Dominion Red War: Prison of Elders | CIS Dominion of Balis-Baurgh

[Steven Stevenson]

TAG: Vren Rook

"What in the actual SELF CENSOR did I get myself into?" The inmate turned his attention to Steve, whom was firmly gripped in his left arm around his neck. "What are you on about, fool? Steve sighed "I don't know man, one minute I'm on my way to work and the next I'm being held by my throat..." Steve tugs lightly on the inmates arm which is wrapped around his neck "... very firmly if I may add... So to answer your question, no, I do not know what I'm..." Steve lifts his hands and makes an air quote gesture "... 'on about fool'..."

A moment of silence filled the room. "Did you just call me a fool?"

More silence. "Are you deaf fool? I'm talking to you!" The inmate tightened his grip on Steve. "What?" "The F#*K you mean 'what?' FOOL?!" The inmate was slowly losing his patience, or well... the last he had left. "Awww what? It happened again? The inmate was clearly confused "What do you mean 'it happened again' fool?" Steve clearly with a bit of a giggle in his voice "... ohhhhh that?" "How are you possible this calm with a blaster pointed straight to your brains?! You REALLY must be a fool?" Steve immediately regretting what he is about to say... "If I'm the fool, why are you the one in prison" There is no red in the galaxy to describe the color of the inmates face "Listen here you little..." his sentence was cut short by the hissing sound of a door opening.

The inmate immediately knew what was about to go down. He heard someone downstairs. This is exactly why he had Steve! As a human shield.

"You come through that door and I'll blow this fool's head off!"

Some muffled commotion was heard. "C'mon man, I don't think their THAT stupid" Steve said irritating the inmate even more.

Like a angel sent from the heavens, ( Vren Rook ) appears, facing the inmate.

It all happened so fast but when the dust settled there was a big hole where the inmates face used to be. "If I play dead, the mango might not kill me, then I can do a sneak attack" Steve whispered to himself. The sad irony is that ( Vren Rook ) most likely saw him moving around and even whispering to himself.

 

[Siv Dragr]

K A R J R​

Tag: Tristan Ortega | Vaux Gred | Kytana Horizonis | Steven Stevenson | OPEN
Word Count: 2,611

Siv Dragr's hands rested lightly on the controls of the Blood Eclipse, his personal gunship, as it rocketed through hyperspace. Blue swirls of hyperspace flashed passed by the transparisteel cockpit, reflecting brightly on Siv's beskar helmet. He could feel the hum of the Blood Eclipse's dual engines as the ship's inertial damper strained to smooth out the gravitational pressure and forces being exerted on the ship as it traveled at lightspeed. Apart from the hum of the engine and other noises of the ship as it passed through hyperspace, it was near perfectly quiet.

Siv set perfectly still, and with his face covered by his Mandalorian helmet, he appeared completely emotionless. And in this tranquility, he found himself reflecting.

The Way of the Mandalore was considered by some to be ancient, but it was the path that Siv had walked his entire life. Clan Dragr had always been. . . more independent than the other Clans of Mandalore. They had heralded from Kol the Clanless, who had become Kol the Hammerborn. In Clan Dragr, the right to be Mandalorian did not come from heritage or blood. it was won through one's own skill in combat, in craftsmanship, in the art of a hunter and mercenary.

It had also been what had made Clan Dragr so unique from the rest of the Clans, for while they shed blood against each other and against enemies made across the galaxy, Clan Dragr chose not to fight. They knew that countless deaths over countless crusades took a toll on its clan, and it was why most smaller clans would grow and disappear in less than a century, only leaving the large and ancient clans to persist. Clan Dragr followed the Way that had been decreed by Kol, Most honored this decision; Clan Dragr was an old Clan, and despite its small size, it had a certain degree of honor and respect with the other elders and leaders of the Mando'ade. Others though, bitter for the lack of support, labeled the clan as Dar'manda.

Most of them that had were dead now, anyway. But so was Clan Dragr. It turned out that the Sith did not care for internal Mandalorian politics and instead preferred to commit mass genocide indiscriminately.

A faint ping echoed from his dashboard, signaling that the Blood Eclipse had finally reached the drop point. Siv moved one of his hands from the stick to the massive lever that controlled the hyperdrive, slowly moving it upwards before the blue and white swirls receded back into a starfield as the ship reverted back into realspace. Balis-Baurgh was a world of entrancing beauty, covered partially in a mystic purple cosmic haze that shimmered in the light of the system's star.

Siv's hands remained firm on the steering controls of the Blood Eclipse as it rocketed through the purple haze. For the briefest of moments, the massive maximum-security orbital prison cast a shadow on the gunship as it formed an eclipse, blocking the light of Balis-Baurgh's star. From the files that Siv had reviewed before he'd made the jump from Roon, he knew it was called the Prison of Elders; an orbital maximum security prison that had been created before the Plague had plunged the galaxy into a four hundred year darkness.

And now it was apparently undergoing some sort of riot. Prisoners had escaped and were warring for control of the prison, while others had made their escape down onto the planet below. For now, the Prison of Elders would have to face its problems by itself: Siv had come for the escaped convicts. Whatever would pay.

The Blood Eclipse descended down the Gravity Well of the outer rim planet, touching down on the planet that his contact had said should be the one. The underworld at the moment was a pool of information and informants scrambled to provide information to both sides, the hunters who were looking to make some easy cash on these escaped convicts, and gangs who were looking to rescue ones of their own or press new muscle into their service. Balis-Baurgh was shaping to become a real crime showdown, except for the fact that the Karjr were here to take charge of the situation.

No one left alive and unchained. And Siv wasn't uncomfortable with killing those who refused to come in quietly. After all, it paid the same.

He landed in one of the nicer spaceports of the planet's capital city, far away from the urban sprawl. As he left the docking bay, he tossed an extra credit towards the way of the bay manager. "Make sure she doesn't get stolen," he called over the droning noise of droids, docking bay crew, and security all hard at work.

The manager caught it swiftly with one hand and stowed it away. "Dontcha worry sir," he said, his outer rim accent heavily emphasized in between juicy mouthfuls of chewing tabacc, "this is one of the finest spaceports on the planet. We have been livin' with that massive prison in the sky since before we been born -- this was gonna happen sooner or later." He gave a brief guttural shout in Huttese and a pair of armed guards moved from an inner chamber to hurriedly march by the Blood Eclipse to stand guard, blasters at the ready. The manager took a brief look at Siv -- taking in his Mandalorian armor, the pistol strapped to his hip -- before looking up again, his mouth still working furiously away at the tabacc. "You one of 'em Mando marshals?" he asked. "Here to clean up our mess?"

Siv was silent for a moment and then answered. "If you have any information, I'll take it."

The manager grunted, a wad of tabacc flying out of his dark-stained mouth. "Usually information like that would cost ya," he said. "But all this criminal scum running about? It's bad for business. Scares away the customers. Lowers the repute of my port, and fer good reason. I heard a couple o' gang members were holed up in a cantina called the Nightime Masquerade. I can getcha the directions if you want."

But as the manager had said the words, Siv had inputted them into his holofeed, and sure enough, the cantina of the same name had shown up on his map. "That's all I need. Thank you," he added, before stalking out of the hangar, his cloak billowing out behind him.

The cantina was located directly in the middle of the massive urban sprawl that surrounded the downtown port area of the city that Siv had landed then, and would be quite a walk. Fortunately, the city ran an internal hovertrain transport system, and the station was only a block away. He began down the street, keeping out of the main light of the road. Pedestrians intermingled on the sidewalk and speeders flew at high speeds down the center of the roadway. Siv took care to remain obscure, but the muffled clinks from his beskar armor that rattled with each step, and the unique design of his Mandalorian armor, instantly set him apart.

He noticed quite a few stares, including that of a massive hammer-headed Ithorian leering out from an alleyway at him. The Ithorian muttered what sounded like to be a native curse before spitting at the ground, but other than that gave no challenge. It was not that Siv would be afraid of a confrontation, but revealing himself as a gunslinger at the wrong time could blow any opportunity of surprise he'd have with a larger, higher-value target. This metropolis sector was beginning to show the signs of dereliction; cracks here and there could be found in the pavement and the stone and metal walls of the various buildings that lined the roadways.

The hovertrain station was an elevated platform above the roadway, and Siv entered into an empty hover lift that took him up to the platform in a matter of seconds. Lights flickered dimly above the half-empty hovertrain station as pedestrians of all species, shapes and colors waited absentmindedly for the arriving train under the flickering lights. Siv stepped out into an alcove where he had an excellent view of the station but very few could see him. He pressed a button on his vambrace and his heads-up display subtly shifted to a bounty scan.

What was lucky was that all the escaped convicts already had their bio-IDs in the system, which made tagging them much easier for Siv's bounty scan and tracker. It was only short-range, but if Siv was able to see them clearly, the tracker would be able to identify them quickly enough to beat any criminal on the draw. It would be like shooting womp rats in a barrel, he mused grimly to himself.

Siv raised his head as the screeching of fast-moving metal breaking alerted him to the arrival of the hovertrain. As it slid into the stations, the various waiting beings lined up at the queues, waiting for the train to come to a stop in order to board the hovertrain. Siv joined them, standing at an empty queue, preferring to stick away from the crowds for now. With a final screech, the train came to a stop and the sliding blast doors of the hovertrain opened. Passengers disembarked on one side while those who had been waiting entered the train on the other.

The insides were dimly lit as well, and signs of age were everywhere on the train. Torn and worn seat covers, faded plasteel walls, stains, and smears, flickering lights; they were all there and added to the general atmosphere of decay of Balis-Baurgh. But it was far from the much-worse examples Siv had seen of public transportation, so he took a seat without complaint and lowered his head, a gesture that to all who might be watching him would appear to be sleeping. But Siv was doing anything but that; on the contrary, he was fully awake, and his bounty tracker was active.

The sliding doors to the car opened and a group of beings entered into the room: two heavily-tattooed and heavily muscled Devaronians, their horns sticking out of their cranium scarred and marked with large streeks. One had a dark red skin tone while the other's pigment was a much lighter yellowish-green hue, and if their cranial horns were scarred, then it seemed that their faces were a tapestry of partially healed knife work. Behind them was an even larger Zabrak, his horns much more studded in the typical fashion of his species. The Zabrak was much less scared than the Devaronians, but stood well over a half-foot taller than his companions and much more heavily muscled. And behind him.

The Ithorian.

Siv's eyes narrowed under his helmet, and the passive scanner began to immediately focus on the four that had just entered. It took a moment to buffer and communicate with the server, but sure enough, the identities and criminal records of the four began to stream down Siv's heads-up display. And there it was: recently escaped from maximum-security prison designation: Prison of Elders. Siv's hand immediately moved to the blaster pistol strapped at his side, deftly unlocking the covering so that he could draw it at a moment's notice, all without alerting the four convicts to his attentions. But while they didn't notice him readying his blaster, they did notice his shiny beskar armor, and they moved covertly over to where he was sitting.

The two Devaronians and the Ithorian took seats opposite from him while the Zabrak took the seat immediately to Siv's left, on the other side of his holstered pistol. They were still sitting in a way that concealed his blaster from their sight -- another advantage for him. But he was outnumbered, be that as slight as a disadvantage as it was. More importantly, they were in a narrow train car with little room for movement or error, lest Siv blow a hole in the hovertrain and send it down, killing himself and all else onboard.

"Heh . ." The Zabrak leered at Siv, flashing yellow pointed teeth. "What brings you to Balis-Baurgh, Mando?" the Zabrak asked, his accent rough but not the native one that the port manager had spoken in.

Siv turned his head slowly until his helmet was facing the Zabrak. "You."

The convicts sprung into action. The Zabrak pulled a knife from seemingly nowhere, slashing it upwards against Siv's chest, but it screeched harmlessly at the beskar chest plate. Siv kicked him back, turning as the green Devaronian, the one closest to him lept towards Siv, trying to tackle the Mandalorian. But Siv was faster, drawing his blaster pistol and firing at the Devaronian point-blank in the chest, sending the horned alien sprawling backward. But he wasn't fast enough to block an incoming swing from the massive Ithorian, connecting with Siv mid-torso and sending him flying back against the wall of the hovertrain car. The Ithorian bellowed with impressive ferocity, and there were screams from the other end of the car as passengers saw the commotion and hurriedly tried to make their way onto an adjacent hovertrain car.

Siv didn't get to leave though. The momentum of the Ithorian's swing slammed Siv into the wall, still partially airborne before gravity brought him to the ground. He was just quick enough to get to his feet before the other Devaronian, rushing towards him, could reach him but once he was standing the Devaronian pushed him up against the wall. Their faces were mere inches from each other, and the Devaronian leered at him with a crazy air, licking his sharpened teeth with a narrow forked tongue. "I ain't ever going back there," he hissed, that same crazy smile on his face as he drew a knife to Siv's throat.

But in response, Siv slammed his helmet down onto the Devaronian's cranium, stunning him. Concussed by the sudden hit, Siv was able to kick the Devaronian back before drawing his pistol and firing once, twice, three times into the Devaronian's crumpling body. "You won't have to."

He did not get a moment of respite before the Ithorian slammed into him, this time sending him sprawling onto the floor. The Ithorian roared again, bellowing with all four of its throats in a deafening screen. Siv's audio receptors kicked in, muffling outside noise as to prevent the Ithorian from concussing him with the roar. His hand still on his pistol, he raised it up to aim at the screaming Ithorian and pulled the trigger. The Ithorian toppled. That only left the Zabrak.

The Zabrak in question had regained its footing and was now brandishing dual wielded electrobatons, igniting them with a crackle of electricity before shifting into a traditional warrior's stance. "Why don't you fight me like a man, Mando?" he asked, snarling, before lunging at Siv, covering the distance between them with a startling speed. Siv accepted the challenge, discarding his blaster and drawing his traditional Mandalorian vibroknife, readying in a warrior's stance before striking at lightning speed at the Zabrak. The Zabrak's first and second blows were blocked by Siv repulsing them with his beskar-plated vambrace, which was resistive enough to electricity. Siv then counterattacked, slashing across the Zabrak's chest with his vibroknife Skira. The fight was over in a matter of seconds.

As the Zabrak's body crumpled to the floor silently gushing blood from the massive wound in its chest, the only sound left was Siv's panting, amplified through this helmet's audio receptors. Without a word, he sheathed his knife and picked his dropped blaster, and went to work ID-ing and tagging the downed convicts. There was still more work to do.

 

[Luna Terrik]

B R E A K

Location: Balis-Baurgh, Hanger 2B
Time: 2210 Hours
Equipment: Personal XIPHOS armor, BAW-89 Carbine Rifle, Tactical Recon Handgun (2), G-20 Glop Grenade (3), Thermal Detonator (2)
Objective: (1) Establish beachhead (2) Fight to the control room (3) Lock. It. Down.
Tags: | Tiria Reinhart | Tien Ulinesque | Subject 73 Red | Tyran Numeck | CT-308 Maverick | Jasmille Kavos | Jie Tarell | Tegan Farron | Subject 82 Snow | Udrid | Eva Winburn | Titus Dorn | Frank Sterling | Eldin Rake | Asta Nikola | Blair Vauss | Dreyn | Obediah Sharp |

Venom squad’s lead screaming into her ear didn’t exactly help the entire situation, but it did continue to turn the gears that had started the moment those E-Webs had opened up. Something had happened within this prison ring. However the droids had malufunctioned, they truly did believe or were programed to think that the commandos storming the hanger were the true enemy, and must’ve brought out the heavy weaponry from the armory. That would obviously make getting to the command center all the harder, but perhaps it would give them, instead, a different objective.

First, though, they needed to get out of this hanger. Alive.

Venom was already starting to push that objective by blowing the kark out of one E-web, leaving the second one to quickly direct it’s fire at the squad that had done the most damage so far. Unfortunately for it, that left it’s side wide open to a counter. “Duo, granny, take out that turret.” A pair of commandos to the far right of the group turned to the lead, giving her a nod at the order.

“on it boss. C’mon granny, move that slow butt of yours.” Duo chuckled out, pushing himself up and over the turned over crate to hurdle himself toward the corner of the hanger. Granny let out an audible groan over the comms before turning to follow her teammate. The rest of the omegas, knowing exactly how this maneuver had been practiced time and time again, drew fire to themselves by letting loose a torrent of bolts from their positions. Luna joined in on the firing, capping a pair of droids with a few well-placed shots to their head units.

With the covering fire sufficiently drawing attention away, Granny and Duo were able to make it to a flanking position. When the E-web droid turned to once again focus it’s attention on Venom squad, the pair let lose a hail of bolts toward it’s position, turning the droid to a pile of junk before it even had a chance to realize where the attack was coming from.

The very moment the droid’s best defensive position was out of commission, Luna’s voice broke through the comms of all the squads in the hanger, encouraging the full on assault. “Defensive positions down! Secure. This. Hanger!” She wasn’t one to just hide while this happened either, leaping from her covered position, the Grand Marshal pushed forward, carbine securely pressed into her shoulder as the pad of her finger pulled off shot after shot toward the droids.

Knowing now that their cover was gone, those left defending the hanger began to turn and make their way out of the pair of exits at the far end of the hanger. Their retreat only seemed to empower the dauntless squads to push forward harder, trying to eliminate as many as they could before they could move back to another defensible position. It didn’t seem to work exceptionally well, as plenty of shots found their targets true, and by the end of the firefight, the hanger fell silent save for the sounds of sparking and destroyed droids.

As Luna made her way over to the exit of the hanger, stepping over droid carcasses and ejecting a magazine as she did so, the marshal motioned over what squad leads had landed to this point. “Alright, it’s obvious the droids are going to be a bigger problem than we would have liked. That presents us an extra option, being we split our four squads into two pairs, one attacking the command center and the other the droid security area. Problem being we might run into more resistance than either pair can handle. Thoughts?”

 

[Obediah Sharp]

The moment Frank Sterling put the E-web out of commission, Tag saw that they had a chance to take down the second gun. Venom squad held the line, soaking in fire from the second E-web as the Master Sergeant called out. "Keep it's attention on us!" He ordered his team. He stood up from his cover for a fraction of a second, a blaster bolt slamming into the side of his shoulder. The multi-layered blast vest absorbed the blow, however it did push the man back to a knee. One of his commandos moved to his side to check on him, placing a hand on his back. "You good, sarge?!" The man asked, but was met with a hard slap to the chest. "Put some blaster bolts down range, now!" Tag commanded and almost immediately the soldier nodded his head before turning back to his firing position.

Dauntless continued the fight through the hangar. Without a dug in defensive position and their precious gun emplacements to defend them, the droids soon turned and fled the hangar. Tag watched as his men overtook the position, most of them immediately spreading out to search for explosive charges or booby traps. Once his men fell back in line, the Master Sergeant gestured to the bay doors. "Get some men on those doors, I want a defensive perimeter in case we get lit up again, move." His men responded promptly, while he looked to Corporal Frank Sterling . "Corporal, with me." He said, before turning and making his way over to the Grand Marshal, Luna Terrik . "Hangar is clear ma'am, we're setting up defensive positions now." He told the woman in that gruff, curt tone of his. When the Grand Marshal spoke of their dilemma the man turned his eyes towards a nearby ventilation shaft. Two fingers came up and pointed towards the large vent system. "Yea, I got an idea, Marshal." He said. "We can't move an entire platoon through the vents but maybe a few troopers would fit? Send a tactical team for the Command Center while the main force takes out the droid security." He said, before turning to Frank and gesturing to the man.

"The Corporal and I can take out the command center. That leaves Venom free to move with you, Marshal." The man turned back to a nearby crate that had been offloaded from the Dauntless transports. He kicked the top of it, revealing a number of explosive charges. He pulled one from the crate before looking to Frank. "Ever use these before?" He asked the man before throwing the explosive device to the man. "We'll rat pack it up to the Command Center, under the radar, and while you and the rest of the troops draw the fire we'll bring some hell." He said. One of the members of Venom squad spoke up, chuckling as he did. "Master Sergeant got a death wish.." The man chuckled until Tag turned his hard eyes to the man with a silencing gaze. "Get on that door." Tag ordered, before turning back to the Grand Marshal. "What do you think, ma'am? It's your show."

Just then an audible snap occurred, causing Tag to rear back as a slug slammed into the ground beside his feet.

In the distance some of the troopers yelled out. "Contact!" There was a flurry of blaster fire that flew out of the door but the situation settled almost as soon as it had started. Some of the men who were defending the wall turned to some chatter, which caused Tag to yell out. "If you girls would focus on holding that damn perimeter instead of sharing wet dreams we might live through the day!" He called to them, causing them to fall silent. With the brief commotion at an end, Tag turned back to the Marshal expectantly. "Well, Marshal?" He asked.

 

[Verin Oldo]

​

Vemric Keldra​

"Commander Oldo, I commend you on your line. There is hope for those coming from Arkanis yet. Now, I'm sending through our formation. May we contain these criminals”


Oldo had watched as the sizeable CIS naval squadron appeared on the scope, barely registering on the long ranger scanners. Even though they were part of the same force, it was always a wise move to hide as much as possible in hyperspace travel. High Marshal Vemric was famed naval commander and Oldo had only encountered him once or twice before.

Oldo watched as the new naval complement matched his own, a large battle group now formed outside the defensive zone of the station. It was very clear-nobody would be getting in or out of it without strafing across the killing zone of a large group of angry and deadly viable capital ships. Oldo was impressed with the squadron that had joined his. They were smaller models that the Victator he commanded but nonetheless lethal. No less than four extra battlecruisers, alongside the CNS Requiem and a small complement of Corvettes meant they had an ample force to deal with even the most able of enemy fleets.

“We have unidentified craft coming out of hyperspace, sir!” the bridge officer barked. Oldo drew his attention to the tactical display in front of him. He watched as one, two, four, six, ten, twelve, fourteen blips appeared, some larger than others.

Oldo smiled to himself.

The voice rang out across the ship, calling the personnel to action.

“All hands to stations. All hands to stations. The watch is suspended.”

Oldo watched the display once more, unable yet to register what the size and makeup of the enemy vessels were. If they had to come to rescue or assist the station, they would have quite the task ahead of them.

“Have all fighters prepared to deploy across the Line.”

Voices and call signals called in across the Line, watching each display light flick to green, an acknowledgement from the ships that they had received the order. He felt the bulk of the large ship lurch a little, shifting its mass to present its main armaments and batteries to any incoming vessels.

“High Marshal, this is Commander Oldo. The 513 is yours. We have formed up and ready to repel any enemy craft, should they appear to turn hostile towards us. We are at your disposal.”

​

​

​

​

 

[Tristan Ortega]

Objective: Patrol
Tags: | Vren Rook | Vaux Gred | Kytana Horizonis |

-------------------------

Seems a little bit of movement became time for action in the blink of an eye, which was the way it always worked and Tristan wasn't going to complain about that one bit. The worst part of any patrol, hell any mission in general, was waiting around for something to happen. So this, and being dished orders to move? That was perfectly alright with her.

She had given a nod to Vren when he paired them up, and once he moved, so did Tris. Her own pistol was drawn from it's holster, and as soon as it was needed her HUD adjusted for lack of vision in the dark. Her frame moved deeper into the room, keeping enough space between herself and Vren in case a fight broke out, but not enough space that she couldn't have his back if the need arose. When she noticed him looking above them, Tris followed his example and then sighed. "Why are they always stupid enough to go hide upstairs?" she quipped, though the question really didn't require an answer.

It was single file up the stairs, but once the pair reached the top there was enough room for them to spread out again, not that they had to go far. When they reached the door and where shouted at through it, Tris scoffed and looked at Vren. "So dramatic," she groused, but stepped aside from the door so that when it came open and blaster fire started to rain in, she was covered.

Her own blaster was not set to stun, and there was only so much time to lean around the doorframe and fire into the room before the door was lit up again. On one of her moments of firing, she landed enough shots to take one of the inside shooters out before she leaned back and pressed against the wall again. "You ready to strut in like we own the place?" she questioned, ready to step in and unload if word was given to do so.

 

[Frank Sterling]

Frank fallowed Tag staying silent unless spoken to. As they discussed the plan on taking the command center Frank look at the box of explosive charges. "yes sir I have used these before but Rat-packing is unnecessary and could cause unneeded damage to the entire ship, 4 charges between you and me would suffice if placed in structural support areas." Frank said looking over the explosives.

as the Soldier spoke up frank couldn't help but grimace under his helmet. "Your master sargents got more balls and brains than you kid, it may be a death wish but if it ends the fight without the loss of more lives would it be worth it? I like to think so keep your eyes on your sector." after frank had his rant for the moment he paused realizing he might have just fucked up. "sorry sir."

Putting his money where his mouth was, when the shot rang out and the slug impacted the ground next to tag and the grand marshal Frank would put himself between the danger and his superiors. after the situation was clearly handled Frank looked to tag "we sure these guys went threw basic?"

 

[Amelia von Sorenn]

O B S E R V E​

Balis-Baurgh System
Songbird II-class Personal Luxury Yacht



It was so rare that she got to observe other individuals within the hierarchy of the Confederate Naval Command - however - the recent riot turned prison break permitted her the opportunity to do just that. She thought that when it was all over, she should show some kind of gratitude to any surviving prisoners once they were back in their cells - specifically, those that had made contact with their mercenary friends - perhaps a tasteful fruit basket was in order. Either way, the little details were something that could otherwise be dealt with at another point in time, for now, the situation at hand called for her attention. Golden-yellow hues peered out across the vacuum of space, her attention falling upon the Confederate Fleet that had dropped out of Hyperspace and begun to assemble in a blockade of the planet. She could easily be colored impress with how quickly they were setting themselves up - meaning that she wouldn't have to step in and assume direct control - which was something she hated having to do when the Confederacy had a slue of talented Naval Commanders.

The observation deck of the Songbird II-class Yacht had been set up to ensure that she was both comfortable, and had more than ample amenities while she observed the unfolding situation above Balis-Baurgh. Already she knew that the blockade was in capable hands, and she figured, that if they were this well organized - then they should conceivably be more than capable of handling a mercenary fleet that was on its way. Not only that, it seemed that this situation was also an ample opportunity to test out the capabilities of the new Songbird II-class Yacht that Von Sorenn Industries had begun to produce - and Amelia was quietly, and somewhat impatiently, waiting in to observe the coming conflict.

"Mercenaries... They can be so rude sometimes. How impolite to be late to a soiree."

Amelia spoke with a sultry tone - though with no one else on the observation deck with her - it would grace no one's ears. Still, she didn't seem to mind that she was left alone to silently watch and judge the others. She was rather content - oddly enough - that she wasn't in the middle of the fray. Perhaps those invasions had taken their own toll on the woman, resulting in her wanting to relax a bit more before jumping into another chaotic slug-feast of vessels pummeling one another with cannonades. Additionally, in the unlikely event that some Mercenary vessel decided to claim the Songbird II as a prize, or an errant missile or shot strayed their way - she was more than confident in the vessel's heavy defenses to handle the situation - even without any kind of offensive capabilities to speak of or return fire. It was an odd gamble she was taking just to be able to observe how well the other Naval Officers worked with one another.

As she settled into her seat, she leaned back slightly, lounging almost as she let out a soft sigh and a rather annoyed huff that the Mercenaries hadn't arrived yet - apparently taking their sweet time. When she was just about to write them off though, she smirked softly as she watched their vessels beginning to drop from Hyperspace nearly at the doorstep of the Confederate Fleet.

"This should be interesting."

She just about purred as the words rolled from her lips and danced into existence. Reaching over, off to the side where a drink carriage was patiently waiting for her attention - her fingers lightly slipped around a stemless glass. Lifting the drinking vessel from its place, and transferring the object to her free hand, she then carefully grasped the matching carafe - bringing it to the glass. Those golden-yellow hues never peered away from the events unfolding before her in space, even as she began to pour the sanguine ichor from its container into the waiting glass. As she pulled the carafe up and away, she had - by some miraculous means - poured the perfect amount into the glass.

Lifting the glass up, she seemed to toast the two fleets - as if she were wishing that the better of the two would be the victor - before carefully bringing the drinking vessel towards her lips. As she sipped on the strange ichor, savoring the liquid, her golden-yellow hues peered over the rim, constantly watching and constantly judging. It appeared that the festivities would begin in earnest soon - as she watched the first Confederate Fleet begin to mobilize its vessels and starfighters - which only served to shift her attention momentarily towards the collected mercenary fleet to observe how they would respond in kind. Of course, her mind wandered for a moment, fixating upon how the Confederates on the planet itself were doing - surely her Dauntless Counterpart, Grand Marshal Luna Terrik was handling and mop up of escaped Prisoners on the planet.

That though only caused her to wonder just who was in charge on the Station itself - the individual that was commanding Confederate forces in their bid to wrest control of the Prison back from the escaped prisoners. It was always a strange thing to find one thinking in multiple what-ifs when it came to a dynamic situation such as this. Perhaps the Mercenaries would decide to cut their losses rather than face off with the Confederate Navy and destroyed the Prison themselves - that would certainly fix a lot of people's problems in a short period of time. It was always an option, given that the Station had become heavily overcrowded to the point that all it took was a Galactic Power collapsing for the inmates to become that bold and start a riot.

With the Confederacy of Independent Systems moving in, however, it was likely to change in the coming days once they had resecured the station and returned the escaped prisoners where they belonged. They might even have a few new cellmates if the Mercenary fleet was captured rather than outright destroyed. Either way, those were problems and solutions to be had at a later moment in time - for now - her attention and mind would return to the situation at hand as she took another slow, long sip from her glass. Those golden-yellow hues once more settling upon the unfolding fleet maneuvers off in the distance above the planet.

"How will they respond?"

Amelia poised the question into existence purely for herself - rather than asking it directly to any individual had they been there. She was now more curious than ever, as to how these Mercenaries would fare and act in the face of the Confederate Fleet.

Chaos NaNo: 1132​

​

 

[Luna Terrik]

B R E A K

Location: Balis-Baurgh, Hanger 2B
Time: 2215 Hours
Equipment: Personal XIPHOS armor, BAW-89 Carbine Rifle, Tactical Recon Handgun (2), G-20 Glop Grenade (3), Thermal Detonator (2)
Objective: (1) Establish beachhead (2) Fight to the control room (3) Lock. It. Down.
Tags: | Tiria Reinhart | Tien Ulinesque | Subject 73 Red | Tyran Numeck | CT-308 Maverick | Jasmille Kavos | Jie Tarell | Tegan Farron | Subject 82 Snow | Udrid | Eva Winburn | Titus Dorn | Frank Sterling | Eldin Rake | Asta Nikola | Blair Vauss | Dreyn | Obediah Sharp |

If there was one thing that Luna appreciated out of her officers, it was creativity. Beyond the normal traits such as reliability, consistency, all things that normally would be cherished, Luna found herself being more attracted to putting officers in places of power that could think on their own. Sergeant Sharp was starting to show that exact trait that she prized, especially when he pointed out and came up with his own plan, one that more than likely would’ve worked better than splitting up the two different squads.

“I hate to send you two in there with zero backup…” Biting her lip under the shadow of her helmet, she looked from the corridor to the vent, and back down to the sergeant with a slow nod. “But I don’t see any better options. Take Sterling with you, blow the doors of the command center. Attempt to keep the computers working, but we can plug in if they get damaged in the explosion and control this part of the prison from there. I’ll take Omega and Venom and get to the droid security center, and either shut them down or get them under our control.”

There was a moment’s pause, then Luna swiped up on the computer built into her wrist armor, toward the hulking commando. On his hud, a popup would show two things. One, the route to the command center, and the second, the commlink point of the commander of Delta Squad, master sergeant Q’aria Tvenes. “Delta squad will back you up when you get to the command center. Just make sure to keep Q’aria updated on your progress.” A nod followed, effectively ending the conversation as Luna turned to make her way toward the doorway, when the hellstorm of fire flew through and Sharp made sure to remind the boys just what they were missing.

Creative and accountable. Sharp was worth keeping around.

“Get going you two. Double time.” The words were called out over her shoulder as Luna jogged up to where the pair of squads had lined the door, taking her place near the front of the right side. “alright..duo, granny take point. Everyone else, file behind. Stick to the walls and watch your corridors. Target is now the droid control room.” Light murmur’s of affirmation filled the air as a pair of omega’s made their way to the front of the group, the one of the right turning to look over at the one of the left, and even with the helmet, it was easy to tell how hard he was smirking. “Try not to get left behind, granny.”

A grumble followed, but nothing more, as the two squads turned and began to make their way down the corridor, leaving Sterling and Sharp to start their own job.

 

[Vren Rook]

TAG: Steven Stevenson | Tristan Ortega | Vaux Gred | Kytana Horizonis | Siv Dragr

Vren smirked underneath his helm at Tristan's words.

They were both taking cover on either side of the door and sending salvos of bolts into the room. She was quite the firebrand and that's exactly what was necessary now. She had sent some bolts into the room as well, taking out one shooter.
"Good shot, Vod. And yeah, let's do just that." he said, the smile evident in his voice.

With practiced ease, he rolled through the door while sending a bolt at the other shooter, dropping him in his tracks. Getting to his feet, Vren looked around. He sincerely hoped a stray bolt did not catch the hostage.

The Karjr let out a sigh of relief when he saw the helmeted little man move slightly and heard a bit of a whisper.
"Ortega, get in here." he said over the comms, holstering his blaster. "He's still alive, I think." he added. His HUD did still show vital signs of the hostage, but Vren was not sure if he was hurt or not.

He stepped closer to the little man. "You all right there, Burc'ya?" he asked, referring to the helmeted man as "friend". They needed to get out of this building and meet up with the others.

 

[Vemric Keldra]

TAG: Verin Oldo

Vemric still remained in front of the view port as everyone jumped to follow his orders.

He listened as Commander Oldo offered the 513th to his disposal.
"Thank you, Commander. Have all assault craft hold the line. Do not break formation. Is that clear?" he asked, his eyes on the spot where the unidentified craft would blink into existence.

He then glanced over his shoulder to the bridge.
"Miles, status?" he ordered.
"Seems to be fourteen craft, Sir. First wave, perhaps?" the Lieutenant responded.
"No. There may be a straggler or two, but this is the brunt force. They knew they would get resistence." Vemric said, just as the first freighter blipped out of hyperspace.
"Activate shields and relay the message to all Confederate vessels." he then said calmly, turning around and facing the bridge. "Patch me through to that first craft." he added.
"Yes, Sir, Admiral, Sir." the droid responded and made connection with the unidentified ship.

Vemric stepped closer to the control panel just as the light blinked green to show that connection has been made.
"Unidentified craft, this is High Marshal Keldra of the Confederacy of Independent Systems. This is a no-fly area without authorisation. State your business." he said aloofly over the comms.

In response, a salvo of laser cannon blasts was fired at the line.
"Very well then. You have been warned." Vemric said calmly and disconnected. "Get me Commander Oldo." he told the droid, who clanked into gear and hailed the Al'raja.
"Commander, deploy fighters and open fire on them." he ordered, before turning to Lt. Miles. "Relay the order. I want the corvettes in motion as needed as well. Not a single unidentified craft is to pass. Remove the rust buckets from my sight." he added with a slight sneer.

Last edited: Oct 25, 2020​

 

[Obediah Sharp]

The Master Sergeant appreciated Corporal Frank Sterling way of handling the troops. It was more in line with his own than the way some of the newer Non-Commissioned Officers worked. When the Corporal apologized, Tag waved a hand of dismissal at the man so he'd know if didn't bug the Sergeant. He noticed again when the stray round slammed in and the man put himself between the open bay doors and the command team. Good soldier.

When the Marshal said she hated to send them in with no support, Tag couldn't help but chuckle at the words. "Don't worry ma'am. If its just us two we should give the clankers a chance to surrender." He said. Tag watched his helmet's HUD refocus as Luna Terrik synced him in with Delta squad. He looked over to the Master Sergeant and nodded at the man. "We'll try to leave some for you." He said before slapping a hand against Stirling's shoulder. "Grab those charges and lets move."

When the Marshal gave her orders, Tag gave off a quick. "Yes, Ma'am." before making his way over to the vent system. Tag was not a small man by any means, luckily the ship was so massive that the ventilation system reflected it well. The vent cover came off easy enough and Tag quickly leaned down, cursing a bit as he realized how tight a fit it would be. "Tuck tight. Lets go." He went down to his knees, climbing into the vent at a steady pace. Almost immediately the system went into an incline, causing Tag to sigh. "Hold on to the pipes or you'll slide back down." He told Stirling, moving up the vent at a gradual pace. It took nearly five minutes before the vent system finally evened out.

Although they were able to make it through the vents without incident, they had to go nice and slow, as some parts of the vent felt weaker than others. The two soldiers continued down the path, every now and again having to stop so Tag could check the map and make sure they were going the right direction. The vent system did not have a direct route to the command center, so after almost fifteen minutes of crawling, the two found themselves overlooking a room across from the Command Center. Tag stopped, looking down through a ventilation cover. Thus far all he could see were various supplies loaded into the room below. "We're gonna drop in here." He said, kicking his foot down until the vent cover came off. Tag jumped down, landing in the supply room and quickly scanning around. He looked back up to the vent above. "Clear." He said, holding his scattershot at an even ready position.

 

[Frank Sterling]

Grabbing the charges Frank followed close behind Tag. The vents of this station may have looked big but for two burly and rather large Soldiers it was at best small size. "Now I know what a TV dinner feels like." Frank commented as they crawled through the vents slow and methodically as not to draw attention to themselves. "Tag Thanks for not sidelining me after the situation with those aliens and my actions that followed," Frank stated as they crawled through the vents. In truth, he worried that disobeying orders to save Red would have gotten him reprimanded like he would have if he stayed with the planetary guard he used to be with.

as he dropped into the room he would move to the door pulling out his revolver he opened it a crack checking the situation. "left side clear, wait one." Hearing two pairs of footsteps coming from the right side. As they got close enough Frank threw open the door separating the two pairs of feet as he lunged forward gripping the droid with one hand as he crushed it within the combined strength of the powered armor and his cybernetics before twisting and tossing the droid behind him and putting two rounds from his pistol into the second's chest before adding one more hole to its head.

"clear lets go." Frank said as he approached the door to the command center running his hands along the door edges to feel for weak points in the door. taking the charges he began placing them on the corners before retreating to one side. "stack up, get ready to breach." Frank would wait for Tag to get clear before shouting. "breeching!" and detinating the charges.

 

[Steven Stevenson]

TAG: Vren Rook

The Mandolorian approached Steve as he was lying almost (not at all) still in the fetal position.

"Don't shoot, for the love of all living creatures!" Steve lifts his hands in a display of surrender to show that he is unarmed. "Don't shoot! He exclaims in an overly dramatic manor. "I am but a defenseless little man!

The Mandolorian holds his blaster next to his side and reaches out with his unarmed hand to comfort Steve, to try and show that he comes in peace.

"He fell for it, idiot! He won't even know what hit him! Steve thought to himself.

The Mandolorians unarmed hand was inches away from his arm.

"SNEAK ATTACK!!!!!!" In a quick action Steve (with no plan, no weapon and absolutely no CENSORED skills) jumps up to attack Vren....

Unfortunately Steve jumped up directly into Vrens hand and got knocked out cold... yeah... I know... I'm getting tired of this idiot already. I mean, who... uhhh... I mean just... He got knocked the CENSORED out, by literally doing nothing.

So yeah, anyway... Steve is out cold.

I guess?

 

[Kytana Horizonis]

Tag: Vren Rook | Tristan Ortega | Vaux Gred​

---

Ky was quickly on the move her partner Vaux took the lead at first cracking off a few missed shots. Ky herself held steady not taking a shot as they moved along. She was targeting the one Vaux wasn’t firing at but even though she had a few times at a clean shot she didn’t take it. Vaux winged one with a cable but had a bit of a hang up and yelled for Kytana to get them.


The one that got winged with the cable in the legs slowed and Kytana caught up to him and came up beside him. As she passed him punching him right in the nose with her Crushgaunt breaking his nose on impact causing the man to stumble and fall to the ground, but she kept on going after the other one. The other one disappeared around a corner.


As Kytana rounded the corner she came skidding to a halt. “Chit!” She started firing shots as she turned and came running back in the direction of Vaux. A speeder chasing her and gaining speed as she ran as the speeder was about to hit her Kytana activated her jet pack and lifted off into air and pulled a thermal detonator from her belt activating it and dropping it into he speeder as it passed under her.

 

[Obediah Sharp]

​

When Frank Sterling moved to take point, Tag didn't argue. Man was good at what he did. They launched out of the room and Stirling dispatched the droids with ruthless efficiency. As both of the security droids fell to the ground as scrap, Tag moved to the Frank's rear as he prepped the charges. They stood back to back, Tag covering the hall while Frank prepped the charges. "We don't have all day, Corporal." He chided. Almost immediately the man said the charge was set.

Tag stood behind Frank, setting a hand on the man's shoulder. "Prepared to breach." He said, tapping the man's shoulder twice as a sign that he was clear to blow the door. With that the explosion went off. The doors to the room exploded in, smashing into the room with a destructive clamor. That was when the two moved in. Tag slapped Sterling's back as a sign to move into the room. The moment they breached in, Tag came over to Sterling's side and raised his scatter shot. The mouth of the weapon screamed as the slugs flew from the barrel, slamming into a trio of Security Droids near the main console.

There were only a handful of Security Units in the Command Center. Almost immediately Tag and Sterling were able to blast the droids, destroying them so that they could work freely. The Master Sergeant glanced around quietly before looking to the Corporal. "Clear. Let's get to work." The massive man approached the main console, pulling one of the blasted droids from the terminal and glancing over it. That was when he patched his comm into Delta Squad.

"Delta, we've got control of the Command Center. Send your backup." He quickly switched the channel to Field Marshal Luna Terrik comm frequency. "Marshal. We got the Command Center. We'll try to initiate a droid shutdown b-" That was when a Blaster bolt slammed into the man's shoulder, scratching against the reinforced iron vest. "Stirling, take cover!" He yelled out.

They moved faster than the standard security units, with the same fluidity and precision of a commando team. Modified Security Units functioning as Commando droids? Tag slid down into cover, shoulder his scattergun before his HUD illuminated Sterling in the corner of the room. There were at least two teams of droids outside the door and they had nowhere to run, they were pinned.

 

[Frank Sterling]

When the shots started flying and tag Ordered frank to take cover Frank looked to the Sargent before taking a position in the doorway shouldering his LMG his 6'11" frame taking up most of the doorway. The only thing running through Frank's mind was the need to protect his fellow man. "You will take no more!!" Frank bellowed as he let the rounds fly. the advanced Slug thrower weapon Slamming into the Opposition as their blaster and slug throwers pelted and pinged off of Frank's armor his heads up display screaming at him about armor integrity as it dwindled.

bullets rang home scrap flying chunks of wiring and oil all being torn asunder as frank bullets chewed up the enemy the glare of his gun reflecting off his shark face visor a sea of brass collecting by his feat along with scraps of his own armor sparks flew off his armor impact slag from blaster shots tearing extra plating and chunks of his normal armor off in chunks. As his gun clicked empty he dropped the gun switching to his battle rifle as he kept up his hellfire on the enemy. as the last droid had fallen frank stood white knuckles gripping the now empty battle rifle sparks and rained from exposed wiring on his arm and legs multiple creator holes going down to his skin chared away showing soot covered metal plates and advanced cybernetics. frank slowly picked up his lmg after returning the battle rifle to his back. "Targets terminated sir." frank said as he backed up into the room and slumped down the wall as his cybernetics began administering Bacta to his chest wounds. "That took a lot outa me ill be ready to move as soon as the bacta finishes up sir"

 

[Luna Terrik]

B R E A K

Location: Balis-Baurgh, Droid security room push
Time: 2225 Hours
Equipment: Personal XIPHOS armor, BAW-89 Carbine Rifle, Tactical Recon Handgun (2), G-20 Glop Grenade (3), Thermal Detonator (2)
Objective: (1) Establish beachhead (2) Fight to the control room (3) Lock. It. Down.
Tags: | Tiria Reinhart | Tien Ulinesque | Subject 73 Red | Tyran Numeck | CT-308 Maverick | Jasmille Kavos | Jie Tarell | Tegan Farron | Subject 82 Snow | Udrid | Eva Winburn | Titus Dorn | Frank Sterling | Eldin Rake | Asta Nikola | Blair Vauss | Dreyn | Obediah Sharp |

With the control room push under the command of Sharp, the rest of the two squads made their minds and bodies push straight toward the droid security room. Luna knew between those two commandos, they would be able to handle themselves easily enough. The more they pushed through the halls, the more it became evident that the droids were much more concerned with controlling their own security post than the control section for this entire section. Or, at least, the prisoners were thinking that way.

That was evident by the time they got to the final hallway, where a stream of blaster bolts suddenly strafed the T-section behind the two squads, forcing them to slam into the wall to take cover. “Cover! Both sections!!” Duo called out, sprinting to the other side of the T with a few of the commandos following him as he did so. The two squads now stood against the short sides of the T, looking down at a heavily defended security room.

The prisoners evidently knew how important this room was, and that the Confederacy would push to get to it as quickly as possible. In addition to overturning a few tables for cover, the ten to twelve prisoners also had brought out a few of the security shields to hide behind. Not exactly the most complicated of defenses, but the combination of tight hallways and the prospect of quickly pushing through daunting. The enemy seemed to understand just how up against the wall they were as well, and like a cornered akk dog, were ready to snap at whatever decided to take a single step toward them.

Unfortunately, unlike a corner akk dog, Luna had no qualm not taking these pathetic beings alive.

“Sparklers, now!” Sliding out from the middle of the two squads, a trio of omega’s pulled a sparkler each from their belt. It was Yaz, the team’s resident demo man that started the countdown of the more..experimental of explosive devises. “Cook for three on my mark, then throw. Ready. One..two..” the silent three passed, and the lopsided greandes were thrown down the hallway before the commandos swiftly slid back behind cover while covering their eyes.

Courtesy of a certain benefactor, sparklers were a new toy for the Dauntless to play with. Just like in the experiments, the grenades exploded in a flash of white light that would first blind those around them, much like a regular flashbang would do. If that was all they did, they would be little more than underwhelming. However, after that flash, came a vipers sting. From the cylinder shaped midsection would explode a number of thumb sized metallic shards, cutting into he legs and thighs of all those around it.

The cries of pain were the starting pistol for the two squads who exploded into hallway, landing shot after shot into the chests of the prisoners still feeling the effects of the flash and sting. Without the sparklers, the push might’ve resulted in more casualties. Instead, the push through the hallway was swift and deadly, ending with the prisoners that guarded the security center dead on the floor.

With the droid security center back under control, all the droids in that sector of the station were shut down for the moment as well. No need for them to be used at the moment, as the Dauntless could easily take back control on their own and the last thing that was needed was more of an uprising. Delta squad had also landed by this time, and were swiftly making their way to meet up with Obediah Sharp to back him up.

Luna took a moment to look over the security station’s monitors, where it could be seen that the final majority of prisoners were located in the sector’s caf. What kind of firepower they would have was up in the air, but it was obvious this was their final stand. Reaching onto her wrist, the comm channel between herself, Sharp, and Tvenes was opened up. “Alright, looks like we have our final target. Caf, level two. Lets meet up in section 3C and prepare to finish this.”

 

[Tristan Ortega]

Objective: Patrol
Tags: | Vren Rook | Vaux Gred | Kytana Horizonis | And Steve..? |

-----------------------------

The shootout was hardly the impressive part of all of this. No, that came when Vren had answered Tristan's question and strut into the frey of the room like he owned his place, with her balanced around the edge of the door, making sure he stayed covered. While it was hardly flawless, it was pretty damn close, and still just as impressive either way. And when the dust settled, it was her and the other Mandalorian still standing and at the end of the day, that was all that mattered.

Tris wasn't dumb enough to holster her weapon, but she did heed the call for her to come into the room. She was mindful, watching the man move about in his rolled up little ball of a position. "Are you sure he's alive and not having some sort of...last bodily nerve spasms or something? What is he doing?" she got the question out, but not a moment later the guy seemed to find some inner strength - or inner stupidity - to attack...or at least attempt to. While Tris had brought her blaster up, it seemed that it wasn't needed. The guy met Vren's fist head on, and then slumped to the floor like a sack of rocks.

Admittedly, all Tris could do was stand there and stare for a breath or two. And then her gaze lifted to Vren, and while her expression couldn't be seen through her helmet, the lofted brows could almost be heard in her tone. "Well...that was unexpected, now wasn't it?" She then made a vague gesture at the unconscious body. "So what do we do with him now?" The last thing Tristan wanted to do was drag a body through this place, but whatever they needed to do, she was here for.

 

[Vren Rook]

TAG: Tristan Ortega | Steven Stevenson | Kytana Horizonis | Vaux Gred | Siv Dragr

What in Hoth?

Vren had just reached his hand out to help the little man, when he jumped up, yelling "SNEAK ATTACK" before knocking himself senseless against Vren's hand.

Vren was speechless for a breath. What had just happened? Tristan seemed to have found her voice first, her shock evident in her voice through the helmet, mirroring his own surprise.
"Hmmm." he finally mused. They couldn't just leave the fool here.

He sighed, the sound coming through slightly distorted through his helm, before he turned his head towards Tristan.
"I'm going to need your blasters on high alert, Vod." he told her before bending down to grab the unconscious man by his arms. With a grunt, he flung him over his shoulder like a sack of flour.

Turning to the door, he motioned with his head for Tristan to take the lead.
"Let's meet up with the others. It sounds like they are having trouble." he said before following her out the room, drawing a blaster with his free hand. He was vulnerable now, carrying the little fool like this. So he will have to rely on precision shooting.