Private My Means for Your Methods

[Vendra Vane]

LLANIC SYSTEM
- Asteroid Field 3b -

Not far from Lok was the planet Llanic, a smuggling hub in the Outer Rim known for spice trade and piracy, and deep inside a nearby asteroid field was the prize that Vendra and her crew had been sent to secure.

"I don't care what happens to the station. Blow it up if you have to. Whatever it takes, you will put an end to these raids." Spoke the holographic recording of one Gloovan named Sal.

Vendra ended the recording and turned to bark orders at her captain, but was cut off before she could even get out the first syllable.

"Activity from the station. Bringing it on the screen now." Reported one of the techs.

On display was the station they had been sent to capture or destroy, an old shipyard with repair docks that looked like a chimera of ships held together by scaffolding. More peculiarly on the screen was the ship swarm outright assaulting it. Missile trails and explosive flashes filled the display with so much noise it occasionally scrambled their sensors. The station fired back with its own point defense systems and the docked ships themselves, which appeared to be acting as an ad-hoc defense network.

"What the hell is going on?" Vendra asked.

The tech looked back at her with a shrug. "A falling out, maybe? You know how pirates are."

The captain interjected next. "It doesn't matter, what. We need orders, Ma'am, our approach must be known to them by now."

Vendra crossed her arms and gave it a measure of thought. "Keep our distance and have the fighters in defense formation around the Apologies. We need to find a gap in the station's firing pattern, that will be our breach point."

The captain nodded and gave orders for the Last Apologies to move around the outskirts of the conflict, relying on distance and the asteroids themselves for cover. All the while the battle ensued. "I would have elected to destroy it," the Captain muttered.

Sable Varro | Tydeus of Tion

 

[Alec Sienar]

Vendra Vane | Sable Varro | Tydeus of Tion

The reason why the station seemed to be at war with itself was pretty simple.

Some absolute mad man had jury-rigged some of the starfighters and corrupted the astromechs that were supposed to help navigate them. Once they flew out of the bays, their pilots soon realized that their control over the fighter was lost, all communication was cut off and their weapon systems engaged seemingly by itself. Soon after they began to fire into allied ships who had no idea what had happened. Except that these were brigants, pirates and worse. They had barely any loyalty to one another and so it soon descended into chaos. As pirate began to fight against pirate, it became a free-for-all that even spilled out into the station proper.

The reason why Vendra wasn't aware what the kriff was happening was a bit more complicated.

About a week ago she had made contact with a new operative. Codename Pyro. He seemed alright enough, but with a heavy nursing grudge against the Sith and anything to do with the Sith. She send him to this very station to scout it out once she got word they might be taking this job from the Gloovan named Sal.

Just to scout it out. Nothing... of this magnitude.

Usually Pyro was happy to assist and not make anything more complicated than it had to be. Except two days into the operation he noticed several Sith interfacing with the pirates. Apparently they had a mutually beneficial relationship. That is where Pyro lost it entirely and went off the rails.

Within that mess of fighters flying against one another, turbolasers destroying and warping metal, Vane's scanners would pick up something interesting. One of the fighters was not like the others. Oh, sure, it looked like a piece of chit. But beyond the cosmetic changes... it still carried the sub-space transmitter that signaled it was one of their ships.

And currently it was taking advantage of the free-for-all by shooting at everything in sight.

At least Sienar was having fun with it, right?

 

[Tydeus of Tion]

Electricity flickered out, cutting power to a portion of the station. The same portion which held a carbonite slab marked Prisoner 4212.

As the backup generators came online and power resumed, the carbonite’s internal systems automatically started to thaw out the occupant.

* * *

A half-blind and barefoot boy stumbled through the hallway, his dark hair matted to his head. He felt nausea welling within his gut, but refused to bow before his body’s protestations.

The flesh was weak, even with the adrenaline coursing through him.

How long had he been in carbonite? How much time had he wasted in that slumber? Every day a day he could have spent preparing. Learning. Training. To fulfill his destiny.

Not one gifted him. Not one seen by some prophet. The one he seized with his bare hands, wrestling from the embers of his burned homeworld.

This singular purpose drove him onward, even with his eyes bleary from carbonite blindness. Fueled by rage and a single-minded purpose, carrying with him the echoes of a billion souls burnt to cinders beneath Kainate turbolasers.

Kaine Zambrano must die.

 

[Sable Varro]

​

My Means

Tags: Vendra Vane

Equipment Loadout:

• Primary Weapon(s): SD-L1 Long Blaster
• Secondary Weapon(s): HG-88 Big Iron, VB-113 "Tidefall" Class Vibroblade,
• Specialized Gear: Wrist Mounted Weapons (Hekler'Kok WMMW-01), DS-102 "Aegis" Personal Energy Shield,
• Armor & Attire: Personal Armor

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---

Sable exhaled sharply, something between a scoff and a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Her fingers twitched at her sides, curling, then flexing again like she was testing whether she still had feeling in them. She looked to Venny with a calm expression under her mask, forcing her arms to cross once more as the scene on the bridge seemed to grow a bit more tense.

Sable leaned back in her chair, idly tapping a gloved finger against the armrest as she watched the display flicker with the chaos of battle. "See, this is why I don't work with pirates," She remarked dryly. "The moment there's a hint of profit, they turn on each other like starving akk dogs."

Her crimson eyes flicked toward Vendra. "I did come onto this with the goal of not dying, I'd like that to still be the end result."

She wasn't nervous per-say, but she was a bit miffed at all the ensuing chaos that she couldn't take advantage of. Regardless, she would make do.

She smirked, tilting her head slightly. "It's your op. If you'd rather wade in blasters blazing, I'll just stand here and watch it all come down around me."

 

[Vendra Vane]

Vendra turned her head to Sable. "You know, I'm technically a pirate myself." She said with a blank expression, though her drawl might have suggested it was a joke.

"We're in position!" Barked the captain.

"Good," Vendra replied. Her eyes scanned the chaos and made note of what she saw. "Looks like a karkin' free-for-all out there. I wonder if our inside man has anything to do with this. See that fighter?" She points to the display. "Don't kill it. I think we owe that one credits."

The Dark Jedi turned to Sable and gave her a pat on the shoulder. "Head down to the bay and take the shuttle in. Lead a team to the main hangar. You gotta earn that death, no sitting around on the bridge." She teased.

Vendra had her own ride to the station, an old Kappa-class sat atop the frigate's docking port. Surplus, practically ancient, but well taken care of, and more importantly, it was reliable. Not to say that the pair of U-55s in the bay were worse for wear, just that Ven had a type.

When she climbed up inside, there was already a rugged team of mercs waiting for her. Men, women, those in-between and without. Some were just good soldiers, others specialists whom she trusted. All of them were hand-picked for this mission and had served together for nearly a decade. The Mirialan walked between the aisles, patting some on the shoulders, exchanging quick bits of banter, and just doing her best to keep the tensions high but not critical.

"This is going to be a rough entry. The station defenses will likely be firing on us the whole time, but thankfully, the chaos in the vacuum should spare us from some of it."

Inside the station was another story. Already, blood was being spilt. Traps were going off left and right, and old droids were slaughtering pirates wholesale as if them slaughtering each other weren't enough. The real trouble, though, was the improvised turrets made from repurposed droideka. Those blasters were shredding through meat like no tomorrow, and burning flesh began to permeate the halls.

Alec Sienar | Tydeus of Tion | Sable Varro