Freedom in the Outer Rim [ORC Dominion of Karazak Hex]

[Zef Halo]

LOCATION: Hangar near slave pens
OBJECTIVE: Break smuggling ring, make arrests?
TAGS: [member="Jin"] | [member="Dash Kessler"] | [member="Sortz"] | [member="Yula Perl"] [member="Gray Venasir"]

“Then stop bailing me out and make me learn my lesson for once. Oh wait—then I wouldn’t be around to save your ass from pirates, now would I?”

He was going to protest but she had a point. Yula shut him down good. A slight red wave ruddied across his face in embarrassment and Dagon was only able to roll his eyes.

“Hey, careful what you call Corellian junk—our grandpa is Corellian junk.”

"That he is." The detective muttered with a joyous smirk. If anything, Yula could find humor in everything, similar to their mother.

Dagon observed the new arrival and barely overheard the dialogue going between the Togorian-like enforcer and the hired smugglers before Yula was in action. The dart she sent found its target but things weren't going to become any easier. Prior to that, the detective had marked the two smuggling ships and sent them to the ORC forces in space, just in case. Additionally, his location was shared to allied forces requesting reinforcements.

The issue was - they didn't have time to wait for reinforcements.

Time to bluff.

His heart paces madly at the idea. Adrenalin rushed through his veins and he barely told his sister:

"I will need your Jedi spells for this to work." Dagon didn't bother to explain anymore as he stood out of his cover, badge in one hand and blaster pistol in the other.

"COALITION POLICE FORCE, STAND DOWN, YOU ARE UNDER ARREST!! DROP YOUR WEAPONS RIGHT NOW!! Y'ALL BEING SURROUNDED BY ARMORED PERSONNEL AT THIS RIGHT MOMENT. TRY FIGHTING AND YOU WILL BE SHOT!" The detective's voice boomed through the hangar. "STAND DOWN AND YOU WILL GET A FAIR TRIAL!"

Yula, please don't get me shot.

 

[Gray Venasir]

Location: Hangar near slave pens
Objective: Don't get killed
Tags: [member="Dagon Perl"] | [member="Jin"] | [member="Dash Kessler"] | [member="Sortz"] | [member="Yula Perl"]

It dawned on Gray as soon as he heard 'heads'. It was slaves they were going to smuggle. Gray zoned out for a second, cursing and trying to plan in his head while the other smuggler talked. It looked like the guard were tight at this Place, so shooting his way out was out. Maybe try to fool the cat, saying he was going to get them to the Darth, only to free them once he was on his ship?

But he was brought back to reality when the cat-man fell to his knees. As he yelled, Gray instinctly grabbed his gun, in case the attackers didn't just go for the leader. And then his hopes were shattered, by the cat saying he had already confirmed the delivery of the slaves. "Kark," he muttered. What would he do now. Trying to stay cool, he turned to the smuggler duo to reply to the exclamation that they were working for slavers. "You don't say, greenie"

And Things didn't get better when a man came forth, announcing he was part of the Coalition police. This was not a good day. Trying to think fast, he came up With an idea. The Darth the slaves were to be delivered to didn't know what the slaves looked like. "Ay, cat-man. The police was not in the job description. I want double payment. The slaves are delivered in crates, right? Give me Three, plus the same amount of guards as escort to my ship. It's in the hangar Next to this." If Things went acording to plan, the guards would soon be having New jobs for a certain Darth.

 

[Cathul Thuku]

Objective: Military action
Allies: ORC
Enemies: Cooperative

"Battle stations!"

"Your orders, admiral?"

"Get underneath the enemy, have gravity wells centered on their largest ships, and have cluster missiles fired from outside point-defense range, on their aft quarter if feasible"

By now everyone that fired cluster missiles in Therapy Command would know about why they ought to be fired from outside point-defense range, and that's mostly because the bus would deploy the submunitions from outside PD range, too. But unlike the then-First Order (or the CIC of today since their high-level personnel were ex-FO officers) the Cooperative doesn't rely on large, ponderous ships as much. Yet this made cluster missiles all the more critical since the submunitions, regular concussion missiles, were more nimble than their buses. These were able to target multiple fighters at once, or multiple areas on the same capital ship, and occasionally multiple ships at once. But the drawback of being below the enemy's plane meant that the ventral guns couldn't be brought to bear, and the broadside guns' elevations only allowed them to fire at targets on their flanks, and not directly overhead. For now, Therapy Command had one advantage, temporary in nature, and the rest of the battle will see how much of an advantage it actually was.

 

[Yula Perl]

LOCATION: Hangar near slave pens
OBJECTIVE: Jedi spells apparently
TAGS: [member=Jin] | [member="Dash Kessler"] | [member=Sortz] | [member="Dagon Perl"] | [member="Gray Venasir"]

“My Jedi what?” Yula snorted, looking halfway between amused and worried. “What are you about to—”

"COALITION POLICE FORCE, STAND DOWN, YOU ARE UNDER ARREST!!”

Her eyes nearly bulged out of her skull at Dagon’s bold move. After all, smugglers loved police. Yula barely had time to call him a dumbass before she felt the urge to fling herself into the middle of the conflict. Partially to protect her brother, and partially because she wouldn’t be any use as a sitting duck.

Vaulting over the crate, Yula sailed through the air and landed somewhere on the vicinity between Jin and Gray. “Just so we’re clear, I’m not with that dork.” With a grunt of exertion, she extended both hands and sent a wave of Force out from her center in hopes of knocking some of the enforcer mooks over, or at the very least, pushing them back.

“Ugh.” Resting her hands on her knees, Yula panted for several moments. Use of the Force didn’t come as effortless to her as it did to others, especially when you neglected to practice. “Okay, okay.” Straightening out, she retrieved the saber hilt from her belt given to her by Uncle [member="Dax Fyre"], and thumbed on the ignition.

An orange blade thrummed to life, which she brandished in a charismatically careless manner.

“You’re still under arrest, though.”

 

[Gand]

Objective: Military Action
Location: Joyous Reach
Allies: $$

The Gand had spent three days in the ammonia mists of his home planet. It was a spiritual experience, connecting with the mists. As a Frindsman the Gand consulted the mists, asking it where to go next. The homeworld, though Gand did enjoy it, had no promise of future there. Instead, the Mist told Gand to head to "Joyous Reach". It took Gand nearly a month to discern what that meant, but now he found himself on Karazak. The ORC government was paying for blastmen to help fight a local organization of slavers. The Gand was hunting the streets for their leader. If the Gand could capture her, ensure she did not escape, then he would bring in a small but needed payday.

After all, his ship's water filters went out two days before he arrived.

The time to move was now, the Gand could feel it in the air. His senses beckoned him west, so westward he ran. The Gand pulled out his rifle from its sling and kept it close, before a blaster bolt hit the ground a half meter from his foot. The Gand dove into cover and turned and eye leftward, finding a quartet of Karazen Slavers. The Gand fired three times, hitting twice, then returned to cover as more bolts plastered the walls. The Gand clicked twice, then turned over the cover once more to fire another three bolts, bringing the other two Slavers down. The Gand rushed over to their location, eager to take their speeder bike, and began heading northeast. He would meet his prey soon.

 

[Kyle Farnes]

Objective: Still the Tank, Start shelling the base

As one of the Mandalorians who were… there was a word for it, exiled, or just away from Mandalore, and focusing on their own lives with their special upbringing, Kyle knew that he could help out the Coalition. And that was exactly what he was doing. Getting placed in charge of some of the heavy weaponry wasn’t anything that was unheard of for someone with his background. Sure, he was more of a scout when it came to traditional Mando culture, with lighter beskar, but he still was a combatant.

Even if he would rather be out there guarding the space lanes. He threw himself in with the Coalition following his tenure with the Alliance in Exile, and he felt pretty good about that decision. Sure, he needed to upgrade his Pursuer, and YT-1300. One for racing around and another for taking the fight to where it needed to go. He was currently deployed with the CR-90 FarStar known as Firestorm, as it allowed the Alliance to get around.

But today, it was tanks.

As they closed in on the location, he nodded and pulled his helmet off, to allow himself to integrate to the tank a bit easier. A dark grin on his face as he moved the turret and began shelling at the wall of the base. And he noticed the attention his tank was getting. Allowing the pilot to pivot the tank, the heavier tools of war came up and began to return a more concentrated fire.

Have to love the Alliance.

 

[Zark San Tekka]

Slave Pens​

Search and Rescue​

[member="Cyran Vaas"]​

"Hey, what the-hrk!"

Mynock buried the sharpened piece of rusting metal into the slaver's midsection, driving it home like a spear. It knocked the wind out of him before it killed him, ensuring the Underground agent's recent escape remained a secret for a little while longer. Dubrillion tried not to kill if he could help it as a general rule, but he was willing to make an exception here and now for slavers and anyone who dealt with them. After yanking the impaled guard's disruptor and tossing it away, Mynock found what he was really after. It wasn't as nice as his vibroknife but as daggers went it wasn't bad.

He thumbed the ultrasonic field generator ignition to test its condition, and for the first time since he landed on this rock he smiled at the sight of warping metal.

A gun would make too much noise, bring the heat down on him. It would cause a scene, and Mynock had a different sort of scene in mind. There was still nine and a half minutes until the next guard patrol was due by his count, so he put every second to use sawing through as many slave cages as he could manage. Perhaps it was cruel, setting these people free when so many of them would die in the uprising. But if his contacts in the Coalition came through like they said they would, there would be no better time to stand than now. Either way, Dubrillion had had about enough of captivity and he needed a distraction.

"Stop right there, whelps!"

Mynock turned. The guard was half a minute early. He raised a disruptor to fire.

Mynock threw his blade.

 

[Sortz]

Objective: Not get arrested (getting shot optional)
Frand: [member="Dash Kessler"]
Everyone else: [member="Jin"] [member="Yula Perl"] [member="Dagon Perl"] [member="Gray Venasir"]

She looked down at Dash, rather nonplussed.

"Oh."

Things went, rather quickly and gloriously to hell. Between the slaver's enforcers busting into the room and apparent law enforcement shouting to put their hands in the air, Sortz realized that they were in one hell of a jam and it could get much, much worse. She frowned, the expression tugging her lips around her tusks.

Sortz wasn't really a planner. She certainly wasn't a leader. Mostly? She just wanted things to be quiet and to be left alone.

But sometimes, there wasn't that luxury.

"Sorry, Dash," she ducked her head, muttering against his ear and then her hand went up, and Dash went down.

Drop your weapons indeed.

"Don't worry. We surrender. Yup. Absolutely."

But as she said that, she stepped forward, over Dash, so she was between him and the gun toting lunatics. At this point she didn't really care about the cat's opinions. Civic lessons from a slaver? About that. If she had to pick between a death mark and selling people to other people, honestly it wasn't even really a question.

Ugh, [member="Daro Tarsi"] was gonna be mad at her for it though wasn't he?

"Run," she muttered out of the corner of her mouth. Glancing down and behind her, catching Dash's eyes. Eyes casting, indicating. If she had to, nudge him with her heel. If he didn't run, she was hoping he'd at least do SOMETHING with the benefit of a meat shield. She wasn't picky but if he didn't act fast, well, let's just say she actually had no intention of surrendering she just wanted them to get their guns off of her partner so he could act.

 

[Dash Kessler]

Location: Underground Hangar
Objective: @&%#?
Officer & A Gentlemountain: [Member="Sortz"]
Primary Opposition: [Member="Jin"] | [Member="Gray Venasir"]?
Secondary Opposition: [Member="Dagon Perl"] | [Member="Yula Perl"]

Holy Kark.

Talk about runaway hover trains. First Slavers and their talk of Sith, now the karking law was sticking their nose in. This deal was quickly spiraling out of control in all the worst ways imaginable. The hell was the Coalition doing out here in the first place? Karazak wasn’t exactly a hot bed for peace, justice and mom’s muja fruit pie. He had to think… There had to be someway out of this, some clever trick or ploy that would allow them both to slink away in the confusion. He just needed to think of one.

'Coronet City shuffle? No, not enough time. The Nexu Game? Where would he find a wig and a dress at this hour? Come on Kessler, think. You got this. You got this. You--- Wait, what was that?'

“Did you just apologize?” Dash blinked, staring up at Sortz uncomprehendingly. “What do you have to be sorry abououuuu-”

Uncomprenhension quickly melted away to genuine surprise as the world came abruptly crashing down around the spacer (or should that be he came crashing down around the world?), hitting the roughly hewn rock flooring of the hangar bay with all the poise and none of the grace of an ungainly sack of tubers. If later asked to recount his story, he would have to leave the high pitched, completely understandable and manly ‘ahhhhh’ that escaped him as the air rushed out of his lungs. And maybe the fact he spent the better part of ten seconds just blankly staring up at the ceiling while he tried to work out what the flying kark had just happened.

Fortunately, it also gave him enough time to come up with a plan - or at least a really shoddily composed idea. Honestly, that drop had kind of rattled his brain more than a little and this was the best he could come up with at short notice. A half-shebbed plan was better than no plan, right?

“...For anyone interested, I’m okay.” He grunted, taking the opportunity to roll on to his side and half stagger, half raise himself to one unsteady knee. Thumbing his blaster to the highest setting with one hand, redlining the ionic concussive force into the realms normally reserved for EMP hardened battledroids and unruly Wookiees, while reaching into his jacket pocket with the other. Flashing what could have been confused with an identity card at a quick glance before shoving it back in and struggling to his feet.

Kark, if he wasn't seeing double.

“Fahl Sename, Sector Police. This is my partner, uh... Tseudo Nym.” Dash lied with a woozy glibness, attempting to bolster his delivery with an angry turn and pointed finger at the Jedi and her plucky looking sidekick. That’s what people in authority did, right? Yell and pass the blame? “You ORC karkers just ruined a perfectly good sting operation nine months in the making! What, you guys too good to read the dispatches? This is our collar. ”

He spun on his heel again and almost losing his balance right there. Steadying himself at the last second with a hand on Sortz’s elbow as he stepped around her to confront Jin and his enforcers. Hoping to high heaven that the ORC Judges weren’t blowing smoke about those reinforcements. Piling a lie on a lie would really suck right about now.

“And don’t even get me started on you, fethers. Seriously. Selling to the Sith? What is this, amateur hour? Everyone knows they don’t honour their deals.” He shook his head, gesturing loosely with his blaster. “Whatever. Do what the pink dork said. Hands up, weapons down, spread them like you're short on rent day.”

 

[Racket]

Military Action - Getting on the Ground
Location - Close enough to [member="Gand"] , anyone else looking to have a good time

High Orbit, Karazak System, Outer Rim​

Cigarette smoke hung in the air that filled the cockpit. It moved in fluctuation like a thick cloud of gas. Filth never felt so good. Blood shot eyes stared into the vibrant screen that displayed a message. Yeah sure those orders were simple.... getting on the ground; not so much. "Why are we doing this again?" Racket had forgotten to adjust Karen's voice feature functions. The voice feature on his ship mainframe wasn't wrong to ask though.​

​

"THeY PaY aND i GeT To KiLL! Do You eVeN KNoW Me BY NoW?!!! TiMe To GeT My FRaCK oN!!!!..... aND.... 3,2,1 LeT'S KiCK iT!!!!! aaaaaaaRRRRGGGHHHH!!!!!"​

​

Fingers gripped, palm ripped, throttle down; BLAST OFF! Racket's ship engaged the fleet of ships disobeying direct orders. Trigger fingers flipped just in time to unleash ropes of ammo into the ranks of the enemy fleet. The cigarette between the Racmeer's lips Burned Bright as Racket inhaled sharply right as he flipped the steering mechanism sending the ship into a barrel role. The onslaught was a sight to see. You remember. You were there. Enemy vessels scattered to avoid the kamikaze death vortex. A few weren't so lucky. The spinning vessel shot through the fire and debris as it broke through the ranks and shot towards the planets atmosphere.​

​

"Atmosphere breach in 5, 4, 3, 2,1. We have breached the atmosphere...... You can stop shooting." ​

​

"AaaaaaRRGGGHHHH" ​

​

​

The crazed pilot released the triggers but continued to barrels towards the surface.​

​

"You're being detected. Incoming."​

​

Wrist slammed the mechanism down sending the ship into a semi somersault, avoiding incoming fire, and punching the ship into an upside down war path headed northeast. Switch flipped and autopilot took control. "You know how much I love it when you put me into harms way then leave me to deal with it." The Racmeer couldn't hear the words that echoed in the cockpit as he had jolted through the ship and was up close and personal with one of his Boom Boom Big Blaster noise makers. The crazed furball's finger twitched the trigger. That's all she wrote for the upside down speeders.​

​

"BRiNG uS aRouND THeN SeT YouRSeLF DoWN SoMeWHeRe SaFe. DaDDy'S GoTTa Go GeT HiS FRaCK oN!!!"​

​

In no time he was on the ground. Racket kicked one of the corpses from the speeder that wasn't smoking. Gripped it, ripped it, dust kicked from his rear as the Racmeer punched it towards the structures that had registered in the distance.​

 

[Zark San Tekka]

QUEEN OF AIR AND DARKNESS​

KARAZAK SYSTEM​

THE TRANSPORTER​

[member="Sortz"] | [member="Dash Kessler"] | [member="Dagon Perl"]​

[member="Yula Perl"] | [member="Gray Venasir"] | [member="Jin"]​

​

"What do you mean, under arrest?"

The Prince's voice was calm, but there was a fury in his eyes that left little question as to the danger his messenger was in.

"Th-that's what the transmission said," his devaronian manservant stuttered, desperation tinging his voice.

"This is slaver's bay," he snarled.

"The Confederacy? Or Judges, maybe?"

Ifan ben-Mezd, better known by his pseudonym the Prince if he was known at all, was beginning to grow frustrated with lawless space. It had seemed ideal at first, and there was no denying that his operations on Point Nadir and Spice Terminus were extraordinarily lucrative. But it was all too messy, nothing like the casino on Cantonica. Say what you will about Zygerrian table manners, they would have never allowed an embarrassment such as this to occur on their watch.

"There is a Sith Lord on Bastion waiting for his merchandise," Ifan pursed his lips, "We must not disappoint our new clients."

"Surely the Sith will understand," the devaronian chuckled nervously, glancing around for a means of escape, "After all, these things do happen. Do they not?"

He rose to his feet, and when the manservant moved in closer to be of assistance, ben-Mezd slipped a monomolecular stiletto in between his ribs. Savoring the look of surprised horror and agony on his subordinate's face for an instant, he allowed the alien's body to sag to the office floor and scowled at the mess its pooling blood began to make on the decor.

"Hakar!" he called, delicately cleaning the blade of his stiletto with an embroidered handkerchief.

"A wasste of resssourccesss," his chief lieutenant commented dryly upon the scene.

"I want you to lead a tactical team to the surface and reacquire my property."

"Are you cccertain thisss isss the wisssessst courssse?"

"Do it!" Ifan yelled.

 

[Ladro]

KARAZAK SYSTEM​

THE TRANSPORTER​

Sortzhttp://starwarsrp.net/user/18351-sortz/ | Dash Kessler | Dagon Perl​

Yula Perlhttp://starwarsrp.net/user/19049-yula-perl/ | Gray Venasir | Jin [member="The Prince"]​

​

​

Silent breaths passed the assassins lips as he crouched in the shadows. Fumbling footsteps approached in unison. A vocal pattern unfamiliar to his own ear echoed through the corridor. The words translated through the com built into his hood.​

"Tactical Team will have Cargo in route to Jin's location just as scheduled."​

​

The last slave in the batch walked by the shadows. Silent footsteps sprung the assassin's assault upon the under trained transport team. Within moments the dance of death was over. Vibro daggers had sliced through the flesh of the unsuspecting guards that now lay motionless on the floor. The slaves began to shout. God he loved being the hero.​

"We're not out of the fight yet boys."​

​

A knee dug sharply into the dead alien's chest who had spoken into the comm links. A vicious swing and a slice of a vibro blade relieved the arm from the creature's husk. The forearm control pad the creature had been outfitted with now in the hand of it's enemy. Ladro sliced through the mainframe hacking the comms of the enemy before setting the slaves free. In a flash Ladro was in a dead sprint.​

​

"Tactical Team incoming. I repeat Tactical Team incoming. Enemy comms are broadcasting live on channel 28947801"​

​

BOOOOOOOOOM​

​

Two thermal detonators blew the hallway that he had just been standing in to shreds. The shock wave of the blast sent his body flying through the air towards the hanger door he had just been trying to get through. Ladro heard the sound of a *swish* as the doors moved out of the way just in time. His body fell to the hanger floor hard tumbling harder for ten yards before coming to a stop. Sometimes it was better to be lucky than good.​

 

[Kyle Farnes]

The tanks had continued to start shell the walls and Kyle was making his way down from the hovertank. Grabbing his rifle, and hopping down to the ground, Kyle moved forward. “Baskets, we’re going to move inside, tanks get ready to receive the slaves and civilians. Assault team, we’re going to be weapons free. Strike hard.” He brought his helmet down and moved his rangefinder down over his eyes.

Seeing that there were armed soldiers coming at him, Kyle almost grinned as he trained his rifle on the team and squeezed off a rapid fire burst. The soldiers scattered and Kyle activated his personal shield as anti-personnel rounds came at him. Pushing the control on his wrist, he pushed power from the jetpack into the shield. Tapping the voice controls, he shouted over the commlink. “Assault team, move ahead. I’ve got the gate.”

When the rounds came to a close, the Mandalorian was switching the blaster rifle’s mode from blaster to propelled explosive and powered up the shield a second time. Waiting for the reload, he used his rangefinder to target the tower. A pull of the trigger and the explosive was launched, on its path.

 

[Sortz]

Objective: Not get arrested (getting shot optional)
Frand: [member="Dash Kessler"]
Everyone else: [member="Jin"] [member="Yula Perl] [member="Dagon Perl"] [member="Gray Venasir"] [member="The Prince"] [member="Ladro"]

Oh. Dash's plan was way better than Sortz's.

She watched, every line of her tense, eyes casting back and forth to see if they were buying it.

It was a shame they wouldn't get to find out.

BOOM

Sortz wasn't particularly quick on her feet usually. But she'd been wound tight as a clock and as soon as the explosion happened? She found herself moving. More instinct than intent, she pivoted, her arm hooking around Dash's waist (again) and tugging him up and under her arm.

"You'vebeenagreataudiencethankyou!"

And Sortz ran.

Granted, the Tro'zet wasn't particular fast. And her back offered a wide target.

If they were lucky? The explosion would have distracted everyone enough that even slow Sortz could get them out of here. If she wasn't lucky? Well.

It was a wide target.

 

[Kalak the Raykkan]

Location: Tunnels of Karazak
Objective: Samples!

In truth Kalak found slavery despicable.

"A little bit to the left, Dwayne." The Raykkan muttered to the Dalan tree next to him. Who whined, but shifted the torch while trying to turn away from it as much as possible. Their bark was hardened yes. But it would only take a few licks of ember for it to go up in flames. Kalak didn't seem to see that- or mind it. Anyway. Slavery... despicable. Making a sentient property, taking away their ability to build something of themselves, to claw their way up the.... food chain.

Indentured servitude is the true way.

Dwayne probably disagreed.

It didn't take long for them to find their way to the meeting place. An inter-connection between various tunnels. This was where the Karazak Slave Cooperative truly did their work. Underground, in winding tunnels, away from the sunlight. That was exactly how Kalak liked it himself. If only they weren't slavers. Maybe they could have been of use to the Makesh Cartel. Oh well. "Ah, there they are." Kalak exclaimed, before pointing out the ragtag group waiting in the clearing for them.

They seemed rather desperate.

Which Kal couldn't blame them for, of course.

Their fortunes had rapidly reversed since they made the appointment. Followed by Kalak setting foot on this planet. Followed by him descending down into the tunnels. "Gentlebeings, hello!" The Raykkan said with a bright, teeth-y smile.

Most of them -- heavily armed and enforced as they were -- seemed to be less than charmed by that smile.

"A fine day, is it not?" That smile grew six inches sharper and predatory. "For anyone that isn't you, that is."

 

[Peyton Steele]

The problem with slavers, is that they kept scattering. Like sand flies, or cats. Transitioning into a posting of the Underground, the Alliance lieutenant always knew where her loyalties lie, but with the way the Alliance was moving and the needs of the Coalition? She was making the choices she was. And it was all in line with the needs and choices of the Alliance. They were more centered on their own worlds and reclaiming Sullust, not exactly a place for an agent.

But being out here, on Karazak? Watching the slavers was something that she could do. Her ship was landed but the agent herself was in the bar. Listening to the chatter going on, she nodded. There were a few things that she was picking up, and the main one? Finding that the Coalition was still here and they were working on a few things.

“Another round, keep.” She shouted as she tapped a few credits on the bar. Looking over her shoulder, she saw two pilots checking their datapads. Tapping her own, she was hopping to pick up a bit of the communication they were reading.

She did know, based on the thoughts the others had, that there was an evacuation being called. And she was hoping to make it into that convoy.

 

[Cathul Thuku]

Objective: Military action
Allies: ORC
Enemies: Cooperative

"We're taking fire!" the chief engineer reported, while the enemy finally began to return fire.

"Don't panic: they have incurred some firepower kills and debris are being attracted onto them by gravity; repeat!"

Of course, firing a braodside volley under these conditions meant that the flanks would be hit hardest by the turbolasers and other unguided weapons fire, leaving the center to be hammered by missile fire, both from the capital ships and the cluster missiles. As usual of nearly every enemy that didn't rely on smaller monitors, smaller ships were on the outside of the formation, so smaller weapons were hitting more often than the heavier turbolasers and HVCs. And they sustained enough firepower kills to make the larger ships in the center more vulnerable. Sure, not every submunition inside the cluster missiles would hit, but the whole point of cluster missiles was to make it so that a higher fraction of the munitions would hit. With the order of repeat being given, it was perhaps a lazy way out but it meant that there was no change in targeting. Nothing in the tactical situation that would warrant any significant changes, even with shields being hit at a steady pace. Just that, with each contact disappearing from the scope, both friendly and hostile, the battle was unfolding in orbit, while Therapy Command was still below the enemy plane, and the enemy might try to change its orientation, but it did so at their own risk.

 

[Yula Perl]

LOCATION: Hangar near slave pens
OBJECTIVE: Tackle the big woman
TAGS: [member=Jin] | [member="Dash Kessler"] | [member=Sortz] | [member="Dagon Perl"] | [member="Gray Venasir"] | [member="The Prince"]

Wait, so they were cops? Ugh, great. More officers with sticks stuck up their backsides. Unless the scruffy guy was lying. In all fairness, Yula didn’t really believe him. Not after she’d been tricked by that FO agent on Skor. Which sucked, because she really wanted to be friends with him.

Then the explosion happened, which was not an uncommon thing to happen in the Outer Rim territories. There was equal probability that an ally or an enemy had caused it.

The green lady had snatched up her companion during the commotion and was jogging off. From somewhere behind her, she heard shouting. Her focus, however, was on the retreating form of the Tro’zet.

“Hey!” She called, sprinting after them. “We aint finished!” A grunt of exertion and a bit of Force prowess sent her flying through the air, aiming to land squarely on the woman’s back.

 

[Zef Halo]

LOCATION: Hangar near slave pens
OBJECTIVE: idk anymore arrest myself at this point
TAGS: [member="Jin"] | [member="Dash Kessler"] | [member="Sortz"] | [member="Yula Perl"] [member="Gray Venasir"] [member="The Prince"]

​

​

Before Dagon could even think about replying to the cop under cover, an explosion rocked the whole place sending the nimble detective crashing into nearby empty crates.

The whole world spun around him as he barely caught his sister Force jumping straight at-

What a bad idea.

Why jump at the wall?

Jump the short one instead.

Why tho?

Really?

Space Je's Us, my head hurts as kark.

"Youreallunderarrest." He muttered unsure whether that reached anyone's ears. His hand barely erected upwards holding the cop badge in his hands.

 

[Zark San Tekka]

KARAZAK HANGARS​

THE TRANSPORTER​

POV: HAKAR​

[member="Sortz"] | [member="Dash Kessler"] | [member="Dagon Perl"]​

[member="Yula Perl"] | [member="Gray Venasir"] | [member="Racket"] | [member="Jin"]​

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Hakar caught the scent of fear and desperation through the acrid smoke that was now beginning to fill the hangar.

His six man tactical team wasted no time in pushing ahead through the haze and rubble their shape charges had violently excavated. Black market GLX Firelance rifles coughed ion bolts, dropping recently liberated slaves wherever they ran. The trandoshan fixer hooked a passing escapee by the flat of his double-blade, sweeping the desperate sentient's leg out from under him and sending him sprawling onto the hangar deck. Without hesitation, one of the elite Exchange mercenaries fired an ion burst at the fallen slave point black, ensuring he would stay down for the time being.

"Ssspread out. Cover the exitsssss," he gestured with his blade at other possible escape routes, "You two are with me. Take them all, we'll sssort out who isss property and who getsss ssspaccced when we're through."

Hakar paused, forked tongue slithering out of his mouth. He had caught a scent on the air. It was the smell of lawmen. Prey.

"We've breached the compound," the reptilian hissed into his ear comm, "Tracking the insssstigatorsss now."

"Do keep me apprised," the Prince's voice sounded grainy in his ear from all the comm traffic interference, "Orbit is getting awfully busy. I'd hate to have to jump without you."

The trandoshan grimaced, knowing too well that this was a fool's errand. He couldn't challenge his boss, so Hakar was determined to take out some of his frustrations on whatever fools had caused the Exchange to have such a bad day. He didn't know whether to blame the new hires' pathetic sense of morality or Jin's incompetence, but someone was going to pay. Threats aside, Ifan would not leave here without his pound of flesh.