Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Meddling in the Affairs of Dragons

[media]https://soundcloud.com/risingphoenix23-1/its-my-turn-to-fly-the-urge[/media]​
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Rishi Maze
Manda Merchant Route

Not to be confused with the Manda; the warrior afterlife of the Mandalorian religious system - the actual planet having the same name had, from it's own population, birthed out a merchant route that had been in operation for millennia facilitating trade routes through the hyperlane. It was a well established and often used navigational throughway from the Mid-Rim to the Outer operating within the boundaries of a celestial anomaly that had at one time been a major focal point about fifty years before the Battle of Yavin. A dwarven galaxy slowly decaying and spreading out while in constant orbital rotation within the confines of the current proper Galaxy. Its own inner workings had granted it the name of the Rishi Maze, and that title was apt. Navigating through that cloud of debris allowed some of the best kept secrets to reside out of sight, save for the few brave souls who'd trek through such a dangerous and unpredictable location. Housed within the maze were a number of clandestine dealings including an energy mining operation that was just shy of being caught into the depths of a nearby black hole. Firebase Alpha had on contract several of the more daring, laser-brained, and daft pilots in the verse running jobs for them to keep their enterprise running efficiently. Among them, a renegade from the Jedi Order turned transporter for hire; Harland Gates.
Four years had come and gone for the spacer barely aging the Nyriaanan more than a couple lines added to his ruggedly handsome visage. Four years since he had returned to find his best friend in the Galaxy to make sure she was alright. It'd been another five years since they had seen each other at the time and the reunion had gone about as smooth as a Rancor's backside. Kiskla Grayson at the time was the reigning Grand Master of the Jedi Order - a title which honestly shouldn't have surprised Hal; but a lot had changed between them and for themselves. Picking back up where they left off was never going to happen, and yet despite their massive differences and viewpoints on particulars, they somehow managed to find that familiar space again. Somehow the spacer had even managed to survive a trip to Dagobah with Grayson, confronting a literal embodiment of the dark side. Fething lucky is what he was walking into that mess and being able to walk out. Times had changed, and the Galaxy had shifted once again, in a constant ebb and flow that had turned the tides of war and peace respectively. Gates had no loyalty to a side anymore, other than his ownself; his true guiding star. Kiskla would always be his best friend, and likely the only person in the verse who'd give a kark about him no matter how far their diverging paths took them. Hal hadn't come back to join back into the ranks, but he did stay and lend some support where he could. Eventually he got sick of the protocols, and the problems that were literally none of his business. He had no stake in the game anymore, and setting sail back into the black was all he wanted to do.

This time however Hal had managed to keep in contact, sending transmissions back and forth with the blonde, so that whenever they'd get together again the reunion might be a bit less turbulent. Getting back to the don't ask, don't tell policies he kept for transportation and other odd jobs, Gates fell into that familiar scoundrel routine. He did jobs, got paid, and generally found himself in worlds of trouble on a regular basis. That's what made him special though. While he had certainly made more enemies than friends - there was something to be said for his reputation about getting the job done. It was never pretty, always a haphazard mess when he was done, but he did deliver. Harland Gates gets the job done - that was the word of mouth that spread from one end of the Galaxy to the other, and he enjoyed that reputation. Firebrand Alpha also found it desirable, and thus the job that had commissioned him for was taking the brigand pilot down the Manda Merchant Route and into the heart of the Rishi maze.

Swirling teal and aquamarine clouds encompassed the Wild Goose as the hyperlane trade route bent space and time around the vessel to thrust it between two points in a mere fraction of the time required to traverse such large distances. The cockpit remained void of the pilot, set with the nav point making steering a useless endeavor at this point. Standing in the cargo bay of the modified HWK-290, Hal checked the isotope readings on his secured package, ensuring that the cooling system housed inside the crate was operating on point. Whatever he was carrying was dangerous enough to warrant the extra bells and whistles, which only meant that the payout was that much more substantial. Though the thought of having a ticking timebomb in his ship was a little disconcerting, but not the worst thing he'd transported either; not by a long shot. A moderate klaxon sounded from the cockpit, alerting Gates to arrival status. He subsequently dropped the datapad back into the slot of his payload and slid the Merr-Son blaster into his hip holster.

"Hey hey, Goose is playing my song. Time to get paid." The spacer commented aloud turning on his heels and strutting to the cockpit. Hal slid into the comfortable captain's chair lined with a Grov pelt for added comfort on long trips. "Looks like I might actually make port early, first time for everything." Gates knuckled a few switches into their opposing positions before he grabbed the yoke as the cloud of hyperspace ripped away to bring the Wild Goose into the open black abyss of space. In the distance a mesmerizing aura of light blue gases hovered in the thick void. Pin pricks of light dotted the horizon as Gates steered the craft into the direction of the maze itself. "Now let's see what the maze has in store for us today, shall we?" The spacer addressed no one but the non-sentient craft he piloted and had clearly bonded with over the years. Suddenly a dark shadow swept over the transparisteel, plunging the Goose into abject darkness. "The feth is....?" He didn't even time to finish the question as the entire ship rocked to it's right side, jostled by some kind of heavy impact. Proximity alarms blared from the control panel as Gates tugged on the yoke to steady himself to try and make sense of the commotion.

[member="Loske Matson"]​
 
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[SIZE=11pt]“I see it too, doesn’t make sense...” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“This has more recorded heat than any bogie we’ve registered thus far. Keep a smart head, kid.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“That’s partly [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]your [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]job, you gotta give me enough information for me to be able to do something about it.” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]A disgruntled beep was Frank’s response, followed by another scolding comment; “I do that, and yet here we are.” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]He was, of course, referring to Loske being on a paid suspension. This was her second one, since the incident where she thought it’d be perfectly safe to have a total rookie to fly in battle. She’d been right, [member="Choli Vyn"] had risen through the ranks without any hindrance. Still, the overlords didn’t love that choice and she'd been kicked out for two weeks to consider what she'd done. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]This time, she hadn’t handled the news of a new family, and that new family not necessarily wanting to hang out with her all the time, particularly well and had acted out a bit during some training practices. A psychiatrist had deemed her unstable and traumatized and required her to take some time out of the threshold of battle. Which, in her opinion, was a terrible assessment. When she was in the skies, knocking bogies out of the way and challenging them to games of chicken she was the purest form of herself. In fact she had quite literally been made for that. So, she was picking up some explorative contracts; charting routes ahead of time for larger ships to see if there was any worth in them setting their crews down to do some charting and exploration. Similar to the work she’d done with G.U.I.D.E.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“The readings are pretty much entirely organic...” a pause “How mad do you think the science brains would be if we tracked down this thing first? New alien technology, can’t think of anyone better to reign it in.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“I’m going to ping your father..”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Don’t you dare pull that card.” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]It was a new card, that Frank only pulled out when something was going to go foreseeably wrong. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“I’m just keeping eyes on it. A totally organic lifeform in space? That’s worth not losing. Make sure you’re recording it’s movements too -- might be worth taking back if it’s got something we haven’t seen before.” The Alliance’s pilots were unparalleled, but if this thing could evade the lieutenant, then it was worth documenting. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]"I'm picking up un-organic readings, stay alert."[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]"Keep the cannons cool until we register it as a bogie. See if you can run credentials; it's coming in awfully close with that unregistered organic." [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]From a distance, Loske and Frank witnessed the bumping of the unidentified flying object and [member="Harland Gates"]' Goose. [/SIZE]
 
A crimson red cloud enveloped the sensory array that offered a digital readout of the Wild Goose's physical structure, moving like a great serpentine glob displaying a radiating heat signature moving over and around the craft like some kind of mutated space slug. The proximity alarms blared continually which was hardly a shocking surprise based on the amount of jarring and jostling Hal's ship was experiencing. Stress on the wings made them flex as he tugged on the yoke, trying to fire up thrusters to get out of his sudden onslaught. Through the semi-lit cockpit; only dull shapes and shadows could be made out as a creature of significant mass drew itself along the exterior, negating the Goose's ability to pull free.

"Hey no free rides ugly. Goose just had her paint job, and you ain't ruining it." Gates called out fruitlessly in his captain's chair giving a firm bang on the transparisteel. Refusing to give up however, the spacer flicked a few switches on his dash and above his head which re-routed power from the Ion canons to surge over the exterior of the ship as a wave of pure energy, which arced current into the beast that had entangled itself across his hull. Another tremor echoed through the small freighter as the creature reeled back, letting it's body unwind from the ship, disengaging it's hold before sending it's tail in an arc, slamming the Goose on the side, which sent Hal into a full barrel roll. Gates slammed to the side, groaning from the force of the impact. He was shaken, but he wasn't going to give this mysterious creature any quarter. Digits gripped the yoke and he pulled back, firing off the thrusters to right his position sending the HWK-290 straight from the conflict with a blaze of teal energy exuding from the rear. Apparently that only pissed the unknown entity off, as it gave chase after the Goose with eyes ablaze set on it's mechanical prey. "Didn't like that did ya?" Hal admonished with a cavalier grin on his face, sweeping to the right while he kept tabs on his readouts for proximity. "Nothing like an ionic charge to clear out the sinuses." There was no way Hal was going to dive straight into the Rishi maze with something like this haggling his six; which signified his intent to meet this thread head on. Most ships like his weren't arrayed with weapons, but he'd put this one together custom for just such an occasion.

The nimble craft arced into the black, rising upwards and then completing the maneuver with a half twist to right itself and lock onto the target. Hal locked his sights on the beast that came into a view a bit better from this distance. Large diaphanous wings wafted like satin curtains as the segmented force of it's belly shifted propelling it along after the Goose. The hard sharp turn had kept it from making too much headway and a volley of Ion cannon shots peppered down from the twin cannons below. Bursts of white and blue light leapt out, spreading over the creature in translucent ripples. That didn't stop the creature though, it only made it shift in the inky black depths before it's form launched at Gates, claws and teeth bared coming right at him.

"What's this thing made out of anyways?" Hal's fleeting query leapt out as he did a hard right shift as the Star Dragon raced passed him, but not enough of a movement to prevent damage. The tail of the beast struck the underside of the wing, slicing through an engine couplar which reduced the Goose's flight power to less than half power in a single stroke. "Gah, that's my ship!" The spacer's incredulous cry echoed out while he tried to out flank the beast for some more pot shots to hopefully put it down. Unfortunately his main thrust powers was too compromised for a clean maneuver like that. Claws seized into the belly of the freighter as the Star Dragon turned about and ripped a section of the hull away. Alarms blared as Gate's harness slammed into him from the impact force. The pressure seal was broken and he was losing fuel and time. "This...is...not...going...smooth." Hal grumbled trying to shake the beast off his tail with what power he did have left. Eventually Hal looked back seeing precious few options before he got a rather stupid idea. "Fine...you want to snack on something, snack on this!"

A single blaster shot from the Lazy Eye shot out, but not before the beast had given one more tug to his vessel. Instead of hitting the mark, and releasing a gas canister into the open maw of the Dragon, the shake lodged the plasma bolt into the side of the secure webbing that held the crate of radioactive goods intact. Immediately the large crate slid from it's position and slammed right into the Dragon's face and then right down it's gullet. Hal's eyes went wide as watched his payload slide right out of his grip and into the belly of the beast. The bittersweet moment however allowed the Goose to wrench free of the enemy before clamping off it's structural damage, sealing and pressurizing the cabin. Unfortunately the ability to actually gain bearings again was too compromised and Hal's ship started to get sucked into the gravity well of the nearby planet Rishi.

"This is not my day..."

[member="Loske Matson"]​
 
"Uuhhhh ohh..." Loske observed from a distance as the organic reading tangoed with the ship on her radar. The thruster's engagement hadn't dropped, and were bringing the flygirl and her astromech close enough to see the interaction without the targeting radar. Blips of light from the ship below; which meant it was armed. The plasma bursts seemed to have little effect on the star beast, however, which made her eyebrows shoot up against the forehead of her helmet. That was some impressive shield technology. "This makes sense why we get to go in before the sciencey folks."

"Yes." Frank agreed. "They have brains."

Loske frowned, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth to translate audible irritation with her co-pilot. He wasn't all wrong. Not only was her brain only sinews and compilations of memories that were not her own, and structures that were unnaturally formed, but she had been programmed to really only do two things - fight and fly. Critical thinking, outside of strategic plans within the aforementioned pillars, were beyond her capacity. Still, Frank's sass hadn't meant to cut that deep; so she didn't take it so personally.

Ion accelerators doing their job, the youth angled closer above the ship, keeping the laser cannons locked in the targeting computer to the eerie shape; the closer she got, the more mythical it appeared. The pair's distance was less safe now, enough that she could see the space creature had punctured the ship to a point of compromise.


She reached forward, giving her thrusters a little more oomph to close in on the tussle ahead. "That ship needs our help.. Frank, see if you can get me a channel to the pilot. I'll get us closer for the defense."

"That's not in our mandate."

"Alliance mandate is to protect -- that always stands. But if you're talking about our contract right now -- mandate is to report on the area and if possible, neutralize it. We're glorified escorts, and that.." a gloved finger pointed forward to the distressed freighter, even though Frank was secured into a bottom-loaded socket and couldn't see the gesture "Needs an escort. It's going down."

The stars around her seemed to move, as a glowing belly bumped against the tip of her locked X-wing and caused her path to shift dramatically to the right. She grimaced, gripping the yolk intently and pushing forward to close in on the ship. It seemed losing sight of this space bully wasn't going to be a problem, since it seemed absurdly fixated on the freighter below.

The dragon had consumed something, unbeknownst to Loske, and its powerful wings were beating in a way that seemed to vibrate the atmosphere. It's long neck stretched upward, and it released something akin to a belch. However, a burp in space, from a dragon, is not something the blonde had witnessed ever before. Brilliant white and blue beams streamed from its throat and upward until it umbrella'd and spread out above them, eventually dissipating into nothingness and joining the vacuum of space.
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"Holy kark.." Loske murmured in awe, looking upward as much as possible through the ceiling of her cockpit. The nose of her craft still pointed downward as she distanced herself from the belly of the creature and toward The Goose.

Whatever had prompted the upset in the creature's gut, seemed to agitate it enough to make an impressively agile pivot away from Loske and [member="Harland Gates"]' ships. It ignored them, finally, as it barreled right down to the planet's surface.

"Keep a lock on that thing. Looks like we're going planetside sooner than we expected."
 
Streaking through the black of space at an accelerated pace brought the translucent aura of the atmosphere further and further into view, as the planet of Rishi sucked in the Wild Goose into her gravity well. Without operable thrusters, or the ability to really steer much thanks to bent and shredded wings; Hal was on a collision course thanks to a Galactic pest that had sought him out for a snack, only finding a payload of dangerous unstable chemicals to be the main course. Free from the clutches of the Star Dragon, Gates had fallen from the frying pan and into the fire. Telltale signs of damage littered the rear of his craft as electronics sputtered and sparked until the nose pierced the atmosphere at an alarming rate decorating the cockpit with ardent flames due to such a steep trajectory for entrance. Hal was literally in the hot-seat as his hands gripped the yoke tightly attempting to steer the craft with all the prowess of a seasoned spacer. As per usual though; even when in a scrape he was more than willing to assure the ship that she wasn’t in any real peril.

“C’mon sweetheart, you gonna let that overgrown space lizard take you out like that?” Hal questioned through gritted teeth as he banked to the right, catching a glimpse of a stream of black smoke now being let out from the ripped fuselage. “Not my girl, nope - you’re gonna slide outta this nosedive like morning glory.” As if on queue the stabilizers failed, making the entire ship quake through the turbulence of the atmosphere. “Seriously?” Hal exclaimed giving a hard thump to the console panel as he tried to get a bearing on where exactly he was going to try and crash land the Goose without having to sacrifice every bit of precious on her in the process.

Meanwhile the Star Dragon launched itself like a rocket through the stars, with it’s skin nearly glowing with the energy it was producing, streaking it’s way towards the planet itself but in the opposite direction. Something hadn’t agreed with the intake of that payload and it was looking to find some rest in the mountain tops of the lush and lively planet. Two diverging paths for a single cruiser behind them to tail, and neither one seemed to be cognisant of Locke's position, but were far more intent on their own survival for the time being.

Down into the lower atmosphere levels, Hal was still struggling to maintain some control; tugging hard on the controls to try and reign in his vector. Landscape mountains were dusted over as emergency power was rerouted to keep the ship from falling apart, and giving some semblance of protection to the cockpit. Gates had given up his sassy comments, as he was a little too preoccupied with staying alive and making sure he continued that course of longevity. Throwing a few switches, Hal switched the wing formation to slide together, which temporarily boosted his aviation, allowing him a bit more motor control. The gnarled sections of the wing destroyed by the dragon collided with the other more intact one creating a single functional wing. Still at the speed he was going, he’d have to find a way to slow his arrival considerably.

Getting a rather laser-brained idea in his head, Hal grasped the console controls for his ion canning, levelling it towards the mountain range, firing off two thick blasts at the rock face he was approaching. Moments before hitting it directly, he tugged on the yoke hard, arching into a high loft, before he killed the engine power, and let the weight of gravity slow his movements until he hung in the air just along enough to correct his aim and plummet back down, spinning the cockpit around and deploying his landing gear. Both grooves carved into the mountain by his ion cannon matched up roughly with the two feet that extended from the bowels of his ship. The Goose hit hard, but softer than it would would seem, scraping the struts to ribbons as he tore down the mountain side, until they both popped off.

The rest of the Wild Goose made purchase shaking back and forth until it slid into a stop on a low slope about fifteen feet from the valley floor. Smoke and debris clouded the air while Gates sat in his cockpit, his hands clenching the yoke and his eyes closed. Silence reigned for a while before he tentatively opened his eyes.

“Am I dead, is this what dead feels like?”

[member="Loske Matson"]​
 
"Aaand, he's going down." Loske murmured to both herself and Frank.

"Try hailing that ship again." She could understand the pilot was busy previously, but as he spiralled downward towards Rishi, maybe the pilot would have a bit more time for a phone call. Frank didn't talk back this time, and made an endeavor to hail [member="Harland Gates"]' Goose.

"I'm going to try and get close enough to grapple hook them." The pilot explained, so the droid wouldn't undermine her efforts as she adjusted the power to the maneuvering S-foil repulsors to accommodate for the severe change in altitude as she angled the nose of her fighter downward. The star dragon didn't seem interested in the little X-Wing, which the kiffar bought as an opportunity to focus on assisting the damaged ship. She switched her views to open her targeting screen, seeking to land The Wild Goose in her cross hairs before spewing out the chord from the belly of her ship. "Holy kark is this guy ever flying.." came the frustrated whisper, through grit teeth as the ship danced within her neon-screen and out of range. That was the trouble with string, it had to be attached to two things in order to be effective.

Still no response from our hail.

"Keep trying. Let him know we're friendly."

Affiliation?

"Don't think they'll care. Just say friendly."

The Alliance wasn't exactly hot stuff these days, and the scientists probably wouldn't like to know their payment was going off course.
She was now corkscrewing through the stars, to keep the heat off her own wings, while attempting to lock onto the distressed ship. It was remarkably futile, as the massive blue gem of Rishi turned from marblescent to full mountain ranges, and she had to switch her motives from target locking to rock-avoiding. She was able to watch the attempt at landing from overhead, and make a landing at her own comfort.

"I'm still getting heat readings, I think they're still alive!" The girl announced, rather excitedly. Although, if the pilot had died, it may take an hour or so for the corpse to cool off and no longer be detectable on any sort of radar. She adjusted the view to keep a search overhead, in case the Star Friend came back to the planet's surface. Frank continued to attempt to open a channel, and Loske quickly checked the atmosphere before popping open the canopy overhead, and lifting herself out. She kept her helmet on, in case Frank succeeded in opening the channel to the other pilot, and then she could just speak directly. Taking her time to lower herself from the ship, and touch the ground, she slipped on some loose pebbles and lost her footing. Clumsily, she rode the downward shuffle of rocks to just a few meters from The Goose. Righting herself, she dusted her butt off and crouched toward the wreckage of the other ship, hand hovering near her hip's holster and keeping a reading up on her goggles to avoid any unwanted surprises.

It was only a handful of moments until Loske had successfully snuck up to the back of the ship, where the Dragon had taken a bite out of Goose's backside.

Her one hand curled around her mouth and she projected into the ether a "Hello in there? You alive?"
 

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