I Don't Care Whose Battleship I'm Boarding (Wide Open)

[Ashin Varanin]

STAR DESTROYER​

UNKNOWN TYPE​

UNKNOWN ALLEGIANCE​

UNKNOWN LOCATION​

(FEEL FREE FOR IT TO BE YOURS)​

(UNLESS YOU'RE FRINGE OR MANDOS)​

(HEY, MAYBE I DO CARE AFTER ALL)​

​

The old Atrisian Empire drop pod slashed through the hangar shields like a twinkie through your mother's third diet of the month. In a very literal sense, the Fringe Confederation had assimilated the Atrisians for that drop pod tech, the field disruptors that let them pass through shields. Ashin had contemplated using the drop pod for a hard run against the bridge, but in the end a drop pod was only a drop pod, even with thruster packs welded on. The hangar had been the best she could do.

She carved her way out of the crumpled pod, shoving chunks of transparisteel with the Force. Her lightsabre cast a yellow radiance over just about everything in the hangar bay. It glinted off fighter viewports clear on the other side. It made her want to reach out and touch something.

Alarms began to blare, their volume filtered by her Tenloss Warrior Helm, a smooth professional death's-head in red and black. A heavy blaster bolt slammed into her gut and drove her back half a step, warming her belly through the phrik plate. She batted the next bolt out of the air and punched it through the trooper who'd sent it. The impact was a death-knell, a starter's gun. The hangar descended into chaos, the kind marinated in panic and indignant fury. The interplay of emotions rolled over Ashin, but she only felt cold.

Outside, a space battle was in progress. She had no real, functional allegiance to either side; she'd barely noticed their telesponders. The skirmishes of governments weren't her business anymore.

Ashin raised her lightsabre and waded into a storm of blasterfire, making her way toward the turbolift.

 

[Jacen Cavill]

[member="Ashin Varanin"]

Boom!!

His fist flew through the man's head and the wall behind it, sparks and gore flew as his arm went through the durasteel. Reaching through, he grabbed the soldier he felt through the Force and ripped him through the wall in display of physical might. Screams sounded as he stopped the shots coming towards him, Daesumnor his weapon and shield. Smoke and the flickering lights in the hall impeded their vision as he threw the man on his back and impaled him through the chest with the alchemical creation.

Cavill could feel the sword feeding, and he smiled.

Why he was here was a mystery, he was simply here for the Hegemony. What he was going to do while here was much more clear. Yellow and red eyes fell on the soldiers who were struggling to find the two meter tall monster. Sharp, chiseled features grinned ear to ear for but a moment before leaving. Gone was the happiness, in its place was the deadliest of weapons in the galaxy. It wasn't a sword,a blaster, a ship, or the Force. No, this weapon was the true key to the Sith Lords prowess in battle.

It was focus.

That world destroying rage focused, and it channeled itself around him. Spencer Jacobs herself had taught him to protect himself with the energy of life. So he took that energy, and channeled it with his anger. Instead of him being a pawn, he became the central axis of the universe. Sickly eyes looked at his opponents with clarity, and he felt their fear and their dread. Instead of running, they opened fire on him. His blade became a blur as he took a two handed grip and started marching.

Soon they would feel his wrath, and so would everyone on this ship.

 

[Lina Ovmar]

(NOT A MANDALORIAN ANYMORE. CAN'T STOP MEH!)

Alarms screamed above her head, the ship rocked throwing Mia from her bunk. Somewhere her comlink was shouting through the already noisy quarters. She found the earpiece, on the floor with a great deal of her other belongings. Feth mercenary work. She slid it into her ear and began collecting her weapons. "Five minutes sleep. Five karking minutes and already you're yelling at me because somethings wrong."

"The Captain needs you in the hangar."

"The captain needs to increase my pay packet if he wants me to function without sleep." She slung her sheath onto her back, sliding the beskad into place.

"We've an intruder on board."

"Give a kark? One intruder. Deal with it." Holsters tightened about her thighs, bolters glinting in the low light.

"We are failing miserably at doing so."

"Right...Force user?"

"It would appear so."

"Send me the feed." A holoprojector flickered to life to her right as she slid combat knives into her boots. She knew that face. She'd know that face anywhere in the galaxy, [member="Ashin Varanin"]'s face wasn't one you forget easy. Mia blew out a heavy sigh and said nothing. "Monroe?"

"I'm not gonna lie to you, you're pretty karked. But if you've any chance of slowing this, might as well send a tank against a tank. Keep me posted on her movements, i'll try and cut her off."

"There's another one..."

"Alright! Alright! I'm on my way! One at a time though if you please."

[member="Jacen Cavill"]

 

[Wes Redtree]

[member="Ashin Varanin"] [member="Mia Monroe"] [member="Jacen Cavill"]

When life was a string of battles fought for credits and little else the chance you would find yourself in a bad situation with little to hope for was often to be expected, and the knowledge that your next breath may never come was an ever constant reality. Such was the case yet again as the drop pod of unknown origin crashed into the hanger of his employer. The air filled with smoke and the distinct scent of scorched air as the beings that could only be force users (and strong ones at that) began to wade into his employer's less that stellar security teams. Wes clutched his Mandalorian made shatter rifle's buttstock to his shoulder, the hard rubber fitting into the hollow of his shoulder.

He blinked over the sights as he sat above the catwalk and aimed down at the lead masked being. Sight picture and sight alignment became optimal as the fighter in the rack beside him began to slowly power up. His finger felt like it took ages to tighten on the trigger but it was the work of a moment as the dull womp of the shatter rifle was drowned out by the noise of the fight below. The round projectile erupted from the barrel and careened for the first creature who was enslaved to the force and headed for center mass.

 

[Ashin Varanin]

Dimly, Ashin felt [member="Mia Monroe"]; more immediately, it seemed [member="Jacen Cavill"] was running a boarding op of his own. She wasn't one to make friends -- understatement of the era -- but she'd encountered both. She'd even been the one to pull Cavill's Darth name from the aether for him, him and Menoetius. That recognizance was distant, and didn't mean an awful lot to her. Her mind was entirely on the lightsabre. She walked quickly, even with her limp, her sabre flickering around her with as much precision as the times she'd fought Emperors and Grandmasters. Shii-Cho, her form of choice, wasn't especially wonderful in this kind of scenario, but better than some. And neck-deep in precognitive instinct was the only way she caught the shattergun fire. Blaster bolts moved fast. A shot from a man-portable railgun moved somewhat faster. It slammed into her blade, jarring her arm and shoulder. The slug melted and spattered across her phrik plate in a fraction of a second.

Tactical sense whispered that she needed to move and move fast. But between plate armour and repeated knee injuries over a very long career, fast wasn't in her repertoire. Her specialty, for which she'd sacrificed just about everything, was close-in defense, so she pulsed her Force protection to life. A thin aura of distortion sprang up around her, blunting a stray pair of blaster bolts; their plasma splashed across her backplate. Without ongoing focus, it would fade in seconds, long enough to cover her while she dealt with the shattergunman. Her free hand gestured, and the catwalk began to close around [member="Wes Redtree"]. Railings first -- sharp where welds broke, or bludgeons where they didn't. The deck warped under his feet, twisting to enhance the likelihood that a lateral movement might send him over the edge one way or another. She took no real pleasure in trying to cut off his options; that was just how these things went. Between crushing the gantry and trying to anticipate a second shot, she didn't have time for self-examination.

[member="Spencer Jacobs"] was around here somewhere - the queen of crowd control. And crowd control was what this hangar needed.

 

[Lina Ovmar]

"They're tearing us apart-"

Blaster fire joined the orchestra of bad noises, shattergun rounds cracked and the groan of metal warping under pressure gave Mia a terrible feeling about all of this. She entered a room overlooking the hangar, caught the glimpse of a lightsaber blade and groaned. "Di'kuts! Stop using blasters! You're just giving her ammunition to use against you!" You'd have though the galaxy would have learnt by now. But no, they weren't listening to her either, fear had set in. The kind that made you ignore whatever was being shouted in your ear and just empty your clip into whatever was coming at you for the pure and simple fact that, it made you feel better.

Bad, very bad.

"Captain, deactivate all turbo lifts, seal all blast doors leaving the hangar and three more after it. The more obstacles you stick in your path, the slower they will tear this ship apart." She drew her beskad. "Maybe think about an evacuation plan." She pulled the comlink from her ear, focus was required. She drew in a breath, shallow but powerful enough to release a short bellow that shattered the transparisteel that separated her from Ashin and jumped the rest of the twenty feet down and began bellowing orders.

"Pull back! Find cover!" she swing a kick at the leg of someone who had frozen. "Move!"

Ashin was occupied, so Mia made a point of getting notice with a simple move. Telekinetic shove of crate into the back. The beskad twisted in her hand a small smile finding its way to her face she gave a mocking bow. "Su'cuy gar, Ashin."

[member="Ashin Varanin"]

 

[Allyson Locke]

Hanger with the Peeps: [member="Mia Monroe"] [member="Ashin Varanin"] [member="Wes Redtree"] [member="Jacen Cavill"]

Spencer was behind a corner shoving a granola bar into her mouth. She had forgotten to eat dinner before all of this had happened. Ashin had said it was going to be quick and clean and they were going to have a fancy dinner after this. Guess no date night. Sighing softly she continued to chew and then the sound of a rail gun went off. Blinking quickly, the thought of dinner quickly escaped her mind and she moved into action. The woman who was rarely armored made a straight line to where Ashin was fighting. The mess around the Hanger was going to be fun and probably now her time to shine.

There were two things she needed to accomplish here, one protect the people that seemed to be on her side and two knock a little sense in the people who were against them. She decided to go with objective two first. Quickly as she made her way towards Ashin, her mind quickly zeroed in on those around her. They were preoccupied and would suddenly feel a sensation crawl over them. A trained Force Horror would be sent through the Force to those that were opposing Ashin. The only named targets she knew of was the man that was shooting at Ashin and some woman who seemed to be in charge. After the quick out lash of the Force, Spencer stood near Ashin a few feet away from her. Switching the intent of the horror to a Force Valor. The Valor was focused on Ashin who instead of feeling the painful effects of the Force Horror, would feel an empowering sensation of clarity and focus.

“I'm here~”

From where she stood and appeared, she was in the way of the crate which crashed into her and forced her to a knee. Frowning, she stood back up and waited to see what Ashin would do from here. "You owe me a new date night by the way."

 

[Jacen Cavill]

It was over.

For the soldiers who had been brave enough, or in this case foolish enough to stand against him. Clad in his armor, his heavy steps echoed in the narrow corridor. Klaxons sounded, beating against his ear drums. A quick flick of his wrist wiped the blood off Daesumnor, the blade's eternal hunger still beating against his own consciousness. The blade was sheathed, and he adjusted his gauntlets before pressing further into the bowels of the ship.

Soft scratching noises could be heard as he walked farther from the confrontation in the upper decks. He could feel three force signatures, two of them he knew and one was a stranger. Whatever [member="Spencer Jacobs"] and [member="Ashin Varanin"] were up to, he felt a small bit of pity for whoever had the displeasure to face them. A simple shrug was barely visible under the heavy armor, and the equipment.

A few button presses later, he was riding the elevator down.

Ding!

Arriving at the reactor, he put on the mask of Nihlus and pressed forward.

[member="Mia Monroe"] [member="Wes Redtree"]

 

[Wes Redtree]

[member="Ashin Varanin"] [member="Mia Monroe"] [member="Spencer Jacobs"] [member="Jacen Cavill"]

There was a joke in his old unit that the best way to deal with a force master was orbital bombardment, suddenly it wasn't nearly as funny to Wes as his sniper position began to turn on him. The rifle was a powerful weapon and a precision instrument he had earned during his brief job for the Mandalorians as they moved to bring order into their space, but when he had a choice of keep it and be slowed down or drop it and perhaps survive to take another job someday he wasted no time.

The rifle fell to the gantry as he leaped over the twisting railing toward the next catwalk below. His body, far from as young as it once was, hit feet first buckling knees as he tried to combat roll across the durasteel grating in an effort to absorb the impact. Ears, long since suffering from moderate hearing loss, began ringing once again and his knees he was sure would be screaming at him for days if he ever left this hanger. The taste of copper came alive on his tongue and he knew its meaning all too well.

If his body's displeasure in his recent course were not nearly enough, his mind began to revolt as well. Memories that plagued his sleep and drove him to the use of more than one controlled substance began to rise, no, explode into the forefront of his mind. The faces of long dead brothers and sisters filled his vision as they began to scream curses at him for letting them die alone. Men women and children of too many kinds to number came to remind him he was their murderer and that no uniform was excuse enough to end the lives, the precious lives they once owned. He couldn't know it was by the influence of the woman beside his recent target, how could he? He experienced this more than once before, only not while awake nor on a job. His options to his horrified mind were limited to scream and clutch his head as he slowly fell unconscious then be at the mercy of his employers opponent's, or pull his side arm and finally end his own misery.

The ambassador pistol was nearly under his chin when the pain and horror stole his chosen action and he pitched himself over the catwalk toward the women below. Groping fingers clawed madly for an A-class thermal detonator that held to his H-harness as he fell but through eyes blinded by pain and tears and with hands cramped from mental stress he could not hit the actuator before impact stole the air from his already burning lungs. Instead he writhed in agony on the cold deck plates at the mercy of beings that likely knew no such emotion. If he left this ship, he now knew, it would not be on his own terms.

 

[Ashin Varanin]

You would have to be deaf to miss [member="Mia Monroe"], but the inability to turn quickly was part of being half-crippled and fully armored. The crate caught Ashin in the back as intended; the phrik plate spread out the impact, but her head whipped back and she went sprawling. Her knee buckled under her. She landed on the deck right alongside [member="Wes Redtree"], stray blasterfire zipping above them. Her lightsabre landed between them, rolled a little and was still, its emitter pointed in such a way that its blade would project between their faces if the weapon activated.

And there it was -- the superlative moment. Two scarred, experienced fighters, each down and in pain, with a deactivated lightsabre and a thermal detonator between them. The lightsabre requested her attention, but the detonator demanded it. She didn't so much as gesture, just looked at it, and the ridged sphere went flying. There was a chance he'd armed it, a larger chance that Monroe would be able to use it in some way, and a non-negligible possibility of total disintegration. She'd faced down a thermal det's baradium blast exactly once, and it wasn't an experience she was anxious to repeat, not with this much pain. Nor did she have the spare moment required to start a crucitorn thought-pattern.

One moment, one task. The detonator ascended past the walkways like a child's toy rocket-

Spencer, get DOWN.

-and slammed into the ceiling of the hangar.

Everything, absolutely everything, went white. Her helmet's eyepieces filtered out the worst of the light, but the hangar's ambient temperature rose sharply, warming her through her plate. Baradium disintegrated everything within a certain radius, and a class-A had the largest radius of all -- corresponding to the height of the hangar ceiling, plus about a metre. The sphere's closest point was a curving surface of white fire just above her; if the soldier stood up somehow, he'd lose everything above the waist. Monroe was nearby; maybe the baradium radius would take off her head before it dissipated. Ashin didn't have another moment to claim. No split-second attack on Monroe, no time to snatch up the rolling lightsabre hilt. For this instant, she was pinned to the deck by a serious fear of death, her knee was an inferno, and the hangar ceiling was basically turning to well-charred dust. Once the baradium blast cleared, there'd be a semicircular chunk missing from the decks above. If she survived the fallen soldier and the former Mand'alor for the next few seconds, that could be the way to get farther into the ship.

[member="Spencer Jacobs"]

 

[Lina Ovmar]

Mia could walk through fire, she could shrug off the pain of a serious wound and she could stand toe to toe with powerful sith lords, but she had no mental defense. Nothing to prevent the onslaught from [member="Spencer Jacobs"]. Faces flickered past her minds eye, her tormentors, Nemene and Daxton. Flashes of pain rippled through her as scalpels glinted in bright light while whispers of her failure burned through her mind. She tried to shut it out, to ignore all she'd suffered and lost, all the pain all the fear.

Fresh pain rippled through her knee, as she hit the deck, trying desperately to see what was here and now, trying so hard to fight against the horrors of her life. Find the source. She blinked and the world went white, heat searing up her back as flesh melded with the cloth. Fire danced across her back as she bowed close to the floor and covered her head. Pain brought her senses back to this world and as the heat subsided from the room, it began to burn in her heart.

Mia lifted her head, eyes glowing. She turned her gaze slowly towards Spencer's hiding place and let out a force scream that blew crates aside like they were paper. She forgot Ashin, she forgot her job to protect the ship. She staggered to her feet, crucitorn subsiding the pain of the burns that disfigured her back. Beskad tugged into her hand by the force she moved towards the mentalists position.


Mia Monroe was pissed.

[member="Ashin Varanin"] [member="Wes Redtree"] [member="Jacen Cavill"]

 

[Allyson Locke]

It was a good thing she was trained to keep the emotions of the room under control. If she didn't know how to protect herself, she'd be on the ground in pain after feeling what the others were feeling. Her mind focused on keeping the horror going, it was until Ashin's voice - the only thing to break through her concintration shouted at her. "Down?" The concept made no sense until she watched Ashin and the detonator. In an instant as the weapon exploded her entire frame stood near Ashin and her focus now was on protecting Ashin - by protecting herself with her own defense.

Tutaminis. Spencer focused every square inch of her body to dissipate the energy she could pull from the blast. The armor heated up and she could feel her flesh underneath begin to sear. When it was enough, she used some of the energy absorbed to cocoon Ashin and herself with the Force. Things settled and Spencer opened her eyes, her vision blurred for a moment as her nervous system stood on end super charged - she had to release it soon.

"Take this and I'll cover you." Spencer tossed Ashin a small stim pack hopefully to ease some of the pain long enough for the woman to start crucitorn or something. Footsteps clanked in the back of Spencer's mind. The Force scream echoed in her ears and the debris from the crates smashed against the force barrier. Someone was very focused on her and she felt the death glare on the back of her head. Her ears finally stopped ringing Spencer stood. Turning towards [member="Mia Monroe"] she nervously smiled. Ashin had spoken about her, the woman was something not to be messed with. Giving Mia a wave, she released the force energy that had been condenced in her body. The energy manifested in her hand several small spears of Midnight Black. A flick of her wrist and the spears shot towards the advancing Mia Monroe.

[member="Ashin Varanin"] (I'll tag the rest when I'm home.)

 

[Lina Ovmar]

There was enough debris in the hangar now for Mia to from a makeshift sheild, pulling crates and ceiling panel peices together in front of her. One slipped through whistling past her face, carving a fresh scar across her cheek and shredding part of her ear. Mia was a soldier, she was pumped full of adrenaline and she knew she had not time to think about her wounds.

She snapped her hand forward, propelling the sheild towards Spencer's position with frightening speed, using it to hide her movement as she sprinted forward. She needed to get in close. Mentalists tended to be lacking in close quarters. Diasble Spencer, and she'd have a better shot at Ashin.

[member="Spencer Jacobs"] [member="Ashin Varanin"]

 

[Wes Redtree]

[member="Jacen Cavill"] [member="Ashin Varanin"] [member="Mia Monroe"] [member="Spencer Jacobs"] ((Sorry, this working girl couldn't find time.))

He writhed on the cold durasteel flight deck as the episode faded. His pale eyes flickered trying to hold on to conciousness as the detonator he vaguely recalled having turned the upper hanger and several decks above to a combination of gases and smoldering metals. The lives above likely never felt their ends as they were simply wiped from the galaxy.

He finally squinted through his eyelashes as he did a mental evaluation of his condition. He was bruised, had minor concussion and possibly cracked ribs judging from the taste of copper in his mouth, but the bitter-sweet realization he was not yet dead meant he still had a contract to honor as well as a daughter that needed the credits sent home. His hand slid slowly to his blaster, careful to keep the appendage close to his body, and silently slipped it from its holster. His eyes that so far had been as closed as possible opened wide to take a survey of the goings on before closing again as he counted just the two women against the crew of the ship and a fellow mercenary he had yet to meet.

With a burst of motion he rolled on to his side and took aim with his last sidearm, a sonic holdout, and fired at the masked force being. There was no malice, no anger to be seen in his eyes, just the cold thousand yard stare of a man doing his job...whether he liked it or not.

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Mia Monroe"][member="Spencer Jacobs"][member="Wes Redtree"]

The sonic shockwave crashed into her like getting punched in a dozen places at once. The sealed Tenloss helmet cancelled the sound and kept her eardrums intact, but the shot was still the definition of visceral. It shoved her along the deck, farther from her lightsabre, armor skidding against the durasteel hullmetal. The phrik plate left scratches on the deck. She tumbled once, then got control and clambered to her feet. Molten slop dripped around her, burning her armorweave cape.

The Force warped around her, shaking off the liquid metal and repelling a handful of stray blaster shots. A precaution; her tumble had given others the time they needed to draw down on her. Rather than strike, then, she bolstered her defenses while taking stock of the situation and the best ways to get farther into the ship. Or to cripple Monroe.