up, but she did long to get back aboard her beloved ship, the Megaera and travel the stars again. All in due time, she reassured herself as she stood up and walked towards the refresher to take a sonic shower and get ready to start the day.

A good half-hour later, Diri was roaming the halls again, wearing a bright green skirt and a yellow blouse, her blaster at her hip and a bag slung over her shoulder. Squeeks met up with her as she walked, chirpping a cheerful good morning. "Good morning! How are you today?" A series of whistles and buzzes didn't reveal much, but an extended datachip contained a few useful tidbits of information. Diri inserted it into a datapad she carried and looked over the contents. "My my my, haven't we been a busy bee?" she glanced again at her faithful, if reluctant, companion and winked. "This will be good indeed."

Squeeks had spent the better part of its time infiltrating the various passages and rooms of the station, few ever bothered to stop the many droids that wandered the station, especially if it had the proper access codes and Squeeks, with his white body, red trim and head looked like a few of the other droids on station so no one paid it any mind. He had finally worked his way to one of the maintenance shafts that housed conduits to feed power to the weapon systems that overlooked the immense docking hangers of StarForge. He had also gotten himself closer to the hyperdrive room, unfortunately, only certain droids were allowed back there and, short of forcefully hacking another R-unit and blowing his cover, Squeeks wasn't going to be getting into the hyperdrive room.

He chirped a question.

Diri smiled, looking all too pleased with herself. "You know me, I'll find something to do."

He made an unpleasant noise that sounded like he was trying to scold her.

"Hey, don't you worry about me. We've made it this far haven't we? I'm going to check and see the new arrivals, I'm expecting a delivery this morning. You take care!" She picked up the pace and, when she had gotten two steps ahead of the droid, she bent down, turned around and blew him a kiss before straightening herself up and continuing down the corridor to the hanger and docking bay.

Reaching the bay, she saw a large, beat up freighter with the name Just In Time fading on its bow. Reaching the ship, she crossed the wide expanse, keeping to the marked lanes as to not get run over by all the traffic coming and leaving the station. This was one of the best shadowports in the galaxy, only because it was mobile and possessed its own factories and shipyards, given enough resources and time, people claimed it could build a Death Star, which seemed like a stupid idea to her.

As she approached the ship, droids unloading cargo busily moved around between the hold and deck while a scruffy looking man in a dusty cap monitored the goods being offloaded. "Ahoy!" Diri called, using that greeting only because of the stereotypical cap he wore. "You got a package for Diri?"

"That you?" he looked over, raising one eyebrow, clearly never having seen Zeltrons before in his life, despite being well traveled. Seeing her nod, he gestured into the hold and grunted. "Yeah, I got somethin' for ya. One sec... HEY, THIRTEEN!!! GRAB PACKAGE..." he paused only to double-check the manifest, "TEN-FIVE-DASH-FOUR!"

A low pitched confirmation beep sounded. From the hold, Diri could hear a lot of noise of activity, most of it sounding quite heavy. Her expression changed to one of slight bafflement as she didn't recall ordering anything nearly that big. A minute later, a large cargo lifting droid appeared, on his extended pallet arms a small box no larger than a shoebox. The Captain handed her a datapad, saying, "Sign here please."

Diri smiled and signed off on the delivery, picking up her package and turning away, waving cheerfully at the Captain one last time. "Buh-bye!" He didn't make any indication that he heard her, but, after she turned around again, she could feel his curious eyes on her backside as she strutted away, the happiness of her arrived package adding a little bounce to her step.

Getting out of the hanger, she opened the box a hair to peer inside and admired the pretty present, a large roll of D-Tape which she had ordered. Closing the box again, she made tracks for the nearest public refresher to hide the D-Tape in the bag she carried with her, the box was a little too big and awkward.
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Crystala Endivain
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Re: The Taking of StarForge Station

Post by Crystala Endivain » 2010-06-14 05:24

Crystala leaned back in her chair, looking at the individuals assembled before her. She didn't like the idea of sending people from the army into this situation, however, a recent operation had called a considerable amount of resources away so she had little other choice than to ask the Surface Marshal to spare four individuals skilled in the art of stealth, infiltration and otherwise getting closer to a particular group of freelancers than anyone else might be able to.

Excepting High Admiral McFini, Crystala mused, knowing his frequent conversations with the influential pirate Red Jack. If that didn't scream her involvement if she were to try and use him, then Red Jack's skills were getting much worse with age. That, or he's got something worse planned... Either way, I doubt the Emperor would approve.

It wasn't that she didn't trust her sister to take StarForge Station, it was more her motives and what she and Red Jack were planning afterward that concerned her most. She didn't expect Luciana to simply tell her and it was doubtful that anyone knew Red Jack's true motives but StarForge was a very useful shadowport and possessed incredible resources, all tucked away deep within NIF territory.

Before her stood four of the most unassuming people the Federation had to offer. First off was Sergeant Spyker Katarn, someone who had a past working independently. He was probably the best chance Crystala had to get some real useful information. Next up was Private Kenneth Solusar, a pretty-boy who was a real charmer with the ladies, so much so that no one would suspect he actually had a military record. PFC Cado Salis was a former smuggler turned redeemed army scout, his knowledge of getting cargo around on the surface of planets a considerable skill. PFC Kenneth Solusar had done some freelance computer work before enlisting, more out of necessity as he had gotten in trouble with the law more often than not and what better place to hide than in the army?

It suited Crystala just fine, he was a good up and coming soldier and, right now, the Surface Marshal needed everyone she could get so to try and persecute him would only mean the ISIS would have to crack down on hundreds of other people. The NIF was willing to turn a blind eye in most instances so long as the people in question didn't do anything to actually harm anyone or anything.

Lastly Lance Corporal Robert One-shot showed a promising career with the special forces and he had managed to save his squad from a recent disaster of a mission by hiding out in what was later revealed in the debrief as a safehouse he had acquired in a bet with a certain smuggler.

It was probably the most rag-tag group Crystala could have standing before her, but, if they got results, she was more than happy. "Gentlemen," she began, putting her hands together, palms touching as she raised them before her face. "I've assembled you here because a possible threat to Federation security and integrity exists. Within the next day or so, a pirate group, loosely affiliated with the NIF is going to launch an attack against the shadowport, StarForge Station.

"The NIF isn't going to publicly support the attack, nor are we going to deny that the pirates invading it are frequently in our employ but it will prove to be useful to the group should they succeed." She got to her feet, lowering her hands again as she got a sense of the mindset of those before her. They seemed indifferent, maybe a little excited to get some action.

Robert was first to speak, his usual swagger evident in his posture. "So, what, you want us to make sure they succeed?"

Though Crystala smiled a little, her eyes started to shift to a more reddish colour. "I've little doubt they'll succeed in their operation but, in short, yes. I want you all to make sure your contributions are sufficient enough to get you noticed by the two individuals heading up the attack."

A holo on her desk flickered to life without any gesture or motion. Two heads appeared. One was that of a human male with long black hair tied into a pony-tail with a red ribbon. A large scar on the upper left half of his face gave way to a noticeably cybernetic left eye. The other figure was that of a human woman, with light skin, long brown hair and, perhaps most striking, a resemblance to the Director-General briefing the group.

"The man is Red Jack, a pirate who prides himself as something of an information broker. Only the ISIS knows more than he does though I'm sure he would argue it's information not worth knowing." A rare show of humor was lost on the group, but Crystala didn't care, the point was made. "He has a small fleet and his pirates are highly trained and skilled.

"The woman is Luciana Endivain..." she paused as several eyes shifted from the holo to look at Crystala. "Yes, there is a relation, she's my sister." That silenced the questions before they were asked. "She's runs her own, recently formed, private military firm, the Silver Infinity Network, which takes on various jobs for independent contractors and the NIF. She struck an alliance with Red Jack to combine their resources to take the station.

"The reason I want you to help them in their take over of StarForge is two-fold. One, with known allies to the NIF running the show there, we will have a much more reliable source of intel once taken. Secondly, it will get the four of you known to the two individuals in question." Crystala smirked. "The goal here is to work you closer to the two groups so that, next time they need something done and are short a few hands, they'll remember you and your contributions at StarForge. Building up their trust, you'll get closer to their inner circles where we can keep a better eye on their activities."

If nothing else, it'll give me a better idea how closely guarded their operations are.

Crystala walked around her desk and leaned on the side, folding her arms across her chest. "Any questions?"
"Dagger of the ISIS? No, I am the hand that wields it!" - Director-General Endivain
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Moira Drakengard
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Re: The Taking of StarForge Station

Post by Moira Drakengard » 2010-06-15 23:58

Two days ago…
A woman in white robes slowly entered the public terminal of the shadowport’s loading docks, she had come here on a private freighter after receiving a communiqué containing a list of names… and identification.

The sender was unremarked about, but the symbol of three daggers wasn’t unknown to her. The message’s encryption also confirmed it, and her job here. This was why she had left her fellows to come here. She viewed the orders again, sighing at the rules of engagement: Kill/ Or Capture for intel purposes, extract if possible.

She sighed, Penance is what she assumed this to be. .. penance for her own place in attacking the Federation. No credits even asked for, nor offered.

Fine by her- she was willing to repay the dead she had taken with the spilled gallons of blood of these murderers on this list if she had too. Hell, she’d even do the job for free if their listed crimes were close to being anywhere near accurate. ..
***
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2BN4OY8o ... re=related)

Present time…

Manson walked past the bars of Starforge Station, ruminating that as much as he might remember: the asteroid city hadn't really changed much. It was still the rotting cesspool of deviant prurience it always had been. A place where the downtrodden, the desperate, and those willing to make a credit- lived on the outermost edge of galactic society.

That’s why he always hung about these parts over the years, steadily growing his influence with a local group of pirates, that were known as the Handeshian Club. Just the drop of his name was enough to garner an audience with a few of the worst scum around these parts. He’d even taken a few ‘off the books jobs from those people after leaving CorSec. Doing their dirty work as he enjoyed the times they let him terrorize the local populace. That family they had him kill knew what he meant, he could still smell their fear. That’s why he liked it here- the smell of scum came easily to him.


If one inhaled deep enough you could practically smell the odor of the spice and smuggled goods which exchanged hands here on a daily basis almost as much as credits did for other services. Services which had drawn him and his newest acclamation here today. A VT-49 Decimator which he had named the Hell’s Fury, why did he come to this moon with such a valuable , if old, piece of hardware one might ask? That was simple: upgrades and to have its transponder code system replaced with as many dummy registrations as his credits could buy.


And he had found out he had quite a bit of credits... more than he really knew he possessed.


You see, after retiring from republic service within CorSec upon the planet of Corellia, a factor of his family from his uncle’s illustrious shipping business had contacted him to say they were in stewardship over an account that had been opened in his Uncle’s name on Muunnilist over forty five years ago... before the Clone Wars.


That had been a huge amount of time for interest to accrue and his general worth was currently beyond a few million personal credits .... if he bothered to actually go back and sort out things with his family’s will – starting with ending the life of an older sibling or two. After a lengthy discusion with the current Legal Executor a minute sum of close to three quarters of a million credits was released to him in a slush account after he promised to appear back on his homeworld within a span of one to two years time. While he had been perplexed at the offer he consented after asking a simple question: what was the reason for the current generation of the family to benefit from the fortune to even remotely accept him for this?

The answer hadn't been quite as forthcoming as he expected, just the old Grandmother saying that a few people were interested in old stories of his past. Stories which Manson for the life of him could not remember: He figured it was probably some NIF halfwit looking for things he had worked on with the NRI . The low key credit dispensation which had been authorized on a bit of whimsical fancy on her part as a token of his ‘family’ was probably just a gimmick to draw him out.

But credits were credits, and they were hard to come by- even if they required cowtowing to past skin cloth skeleton’s wishes. Even with the added risk, and the first job his family's “old matron” had for him was a rather simple one: while on Nar Shadaa attempt to find someone if possible. An old hutt by the name of Graya Bran Desiljicc who said he had information vital to the family's business practices.

Information he could use to later dispose of other claimant's for the inheritance.

It was rather perplexing to Manson... but he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. The very first thing he was going to do after his soujourn to get his ship upgrades... would be to hit the streets and start finding out information. It had always been said Graya had an eye for cute females who might be able to dance for him... if he found any that might be persuaded he'd pay to bring them along.

Who knew... if they were nice enough he might even settle some other accounts to deal with his time here upon this blasted rock. So this was how he found himself wandering down a crowded street past a few bars that seemed to serve the roughest local swill imaginable. Spying a random one... he decided to enter and place an order at the bar for a bottle of whyren's reserve. A sum of a thousand credits exchanged hands with the bartender as he looked around for a pretty face with a female form he might persuade to dance for him. All the better to get him his next gig after blowing it on upgrades.


Hell, if they were good enough at distracting the Hutt he was here to meet for a long enough time to do some actual business- he might even pay them double to keep them on retainer for the few days he was here. And not even he might know where such charming company might lead...

Maybe the back alleyways… he still had an itch in his knife he wanted to get out. That’s what made him leave Corsec in early retirement- doing things that no other agent wished to do. Torture, mutilation, even once had gotten a hold of an NIF ambassador. That one in particular had been fun…
***
She had found her first target just a little after his ship arrived into the docks and proceeded to follow him into what appeared to be a bar, before taking up a position close to the door. It wasn’t the most horrible place to be – but all the clientele closest to her were looking at her inquisitively.

She’d have to wait to plan her approach…

That was when some young punk, came up to her.. He had pale blue eyes. His face was pale as well. Blonde hair. Messy. He had stubbles from where he hadn’t shaved. He was young. Not old. And he had the audacity reach up and pull her hood back from her head.

“Hey baby, you selling anything under those robes today?”

‘Uh Oh, Not good.’ By the force she might as well kill him for this inconvenience… but – the mark was slowly wandering this way…

She flashed this rather unwanted suitor a pearl white smile, as the nineteen year old woman put an angry pout on her face before teasingly saying, “Now what ever would make you assume that, boy? And what makes you think you’d be enough of a man to handle it, anyways?”

The cat calls and inuendoes only got worse as aome of the local color laughed at this reply, as the scene started to draw a small crowd around her. A male sychophant to her right seemed to spread a bunch of credit sticks all in order to ask if she had a room...


‘Damn it! She wanted to kill them all. Where the hell was the target!???’
***
Inside the bar there was a small dance floor, simply smoldering with the heat of bodies that converged upon it with a bunch of dancing, trance like movers and shakers looking oddly similar to flocks of birds coming home to roost at some water hole in the plains amidst a blue felt aqua colored sky. Manson could smell the sweat of bodies grinding to the music.

"Hmm..." He pondered a little, his gaze sweeping amongst the crowd as patterns of lights flashed all around him.

Over the din of the music he slid through the crowd, at once merging amongst the ravers who delicately swayed back and forth in time to the music as his senses seemed to see and hear everything at once. A droplet of sweat falling from the browline of the blonde to his left as she let herself go to the music, the clinking of ice in the glass to his right as a man called for more drinks to get a redheaded spacer chick a little off her game. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the slight tilting of a female zeltran looking at him over with a friendly smile as a bunch of males paid court to her. Speaking sweet nothings in her ear before she playfully slapped the suitor on the shoulder as Regulus walked by...

He was looking for a dancer... and not some of the normal types of broads...and dames, no matter how beautiful they were. No, it was said that Grava's tastes ran to... human-type exotics. Those that weren't normally seeming to fit the schema of humanity, yet still very attractive specimens of any sort of race that would fit the bill of being similar, yet distinctly... unique.

All of them were beautiful- gems of a universe. .. But not what he was looking for.
Such a find was difficult; like looking for a needle in a haystack, but here he was, searching. Searching for just the right one who was ... special

He glided through the crowd, his vital signs, slightly ... different from a normal human's, if one could see his chest cavity they would see the heat of his body, slightly lower than the rest... calmer and cooler, as his heart seemed to beat a steady drum's tempo that was precise, and measured. Even his dormant predatory instincts were starting to spark within him from the effects of the sensory rush which came from the ambient atmosphere of the place. He was a far cry away from the normal flush of ugly that ran through this moon's cityscape and he knew it. Almost... in some instances... purer to the senses.

He was searching high and low, when his attention was inexplicable drawn to a small group coupling in a circle about a single female around the bar caught his eye, it seemed like someone was attracting some attention. And not all of it was the right kind...

Manson saw another man sitting at a table who was speaking to her first try to get her attention again as some rough and rugged looking "tough' from the local seemed irritated that the other man was going to get back what he deemed an easy score. He couldn't see much of the female through the throng of people about her. But from the briefest glimpses he might espy through the obstructing limbs Manson saw a very attractive young woman… Bright silver eyes, which flashed coquettishly at others with an endearing pearl-white smile nicely complimented by bone-white, gossamer-silk spun hair. With a stranger scent than he could detect even from this distance.

Like the down of a freshly laundered sheets and pillows mixed with a bit of honey and cinnamon. It was even stranger to him that from her posture bits of light colored tight fitting clothing seemed to be colored in a reflective sheen of all the lights which came about the place. The young women was an angel amidst the darkness of a ravaged and soiled planet… Beautiful did not even come close to describe this visage of strange otherworldly perfection. It was like Manson was seeing a veritable goddess of nature that sought for the first time to walk amidst the sordid ruins of mortal men.

Regulus felt something stir within as he gazed in her direction, feelings out of sorts with his original intent. The man’s heart whispered that it felt an honest, most dangerously undeniable: Attraction. An attraction that was undeniable… as if a chord inside him reached out to pluck the heart strings of another in concert as it gravitated towards his own.

He would have her, his blade was singing for her blood…

He slowly approached, cutting around a waitress who seemed overworked and underappreciated as she brought cool drinks to the nest of lovers littered in the booths around him. He could quite succinctly say the view from the glimpses through the trunks of the surrounding men did not even hold a candle to the He settled into a position next to the one roughneck who seemed about to make a grab for the young woman’s shoulder, a roughneck who was not the man sitting at the table asking if she might possess a room.

The interposing hand of the rough bargoer was swiftly intercepted caught about the wrist as Regulus’ steely gaze looked into the other man’s own. A slight shake of his head no, and a weathered and steely, yet undeniable pleasant gaze reminiscent of stormclouds made the rough quickly take flight back through the crowd. He assumed the altercation had gone completely unnoticed by the young vision of beauty to his right.


Taking the initiative, he tapped the bar for a bartender and asked for several glasses all around to everyone within the little circle of admirers, before he let the distinct expensive venue of the corellian brandy pour into all of them before taking two into his own hands. One for himself, and one procured for the angelic woman.

Regulus offered the first glass to her … no strings attached, as he had the bartender deliver the rest to the crowd around . Including one larger portion to the man still sitting at the table. He serenely smiled towards this wondrous image of some far off god’s creation before he spoke…”Hello . And how are you upon this fine evening?”

He didn’t want any hard feelings here tonight amongst her crowd of suitors, but this prize he would fight for if necessary. For his own plans, and the stirring of something else deep within his soul, Manson knew she was perfect in far too many ways to let slip through his fingers…

’Yes, he’d make her his, and the blade would sing as it cut her…’ "If you might forgive me my forwardness: may I be so bold to ask you, your name?"

The woman in white turned towards him fully and said with a slight surprised smile,probably incredulous that anyone was polite in this atmosphere. Manson saw the girl seem to subconsciously straighten her hair putting it back into her hood before her gaze cooly ,and what he assumed playfully, checked him out… “I’m doing fine thanks , save for this little bastard thinking every girl is a whore. Of course you may be so bold as to ask my name. My name’s, Moira. What’s yours there, handsome?”

‘Oh, yes.’ Manson thought, ‘there was nothing in this world that would make him lose this one… she was far to suitable to fill … all ... his needs.'
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Re: The Taking of StarForge Station

Post by Spyker Katarn » 2010-06-17 05:26

"Any questions?" The query from the Director-General of the Imperial Security and Intelligence Service was laden with secondary meanings. Sure, Spyker could get her to clarify the orders, but he had no doubt she'd glare at him with those eyes of hers. His years of observational experience noted many things about her: her stance, her movement, her carefully crafted speech, but most strikingly the shifting eye color. He briefly wondered what fighting her in battle would be like, but quickly quashed that notion. Everything about the Director revealed training, and glimpses of things beyond that. Inwardly, he felt a familiar presence, but it was different as well. He now recognized as an outgrowth of the events on Cinnagar, and the groundshaking reveal at the hands of that infernal terrorist, the Knave. He knew it was not his time to learn about such things yet, but that would be soon. Pushing it out of his head and back into its compartment, Spyker spoke up with a question.

"What will we have for equipment? Will it be supplied or are we doing OSP?" OSP meant on-site procurement; they'd deploy with nothing but sidearms and armor, with everything else gathered in the field. The practice made the mission that much more dangerous, as the team would be lightly armed at the start, but easier to extract as everything could be dumped with no trace back to whoever used the equipment for undoubtedly nefarious purposes. There were drawbacks, however; there was no guarantee that one would find everything necessary to complete the mission properly, and as such there were risks to both. He hoped that ISIS would supply some things, but he mentally prepped for the order of OSP, just in case. Luckily for the team, he didn't need to, not completely anyway.

"We'll give you a small craft to get around on, civilian model, but modified of course. As for weapons, you'll get what you need to start with. Get my assistant a list, and we'll have it ready for your departure. Anything else, you'll need to get in the field. Any more questions?" Spyker could see her scan the room, and found them not wanting for more information. They had what they needed to do their job, and that was to infiltrate, kill, and blow shit up. Nobody did it better than the Federation's Special Warfare Command troops, not even the fabled NRI Operations teams, supposedly drawn from the elite of the NR Defense Force. With nothing more to say, the woman in front of them closed the briefing. "You have your orders. Dismissed."

The four-man team stood up, gathered their datapads, and left the room. Spyker began compiling a list of the equipment they would need for sendoff to ISIS procurement. He went with fairly standard SPECFOR equipment used for this sort of mission: four DC-17m modular carbines with standard attachments, two Sharpshooter-V sniper rifles, explosive charges, varying grenade types, ammunition... the list went on for a while. By the time they had returned to the barracks, the list had been compressed and sent. Armor would not be an issue; SPECWARCOM had suits of old Katarn-class commando armor available for use during these missions. They were used when discretion was necessary, such as now. Spyker would be foregoing the Katarn-class suit, though, in favor of his customary Camoleon suit, which he would preprogram on the way.

He knew it would take some time to gather the equipment, so they were in for a wait. Luckily, the party would be waiting for when they got there. The senior noncom chuckled to himself as he thought about the coming mission. He even dared to think this might be...fun.
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Re: The Taking of StarForge Station

Post by Ryan Korr » 2010-06-17 07:46

Like many mercenaries that were loosely affiliated with the NIF, Ryan had received the contract offer. He had accepted it because he wanted credits and figured that either way this played out it would be profitable for him. And because he really didn't have anything better to do. No recent contract offers of any real value. So no business.

The contract offer was one to.....assist the combined forces of Red Jack and Luciana Endivain in an 'endeavor'. What exactly that was he would find out once he had accepted the invitation and been briefed. Which he was now in the process of doing. The briefing consisted of a highly encrypted and lengthy message. The message now scrawled before Ryan, unencrypted. Being a plain mercenary with a license as a bounty hunter and experience as a smuggler Ryan could be hired out for almost any job. This job was one of the more straightforward he had been contracted to do. His job would be to locate and/or capture the administrators and members of the Council of Tenants at StarForge. Secondary objectives were numerous, ranging from assassinating a leading influential pirate captain, to sabotaging one of the shield generators, but these were all objectives that were not precisely necessary for him. Korr's face betrayed little emotion, but now, there was a flicker in his green eyes of flame and a humorless smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. Well now, this was going to be interesting.

A few moments of preparation later and his YT-1930 was heading through hyperspace towards StarForge's coordinates. Ryan stood up and walked over to his weapon's locker. With money acquired from recent bounties he had been able to....upgrade his array of weapons. He had found a very rare and very expensive Verpine Shatter Gun. The only problem was cost of ammunition, but he had bought several clips of the expensive stuff anyway. As soon as he had gotten it he had modified it heavily. It now featured an attachable high-powered scope as well as an attachable stock and a laser sight. The initial body had been covered in a second body of protective plastoid. Now if he dropped it it would not....shatter.

Also among his new possessions was an ACP repeater gun. Again, modificaitons had been made. New circuitry had been put in so it was less likely to overheat. It was virtually a repeating shotgun. Perfect for most scenarios Ryan encountered. It had no stock and was longer than a regular pistol, more like the size of an E-11.

Those were the only new additions to his arsenal, for now. But he would not be hauling around all this stuff planet...er-Starforge side. He would only be taking his DE-10 blaster pistols and the shattergun, for now. If things got messy, well, he would have to break out the bigger guns. As Ryan strapped the holsters and belt onto his waist, he couldn't help but give a mirthless grin. Simple, straightforward. It was pure mercenary work and for once, Ryan thought he might just fully enjoy this.

The Theron exited hyperspace and began to come in towards the hunk of (literally) junk that was StarForge. Korr made contact with Flight Control and was granted a docking bay. He picked it carefully. Hundreds of mercs came to StarForge everyday, who was to say he was any different? Save that he didn't really care about any time honored tradition of neutrality. Save that for the political maneuvering. This was merc versus merc. Old scores to be settled and new ones to be made. Rules flew out the window. Sure, when dealing with civilized people you acted civilized. But take the fight to the underworld and you had a whole different blaster in your hands.

Once his YT-1930 settled down in its dockingbay, Ryan fitted the stock and scope of the shatter gun, as well as additional ammo clips and the actual shattergun pistol, into the satchel he wore over plain black clothes. A dark-brown, hoodless coat he wore over the dark clothes. The in-plain-sight pistols he wore on his hips would attract no attention. Light body armor was beneath his dark clothes. Overall, he felt light, versatile and free to finally run around without people asking for his gun license every hundred meters. Furthermore, on his belt he had a secure comlink to communicate with his branch of business in this operation. He was ready to go. Ryan lowered the ramp and stepped onto StarForge station.
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Re: The Taking of StarForge Station

Post by Red Jack » 2010-06-17 10:57

"Torpedoes?"

"All squadrons fully loaded."

"Fuel?"

"All fighters are at half-capacity; we don't need the tanks topped off for one battle, and the reduced mass will increase performance...a little."


"Am I forgetting anything?"

"Astromechs. We were short a few; I took the liberty of scrounging up what we needed."


Red Jack nodded. "Alright. You get your flyboys ready, and I'll check in with the army."


Red Jack's image in the screen disappeared, and Teela turned to face the busy hangar floor. Techs ran everywhere, scrambling over fighters to finish last-minute maintenance checks and finish loading equipment. A warning bell chimed, followed by an announcement that all combat pilots were to proceed to the hangar for briefing. Teela took in a breath, then released it, her palms flattened against the front of her thighs. This was an important op to Red Jack; she'd have to make sure not to frak it up.

Red Jack turned away from the comm screen after making sure his pilots were ready to go; next up was the army. Jarid was briefing them two decks down. Red Jack caught a turbolift and walked into the back of the briefing, but didn't announce his presence; he would let Dhanos finish, first.

He was pleased to see a few new faces to one side of the room; these were NIF soldiers whom his sources told him would be willing to work on the side for credits, and would be able to keep their mouths shut. A couple of them he recognized; most he did not.

As Dhanos finished the briefing, Red Jeck walked onto the platform next to him. "I trust you'll all be able to remember your objectives? Remember, each squad leader will be issued a datapad with full installation layouts. I know this is a bigger target than most of you have assaulted before, but it's not that different; tight corridors, determined defenders, and an unfamiliar deck plan: in other words, the same thing you do every day. Stick to the tactics you've practiced and used, they've worked before, and they'll work again. If you run into trouble, call out, and we'll have whatever's holding you back outflanked and overpowered quickly. Don't worry about hurrying; we have more than two minutes for this job, so you can concentrate on performing well and keeping your squad alive; we can take all day for this if we need to. Dhanos will cover any questions you have; launch is in thirty minutes, give or take." Red Jack left the platform to Dhanos; next he needed to check in with the navy, then Luciana, then his intel...the next thirty minutes were going to be very crowded.

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Re: The Taking of StarForge Station

Post by Dravius Stari » 2010-06-19 06:08

Dravius watched Teela put her palms flatten against her thighs and made his way over to the female pilot. Teela was an interesting character. A fiery character with an independence streak that could fill the galaxy three times over. She was an excellent pilot and an attractive one at that, although that was information stored in the matrix for reference purposes only.

Dravius had worked for Red Jack before, and always welcomed the opportunity to work for him when he could. The experience was good, the pay was good and the chance to get an insight into how Red Jack's operation worked was very useful. All in all, it was a positive experience. This operation in question would allow for a decent payment that would help to fill his personal accounts. Dravius was not poor by any stretch of the imagination - but every little bit helped and it was only the top of the rank structure that enjoyed a nice large paycheck each week.

As Dravius reached Teela, he moved in almost complete silence, as any noise the boots of his armour made was drowned out by the frenetic activity in the hangar bay. Dravius spoke when he reached her

"I am ready and awaiting your instructions"
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Re: The Taking of StarForge Station

Post by Luciana Endivain » 2010-06-20 00:35

Several days earlier:

"I hope you won't go shooting everyone indiscriminately..." Crsytala held the datapad in her right hand and extended it to Luciana who was sitting across from her on the other side of the desk.

"I won't, but I can't take responsibility for everyone elses' actions out there, nor am I going to try and single out your people from those I should be shooting at." Luciana accepted the datpad and quickly glossed over its contents. She understood her sister's desire to not lose field agents, but if they were caught in the crossfire, too bad. "Anything else I should be made aware of?" Luciana held the datapad up high and waved it back and forth rapidly.

"Why? You looking for something in particular?"

Luciana shook her head, convinced that Crystala had given her everything she meant to give, nothing more, nothing less. "No, just wanted to make sure you hadn't given me something you weren't meaning to." Her one eye turned yellow as she allowed herself a gloating smile. She got a disapproving look in return. It was easy to sense the apprehension, perhaps because it would cause a measure of uncertainty at the shadowport that the ISIS had no doubt worked so hard to keep a measure of control over and it was a sure thing that, once the attack was over, the new administration would sweep away all vestiges of the old control, and that meant all the old connections. It would be a lot of work for the ISIS to reestablish themselves. "Anything else you wish to tell me?"

Crystala glanced at something just past Luciana, looking as if there was a good number of things she wanted to say, only, not sure which one she wanted to say first. "I don't suppose it'll do me much good but I just wanted to say this," their eyes met. "Be careful."

That's what this is about!?! A burst of laughter escaped Luciana as her sister frowned at the outburst.

"What's so funny?" she asked, hardly amused.

It took several moments to regain herself, the tears of amusement just refused to stop themselves. "I'm touched sis, you're actually concerned about me." It was so hard to believe that, had she not heard that with her own ears, she would have thought it a horrible practical joke. Luciana got to her feet and shook her head, her expression darkening. "I doubt you really meant to say that, but I'll humor you and pretend I appreciate the concern." Before Crystala could respond, she turned in favor of the exit. "And since I don't have the ability to read your thoughts, I won't bother wasting any more of our time trying to get a straight, honest answer out of you."

---

Present Day:

Luciana had reviewed the plans that she and Red Jack collaborated on, the information gained from the ISIS, informants and spies gave them a clear idea what would be happening on StarForge the day of the invasion. She reviewed the schematics of the station, most notably the space defenses. I wish I had more to offer in terms of ship based support.

Having only 4 Raptor transports and 4 StarViper snubfighters meant she was probably contributing the least in terms of the space battle and probably made up, at the very best, a quarter of the total landing force with 160 employed mercs. There was the uncertainty factor at the moment with the involvement of other freelancers and Feds on their days off. Seems everyone wants a cut of the action. All the help they could get was welcomed, neither Red Jack nor her were going to turn anyone down so long as it made their job easier.

She was leaning against the canopy of her newly acquired starfighter, the Nephtis, a StarViper like those she supplied the rest of her private military firm with, only this one was modified to be better than the others. If I'm going to be spending the credits on a fighter, I might as well make it better than the run of the mill. Not having a capital ship of her own just yet, her forces would arrive a few minutes after the main attack force did. The hope was the shields would be down, allowing the raptors to quickly swoop in and spearhead the initial invasion. She would join them after thinning out the enemy fighter screen, but, if she were delayed, she had every confidence in her group to get the job done. Most of them had former military training of some sort but all of them knew how to listen to a briefing.

Straightening herself up, she glanced up from her reading material to watch the crew aboard Red Jack's ship mill about in their frenzy of preparation. A droid who was hovering just above one of the wings of her ship whistled and removed a fuel line before whistling again and flying off to tend to the other snubfighters in the hanger. Luciana looked at the departing droid and took in a deep breath before rummaging through her utility belt for a handful of credits to pay Red Jack for the refueling of her ship. After all, I wouldn't want to be more indebted to him than I already am...
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Kyp Baker
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Re: The Taking of StarForge Station

Post by Kyp Baker » 2010-06-21 23:54

Kyp was greeted with the smell of fuel and recycled air as he made his way down the board ramp and into docking bay E27. A Twi'lek in a business suit flanked by two armed guards were waiting for him at the bottom of the ramp. The Twi'lek looked official, but the guards' mismatched armor betrayed the true nature of StarForge Station. The people were as varied as the junked spacecraft that made up the station and were just as reliable. Everybody had one thing in common: all of them were criminals.

Kyp flashed the greeting party a lopsided grin as he came to a stop in front of them. He gestured to the two guards and said, "This isn't necessary is it? I'm not here to shoot anybody." Kyp held out his hand. "Captain Derrick Shale. Pleased to meet you, Mr..."

"Shunta." The Twi'lek said staring at the hand as if it were made out of refuse. "Kel Shunta. The guards are standard procedure. We just need to confirm personal information and payment. You can confirm you are Derrick Shale, captain of the Corellian Sun?"

"The one and only. And I'll be paying in cash." Kyp pulled out a bag of credits from his pocket and bounced it in his hand.

"Very well." Shunta said as he entered the information in his datapad. Then, he looked up with the beginnings of a nasty grin creeping across his face. "It seems we have a little problem, Captain Shale. According to my records, you are already docked at this station up on C-level."

'Shit.' Kyp thought while trying hold back the look of worry that was threatening to cross his face. "It looks like your records are wrong. I know who I am and I know where my ship is. And it sure as hell ain't on C-level."

"I don't know Captain Shale, but I do know our records are accurate. I have multiple accounts of a ship by the name of Corellian Sun docking here this past year. Our records show that that ship is not a YT-1760 as your ship is. So, if you would please hand over your weapon and come with us, I won't be forced to have you shot. It's always such a hassle to clean up dead bodies."

'I thought this was supposed to be a fake identity. There's no way ISIS could have made a mistake like this. That means that the Council of Tenants has somebody in ISIS on their payroll. Whoever chose my cover identity knew that the real Shale would be here and used me as a way to signal the Council of the attack.'

Kyp raised his left hand and slowly slid his right down to his holster. This caused the guards to point their rifles at Kyp. "Easy boys." he said as he unsnapped the holster and drew his pistol. He pointed the gun grip-first at Shunta. It was quickly snatched away by the left guard who then turned and headed for the exit. The right guard moved behind Kyp and pressed the barrel into his back urging the Corellian forward. The trip to the security center jail was uneventful save for the Zeltros woman they passed on the way. Every man in the hall was eying her except for Kyp because he knew who she was. The two had crossed paths once before and she was not somebody he had hoped to ever see again. But any familiar face was a welcome sight in his current situation. He gave her a mental nudge, which included an image of a hyperdrive exploding, and just caught her eye as she passed. He hooped that she recognized him and that she would be able to contact Red Jack or Luciana. He also hoped that she recognized that there was a good possibility that the Council knew of the attack.

Once at the jail, Kyp was scanned for any hidden weapons and thrown into a cell. The scanner, like most weapon scanners across the galaxy, was unable to pick up his lightsabre due to it being such a rare weapon. Tell cell was a bare dull gray cube with a small cot and a toilet in the corner. It was open faced with a view of the guard's desk and was protected by a force field. Kyp sighed and sat down on the cot and started looking for weak point in the cell. There was an air vent on the ceiling, but it was too small for a human to fit through. There were no windows or bars that could be cut and he had no idea what was on the other side of walls or floor. The only way through was the opening protected by the force field. Kyp needed to get out soon to make sure that the station didn't jump and then he needed to find out who the bastard was that betrayed him.
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Re: The Taking of StarForge Station

Post by Diri Tiberia » 2010-06-24 02:10

"Well I'll be the son of a Sith..." Diri breathed to herself, stopping in her tracks suddenly and watching the man be escorted down the hallway by several guards. She had the oddest sensation just now, like someone had tapped her on the back yet, there was no one actually behind her before the group had passed her. If that wasn't strange enough, she had this bizarre image flash in her mind like a hyperdrive motivator exploding or something though her thoughts were too far from that to even be remotely related.

Then there was the man himself. She didn't know his name, but he did look a wee bit familiar, like they had met once before though she got the feeling the circumstances were... less than amicable.

Another guest to the upcoming party I suppose? Diri watched the guards haul him off, no doubt to the fairly spacious detention facility located deep within StarForge, she had been there once before, accompanying her roommate who needed to extort some information from a particular individual. Their methods of interrogation were brutal, she had seen an Imperial interrogation droid before, scary thing it was, she hoped never to be on the business end of one of those things.

No doubt this man was trying to inform her something about the hyperdrive powering the station. Diri was well enough aware of what needed to be done and, because of the nature of the mission and the people involved, it was hard to know who was doing what and working for whom so finding people to trust were few and far between, at least until the fireworks started. How I miss fireworks... Been a while since I was home...

Diri forcefully snapped herself out of her daze and looked in the other direction, contemplating her goals and priorities now. Something told her she'd regret trying to help that man get his sorry arse out of jail, but she was also well enough aware that, if he could send images to her mind, he had to be one of those Jedi-thingies, kinda like that one she encountered a while ago.

He can probably get himself out of jail... She was about to continue walking when, she thought better of it and turned around, in the direction of the prison. But hey, I'd at least like to catch his name instead of encountering him again and pegging him as "that nameless Jedi".

It didn't sound like a bad nickname at the moment, "that-nameless-Jedi". Had a nice ring to it. As she walked towards the detention section, Vince came running up behind her, his voice calling out.

"Vincy," Diri spun around, all smiles and cheerful demeanor, "How nice of you to come looking for me on your break!"

The expression on Vince's face told her this wasn't a social call, he looked worried. "I need to talk to you," he said softly, as to not draw attention to them, "Now." The urgency in his voice and movements would have arisen worry in Diri but she had already sense it washing off him like a long night in the bar. He lead her to a more secluded hallway, glancing around twice to double-check no one was around before looking at her. "There's going to be an attack against StarForge soon," he muttered, obviously concerned, mostly for his position within the station. "The Feds are plotting an attack against the station in the guise of a pirate takeover."

Diri tilted her head, disbelief written all over her face. "The Feds? They haven't wasted their time enforcing their laws here yet, why would they now?"

Vince shrugged, having no real idea why himself, only able to offer speculation. "Force knows. They just got their new Emperor, maybe they want to snuff out all underworld activities, or force everyone not aligned with them to fly their stinkin' banner. But, regardless, we're going to have to think of a plan soon, the council is going to have an emergency meeting later today as we try and get a grasp of the threat."

"Why all of the sudden?" Diri glanced around, easily pretending to be as nervous as Vince, thankful, yet again for her empathic abilities.

"Because one of the stinkin' Feds tried to get aboard this station under an alias. My contact found him trying to impersonate someone already here." Vince grinned, "I can't wait to see him thrown out the air lock in the next five hours." He laughed, a brief moment of pleasure.

Diri laughed with him, though, beneath the surface, she was concerned. He had a contact and no doubt this person worked for the NIF Intel agency, the ISIS. That, or this person knew people who did, either way, this was putting the whole place on high alert and, if the council agreed to relocate StarForge, the entire operation would be over. "So, Vincy, what would you like me to do? Want me to help show our uninvited guest to the airlock?" She giggled, leaning slightly into him. "Or is there a procedure for that as well?"

Vince laughed again. "First we need to extract all the useful information we can out of him so we know what sort of timeframe we have."

"Ohh, sounds like fun."

"This man is in the brig now, I was just about to visit him and hope to get something out of him. I was hoping you'd come along since I'm going to need you to tell me if he's telling the truth or not."

Diri lit up. "See, I told you! You should have more Zeltrons like me on your staff!"

Vince leaned into Diri, his face close to hers. "I doubt any other Zeltron could be like you in any way."

---

Reaching the brig, Diri followed Vince through the security scanners after leaving her handbag and sidearm in a locker near the entrance. She could see a group of guards assembled by one of the cells, standing behind them was Vince as he studied his captive. Hovering close to the force field separating the group from their captive was a black, spherical interrogation droid, no doubt there as a threat, in hopes of coercing information out of the impostor without actually resorting to using it's instruments of torture.

Vince didn't waste any time as he laid into the man. "Who sent you?" he demanded.

Diri approached, hands behind her back as she glanced briefly into the cell as she listened to his reply of defiance, no doubt wasting time in an effort to stall. She kept her expression focused as if she were searching for the slightest inflection in his voice.

"How about this, you tell me who sent you and how long we have and I'll let you leave this station without further incident."

Diri knew that Vince had no intention of actually letting the impostor go, and, she suspected, the nameless Jedi knew that as well. "Maybe we should just throw him out of the air-lock now," she suggested with a grin, "I mean, what does it matter whether who he works for if we're just going to have to move anyways?"

Vince shot her a look that she knew meant "shut-up". He would have gladly told her a few things, about the administration, about the need to get as much out of him as possible, but the less he revealed in the captive's presence, the better. Turning his attention back to the nameless Jedi, he continued questioning him while Diri looked on in silence, nodding or shaking her head whenever the nameless Jedi provided an answer that wasn't an insult, threat or curse.
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Spyker Katarn
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Re: The Taking of StarForge Station

Post by Spyker Katarn » 2010-07-01 04:09

"...rifles?"

"Check. That's all of it. Now we're just waiting on the Sarge and Salis," said Lance Corporal Robert One-Shot. The other man with him, PFC Kenneth Solusar, nodded at a direction behind the other enlisted man. Turning, One-Shot saluted, then spoke again. "Well, speak of the devil. We just got finished with the inventory, Sarge. You got us some cool shit to play with. Can't wait to use it."

"Glad you enjoy it, Corporal. We'll have plenty of time." Spyker nodded at the two men to have them finish loading the transport, a battered-looking 3-Z light freighter covered in scoring marks. The clever work by the ISIS vehicle technicians concealed a fine ship, one that could both take and give a beating. It would be an excellent cover for their story as a group of unaffiliated mercenaries, and a decent escape vehicle. "Mount up, let's get this show on the road."

The four men clambered on board, with Spyker taking the pilot's chair. Luckily for him, the controls of the 3-Z matched those of the YT-1200, which meant there was little difference from Spyker's familiar YT-2000. LCPL One-Shot took the weapons station, while PVT Solusar took NAV. That left PFC Salis, who took the COMSCAN station; as per ISIS standard, the 3-Z was equipped with a state-of-the-art sensor and communications suite that would allow them to keep in contact with the home base, designated OVERLORD for this mission. Spyker's team was Alpha-One, his callsign Alpha-One-Actual, for ease of identification. It was time to get started.

"Run preflight." Spyker began hitting the toggles in front of him. They ran through the full checklist, and cleared it. The 6 Ps were in full force here, and Spyker wasn't taking any chances, not yet. That would come later, when they reached the station. One hour out in hyperspace, and another hour in a second direction to make it seem like they were coming into the station from somewhere not in the vicinity of First Fleet.

"Tower, Silent Justice requesting permission to depart."

"Justice, you are cleared for departure. Good hunting out there." Spyker radioed in a thank you to the tower, then hit the repulsorlifts. As soon as they cleared the hangar's magcon field, the sublight engines kicked in with a satisfying burst of speed. Within a few minutes, they made the transition to lightspeed, ETA to the station 3 hours.

---

StarForge Station

"Sarge? I'm picking up multiple signals, all across the spectrum. Pirate radio bands. Computer's classifying them now."

"Copy, Salis. Alright, everyone, look sharp. Weapons, how do we look?"

"Guns are hot, waiting on targets."

"Good. Let's keep a low profile for now." Spyker deftly navigated the 3-Z through the maze of space debris, vectoring in towards one of the various hangars dotting the spaceborne facility. The initial approach went well, but Spyker noticed a pair of Z-95 Headhunter starfighters vector off from one of the main patrols and home in on their ship. "Damn. Weps, track."

"Tracking. They make a move, I'll blow them out of the sky."

"Good. Salis, open a channel." Spyker waited half a minute for a COM channel to open to the incoming fighters, then spoke. "Incoming fighters, identify yourselves or we will fire upon you. We carry essential supplies for an injured man of ours and cannot be delayed. Once again, identify yourselves or we will fire. Over."
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Re: The Taking of StarForge Station

Post by Kurge » 2010-07-10 03:49

6 HOURS AGO

Kurge walked into a office, having been contacted and dragged from his regular meditation by several NIF troopers. He was far from amused and would of liked nothing better than to tell the troopers to wait a half-hour. However, his loyalty was to the NIF. Thus, if he was needed or requested for something, he went.

Kurge sat down while he waited to be informed what this was about. Within a few minutes a ISIS officer walked over:

"Kurge, I need you to come with me." Said a cute human female. She walked him to a small briefing room and waved him inside...

As Kurge walked in another officer at a large table motioned the freelancer to sit down. Kurge spoke as he sat down, "I am honored that I can be of service. What can I do for the NIF?"

The officer pulled up a holographic display, "You know this place? I am sure that you do. It is called the StarForge. Which is one of many shadowports that exist over the galaxy. Two pirates or contractors under our employ are going to stage a takeover of the station..."

Kurge asked, "Which ones are we talking about?"

"Luciana E. and Red Jack the pirate are the two leading up this mission. We want you to infiltrate the StarForge and help ease their attack. Now, it is of upmost importance that you do so discreetly. As, the NIF will officially denounce and deny any knowledge of this strike. Do you understand, Kurge?"

The Gen'Dai nodded, "I understand very clearly. I take it the objectives and such is already aboard my ship?"

The officer nodded...

With that Kurge walked out of the offices and proceeded to his ship, Bloodwing 2. After under going the preflight checks, Kurge took off and entered hyperspace for StarForge...

Eta in 3 hours

Kurge existed hyperspace right on schedule. He knew that he was well ahead of the pirate groups and one of the first few NIF-personnel to get here. He made his way through the asteroids and various debris as he approached the station. When he was in range he hailed the traffic control...

"This is Gorg'e. I am here to do business with a client. Permission to dock?"

.....

"This is tower control. What kind of business will you be doing today?"

..

"I will be undertaking a transfer of merchandise. My client had ordered some certain parts of a less-than-legal nature."

....

"Gorg'e, you are cleared to land in Docking Bay 1, pad Alpha. Have a nice day!"

Kurge acknowledged and proceeded to follow his outlined course.

About an Hour Later

Kurge's ship touched down on the pad and he lowered the ramp. Kurge walked down to the floor of the landing bay. He was wearing his full-length Rancor leather trenchcoat with his spidersilk armor underneath. In addition, he wore his boots which have sheaths for his two vibrodaggers. Concealed under his coat was the pair of vibro-kukris and a Featherweight FWG-5 (F-FWG-5) as well as a DC-15S 'pistol'.

Kurge had stashed the kurkris in a sheath that placed them on his lower back part of his waist. The sidearms were scrupously hidden in low profile holsters in underarm positions. The DC-15S was placed on his left side and the F-FWG-5 on the right. For added punch, the F-FWG-5 was utilizing Kurge's dual clip modification. One clip was loaded with anti-personnel flechette pellets and the other clip with explosive pellets.

Kurge signed the waiver with the landing bay manager when he got off his ship. He then passed through the hanger doors with no trouble and made his way towards the bar in a nice easy going manner...

***
Present Time

Kurge arrived at the bar with plenty of time to spare before he would need to do anything. So, he sat down and ordered a nice glass of Mandallian Narcolethe, an alcoholic beverage. Kurge positioned himself in the corner. So that he could watch the door and the other patrons.

One could not be too careful! Though theorectically the station was neutral ground. Not many mercs or bounty hunters followed that. Especially when they got drunk or other reasons...



After awhile, Kurge noticed that a young woman wearing all white, Echani, dress had entered the bar. He watched calmly from his vantage point as things became more invigorated around her.

Kurge's extremely fine senses enabled him to pick out what was going on. One young rascal, probably no older than 20, was hitting on the young woman. There were several older men offering credits to get her to **** with them. Then something changed! It was subtle yet it stood out to the Gen'Dai. His focus shifted to a man that gave him a rather cold feeling.

This is strange. His heart is beating in a calm almost measured tempo. He isn't excited as far as I can tell. In addition, his body temperature seems...NO! Is lower than everyone else. This may not be good at all...Anzat or similar species?

Kurge then became much more interested when he offered the young lady a drink... Kurge strained his senses and training to the fullest to get through the racket...

...you might ....my forward....may I......bold....ask....your name?

Kurge saw the gal smile and seem to blush a little... Though to make matters worse somebody had given the group drinks. Which only increased the noise level and made it that much harder on Kurge to listen in:

I’m.....fine....save......lit..b..st..d...thin....ery girl...hore.....you.....old.....my.....na...s, M...ra.....ndsome?

Kurge immediately decided that maybe interacting more would help him pass the time and possibly find the other 'help'. Otherwise, that man whoever he was might not be good news or be really bad news for the operation. Thus, Kurge decided that he needed to determine that sooner rather than later...

In addition, something seemed a little familiar from the briefing that had happened after the Directive Attacks on various NIF installations. As he had been involved in helping to thwart one of them, he had been in on the debriefing. It had helped that the NIF would have lost a nice big cruiser had it not been for Kurge and that rather psycho Army lieutenant named Chupa.

As such, Kurge made his way over and to the bar stools right behind the man. He ordered another drink then turned to the group. His eyes caught the young woman's....

She has the eyes of a killer. Well disguised yet still there. So, there seems to be more going on here than I first thought. So, let me see how our abnormal 'friend' here responds...

Kurge then initiated, "So, what brings a well bred lady like yourself here? Cause, this place seems to be out of character for you. I thought I heard your name when I walked over here...it was Mora...or was it Moira?" Kurge smiled. Either this was going to give him a better read on that man or the young lady. Either way, it would only help him get a good idea of what to expect when things started "calming up"...

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Re: The Taking of StarForge Station

Post by Moira Drakengard » 2010-07-10 09:10

The woman just laughed at the newcomer’s attempt to interject a conversation. Slightly giddily taking up a set of glasses the bartender had set up on a bar for the decanter poured from the bottle. The one he had bought just moments before.

“Well your right, my good Sir. It’s Moira, But this is definitely my type of place. No need to be so formal, either.” This ‘moira’ held the glass up in a toast, “Well then, to new found friends, hmm?”

Manson held his own glass silently up to the light, watching the effervescent bubbles within the mixture sparkle as they rose during the young woman's toast...

Manson's mind was moving several lightyears a minute, it surprised him the fact about her comment of people thinking she was 'whoring herself out', it seemed such a waste for such a beauty to be so confined to the age old stipulation of sexism.

Shameful... that one new man was creeping onto his turf- the young woman in front of him was gifted, ravishing and almost sparkling as one who could not see their true potential. It was obvious this woman was much more than a petty prostitute, it seemed she possessed that key spark about a woman (or man for that matter) that might hold a sense undescribable allure. A sense of seeing what a 'person’ might desire, and then matching it in a balance to what they might actually need. An ingrained instinctual capability to hear, to see, to taste, and to touch all in order to incite every one of the five senses. To a proper being, such things were as simple to be known to them as the very air they breathed into their lungs or the exhales of a properly voiced verbal caresses that might send their prey into ecstacy.

To others – it was a trait learned by years of hunting.

And no matter what, the difference between a real prize, whom Manson believed this young woman had the potential to be if she so chose, and a prostitute was a matter of price. And not all prices were weighed in precious metal ingots or credits alone. There was always, always an aspect of bidding that was to be done for someone to even consider themselves worthy of the privilege of receiving their services. It was a thought about the young woman certainly worthy of a night or two of unimaginable bliss before he finally disposed of her.

In a steady tone of voice he spoke to her, and her alone, ignoring the other crowded bodies in the room. A playful tone of being intrigued might be heard within his voice. "My what a lovely name: Moira. Mine is simply Manson."

He gestured towards the rest of the room." I'd perhaps tell you more later, but I'm afraid I must restrain myself out of caution in such places." His gaze scanned the room taking in the looks of everything including what seemed to be an over earnest new man who looked quite desperate for some action in a gruff and sensible sort of way. Save he did seem a smooth talker .

"There still comes a question to my mind, a few in fact: Can you dance? I presume their might be some sort of bidding to be made in order to garner to your ... whims of a dance partner in such matters? And what please tell me how awful were these old curmudgeons saying was the ... price, by the force what a vulgar term, that your ... unique ...services might start for them?

Manson realized that here and now , was that he had caught a soul that stood astride a place of diverging (or was it converging) paths, a place where one wrong step might lead her forever into darkness , or suffer the cruelest fates of depravity by whatever had forced her into such a state. If he wasn’t the predator he was he might just decide to shrug off the expenses as a good samaritan's deed in order to extradite her safely from this place of pestilence she found herself upon- no services taken nor required as repayment so long as he was able to complete his dealings for his ship.


It all depended on whether or not he might persuade her to take a stranger (and perhaps somewhat more terrifying) walk through the darkest corners of this cesspool of a moon to reach a place of light beyond. A place of bliss… before he took it all away.

Who knew what would happen? It was all in the girl's hands... and the other prospective "suitor's" wallet. In a port like this … “credits” could talk louder then words. And so could reputations…

The woman’s gaze flicked back to him speculatively, her one eyebrow arched inquisitively at him before she chucked her thumb back towards the ones who offered to ‘hire’ her before. “Well dancing could be fun, but I don’t think it would be the same sort of dance these bastards wanted.”

Manson slowly lowered his own glass silently down from the air during the moment’s the young woman's gaze shifted back away from him towards what he regarded as a muscle bound oaf. An oaf who looked at him once before asking, “So are you playing the mysterious yet charming , enigma with this young woman Sir? Or just a hellion from these parts out for a good time?”

Manson smiled a little and chuckled at the ambient conversation, just pushing up his glasses a little, “Aren’t we all out for a good time?”

'Mysterious , yet charming, enigma'...


Well it was as good a description as any for himself he imagined, if by mysterious one meant - dangerous, and charming meant- of diabolical , and 'enigma' if one might think of how it was likely if anyone caught wind he was on the station with another female there might be ... trouble.

The local boss’ took issue with the last time Manson had a little ‘fun’. They even threatened him after one of his victims actually lived. Good “taxes” paying sort of people. But screw them: he needed his fun and their sort of Trouble was always exciting in his eyes, almost like a drug. Addicting, and somewhat pleasurable. His gaze lay fixated upon the young woman as she stated she couldn't dance... a pity. He imagined he might teach her to do so very well if he possessed the 'time', so to speak.


Still she was attractively, charming in a sort of naive way. Like she didn't really know what she was doing. Especially when she said her starting bid... he actually chuckled a little before asking a question to her, wondering if it might make her a little bashful or blushing. "You don't seem to be very much... experienced ...in this sort of thing, Dancing? Surely you have a little bit more judgment in your potential partner’s worth, don't you?" He accentuated the 'experienced' part, turning it into a double entendre to see if she was capable of noticing.


A part of his mind spoke to him as his gaze wandered to the woman's hair, wondering if unbundled it was long enough to touch the floor... Oh the positions he might try. Yeah, he looked at her completely; taking in her beauty, if given half the opportunity or a shy smile his way, Manson knew he'd tap that. Maybe bump it. Possibly bang it a little.

One of Manson’s few rules was that he never wished to take a woman to such lengths before he for something as vulgar as credits ... he'd rather work for it over time as he truly desired his women possess a bit of laughter when he took them to bed. ‘If he could keep his knife at bay for so long… the mystic mambo just might be worth the hassle… before he put the fear into her eyes… before he put her in her grave.

Still- if he truly knew what her desires tonight were- if it was for drugs or anything similar- he'd help in any way he could. Make the night go by smoother to suit his mood. No matter what he decided he'd try to take her slow... if just to savor her uniqueness long enough to prey upon her. He'd even go so far as to pay court to her, for a few nights of wonder and ecstacy, ensuring she had enough to shine before he cut her.

He’d go for a lot of lengths for a good kill so long as it wasn’t for something as profanely simply as monetary gain...

Manson was intrigued enough to woo the truth out of her. Still he had the credits on hand to try and keep her from at least one oaf's clutches. . . maybe more.

“So what about that dance, sweetie?”

The woman let out a laugh , “I suppose letting myself go for one night couldn’t be so wrong… the only question is which of you two fine gents is going to be my dance partner to start it off…”


Manson watched as this young Moira stretched her arms whimsically above her head before walking around the big lug in a circle slowly, and with an appraising gaze upon her features. Finally, she stopped directly in front of him again and gave the alien a charming wink, “Sorry big boy. But you’re not my type- way to broad in the shoulders.” She laughed a little coquettishly before adding with a slight smile towards the hulking three-point-five meter man, “I’m sure if it was just a dance you actually might accidently end up stepping on and crushing little ol’ me. And I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t make anyone’s night any fun now would it? A trip to the doctor’s never makes a good story to tell one’s girlfriend’s, I mean just look at the size of those feet of yours! Sorry Hon, I’m sure I wouldn’t mind sharing a drink with you sometime though: you look like you have some stories of your own.”

Manson smiled and smirked above the woman’s head a moment before he caught himself as the young woman spun around towards him before linking her hands behind her back. “Now this gent right here, seems to be a willing dance partner, and his feet don’t look too big enough to step on mine. So… might as well take him up on his offer.”

It was a great pleasure to him when the young woman quickly crossed the span of distance between them to grab his arm and drag him towards the dance floor. Manson smirked all the way past the oafish one.

’Yes with the spunk this one had it could be worth it to wait it out…’


The smile stayed plastered to his features as she snaked his hand up and over her shoulder keeping it there as they walked through the throng of the crowd … and then past the ravers to an doorway which lead out into the cooler air then the pressing heat of bodies within the dance floor and out into an alley way.


“I thought you wanted a danc-“ Manson’s voice was cut off as the woman quickly pushed him with both hands upon his chest back into the wall before her lips sealed upon his.

She kissed him with a fierce intensity, her hands moving over him, sliding under his black jacket to touch the warm flesh covered only by the thin layer of his shirt. Her breathing was hot and heavy, her slight form crushing against his chest as she took the initiative within the shadows of the alleyway as her tongue began to gently tease his own as he felt his bottom lip suckled slightly, teasingly before she pulled herself away just far enough away to speak.

“First off… three ground rules. One. No strings attached. I’m not looking for something more than tonight… so rest easy.” Once again, her eyes shone with a feral light, that desireable spark awakening in their depths. “Two. Don’t think you got to be gentle. I’m not going to break.” And then she leaned over and kissed him again, good and hard on the mouth, before whispering against his lips…

“Three. Be prepared …it’s gonna be a long night.”

She pulled away from his grasp just as quickly as she had come walking primly away from him with a daring glance thrown over her shoulder at him. As he began to follow after her he thought to himself, 'Yes this one was definitely worth the wait'

By the start of things, this would probably be an experience to remember for the rest of his life...
Last edited by Moira Drakengard on 2011-01-29 03:03, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: The Taking of StarForge Station

Post by Kurge » 2010-07-10 22:44

The young lady's response to his query only amused the Gen'Dai.

No need to be so formal, sure...little one. You really are quite a bundle of trouble if you asked me, despite that you act innocent. Kurge raised his glass in return, "To new found friends!" Whereupon he joined in on the drinking. Yet, there was something that kept nudging in his mind...what was it?

Mine is simply Manson.

Kurge immediately registered it. I need to do a check up on him later, which wouldn't be a bad thing. Besides, a man as quiet and stealthy as him could cause me a world of trouble later. Especially, if he was in league with those Council of Tenants! Though when I do, I need to make sure to be cautious while doing it.

Kurge snapped back as the man named Manson and the young gal, Moira, started to talk about dancing. Kurge simply stayed where he was and enjoyed his drink. He knew he could dance. He had been put in that situation several times. Yet, it was one of those things few people alive knew about. Either way, this was starting to get more interesting. Especially as the exchange took a turn towards what seemed to be derisive humor.

Thus, Kurge interjected again, "So are you playing the mysterious yet charming , enigma with this young woman Sir? Or just a hellion from these parts out for a good time?” His reaction would be useful. If his body temperature thus his heart rate changed even a little, Kurge would know. Thus, he would gain an idea of what kind of person he was. End result being, it would enable Kurge to figure out if the man was hot-tempered or easy going. Either way, he would exploit this Manson's weak spot and deal with him should he have to when the operation really started moving.

Manson smiled a little and chuckled at the ambient conversation, just pushing up his glasses a little, “Aren’t we all out for a good time?”

DAMN! That didn't help me much at all. This guy seriously knows how to keep a cool head. Despite my attempt to give his ego a nice nudge. Either way, you won't beat me if you wanted to try. Plus, I will promise that if you get in my way once Overlord starts, you will not survive...

Kurge simply smiled back, "That is right! If we don't have some fun than life would be all work and no play. Which would make for one screwed up existence, right?" He hoped the the man wouldn't realize what he had been trying to do. In addition, it would be best if the girl didn't catch it either!

Manson, simply responded in agreement and started another round of toasts.

Kurge was paying only passing attention to the conversation that had started. Yet, his main interest was if things were as they seemed. Cause a thought had just struck him!

What if the Moira girl is working with the Council of Tenants? If so, than a girl like her can easily cause trouble and a lot more than the Manson fellow. That would only make this op even more risky for me and everybody else. What is more, she has very good form and movement, for that matter. Obviously, she worked on her footwork. Maybe dancing or possibly something else...? Makes no difference! I got my job and there is no way in hell that I am gonna be stopped by her, Manson or the rest of these slimebags!

Kurge was slightly caught of balance when things abruptly changed...when Moira laughed:

“I suppose letting myself go for one night couldn’t be so wrong… the only question is which of you two fine gents is going to be my dance partner to start it off…”

Kurge watched as the young lady circled him and clearly checking him out. He knew that if she decided to offer to him, it could either work in his favor or threaten his part of the operation...

Kurge looked at her with his ancient and calm eyes. If she tried she wouldn't be able to read much from them at all:

“Sorry big boy. But you’re not my type- way to broad in the shoulders.” *laughs then a slight smile* “I’m sure if it was just a dance you actually might accidentally end up stepping on and crushing little ol’ me. And I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t make anyone’s night any fun now would it? A trip to the doctor’s never makes a good story to tell one’s girlfriend’s, I mean just look at the size of those feet of yours! Sorry Hon, I’m sure I wouldn’t mind sharing a drink with you sometime though: you look like you have some stories of your own.”

Kurge nodded his accent and smiled, "You have no idea the stories I have. Though a drink would probably be more...appropriate." Relieved, that he wouldn't have to put any of his plans or objectives at risk; Kurge mentally settled down.

She smiled at the Gen'Dai's remark then turned and with a bounce in her step She quickly went over towards Manson.

Kurge wasn't surprised at all. Though in perspective, he hadn't even been playing the game, much less to win. He had gotten what he had wanted. A feel for the people around here. So, in his point of view, he had won. As she turned towards the dance floor, he really noticed her features:

White hair, light skin and silver eyes and young...SHIT! She is possibly an Echani, Arkanian, Omwati or any number of reasons or species or hybrids. Though Omwati is a bit of a push since that is clearly mammalian hair. Whereas Omwati have feathers being avian. Thus, that at least means I know I got either an Echani or an Arkanian or some humanoid hybrid on my hands. Either of the first two cases is not good for me! Knowing what I know about the first two cultures, she is probably a pretty skilled combatant if either of those. I will have to be careful of her...

Manson on the other hand is just creepy. He has a sly and almost slick aura about him. Then there is the whole disturbing aspect of his biology. That is just not normal for a human being. Unfortunately, I don't know what or who he is. Either way, he was light on his feet when she pulled him to the dance floor. In addition, the man did seem to possess some muscular power. Not up to par with mine but definitely not a drop in the bucket either. If guessing, he is probably skilled at silent killing, knives or blades; possibly with hands as well. In addition, wouldn't surprise me if he is a pretty good shot too. Since, I didn't get any real data or anything from him, intentionally or otherwise, he is definitely the more troublesome, tactically.


Kurge went back to his corner for awhile longer and noticed when the pair, Moira and Manson, had left. Once he was sure they were not going to be in the area, Kurge started to scan and appraise the other patrons...

DAMN! No matter how I look at this it won't be good. Hopefully, Lady-Fate doesn't give me both of them at the same time...Other than those two, there are several rather tough looking guys in here. The one with the scar on his right cheek is probably a merc or bounty hunter. The lighter built guy to his right is probably Corellian, since he has Corellian blood strips on his pants. In addition, he looks as if he isn't a dedicated fighter. So, maybe he is a smuggler. The redheaded woman in the corner behind the wall, across from me, by the door. She is probably a merc. Given that light armor bodice and almost knee length boots. All in all, there are about a dozen mercenaries or bounty hunters and about that one-an-half the number of smugglers and other civies. So, that gives me a total count in this bar alone at thirty, give or take a few. This is going to be one of *those* missions...

Kurge propped his feet up on the foot stool in front of his chair. He then started to scan for anyone that he could team up with. Since, it would be best to work in teams than as a lone wolf or solo!
Last edited by Kurge on 2010-10-16 05:01, edited 3 times in total.

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Re: The Taking of StarForge Station

Post by Spyker Katarn » 2010-07-20 05:18

"Come on, you son of a bitch! Get some!" The screaming could be heard from the weapons station as One-Shot fired at the Z-95s chasing them around the outer hull of the station. For his part, Spyker tried to not fly into the ubiquitous pieces of space debris littering the area, using them as cover. Almost immediately after sending the message to the Z-95s requesting identification, the two opponents fell to an attack position, obviously after the fake cargo Spyker had professed to carry. He honestly had not expected the ruse to work, but so far, his team was unable to shake their two pursuers.

In the distance, Spyker saw a potential opportunity to destroy the two craft dogging them. As he executed what would have been a high-G turn if the ships were in atmosphere, Spyker angled the craft towards one of the station's many outcroppings. A pipeline of some sort jutted outwards before passing into another area of the station, parallel to what looked like a tramway between the sections. The ISIS freighter's central computer came to the conclusion that the gap was just wide enough to squeeze through, and so might be the best chance to both ditch their opponent and cause damage to the station.

"Hold on, everyone!" Cinching his harness tight to his chest, Spyker rolled the ship over, pulling it into a spin and throwing off the aim of the Z-95 pilots. If his timing was off by even a millisecond, the freighter would be sheared in half by the force of the collision. Time began slowing down for Spyker, adrenaline flooding his system and heightening his senses. Everything moved as if coated in molasses, and Spyker used the amped-up time wisely. A deft touch on the control yoke caught the spin at the right moment to squeeze through the gap, and then they were past it, leaving it behind them.

One of the Z-95s was not so lucky, however, as it could not pull away in time. The small starfighter slammed into the transit tube, shattering it and exploding into silent flame before dissipating in a heartbeat. Dozens of sentients died from the immediate depressurization and flash-freezing in the cold of space. The second fighter veered off, narrowly avoiding the pipeline, but losing the target in the process. Spyker let out a sigh of relief as the adrenaline rush wore off, leaving him feeling tired. It would not be the last life-or-death situation this mission.

"How are we looking, Salis?"

"All clear, Sarge. That last one buggered off. Shield status is holding at one-quarter; no major damage."

"Too close. Let's bring it in; make prep for landing."
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Re: The Taking of StarForge Station

Post by Ryan Korr » 2010-07-20 07:50

Time ticked away. Ryan needed to get into position to capture those council members. Concernment over capturing all of them did not trouble Ryan. Killing them could still be an option. In addition to this he needed to rig the hyperdrives to detonate. For this purpose he had brought several blocks of detonite with him in his satchel. Both objectives were priority level targets. He could take out both, or just one.

Korr took in the hangar bay. It was pretty full. Undoubtedly, there were other operatives here that Red Jack and Luciana had sent. For the moment - He heard footsteps approaching, greeting party - he needed to get out of here. Turning slowly, he surveyed the welcoming committee. Six guards, with one lead security sergeant. Trouble, possibly.

"Gentlemen..." Ryan said, his tone even. It was most likely just a routine check for credentials; making sure you were who you said you were. But why such a large detail? Korr remembered that on his last visit to Starforge - he had been there once a while back - there had definitely not been six guards to a detail, last time it was only two. So why? Korr's hands drifted slowly from shutting the ramp, to rest at his sides - right above his pistols.

The lead security guard stopped a meter away from Ryan. Raising his hand, the lead spoke with a threatening tone, "So you are Ryan Korr....supposedly. Identification?"

Ryan moved one hand into his coat pocket and brought out his bounty license, along with ID. There was no reason to hide who he was on this planet. The last remaining bounty on his head was gone, so far as he knew. Bad memories. "Satisfied?"

Taking a good long look at the license, the guard looked back up at Ryan and handed back the ID and licence. "Indeed. It seems you are who you say you are, Mister Korr."

"I better be." Ryan muttered, then seeing the lead raise an eyebrow said in a louder voice "Why the increased reason for security Mister.....?"

"Chekelov, and you do not need to know the reason. Now, what is your business here?"

Raising his eyebrows slightly, Ryan sucked in a breath of air in preparation to explain. It was an a-typical story, mostly true and mostly false. "A new pirate outfit wants me dead, the Reapers. Never heard of 'em? I'm not surprised. They're new kids around the block, I helped to blow up some of their ships a not too long ago. I figured the best place to stowaway for a while would be here..." Would they buy this story?

"It may come as a surprise to you, Mr. Korr, but we have heard of the Reapers. We do not know of any bounty on you-"

"There's no bounty." Ryan interjected.

The lead held up a hand to forestall any other comments Ryan may put in. "However, we do know that they are a new outfit looking for blood. Some of them even reside here..."

"Will that be a problem?" If it was this could become very dangerous, since the Reapers were actually looking for his blood, that much was true. They hadn't yet managed to find him though.

"No, but-" the lead looked at Ryan's pistols and then back up into the merc's face "-if it is we will take care of it."

"Good....are we done here?"

"I believe so. How long do you plan on staying?"

"Indefinitely." said Ryan, already walking away. The security detail let him go without any further trouble, although doubtless perplexed about his answer. Korr went his own way. Navigating the channels of the hangar, he eventually emerged from its depths to come upon a small open plaza. It was filled with few beings that varied greatly in variety. All looked like the shady type. That was not to be unexpected though, considering the location. Ryan closed his eyes and concentrated, trying to bring back the memories of when he was last here. He remembered that the main way to the council chambers lay almost directly ahead. He should just keep walking straight. Far, far to his right were the hyperdrives. But there was a shortcut, if he remembered correctly.

Continuing to walk forward, Ryan passed through the crowd in the plaza and took a diagonal path in between the right and straight passages. This took him towards the living quarters of town and also towards the local cantinas. One of these cantinas had a back exit that was a shortcut past a variety of security checkpoints. Once through that cantina, Ryan could make his way towards the hyperdrives with less trouble. He didn't want to cause too much noise along the way though. The plan was to attach the detonite without the knowledge of the locals, then move on to secure an area around the council chambers. Once the armada arrived, Ryan would blow the hyperdrives and move in to capture the councilors.

Passing into the living section of the station, Ryan found much life. They wouldn't know what had happend by the time Red Jack arrived. If everything went according to plan. And that was a very big if, since things almost never went according to plan. He saw people going about typical business. The cantinas were in full throttle today. Didn't matter one way or the other for Ryan's purposes. Would be as simple as slipping in and slipping out.

It took several moments for him to find the right cantina and enter it. There was a dance floor going and the bar was busy. Ryan heard the cheesy music coming from within in addition to the smell of deathsticks and alcohol, among other things. Ryan stepped forward. The sounds, the smells, all so familiar and typical of a cantina. He had planned to go right on through. All that changed when he saw a hulking figure talking to a woman with silvery-white hair at the bar. "Him, here?" were Ryan's initial thoughts. Now he just needed to get through faster. The only problem was that to get to the exit, Ryan would have to pass the Gen'dai. He just hoped that Kurge wouldn't recognize him. After all, what were the odds? Perhaps not so large, Ryan thought. Kurge was a freelancer who worked closely with the NIF, what if Kurge had been contracted as well? It was a thought.

Ryan saw the silvery-white haired woman leave, more of a girl really, accompanied by a human male. Korr decided that it was now or never. If Kurge recognized him and wanted to talk, the Gen'dai would say something. If not, Ryan was free to go about his business. He walked towards the exit...
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Re: The Taking of StarForge Station

Post by Kurge » 2010-07-21 01:26

Kurge locked onto a familiar face in the crowd that was moving towards the back exit. It is that man...His name is Ryan if I remember aright. Either way, what is he doing here? If he is not here to help then he needs to be dealt with.

Kurge waited till he had passed by him and went through the door. Then Kurge stood up and slipped through the door as well. Despite his size and hulking nature, Kurge could be quite stealthy when he wished to be.

He watched as the other freelancer turned a corner and followed him at a slightly slower pace. Cautiously, he looked around the corner using a polished durasteel mirror. He saw the man keep walking towards the next turn. Kurge watched as he started to turn then quickly followed up to that corner...spreading his weight carefully across the large surface of his feet.

DAMN! Where did he go? There are no immediate turn offs. He didn't start running cause I would have noticed. Since, I never lagged more than 200 meters behind him. He is there...but I can't tell where. Maybe he figured out he was being followed.

Kurge then slowly peeked out around the corner and came around warily with his hand on one of his pistols and the other ready to draw and slice....

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Re: The Taking of StarForge Station

Post by Ryan Korr » 2010-07-21 04:32

Korr remembered how he had come across this backdoor on his first visit. There had been a scuffle inside the bar. It had been a onesided fight, literally. Ryan on one side and about four ruffians on the other. Not wanting to cause too big of a scene and start a shootout, Ryan had fled through one of the back corridors. He had kept running until he had to turn a sharp corridor, trundle through another corridor and then take another sharp left that seemed to continue leading on.

Now in the present time, Ryan wondered if it was worth the risk to try and neutralize the engines as well, but perhaps someone had already been given that task. Right now he was facing more imminent dangers.

When he was fleeing the ruffians, he had stumbled against the wall and felt a slight give. Korr had pushed harder against where he had felt the unnatural occurence. A seamless door had swung open. Korr had gone through it and closed it on the other side. To the naked eye it was nearly undetectable. Once on the otherside, Ryan had taken a good time to find out exactly where he was and what the purpose of the door was. From what he could tell it was exactly what he had used it for, a secret escape door for the owner if anything went awry. There were no immediate cameras or surveillance in the area either. Where it had taken him was somewhat more perplexing. Through additional scouting, Ryan had found that it had taken him away from the cantina and living-quarters sector and towards the engines and hyperdrives. He still had no theory as to exactly why the person who had created this secret exit had made it towards the hyperdrives and engines. Unless....

His thoughts flashed by rapidly as his mind connected the dots too fast for words to speak. Unless it was really for someone who worked with the engines and hyperdrives to get into the bar, or vice-versa. A secret love perhaps? It wouldn't be unprecedented, although that was a strange way to go about things.

Ryan was now on the other side of the door, but he had had a prickling feeling on the back of his neck once he had gone several steps through the door. Was Kurge tailing him? If so, then it couldn't be good. The Gen'dai should have simply spoken to him if he had known that Ryan was one of those employed by Red Jack and Luciana. So either he didn't and was employed, a viable option, or he was here for some reason other than taking Starforge. In which case, he was a threat. But should he go back through the door? Or should he continue on. Which was more threatening? Continuing on, Ryan couldn't count Kurge out of the picture, whereas if he encountered him now he'd have it over and done with. Korr frowned, then decided.

He kicked open the seamless door and side stepped through it. His blaster pistols were out, but not held at arm-length. They were held at his sides, elbows bent, pistols pointed at the Gen'dai that Ryan now saw emerging around the corner, almost face-to-face.

"Kurge, oh, I wouldn't move if I were you." Ryan said evenly as he saw the Gen'dai's fingers wrapped around his pistol.
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