Empty Threats [Void Station Attack]

[Miss Blonde]

[media] https://youtu.be/cRDXiLPMeGk [/media]​

It bewildered Miss Blonde, what people thought of her. That she was this person who only spoke lies and empty threats, that when she said something she had no intention of following through with it. It was a bit hurtful to say the least, she had built a career on her hard work and dedication to what she had promised. But yet, people seemed to just push aside any notion of peace she might of offered. They wanted blood, so they'd get blood.

Void Station. A once proud piece of the criminal underworld where information was shared and jobs were planned was now flying the flags of imperialism. A fortress and home for Baron Morcus and Imperial Remnant personnel and to come and feel secure and be pampered, it's once noble roots were gone and its owner would of been rolling in their grave. Void Station was now little more than a joke, and it would serve as a prime example of how if you didn't take what she said to heart, then people would die.

Two imperial shuttles came out of hyperspace and were headed on a one way trip to the station. They were older models that were bought on the black market, they wouldn't fool people for too long but long enough for them to dock at the guest platforms. When they did so, the two shuttles remained silent as the control room hailed for their response to let them into the facility.

The ships didn't remain silent for very long, from within their depths there was a mechanical whirling noise of servos beginning to move. That noise grew louder and louder until a single voice was heard on the opposite side of the door.

"Fire in the hole." The deep and robotic tone of a War Dog said before two explosions went off.

The door separating the shuttles and the stations exploded and with them now gone, the sounds of robotic feet clanked on the metal floors. Miss Blonde had sent her War Dogs to raise some hell. But something needed to be made clear, this was only the beginning. Desmond took her words as a joke, and that was a mistake he'd live with for the rest of his life.

"Alright my lovelies. Kill only Imperial Personnel. Non hostile civilians and palace staff are off limits." Blonde's voice rang out over comms and her droids went to work.

Approximately forty droids had arrived and they were of course no match for the superior numbers here at the station. They were primarily there to kill as many imperials as they could before their destruction, it was a good opening act for a long and bloody terror campaign Blonde was going to wage on the Remnant. At least until they came to their senses and accepted her offer of peace.

Blaster rifles and slug throwers started opening fire at nearby guards, and from there it had begun. The attack on Void Station.

War Dogs: 40
[member="Desmond C'artyom"] [member="Tanomas Graf"]

 

[Darth Abyss]

Darth Abyss didn't had the reputation of being a very forgiving person for one simple reason: He was in fact not a very forgiving person. So it was unsurprising that he had not yet forgiven the attack of the imperial remnant on what he had build on Malachor. Nor did he forgive the many innocents slaughtered that day. Not that Abyss cared that much for them, but a civilian massacre on his turf, against his people was an insult to everything he and Malachor stood for. And now he would have them pay the price, body for body, blood for blood.

The Phasma-Class Infilator he was travelling in was a state of the art stealth ship, coming with visual and sensor cloaking. They would only see them if he wanted them to, and he had no intention of doing that. Instead he and his crew got ready. He neither brought an army, nor even a real strike team, because the didn't needed one. The close corridors of a space station allowed small groups to move far quicker, and to strike more effectively. That was why he was only escorted by 5 members of his inner eye two demolition experts, a sharpshooter and another two armed for heavy ordinance. They were good people, and each of them lost a friend when the first order cowardly took shoots at them from the sky. It was out of question that each of them was exceptionally motivated to kill a few imperial soldiers today.

For only a second the ship jumped through sensory readings, so quick that a unskilled analyst would probably believe it to be noise and not an actual reading. In that second Abyss and his men all jumped out of the moving starship, shrouded in short working energy shields that kept the death of space away from them. The next thing the sensors would pick up, besides the signatures of 6 living beings in space would be a rise of heat, as a red lightsaber breached the shell of the space station, cutting in an opening for the small crew. It was a neat little trick Abyss, a man with little understanding for warfare in space, had picked up on, and one he had used fairly regularly to board and destroy enemy ships. Now they would show them what a bad idea it was to make unwise decision on Malachor V.

While his saber was creating a man sized hole, he patched in his comm on Blondes frequency, the noise of air being pushed into space filling the background.

"Just so you know, I am cutting a hole in the void station right now. Should divert a bit of their attention away from you, so give them a good show."

With that the transmission stopped, and the crew pushed into the space station which would probably activate a emergency lock down of the opening in a very short moment.

[member="Miss Blonde"] [member="Tanomas Graf"] [member="Desmond C'artyom"]

 

[Desmond C'artyom]

Desmond C'artyom was enjoying a relaxing patrol on Void Station. He found that walking about helped ease his mind. He still sported a few of the cuts from the heated battle on Malachor 5, but they were only superficial. Still the battle had been hard fought and Desmond needed time to think. Then a beautiful Torgruta caught his eye. He swaggered over to the bar where she was ordering her drink and she stared at him disinterestedly "Could I interest you in something?" She said boredly. "I'm tempted to say yes immediately, but I feel I should have a look around," Des said as he spied her large bottom.

Then he spotted stormtroopers running towards the hangar. "Perhaps another time doll," Des said as he ran after the troopers. He managed to catch up to one just in the nick of time "Agent C'artyom, clearance code Bara Kesh. What's happening?" The stormtrooper looked around frantically "There's been a shootout in the hangar sir," He said a little nervously. "Desmond dismissed the trooper with a nod then made his way to the grav lift. The lift took him to main command room and here he found several Imperial officers pacing around a holo table shouting fervently about what to do. They didn't even notice Desmond had entered until he cleared his throat. "Excuse me, but who are you?" One of the lieutenants said haughtily. "The names C'artyom, Desmond C'artyom. I am here to survey the situation," Desmond said coolly.

"We're in need of you C'artyom. We've sent several platoons to deal with the situation," He pointed to the holo map indicating two arrows moving towards the hangar. "But so far only one has arrived," The man then pointed to the one arrow that sat just outside the hangar. Desmond nodded "They will simply have to hold until reinforcements arrive," Desmond then moved away from the table and went to the locker rooms. He donned his gray phrik stealth cloak and retrieved a disruptor rifle and one scattergun. He walked to his squads quarters where the most of them were resting. Five Chiss agents lay sleeping in their bunks. Desmond tapped the durasteel frame and they awoke with a start. "Get up lads. There's vermin aboard the ship," The Chiss agents quickly dressed into their nondescript stealth cloaks and equipped their elite EE-3's. "Let's not keep them waiting," Desmond Said as the squad activated their stealth cloaks.

[member="Darth Abyss"]
[member="Miss Blonde"]

 

[James Justice]

You never knew what this world would hold for you. One minute you could be the king, the next you could be the goat. For James, he was somewhere in the middle, it really all depended on where you stood. Kinda like blaster cannons--whether you liked them or not depended on what end of it you were standing. From the deck of his cloaked Angel's Glory, hidden from yeah everything and everyone, it looked to James like the Remnant were pretty screwed.

James knew Blonde, he knew she was all business and when she said she was going to do something--even he wouldn't dare cross that woman. That said a lot for a guy who had spent his life thumbing his nose at authorities. He was debating whether he wanted to sit and wait and watch it all unfold--or if he wanted to partake.

"My lord, you know that if we fight this, winning will be all but impossible," Katsumoto asked from beside James.

The spacer set his whiskey down on the console, "Maybe. But we don't have to win. All we have to do is make victory way too costly for the enemy until they give up."

The warlord quirked his brow at James' statement, "My lord? Why should we fight if we cannot win?"

James shrugged, "I dunno, why do I do anything."

"Should I prepare the warriors then, my lord?"

James shook his head, "Not yet. We just wait for now. Wait and watch. When she is ready for us, Blonde will let us know."

"But how would she know we are here, my lord? Shall we send a message?"

James gave a wry, tired smile, "No, she knows I be here. She knows."

[member="Miss Blonde"]
[member="Thraxis"]

 

[Miss Blonde]

When Miss Blonde heard Abyss voice come over the comms, her heart skipped a beat. This wasn't because she loved him or that she had arrhythmia, cause you could die from that FYI. It was due to her not being there, she had sent those War Dogs on what was essentially a suicide mission. She was quite far away talking on long range communications to her robotic soldiers, this was not a job that a person just walked away from without having a reliable transport out. So she quickly got on Abyss' frequency to tell him that he shouldn't be there.

"What are you doing there? This is just an opening operational skirmish. Those droids are there on a one way ticket, get out of there before things get too heavy. I'm not going to lose you." Blonde spoke in Abyss' earpiece with her normal tone without the mask modifying her voice.

With her message passed along, the operation was still a go. In the hanger there was a platoon of Stormtroopers who had taken up position to start laying down fire. A few droids were picked off but with the surprise attack the War Dogs were able to get a foothold into the hanger. From there they were able to use the droids had their firing lines and were about to wipe out the platoon of Stormies in front of them.

"Forty Mike Mike! Forty Mike Mike!" One of the squad leader droids yelled out to the crew of robotic warriors.

The majority of the War Dogs were equipped with the Sledgehammer Weapon System and the Sledgehammer came standard with a groovy little feature. Now this was the point if you were wondering what forty Mike Mike stood for. It stood for forty millimeter grenade launcher. Which the War Dogs activated and aimed towards the troopers.

Not having to worry about silly things like explosive decompression, the droids fired the grenade launchers under their weapons and decimated the platoon of stormtroopers. Bodies and blood splattered across the hanger as small pockets of fire burned cargo crates other pieces of debris.

"Advance. Kill any further resistance." One of the droids yelled as they flipped a down trooper onto their back and put a bolt between the visors of his helmet.


War Dogs: 36
[member="Darth Abyss"] [member="James Justice"] [member="Desmond C'artyom"]

 

[Darth Abyss]

"Sure it is a suicide mission if you only send droids. But, and I know that comes as a surprise, I am no droid, so you really do not have to worry about me. I have done far crazier things than this."

The shadowy figure of the robe shrouded sith lord entered inside the ship, where he was meet by a number of looks more confused than those the hole in the space stations shell had gotten. [member="Miss Blonde"] knew him well, but not well enough obviously. The next time they would next speak in person, he would've to tell her the story of Abyss the acolyte who crawled through a desert with only one leg left while fighting a sith lord. That had been crazy. This on the other hand was more of a medium risk operation to him. Sure he knew that he couldn't take out the whole station on his own, but in the unlikely case that he either couldn't steal a ship, or blast another hole in the wall and return to his own, he would still be able disappear. He had been trained by the most skilled assassin in the entire galaxy, and he had not left his master without picking up a trick or two.

"So what are you wearing right now?"

The red lightsaber came to live, and his men took position. Abyss could swear that one of them even rolled his eyes over his last message over comm, but he didn't said anything. They never did, and for that he respected his inner eye even more. Their deaths were another main reason why he wanted to get back at the remnant, and also why he wanted to do it in person.

The sharpshooter positioned himself right behind Abyss, using his commanding officer as shield. Not a common practice, but they were a team for years now, and so they were not above using rather unorthodox methods in a fight. The two demolition experts moved behind Abyss, their blaster pistols ready, but they weren't here to fight for the most part. The top end of his group was composed of two men left, both armed with heavy repeater rifles, ready to shoot anyone that would make a move. Abyss addressed the civilians around:

"Run, it is not your blood I am after."

[member="James Justice"] [member="Desmond C'artyom"] [member="Tanomas Graf"]

 

[Tanomas Graf]

"RAAAAAH!"

A fist impacted on the arm of the obsidian throne, causing the volcanic rock to crack under the pressure. The Emperor stood, his advisors adopted a fearful look on their faces. The Black Tie Syndicate was once again meddling in the affairs of the Imperial Remnant, in an act of vengeance due to the successful mission of one of Imperial Intelligence's special agents. "Deploy the First Fleet, I want Grand Admiral Mahan at Void Station. Make sure he brings an Interdictor Destroyer." The Emperor started "Then, contact High General Norinth and tell him to draw up plans for a surgical strike on the Malachor system". Graf paced for a few seconds, considering all of the forces at his disposal, he ran a grizzled hand through his pearly white beard.

"Inform Captain Lennox to prepare the Avenger for hyperspace. I will rendezvous with the Grand Admiral and the Grand Inquisitor at the Station." He finally uttered, his tone stating that there was no changing the man's mind. Tanomas made his way to the shuttle, his trenchcoat whipping around behind him in the continuous storms of Kamino. Once aboard, the Emperor took his rightful place on the bridge of his treasured Imperial II-class Star Destroyer, which made the jump to lightspeed for Void Station.

​

​

[member="Desmond C'artyom"] | [member="Miss Blonde"] | [member="Baron Morcus"] | [member="Butch Mahan"] | [member="Darth Abyss"]​

 

[Klesta]

Onboard the Alexandria, one jump away from Void Station, Yula had yet another discussion with Commodore Julie Jutland, one of the senior naval commanders of the Rebellion, in the CIC of the carrier. Her fleet was also on alert, but would not intervene unless the Syndicate poses such a threat that backup under the form of capital ships would be required. These past few weeks were a little rough for the two of them: Julie was uncomfortable working with Sith, even one that had clear reasons to do evil, and one that held grudges against other Sith, for Yula, Julie was a, pardon the expression, necessary evil. Julie was a critical asset to the rebel naval command, and had to be treated as such among the cell. Commodore Jutland was to stay out-of-system until the local elements are overwhelmed, that much was clear. Measured response was key to engage the Syndicate: they didn't want a repeat of Alexandria. In the Alexandria's CIC, Julie tagged all the ships as Commonwealth property, so the Alexandria would appear as CNS Alexandria on the sensors if they were to engage it.

"Why is it that we turned back out from Midvinter, Commodore Jutland? We could have made the Sith cower in space right there"

"If our intelligence is correct, the enemy army was just a horde of Graug armed with primitive melee weapons. They had no airpower, they pose no real threat"

"We could have had the chance to completely annihilate the Sith army right there on Midvinter! And make them pay for their mistakes!"

"Look: if you may excuse me, the Sith Order's naval command may seem to have a fearsome reputation in the Sith world but I think I could make the Sith they serve cower before me in space. But this would have made you suspect among the Silver Jedi at best"

"Rumors place the Syndicate in this sector"

"You have the authorization to deploy Sith Hunter Squadron to investigate"

Yula then walks into the topside hangar bay, where her fellow pilots, like Pixie Kerral, callsign Fairytale, or Daisy Pammant, callsign Porkins (given because she was among the fattest pilots in Commonwealth service) made the pre-flight checks on their craft before the mission begins. But not all pilots were equally enthusiastic after being denied the chance to fight the Sith on Midvinter, and it was obvious in the expressions of some of these pilots, after their mission orders are given. Sith Hunter Squadron is to investigate rumors of Syndicate activities around the station. It was obvious something was wrong with her pilots because some of them doubted their purpose or the purpose of the mission. If the Syndicate was still having the same tenants, they were still fighting on some level. And it was Yula's first sortie as a combat pilot; her own morale has been affected by the refusal of the cell to actually engage Sith Lords.

"All right, this is Sith Hunter Actual. For this mission, we are to be tagged as Commonwealth craft and to investigate the reports of the Inquisitorius regarding Syndicate activity on Void Station. Sith Hunter Squadron, set your transponders to show as Commonwealth and tag Imperial Remnant craft as friendly; once reverted to realspace, fly under cloak until targets are confirmed"

"But isn't the Rebellion supposed to fight the Imperial Remnant?" Daisy complained.

"The Rebellion is there to fight the Sith Order, not the Imperial Remnant!" she tells Daisy in a tone that is made to make her frightened, while using Force-fear in conjunction with a mind trick.

"The Rebellion is there to fight the Sith Order, not the Imperial Remnant"

"Load the heavy concussion missiles!"

"I will load the heavy concussion missiles"

"Commander, why couldn't we fight Sith on Midvinter?" Pixie asked Yula.

"That is not your business"

"That is not my business"

"I'm not a Sith"

"You're not a Sith"

Heavy concussion missiles were worth two standard concussion missiles, and each Guernica bomb bay, that the Yutans mounted, could mount eight of those. With that said, under the effect of the mind trick, Daisy had to mount each heavy concussion missile on her lonesome on all craft as punishment for doubting the purpose of the rebel cell. The standard issue Commonwealth heavy concussion missile in use in has a 203mm diameter, roughly 2 meters long, and weigh about 120 kg. So Daisy would be grunting pretty hard as she has to repeat the process 80 times prior to takeoff, and use the time in transit in hyperspace to rest. Daisy thinks that we are here to fight the Imperial Remnant, while Pixie thinks that Sith Hunter Squadron's purpose is to fly strafing runs against Sith Lords on the ground, Yula thought. These things could swat almost any attack craft out of space, but were worth a light bomb against capital ships. Against capital ships, Yula knew that it was better to use medium and heavy bombs because of the survivability of the bombers being somewhat limited. Now that a tired Daisy was last to initiate the takeoff sequence, the squadron could actually leave the hangar bay of the carrier and make the jump to hyperspace to Void Station:

"All craft, jump to lightspeed!"

Attack craft:

Spoiler

10 Yutan-class stealth fighter/bombers

[member="Desmond C'artyom"] [member="Darth Abyss"] [member="Miss Blonde"] [member="Tanomas Graf"] [member="Baron Morcus"]

 

[Desmond C'artyom]

Desmond C’artyom and squad made their way out of the barracks. They were stealthed with light bending cloaks and thus moved through the halls of void station mostly unseen. There was trouble in the hangars. A whole platoon of stormtroopers wiped out… They had to have been commando units, probably war dogs Desmond speculated. After all only these could be able to wipe out the Empire's elite so easily and only Miss Blonde was foolish enough to perform such a suicidal feat. Still there were two more platoons making their way to the hangar and Desmond was fully confident in their ability to contain the threat. Alas he was also sure they would not be able to contain the threat for long. Which is why W.O.L.F. Six was being sent in. Usually the elite agents worked in sabotage and subterfuge, but today they would be among the ground forces combating the threat.

Desmond was happy for the opportunity. He and his squad had been out of the hunt for too long and now it was time to begin again. Their was blood on the wind and here true predators prowled. The Chiss agents had only been on a few missions as of late. Mostly working with the Grand Admiral and High Moff Butch Mahan, but still this did not mean they were out of practice. These were trained killers cloned from yours truly. The Chiss agents were heavily armed and highly lethal. Capable in all manners of murder and mayhem. So, when they heard of the trouble brewing in the headquarters of the special forces and not to mention the biggest shipyards in the Imperial Remnant they happily took to the fields. They turned round another bend and found multiple Stormtroopers just outside of the hangar bay engaging the enemy.

Rather than make their presence known the Chiss agents skirted around the fire fight and climbed a flight of stairs to the control room. “Let’s set up shop here,” Desmond said as he raised a fist into the air. Two chiss agents crouched next to the view port. One withdrew a disruptor rifle, the other a pair of macrobinoculars. A classic shooter and spotter. Desmond took up position beside them as well, but he needed no spotter. His cybernetic optics would link to any scope automatically providing him with a wide range of bullet trajectory courses. The agents had also brought another toy with them. A auto turret tasked with shooting any projectiles that came careening their way.

Once the turret was set up the remaining three agents stood guard at the entrance. They had made a nice little nest for themselves. Accessible only through a hard choke point. Desmond took aim at a small cluster of three war droids firing at the Imperial’s guarding the hangar exit. Desmond fired and simultaneously he heard another shot ring out. He watched as his mark rang true and the droids disintegrated as the disruptor’s round broke them down on a molecular level. He scanned the field to see if his counterparts had equal success and found a similarly immolated group of war dogs. He smiled to himself, his men truly were the best sharp shooters out their.

[member="Yula Knezevic"]
[member="Tanomas Graf"]
[member="Darth Abyss"]
[member="Miss Blonde"]
[member="James Justice"]

 

[Erin Thranost]

Erin had been monitoring the view screens for months, hoping to find anything that would lead to miss blonde. He was somewhat disappointed that when the opportunity came, they were ordered to help. His first strike team was on its way, a stolen and modified LAAT, escorted by x-wings, an a-wing, and a tie interceptor entered hyperspace to aid Miss blonde's meager force, when they reached the hanger, they landed quickly, moving into rank. Thirty soldiers in total. Erin order d his forces to follow himto the front, fire only on the storm troopers and all other hostile. If the war dogs attacked a non-hostile, shoot them, he moved in... joining the fire fight.

 

[Miss Blonde]

War Dogs dropped from the fire of a powerful disrupter rifle, it's explosive blue energy rocking the droids sending pieces of them flying through the hanger. But the fight was far from over, and they were not about to let a few Chiss and some bucket heads take them down without a fight. So rather than perform another volley of explosives, they had another idea that would take care of most occupants inside the hanger. Since the fight had started recently, non combat personnel had made a break for it and any innocent life or staff were located deeper in the facility. So what did you do when you were in a hanger and needed to clear it quickly? You vented it.

So one of the War Dogs holding a scrap maker along with another squad quickly aimed at one of the hanger walls outside of the Chiss' field of vision and started to lay waste to a few of the docking ports attached to the hanger. The explosions hammered against the ports blowing them away along with the Ray shield emitters that kept the vacuum from breaking.

"MAGNO GRIPS UP!" One of the droids shouted as air began to rush out of the hanger.

Stormtroopers and random pieces of debris started to fly out of the hanger and soon the Chiss would be able to feel the pull of space, the grip that would lead him out to dance with the stars in eternal night. As for the War Dogs, they didn't have lungs so a lack of oxygen was no problem for them. Maybe if the Remnant had bought Blonde's stormtrooper armor they'd be equipped with magnetic boots and oxygen, and these would be problems that you didn't need to worry about.

"PUSH!!" Now with space pulling out the air in the room, the War Dogs went on the offensive.

With their exosuits making them as strong as Wookies, the droids slowly started to advance on the position up ahead by laying down heavy automatic blaster fire. Although their numbers were now almost cut in half, Blonde's droids were tenacious fighters and killers.

Miss Blonde was just enjoying the show, and chatting with her man while it all went down. And at the sound of Abyss' question she blushed under her mask and let out a surprised cough trying to fumble for words. He was talking like that?! At a time like this!? Was it bad that she liked it? Probably.

"Well, I'm wearing that red dress you like so much." Blonde paused for a moment.

"And if you get home safe, you can take it off me." Yes that was right folks, this was the conversation they were having while bodies were being shot or sucked out into the void. Welcome to the criminal underground.

War Dogs: 28

[member="Darth Abyss"] [member="Desmond C'artyom"] [member="James Justice"] [member="Tanomas Graf"] [member="Yula Knezevic"] [member="Erin Thranost"]i

 

[Darth Abyss]

"When."

Abyss casually correct Blonde over comm, while his red blade began to deflect the first incoming blaster bolts. They troops of the remnant were good, no doubt, but there was still a large gap between a lord of the sith and random soldier #237, and so Abyss had not to much trouble keeping the shoots fired at them away. His weapon almost danced through the air, trying to cover as much room as possible to allow his men to use him as some sort of cover. It was a technique he had learned from studying the Clone wars, where the jedi and their respective commando clones employed similar tactics in close quarters. With the force he pulled the small, handheld scattergun from a hidden deposit in his boot, into his left and hand, and began to return their fire with the precision of a sith that had split his combat training almost equally between marksmanship and lightsaber dueling.

The small projectile scatterd into a small shrapnel hail, after meeting the armor of the first trooper, while his two soldiers on his flanks opened fire from behind cover, sending short burst of bolts at the enemy instead of blindly firing into the group. From behind Abyss back, the sharpshooter, standing slightly ducked, released a single, precise shoot, punching a hole into the helmet of another trooper.

"Time to move it. Capture one of them, he shall tell us where the life support system can be found. You know the drill people."

And so the group began to march, slowly and planned to allow the two guards on thr flanks to hop from cover to cover to secure their way forward. At the same time the two demolition experts began with the second part of the plan, attaching explosives to wall behind the group which could be started via remote. They would continue to do this to offer a distraction, once the time came that they had to get out quickly.

[member="Miss Blonde"] [member="Erin Thranost"] [member="Desmond C'artyom"] [member="Yula Knezevic"][member="Tanomas Graf"] [member="James Justice"]

 

[RIP Carlyle Rausgeber]

Carlyle Rausgeber boarded the FIV Malice as the Defender blasted off with a large portion of Carlyle's fleet. Below them sat the Galactic Imperial Regulators Headquarters, from where Carlyle had held negotiations. The Commodore found it far more comfortable on this ship than the Defender. The Malice had undergone extensive modification from the Commodore, and was to undergo some more when the officer found the resources and the clout to do such things. The officer walked through the Malice's cramped hangar bay. In order to accomodate a secondary hypermatter reactor for the engines and shields, the hangar capacity was halved. Carlyle wasn't bothered as he disembarked from his shuttle. Awaiting in front of the upsilon class shuttle was the Malice's Captain, Artemis Bragg and a party of stormtroopers who stood to attention. "Commodore, we've just received word of an attack in a nearby system."
"An attack?" Carlyle asked aloud, "Where abouts?" he asked.

"A sector from here," The captain replied, "Some form of engagement with a space station from what we can gather. Possible pirate intrusion."

"Set course for that sector Captain," The commodore barked, "We shall do well to show that the First Orders dominance extends everywhere." Carlyle ordered, "Prepare the jump to lightspeed, and await my orders."

"Understood Commodore." Bragg replied, moving to the nearest turbolift. Carlyle followed to a different turbolift shaft to the Communications Suite. He needed to file a report for Dosuun.

Fleet Composition:
1x Heavily Modified Resurgent
2x Imperial-x Star Destroyers
4x Denial-class Anti-Fighter Frigates.

[member="Miss Blonde"] | [member="Tanomas Graf"] | [member="Darth Abyss"].

 

[Desmond C'artyom]

Desmond C’artyom started to take aim at another group of wardroids. He zoomed in on the squad of enemies. His reticle lined up with the war dogs head. BANG. His shot was met with pleasing results, as another group of war droids disintegrated. But, suddenly another vessel flew into the hangar and admitted more enemy troopers. Des shook his head. How was it that these ships were able to sneak past Void Station’s defenses? Nonetheless such a small strike force was no match for the full weight of the Imperial army.

By now the second platoon of stormtroopers had arrived and with proper sniper support they were beginning to spill into the hangar itself. They had the enemy at a choke point. They would have to force the Imperials past the blast doors then fight through the two pronged corridors. In which they would be effectively surrounded and systematically destroyed. Abruptly the Chiss were met with a fierce wind and a rush of air as the vacuum of space seeped into the hangar. It seemed the war dogs had been up to their usual tricks. But, just as soon as it started it would end as the emergency blast shields were activated.

Desmond picked himself up off the ground and checked to see if his squad was okay. His squad’s life signs showed up green and they were all accounted for. Des could not say the same for the Stormtroopers who had began to make their way into the hangar. He tried to imagine them floating listlessly through the void of space. He knew standard stormtrooper armor came equipped with fifteen minutes of life support, but that was more to simply keep them calm in the event of an emergency such as the one. He shook his head in dismay, but it did not take long for the troopers within the corridors to come peaking out.

Most of the cover had been sucked away and now it seemed it would be a good old fashioned shoot out. The stormtroopers exited the confines of the halls and broke off into small squads as they did so. Each laying down suppressive fire for the next. Desmond began to take aim at another group of wardogs and fired. They disintegrated abruptly and the Chiss smirked. His shot was echoed by another as his own squad mates began to fire as well. Another group of enemies fell and the Stormtroopers advanced.

[member="Carlyle Rausgeber"]
[member="Darth Abyss"]
[member="Miss Blonde"]
[member="Yula Knezevic"]
[member="Tanomas Graf"]
[member="James Justice"]

 

[Thraxis]

Another day another credit in the back pocket. This was the motto Thraxis had to justify his actions with if he ever had a need for such a trivial pursuit. James had hired his gun for another job, something about a void station. He wasn't sure what he was getting himself into, he never managed to get around to the dossier, mainly because he was cold and needed some kindling. He lacked a ship, he lacked an army instead he decided to simply jump aboard James' he could handle any space battle better with one ship then Thraxis could with an entire fleet.

In the dark recesses of the cargo Hold a single hammock laid out sprawled, a black mass folded out, a hand outstretched over the side hanging with a single digit his armaments all tucked into a single Yellow Duffel Bag, though the yellow paint had long since faded into a pale black complexion. The smell of age-old liquor permeated the air around him, choking most creatures with a sense of smell as he drifted in the recess of a false sleep. A natural reaction, his fingers pressing up and down against his black armor as a soft patter of finger tapping resounded around him, his Comm flicking on and off with an incessant buzz before finally, his form shifted out of his false sleep. "Godamn it I am tired of waiting..." he groaned pulling out a clock ticking at the time, "He hired me hours ago, what the hell does he want from me?" he inquired as he dropped the clock down, its circular form quickly becoming nothing but a mass of wires and metal carnage as it shattered on impact.

With a flick and a switch his Comm flickered on permanently, brought up to his mouth his voice shifted and gurgled through his Mask, "James, ya hired me to kill stuff what the hell are we doing on a ship?" he questioned with a fevered pitch, growing impatient he escaped from the confines of his bed, much to the chagrin of the workers who paced back and fourth in the Cargo Hold, trying their best to not be caught in the noxious gas of alcohol and blood that permeated around him like the cold winds of a mountain. As he paced himself out of the Cargo bay he headed straight for James in what he assumed was going to be the cockpit. If he wasn't there he was in his bedroom bedding some stripper he found laying drugged up on the side of the road and that wasn't a sight Thraxis was ever eager to see.
[member="Darth Abyss"] [member="Miss Blonde"] [member="James Justice"]
[member="Desmond C'artyom"] [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"]
[member="Erin Thranost"] [member="Yula Knezevic"]
[member="Tanomas Graf"]

 

[Miss Blonde]

[media] https://youtu.be/MirA_r2EsvQ [/media]​

It was violence. Pointless and ultimately meaningless violence. Droids could always be replaced, they were just ones and zeros streaming through a husk of wires and metal. But people, once they were gone, that was forever. In truth, secretly. Blonde hated this, she hated the act she had to put on. She hated killing people, she hated every single moment of this. But the mask, the money, the lifestyle and power. It was all too much to give up, it provided. It gave her children a quality of life that made them live like kings and made them want for nothing. It all just too much money to walk away from no matter how much she wanted to, and she'd fight to keep it that way.

So when the images of War Dogs strangling, breaking, or stabbing Stormtroopers came on her feed, she silently wept. Her feelings weren't going to change what she'd done or what she would do, nothing would change that. The light of explosions and blaster fire continued to flash off her visors as she sat in her chair and watched it all unfold. War Dogs continued to fall and Miss Blonde watched as one of her droids threw down its spent weapon and tackled a trooper to the ground. Once atop the trooper, the droid started to pummel the troopers head. Each augmented metal punch caved the trooper's helmet in a little more until Crimson started to spurt from the cracks, his former friends watched in horror as they unloaded blaster bolts into the machine's back and sides. But it was too late, the machine simply kept going as the squad formed around them trying desperately to save their comrade.

The droid then collapsed to its side and before it did the machine pulled the pins on its grenade belt and erupted in a fireball that consumed the squad of Stormtroopers. Blonde's feed turned to static and she hung her head in deep shame and regret. These were feelings that she could never let Abyss see, he knew her as strong and capable. The Galaxy as a whole feared her and saw her as a unhinged woman who'd kill an entire planet for looking at her the wrong way. But the truth was she wasn't any of those things. She was just a girl who got in too deep and couldn't get out.

"I'm sorry." Blonde's voice shifted to one of deep sadness in Abyss' earpiece. It was unlike her, a tone he had only heard very few times. But Abyss could feel that maybe he wasn't the one she was apologizing to.

When the feed swapped back to Another droid's mounted head cam, they were still locked in an intense fire fight with the Stormies. Bolts were being exchanged every which way and Blonde continued to watch. She had to, this was her life. This was her hell. This was her punishment.

War Dogs: 22

[member="James Justice"] [member="Darth Abyss"] [member="Tanomas Graf"] [member="Yula Knezevic"] [member="Erin Thranost"] [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"] [member="Thraxis"] [member="Desmond C'artyom"]

 

[Darth Abyss]

"Sorry for wh-Wait hold that thought."

Abyss message to [member="Miss Blonde"] was cut short by a pained grunt coming from behind him. A blaster bolt had passed the siths saber, and almost missed the sharpshooter behind him. Almost. The man still had a nasty burn on his right shoulder, but luckily it was only a surface wound and not much else. Again he addressed Blonde, but this time with a lot more focus invested in keeping away the shoots fired by the new stormtroopers that seemed to arrive every time they killed one.

"It's okay, I will live."

The sharpshooter gritted his teeth and pressed the words through them when he noticed the slight shift in the angle of Abyss head. They had suffered worse, and like all of them he would push through his pain and carry on with the mission. To underline this, the man lifted his sniper once more, placing another headshoot on the group of approaching soldiers.

"Whatever is going on with you, we should talk about it but later. But right now I need Blonde, and not ... you know. Sorry."

He had picked up on her tone, and it worried him, but as much as he would've loved to have deep, insightful talk with her right now, he sadly had a few matters at hand that had to be dealt with first. He had a plan, but Blonde had to do something for him, and she had to do it quick, because he had no idea who long they would be able to continue their assault like this.

"The Void station was underworld property right. So someone in the underworld should have blueprints or something similar. Any idea how long it would take you to find them, buy them and send them to me?"

The escape route he had in mind was called air vents, the oldest infiltrator trick that existed. And not only that, air vents had a connection to the live support systems of a ship or station in many cases, so they could be also a good way in.

[member="Thraxis"] [member="Desmond C'artyom"]b [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"] [member="Erin Thranost"] [member="Yula Knezevic"] [member="Tanomas Graf"] [member="James Justice"]

 

[James Justice]

James knew Blonde, and she had a few things that were signature--War Dogs being one of them and this level of style being another. She had tricks up her sleeve, sure, and even if she didn't, well he had his own. While everyone was sitting around chopping off heads, smashing droids, sitting in cargoholds griping about getting paid to sit around, and sucking each other into the void of space, he was tapping away at the keys on his console. He tapped into the Black Tie's comm, the encryption he was privy to for his work with the group. He tapped in just in time to catch Abyss' remark about the blueprints.

"Ye know, I normally dun't hang around after things dun't work out with a lady," James cut in, his voice slightly scrambled by the encrypted comms--but honestly who wouldn't recognize that accent? "But today be ye lucky day, mate. The Runner gonna take ye to paradise."

A few seconds over the darknet and a few thousand credits later gave the Spacer just what he was looking for. Everything was for sale for the right price, after all. Everyone wanted something and one kid got a kidney in exchange for these plans.

"Looks like everyone is a winner today," he muttered to himself before switching his mic back on, "Alright, mate, transmitin' to ye now." He checked his scanners, "No promises about how long I will hang around, mate. I got stealth, and they got incoming. Looks like a crap ton of hullage headed our way."

"My lord, The Ugly Pink One is screaming again, something about not knowing what to do," one of the ensigns reported.

James sighed, running a hand over his scruffy beard, "Let him in the prison hold if that keeps 'im happy. I got a couple murderers I were gonna learn good, but he can have 'em now."

"Of course, my lord."

[member="Darth Abyss"]
[member="Miss Blonde"]
[member="Thraxis"]
[member="Desmond C'artyom"]
[member="Carlyle Rausgeber"]
[member="Erin Thranost"]
[member="Yula Knezevic"]
[member="Tanomas Graf"]

 

[Van Bri'tsyd]

"Feth I hate waiting" Cody said as he stared into void.

Orders to this point had been pretty straight forward jump to these coordinates in deep space and wait for final delivery orders.

"Why did she ask us to deliver them here?" asked a junior officer.

"When the lady offers you 20 million credits you don't ask why, you bring her the ships she bought and thank the stars for your good fortunes." Cody replied.

In truth the Coronal knew more than he was letting on. The pay was well over the cost of the ships and fighters even at full retail. No there was going to be a catch. What it was they had little idea, but judging from the signals coming through the squawk box thing were getting hot less than half a light year away. Hopefully these clanker crews she had chosen to man her newly ordered ships were up for the task whatever it is. But until they learned what she had planned, all they could do was sit and wait.

Fleet Composition:
(9) GR-125 M1 "Gun'oi" - "Long Death"
(12) GR-105 "Cru'sis" armed Transport
each with one squadron of Gallofree "Freetaa Dos" (Death wish) Fighters
(6) "Kiyiy" Model GR-75 Medium Transport - Carrying full holds of proximity mines

[member="Miss Blonde"] | [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"]

 

[Asharad Graush]

"You know I love killing people, Arvengis. Legally, I'm not allowed to execute those that represent the First Order."

Arvengis shrugged in response.

"The Imperial Remnant is the closest thing I can get to killing Imperials." There was a pause. "Seal the armour for me." The Sith Lord paused. Around him were many other soldiers, armed and ready in heavy duraplast armour. They were the warriors of House Graush. Excellent warriors who had fought in the surprise attacks all across Tantorus and Vitiate buildings, and some had even been One Sith Troopers, so it was evident that they were all experienced, though from soldier to soldier it varied.

"I don't understand the reading I'm getting," the pilot said in the cockpit.

"What do you mean?"

"There's... Um, there's... a-uhh-uhm, already a terrorist attack on Void Station."

"What?"

"What of your plans, My Lord?"

Wasted, A'sharad thought to himself, though he didn't say as much aloud. Arsaud merely enjoyed testing how far he could get before A'sharad drew his lightsabre and cut him down.

"Our plans will only be hastened. Micro-jump us closer."

"Yes, of course, My Lord."

It was good that the soldiers on this ship were loyal to the Sith Lord, that they were prepared to die for him, or were merely good at acting like they were, for A'sharad wasn't in the mood for any more disappointments. All he needed were the Sith forces he had brought with him to create a distraction long enough for him to immerse himself with the station's population, even if they were already on edge. There were already terrorists there? Well, all it would mean was that there were more targets.

"Plotting coordinates. Almost got them."