Dominion Sunbreaker | RTL Dominion of Kazarak

[Voice of the Outer Rim]

The Sanrafsix Crisis, Part III

< for Fleeters, Pilots, and Aerial Aces - Battle over Kazarak >
​

---

Once again, ORION strikes gold for the Rimward Trade League. A cache of vital intelligence secured during their operation on Andelm IV has given the League's forces not only a name for their shadowy enemy, but the location of a major fortress in the Sanrafsix. While this may yet prove to be just the tip of the iceberg, the desert world of Kazarak stands as Eclipse's largest operation in the Corridor.

Kazarak is an often-overlooked world in the Mahrusha sector with a notable history of serving as a slaver world, with markets and distribution facilities dotting the arid landscape; Operation Sunbreaker aims to crush not only Eclipse's hold on the planet, but also weaken the resolve of other slaving guilds who might persist in the system.

The League Defense Force has mobilized a fleet to converge on the slave-world, expecting to engage heavy resistance both in orbit and on the surface. Eclipse boasts an impressive blockade of ships and will undoubtedly call upon their allies throughout the sector to aid in Kazarak's defense. By targeting and destroying Eclipse's flagship Shadow's Hand, a refurbished Lucrehulk-class battleship, the League can break through to Kazarak in full force.

Hit them hard, keep them distracted, and punch a hole through the Eclipse blockade.

< for Soldiers, Troopers, and Vanguards - Ground Assault >
​

---

While the battle rages over Kazarak, a joint task force of League special forces, Coalition Jedi, and Mandalorian commandoes launch a surprise attack against Umbra Actual, an Eclipse stronghold situated among the arid planet's rocky plateaus. Escorted by a squadron of elite stealth gunships provided by Strill Securities, the ground team splits into two groups to tackle the slavers on the surface.

Fireteam Kresh is tasked with a drop-and-go insertion via the HC-03M/S Shev'la Kyramud's onboard orbital drop pods, landing them as close as possible to the fortress's perimeter. Meanwhile, Fireteam Junda maintains air superiority with G-02H/S Shev'la'galaar gunships by smashing the slavers' defenses and relying on the gunship's cloaking capabilities to phase in and out of their sensors.

Ultimately, the ground teams are responsible for eliminating all active threats within Umbra Actual, rescuing any slaves being held on-site, and securing the fortress for future League operations on Kazarak.

Destroy their defenses, raze their stronghold, and save as many abductees as possible. The future of Kazarak depends on the League.

< for Rebels, Wanderers, and Storytellers - Tell Your Own Story >
​

---

It's no secret that Kazarak has been a hotbed for slavers, smugglers, and gunrunners for centuries. Despite efforts to quell the scum and villainy that runs rampant, these criminal elements always find a way to come back. While other illegal operations, slaving guilds, and criminal syndicates on Kazarak are not in direct conflict with the Rimward Trade League, these shadowy groups have realized their time is running out.

Local crime lords scramble to close up shop and skip off-world before being found out by the League, while others decide to take up arms and join Eclipse or hold out on their own. Some even take advantage of the chaos to make a quick profit or throw their competitors under the bus.

Whatever brand of turmoil beckons you to Kazarak, free to explore your own original objective.

 

[BB-4001X]

[ post theme ]​

ST-70 Luck's Revenge
| Andelm IV

A bright explosion of sparks erupted as the small droid crouched over atop the Razor Crest. He had a welding torch in hand and a port ion engine that was slowly coming back together.

The trick of it was, he still wasn't clear on why it had failed in the first place.

The odds of a navicomputer failing in mid-flight were fairly low. They were designed around a number of internal safeguards. Failure before engaging the hyperdrive was the more likely result of a navicomputer malfunction. Once the navicomputer had plotted the course, the periodic checks didn't require much aside from triangulation of position and then a cross-check against the previously plotted trajectory.

It made the catastrophic malfunction he'd experienced suspicious.

Particularly since it had happened in tandem with multiple systems experiencing failure. None of which seemed to be related. The navicomputer, the port ion engine, and the transfer bus on the cryogenic reserve power cells -- which hadn't even been operable. That the trio of failures happened so close in time to one another suggested that there was a larger problem that he just wasn't seeing yet.

Standing atop the top of the ship, the envirosuit-clad chore bot made his way back over to the hatch. Even if he wasn't organic, the level of radiation that was still present around the spaceport still wasn't good for his electronics. He didn't remove the helmet until he'd closed the hatch, setting it aside and starting to pull of his gloves when the sound of the comm unit echoed through the interior.

He ignored it, dragging power cabling through the interior as he continued working on the repairs to try and get the ship spaceworthy again.

The good news was, there was no shortage of people trying to get the feth off Andelm at the moment. He could probably make a few thousand off a flight to Svivren. Maybe even be able to make several runs if the money was good.

It wasn't good to stay in one place for too long, but the criminals operating here seemed disconnected from the Crymorah. Which wasn't surprising. The Firm was still based out of the Corporate Sector. This area of the Outer Rim was too remote to have been a lucrative venture for them.

The comm unit was still ringing.

Fitting the power cable to the bus and closing the connection, the afro-headed droid stood and surveyed his work. He really wasn't interested in answering the comm. If it was Vera Tillian or the Endurance looking for a service fee or some chit for the tractor beam that he hadn't asked for, they and their Rimward Trade League could go straight kark themselves with that.

Moving on to the next task, he started uploading the star charts he'd gotten from the Rescue Service into the new navicomputer he'd sourced from a scrapyard on the other side of the junkyard. Not much. A modular unit that had probably been the back-up, but that was fine. He just needed something that could handle the processing. He didn't need anything fancy, especially when he could just run the numbers himself.

...was the comm unit still ringing for real?

Making his way up to the cockpit, the dark-skinned boy toggled the unit.

He wasn't sure what he'd expected, but it wasn't the Chadra-Fan that appeared on the holoprojector. "Goodbye," the droid answered, reaching to terminate the connection.

"Wait, I've got information," the bat-eared alien supplied hastily.

Of course he did. Drex Hlan was an info broker. He'd worked for the Crymorah and Quest when it had been convenient for him. And also sold information about Quest and the Crymorah when it had been convenient for him.

The droid assessed with a high probability that Drex had been responsible for the bounty hunters that they'd come across on Craci V. A fact that the droid had, as yet, been unable to properly thank the Chadra-Fan for.

Perhaps he could look to the present for that opportunity, but all things being equal, the chore bot would just as soon avoid any further entanglement with anyone associated with The Firm.

If Drex knew how to contact him, then it stood to reason that the Chadra-Fan may have already sold that information to the Crymorah. Perhaps the droid's plans of a steady job in Andelm were premature. He should get moving. Soon.

And also procure a new transponder.

"Didn't ask. Don't care," the droid supplied, reaching for the comm a second time.

"You been experiencing malfunctions. But you can't quite narrow them down, can you?"

The boy's hand stopped just a centimeter shy of the button.

"Old man wasn't one to leave any loose strings, know what I mean? Taking that old Razor Crest of his and leaving the Firm was all his idea, wasn't it? A little something something he had programmed into you, am I right?"

The droid just blinked, his processors running a series of calculations as he worked through the call. Calculating the likelihood that the Chadra-Fan was being truthful. Calculating the greater percentage that Drex was being deceptive. The Hutt of a variable was: what part was the truth? and what part was the lie? "Get to the fething point," the boy stated flatly.

"The fethers in the Rimwank... Rimjob... Rim-whatever-Trade League are cracking down on Kazarak in a bad way. Not a good look for one of my biggest clients. Problem is..."

"Problem is, said client wants you and any other associates dead so they can tidy up and look like an innocent business when the Rimward Rangers arrive," the chore boy remarked, interrupting.

It was a common problem in their line of work. Among the Crymorah, it was referred to as retirement.

"Such a smart boy. Yes," Drex chimed. "That's where you come in. You're going to get me off this chithole and over to the Trailing Sector where I can just... disappear."

The droid was running the numbers in his head.

Based on what he knew and the information that Drex had supplied, or at least suggested, then it seemed that there was a virus aboard the Luck's Revenge. In the context of the problems that he'd been experiencing, that seemed logical.

The question was, who put it there?

Even if the Chadra-Fan didn't have that answer, if the droid was going to be able to identify and remove the virus, he'd need more information about just what it was.

And since he'd interfaced with the ship himself, that meant his systems could have been compromised as well.

He'd need to know more.

But that was precisely why the Chadra-Fan had been so confident in contacting him. Because he knew that he was making the droid an offer that the chore bot couldn't refuse.

Frak, he hated these mafioso mother-Hutters.

"Your info better be legit," the droid uttered finally, before he terminated the call.

Then he just stood in the cockpit, staring blankly out the transparisteel windows.

"Feth."

 

[Ariel Yvarro]

IMPERIAL + DIPLOMACY
RIMWARD TRADE LEAGUE
K A Z A R A K
[ T H E M E ]

​

TASK FORCE BOUQUET​
Spoiler: Bouquet List. The Rae Sloane The Tessala Corvae The Lanzora Garan The Tishra Kandia The Terisa Kerrill The Havina Vonreg The Garmen Naadra The Rella Sol The Seawolf The Serpent The Sparrow The Storm The Sunbreaker The Strongbow The Dagger The Defender The Duchess The Dragon The Diomede The Daring The Dauntless The Danae

Never let it be said that Ariel allowed her mother's most prized battleship to simply sit idle. When the Rimward Trade League asked for help and more specifically to be a distraction so that they could put an end to this slaver ordeal. Well. How could Ariel resist the opportunity? The Rae Sloane, reverted back into realspace and with it, quite the impressive set of Imperial-esque ships. It was fortunate that Ariel had acquired RTL IFF signatures and had them installed so while on the surface it seemed Imperials had arrived in hard-pressed numbers. The Dosuunian-raised Galidraani operated with skeleton crews on each ship, and droids manning the vast majority of the old ships.

Ariel also found it almost difficult to pry the Rae Sloane away from her niece and nephews of House Halscott. Her sister Ryssa was of no assistance, and Lucinyia simply refused to get involved in her own children's petty disputes. Thankfully, the brunette had a friend in one Mr. Kurayami Bloodborn who was all too happy to help her acquire the beastly ship. Speaking to one of the few organic pilots through the ship's communication systems, Ariel addressed him. "Mr. Bloodborn, I believe it is your time to shine, we'll do our best to keep most of them off of you." If he had wanted of it, a few pilots were at his service but Ariel had no intention of deploying more than necessary fighters for the case.

After all, they were only a distraction, not an actual all-out-involved war. This was simply for fun. Fun in a way that Ariel hadn't thought of, nor even considered. She wasn't dressed in any particular uniform, but rather in plain trousers and a lovely cardigan over a simple shirt. Even the skeleton crew were dressed rather casually. Still, it was from this particular moment that Ariel perhaps could understand, her mother who loved being aboard these war machines. She considered then the state of many of the ships her mother designed, the gears turned in her mind as she watched the fighters deploy and with them, of course, Mr. Bloodborn.

As the rest of the fleet reverted into realspace, Ariel addressed them and the RTL's Defence Force League, "you asked for a distraction, and we here at Victorian Imperial aim to do just that." Switching channels to speak specifically with Victorian ships, "be sure your IFF transponders are activated and do your best to keep our friends alive." Once the channel was closed the brunette adjusted her cardigan and headed for the command station that sat above the trenches. "Now I suppose I know why mother had this installed." Murmured Ariel to herself and as she ascended the stairs, she requested that a droid bring her a spot of tea and biscuits for the occasion.

Open to Interaction
​

 

[Elias Edo]

​

Tags: Nathan Bloodscrawl | Westenra Mina
Objective 2: Umbra Actual
Assaulting the Eclipse on KAZARAK...

Three hours before jumping to the Kazarak system...

"It all comes down to this," Elias said to himself, eyeing the holographic map projecting from the table. An image of Kazarak was rotating slowly, surrounded by dozens of tiny red blips encircling the planet - Eclipse ships, likely bolstered by half a dozen or more slaver vessels from other guilds in the sector. Elias scratched at his bearded chin as he eyed the largest indicator on the map: the fleet's flagship, the Shadow's Hand.

"Getting past that's not going to be easy…" In fact, were it not for the Mandalorians' stealth ships, it'd be damn-near impossible to get a ground force past the blockade without destroying it first. Elias found himself ironically grateful for their help with the mission, though he'd be lying if he said he wasn't a bit leery of their motivations. And they weren't the only ones he wanted to keep an eye on.

"Nathan. A word," he said, gesturing for the man to pair off for a moment. When they were far enough from the other Jedi, Elias turned to face the newcomer with stoic eyes.

"You're with me on this one," he told the man. "I need to know I can count on you down there… I've got your back, but I have to believe that you've got mine." Their initial encounter on Sullust was rather tense, and though Nathan Bloodscrawl had been welcomed to the Coalition with open arms, Elias hadn't yet mended the situation between them.

He extended an open hand, giving Nathan's a firm shake if he accepts.

"We're in this together."

Fire. All Elias could see was fire. The explosions overhead rattled the glass of his drop pod, nearly drowning out the commands being spouted over comms. Elias fought the increasing pressure of gravity as he patched into Fireteam Kresh's channel.

"— do you copy?" one of the Mandalorians demanded.

"This is Master Edo, I read you!" Elias called out, adding himself to the steady stream of call-ins that flooded the comms. They were closing in fast on Umbra Actual, with Elias' squad in particular slated to land near the northern edge of the fortress. If the data Rhiza Dural uncovered on Andelm IV was good - and when it came to her, bad data was a rarity - they'd be dropping near the prison wing.

"Brace for impact in three…" Elias took a deep breath - "two…" - closed his eyes - "one…" - and gripped his lightsaber, ready for anything -

SLAM
​

 

[Kurayami Bloodborn]

Again he was called to aid the Rimward Trade League in getting rid of these slaver scum. No, that was far too kind a word for them, and was an insult o scum galaxy-wide. He would have to apologize to scum later though, for now he was working in the hangar on installing and tuning weapons in the modular bays of his 'Makaria' class interceptor. Since this was an aerial focused interception he had decided to forgo any use of projectiles for this one, opting for a pure barrage loadout. In each bay sat an agrocite enhanced EM-1919 paired repeating cannon, eight of those total, along with the R-9X's on the wingtips would be an absolutely hellacious amount of firepower. Once they were installed, he slipped into the seat and linked the HUD to his helmet, double and triple checking each system as it came online. He was dressed down in an old flightsuit, Corellian first class bloodstripes prominently displayed on the legs of the black trousers, the flight jacket showed its wear but the squadron patches were still clearly visible.

All systems were reporting green and the weapons were linked to the targeting computer and he smiled as he heard Ariel's voice over the comms. "Glad to hear it Ariel...er Ms. Yvarro. Hope you are enjoying this ship as much as I was lead to believe you would. We got this handled pretty well I'd say, this is a group of slavers. We have handled far worse and come out on top. I'll see you back here soon for the celebratory drinks and whatever we got as far as food goes."

He knew that if he called for backup that there were a few who would be available, but for the most part he was on his own, and that was just fine by him. Sliding the canopy forward and locking it in place he began powering up the engines and preparing himself mentally for what was about to happen. He focused himself inwardly as the throttle increased to half, following the vector he was given he left the hangar before accelerating to full military power. Pulling up and into an immelman he skimmed the hull of the Rae Sloane as his sensors came fully online and he readied himself to go on the hunt. As soon as he cleared the bow the real fun would start and he couldn't say that he wasn't looking forward to it.

 

[Mishel]

ARTIFICER + JEDI
RIMWARD JEDI COALITION
K A Z A R A K
[T H E M E]

FIRETEAM KRESH
​

​

Silently, Mishel waited as the pod continued its descent. The Jedi Master had been here before, a long time ago, when the First Order released its own version of drop pods. Sounds of explosions, bombs bursted in atmo, the old memory replayed in her mind as she meditated on the Force. Rhiza Dural did good work on Andelm, and today was the day they all saw this through. The slavers would be dealt with and their base destroyed. Once more, Mishel's only regret was that her sister Alessandra Creed wouldn't be there to help in the destruction of these wicked folk. Perhaps then, she thought, it would be time to pay the woman a visit, but later, after the Eclipse had been properly taken care of.

As commands came over the comms, voices fought to be heard over the cacophony of violence that surrounded each pod. Mishel wondered if the invites sent to Tera Highwind and perhaps even Taiia Locke had been received. Time would only tell if they would make their way toward the RTL, or at the very least into a meeting with her. Such things rattled around her mind as the pod drew nearer to its designated drop. The Tygaran's meditation would round toward Coren Starchaser in the hopes that her old master might be about, it had been a while since the pair had fought side by side.

Nevertheless, the Eclipse would see the light, and as Mishel's meditation completed. She braced herself for the pod's impact, hand on her lightsaber, ready to take on everything these slaver scum could toss at her.

Open to Interaction
Elias Edo | Nathan Bloodscrawl | Westenra Mina


​

 

[Lossa Aureus]

Location: Over Umbra Actual
Equipment: Danger Jacket, Outfit, Mix and Match Harness, Concealed Blaster, Discreet Hearing Enhancer - Left Ear, Long Handled Double Lightsaber, Concealed Sling Bag
Tags: Elias Edo Nathan Bloodscrawl Westenra Mina OPEN

Lossa was silent in the drop Pod as she watched the fire completely cover her viewport. Not that she particularly had a choice in being silent with how ill she felt riding inside the ship-blasted space coffin.

She didn't remember exactly how she had been conned into the idea, but she was sincerely giving past Lossa the business end of her mental lashing.

She had to count her blessings in some way as she struggled to keep her breathing regulated. The corners of her vision fading in and out of focus as she tightened her legs muscles and then her core, figuring out the order she needed to keep the blood flowing.

Memory jumping back to the time Briana Sal-Soren had thought it a wonderful idea to leap from a perfectly good ship onto a moving bullet train.

“— do you copy?” a voice demanded.

"Fethinchitchitchit!" Her initial strike of fear jarring her from the memory as she heard someone's voice in the cabin.

Or whatever they had called it.

Her hand scrambling over the comm button only to find it already engaged. A meek grimace spreading as she realized she had just spewed obscenities to those listening in.

If she wasn't already pink, she'd have likely made a close second to the flames licking at her drop Pod with how embarrassed she felt.

"Padawan Darcuhl, loud. And clear." Even yelling over the sound of entry, the embarrassment in her voice was clear.

She listened to the drop count go down, arms and legs braced and waiting for whatever was to come next.

The ground rushed up to meet the drop pods, the wind thoroughly knocked from her lungs as her legs felt like little more than toothpick filled jello.

"Force be kind. Let's get," Her coughed words settling as she fumbled for the button or lever to open her flying casket. She was pretty certain she'd been shown which one it was, but her head was swimming from gravity and the impact. "This. Open. Please!"

 

[Nathan Bloodscrawl]

Wearing: Prototype Armor

Armed With: Nathan's Lightsaber, Dartcaster (4 clips), Obsolete Battle Rifle (Stun, 4 clips). Stun Grenades (2)

Equipment:

Tactical flashlight, Healing Stims (7), Emergency Flares (2)


With: Westenra Mina (Lynda)

Lynda's Equipment: Venture Jumpsuit (Crimson), Electrostaff (Stun Only)

Objective: 2



70 minutes Earlier...

Nathan had been attempting (and failing) to meditate and had wearily gone back to his temporary quarters aboard the vessel to retrieve his equipment.

He was not expecting a guest.

She awaited in a crimson, skintight armored catsuit, eyes bloodshot, but otherwise a gorgeous, athletic woman with pale skin and ebony hair, sitting with her legs crossed in an armchair.

"We meet again, Jedi." she said a purple glint at the center of bright pink irises.

"You look different since Exegol." Nathan noted stoically, face concealed by his own crimson mask, partly styled after that of Temple Guards.

"You smell just the same..." Lynda, The Demon of Jedha hissed, rising. He didn't go for his weapon. If she wanted to kill him, he doubted they would be speaking. The Demon, from what he had heard, wasn't a fan of banter with enemies. He wasn't either.

"Are you implying I don't bathe?"

"No amount of soap can rid a man of the scent of heartbreak. Pain. Loss. It was her scent, you know. Laertia's scent."

"Moya told me of you. How you welcomed her into your house of brain suckers. Nice fethin' job being her sister, dumbass."

"Amazing...Your heart beat still isn't going past seventy beats per minute..." Lynda remarked. "But I suppose when the worst comes to pass, there's not much left to be afraid of."

"Do you experience fear?" Nathan asked.

"Is that a threat?" Lynda wondered.

"It will be, if you attack."

This elicited a dark chuckle from Lynda.

"Yeah, you're her father, alright..." Lynda chuckled. "Same spirit..."

"Why are you in my room, Creature?"

"Moya contacted me. Told me who you are. Of your desire to take down The Cult of The Brain Demon. I would assist in this."

"I cannot afford to be picky in my fight against the Cult." Nathan replied, folding his arms. "But know this, Demon of Jedha: I hold you as responsible as I hold nearly everyone else who was around her and did nothing to avert the disaster that came about. Moya's misjudgements are understandable...her programming was compromised from the beginning by no less than Laertia herself. You have no such excuse."

Lynda's bloodshot eyes left his.

"I won't dispute your assessment of my performance as a Sibling." Lynda replied. "I fethed up. But I want to make it right."

"Nothing you do will ever make right the depth of your failure..." Nathan responded coldly. "So I wouldn't expect smiles and thank you's for your assistance. We're not friends. To me, you're nothing but a thought drinker covering their six."

"Fair enough." Lynda answered back politely.

"As long as we understand one another." Nathan replied icily.

"We do..." Lynda replied. "Will you tolerate my proximity to you on this mission?"

"Are you gonna go psycho like you did at Exegol?" Nathan asked.

"Only Mawites and Brain Demon Cultists inspire that level of hatred." Lynda replied, pulling out an Electrostaff. "To be honest, I"ve departed GA Space for now."

"Like I need your life story." he replied acidly. "A simple 'no' would have done."

Nathan departed his quarters, leaving Lynda alone.

Later:

He had kept silent during the briefing, showing where they would be inserted. Lynda was also silent, watching as the plan was explained to everyone.

As they left however, Elias Edo stopped him and led him far from the others before speaking.

Nathan didn't have a solid past to the Jedi of the Coalition. No last name. No record of his existence anywhere in League Space prior to showing up on Sullust. No record of his existence anywhere, period before Sullust. He was just Nathan. And for some reason, the next time he was seen in League Space, he was carrying a Lightsaber, and had Force Powers.

This one had not trusted him. Nathan had not commented on it, or thought on it, having his mind dominated by other concerns, like the fact his daughter was now leader of the Cult that had murdered him and his wife in the Gulag Era.

Still, Edo was the boss. The Boss had to know the employee could be relied upon.

Edo's face was reflected in the white lenses. His chest rose and fell so subtly it was difficult to tell if he was even breathing. When he was still, he was unsettlingly so. It said a lot that Lynda, an actual HRD, was creeped the feth out by all these droid-like qualities he exhibited.

Nathan hit a switch on the armor and removed the helmet.

Green eyes locked with Edo. His frozen, grim expression the same as it had been on Sullust, and everywhere in League Space and elsewhere. No one had ever seen him smile or laugh.

"You have my full assurance I will do everything I can to have your back as you would put it." he said formally, and lacking warmth, but not rude.

Nathan put his helmet back on and headed to the drop pods...

Present.

Even as the Drop Pods fell, Nathan's heartbeat didn't go past seventy.

"I copy." he called back to the Mandalorian over comms as though he were writing down a grocery list.

The impact knocked the wind out of him and his head swam as he reached for the release button...

Lossa Aureus

 

[BB-4001X]

[ post theme ]​

ST-70 Luck's Revenge
| Kazarak System

He had everything powered down.

Firing the engines just enough to generate momentum, then cutting the power and letting inertia do the work. With no life signs aboard, with luck, anyone registering the blip on their sensors would think it was a meteorite or piece of scrap.

Once he'd slipped into a close enough orbit, he powered up just enough to angle the deflector shield for re-entry.

Had he passed through the League's net undetected? Who knew, but for now he had a clear shot at a landing. No spaceports. They were already running against the clock as it was. If the League hadn't taken notice of his ship before now, that would likely change when the boy brought the engines on-line and started to land on the planet.

If Drex was being honest, then they'd need to rendezvous and lift off within minutes if they were going to make a run before one of the League ships moved to intercept them.

By his calculations, the odds of the Chadra-Fan not double-crossing him weren't good. He'd give it fifty-fifty at best. In most estimations, it was over sixty percent against.

The coordinates that Drex had given him were for a starship graveyard on the dark side of the planet.

Donning an underarm holster across his shoulders, the chore bot dropped a compact blaster into it before tucking a second, hold-out pistol into the small of his back. Tugging on a loose shirt, he masked the weapons before grabbing a carbine off the rack and chambering the tibana capsule to charge the weapon. Slinging that over his shoulder, a pair of vibroknives were tucked away before the afro-headed droid moved over to the door and opened the hatch.

After the loading ramp had dropped down to the ground, the dark-skinned boy appeared, strolling from out of the Razor Crest.

He hadn't gone than a few steps when a silvery cylinder dropped into his path.

A pulse of blue light and the crackle of static electricity were the only sound, as the ion grenade detonated with less of a bang and more of a fizzle.

The likeness of the afro-headed boy seemed to flicker, vanishing as a child's toy concealed by his legs tipped over as its power was cut.

The holoprojector that had been taped to its head rolled along the ground.

From out of the ship, the small droid leveled the blaster carbine and let it rip at full automatic. The servoes in his arm held it steady, as a torrent of bolts flew from the weapon in rapid succession, blanketing the scrapyard as he emerged.

In the panic and confusion that followed, errant shots fired from three different positions began to frame a picture of just what kind of trap he'd walked into.

Even at this rate of fire, the droid was still capable of counting every shot. Ticking down the capacity of the power cell in his mind, he began to evaluate a new strategy. Breaking into a sprint, the chore bot pitched himself into a grav-ball worthy slide as he took cover behind the wreckage of a Z-95 Headhunter that was barely recognizable for the rust. The haphazard shots were starting to become more accurate, tracing the boy's path until they started slamming into where he'd taken cover.

Ejecting the power cell, the droid withdrew a new one and cycled the weapon as he started running calculations on a next move.

Thus far, things seemed to be proceeding based on the most probable statistic that he'd calculated.

Which wasn't a good news story. If anything, the chore boy was waiting for the day when an organic would surprise him.

...that day was not today, he thought, as another shot impacted near his head.

Feth, he hated when he was right.

 

[Roth Tillian]

Shen-Supa Assault Fighter
Kurayami Bloodborn Ariel Yvarro
​

"The damn First Order flagship," Knight Two said behind Roth's seat. "Wish I'd had a chance to paint that thing on the side of my hull." There was a low murmur of agreement from the third crew member, and Roth only shook his head. He had to agree, it was uncanny to be approaching First Order ships from the stern, without shooting at them or getting shot at in return.

"Cut the chatter-" Roth said after a moment, tuning back in to the chatter coming from the command console. "All goes well, we can paint a fething Lucrehulk on the hulls of our ships. Not many pilots can say that."

There was a pause. It was true. The massive vessels were notoriously hard to bring down, at least for capital ships. "We know they're weak to fighter assaults, even with the upgraded battleship configuration. We've been running simulation runs on our own Lucrehulks to get a better sense of how the defense work."

"Engines and within the gap between the central sphere and its ring connector," the third pilot, a Svivreni spoke, studying the readouts before she spoke up. "There's a small dead zone between the firing arcs- heavily armored and reinforced, but clear of the fire, and weapons from the sphere or the ring are likely to hammer the ship itself at close range."

"That's why they sent the Wild Knights to help fly," Roth replied, "We've been making those runs for the past few weeks, and even in these flying bricks, can usually get into the dead zone."

 

[Aeshi Tillian]

Mnoi Akûti

Kazarak had long been a thorn in her side and the side of the Outer Rim. Let the League handle Eclipse or whatever this new gang was called. Aeshi had unfinished business with the Karazak Slavers Cooperative. She was fully kitted out this time, with the full spacer's regalia and the lever action loose on her hip.

One of her cousins, much younger than her, had disappeared several years prior. Bounty hunters, investigators-- no luck. So Aeshi had been working the trail herself, but they all ended on Kazarak, with the Cooperative. She had to wait for some final information to trickle in, but she was quite certain now.

The KSC had taken her cousin. Somewhere, in the corporate databanks, they had those records. And by the Force, she was going to pry it out of them, legality be damned. It was the right thing to do and she would have done it sooner had she gotten the chance.

She perched on the top of the ridge, staring down at the sprawling complex in the heart of the valley below. She'd set some word out, to those she trusted, in the Underground and Free Traders.

This wasn't about politics, about right or wrong, or law or crime. It was personal-- this was about family.

 

[Vad Logan]

Ship: Tantara-series Corvette

“Well, would you look at that,” Captain Logan remarked to no one in particular. The field of view from the bridge was cluttered with starships hanging over the shimmering bleached surface of Kazarak. The light from the nearby star fell across the world creating a soft cascading gradient from bright off-white to a deep auburn gold. He would have spared a few moments to enjoy the beauty if it weren’t for the importance of the mission at hand.

“Lieutenant, what do we know about Eclipse?” Logan asked, never taking his eyes off the view.

“Only rumors until recently, Sir,” the officer replied, “the ORION intel we received has linked them to slaver operations throughout the sector. We may have picked off several of their small shipments in the past but they’ve covered their tracks-”

“Until now,” Vad finished the statement, turning to face the rest of the crew on the bridge. He paced back to his command dashboard and stared at the nav points lighting up on the half-transparent screen. “Jnnet, what am I looking at?”

The ship’s computer responded in a posh female voice, “The planet is protected by a blockade of enemy gunships, carriers, and a battleship. More enemy signatures are entering the area.”

“Lucky for us, we’re not alone,” Vad responded. The call from the LDF had been late. His small ship and band of rangers had certainly been an afterthought but Logan could see now why they’d transmitted the mission briefing. This was no small-time trafficking cartel. Eclipse was well funded and well armed.

“Are we headed for the surface, captain?” the lieutenant asked. Other heads of the crew slowly turned. They were all wondering the same thing.

“Not this time. Command has mandos and jedi on the ground already. We’re here to break this blockade so they can get those prisoners offworld.”

Logan’s heavy boots echoed on the steel floor as he turned, clearing his throat before issuing his orders.

“Prep the boarding team and fighter squadron. Take us into formation with the rest of the fleet. Jnnet, open communication with all League vessels.”

“Yes Sir,” multiple voices responded as the crewmen scrambled to work. The engines kicked up. Vad returned to his captain’s chair. He did not sit but rather turned to face the view of Kazarak drawing ever closer.

“This is Captain Vad Logan of the RRC Generous Fox. I hope we’re not late to the party.”

Open to interaction​

 

[Rhiza Dural]

Location: Kazarak
Objective: Finish the slavers
Tags: Elias Edo Mira Quinn Lossa Aureus Mishel Nathan Bloodscrawl OPEN for direct interaction

Spoiler: Equipment and links

Personal Equipment

• White bladed dual phase light saber
• Electro-whip
• Riftblade
• Viper mk1 skinsuit
• Ashlan Rosary
• Energy Bolas
• throwing shuriken
• Sairenro Shuriken pistol
• Empyrean Gland
• Morðingja-class Personal Cloaking Device

Starships

• Oubliette class transport
• Sciss class stealth fighter
• Ballerina Interceptor mk ii using this for thread

Two hours before the assault

The Rimward Trade League were coming, and they would punch through the blockade to unleash the ir fury very soon, but Rhiza had a specific task she wanted to achieve first. Slavers were deeply connected people with a web across the entire galaxy, when the attack came they would surely alert their allies and the pieces would move around again. Rhiza wished to know exactly who was listening.

The risk of her mission had meant her coming alone, she could not kill anyone here, and if she was caught then she was not Master Dural of the RJC, she was simply Rhiza, Sith Lord and Rival slaver, it was the only way that her mission would not risk forcing the slavers underground and putting the assault in jeopardy. She had arrived in her Stealthy Ballerina and landed near the main comms outpost on the planet. Infiltrating it had been easy, between her natural skills and her personal cloaking device she truly was a Spectre, the remote mountain broadcast centre was lightly guarded so within minutes she was inside and padding down its corridors. She looked at her watch, picturing in her mind that right now Mishel , Mira Quinn and Lossa Aureus and Elias Edo would be strapping themselves into an orbital insertion pod. Rhiza hated those things, she trusted the force to not take her before it was her turn, but it was still unpleasant to poke the bear like that.

"May the force be with you all" she said a quiet prayer to her allies as she entered the control room archway. There were two people at the console she needed. "This console is playing up, I'm speaking to tech again" she gestured with her hand towards one of them. "I'll join you, i could do with the break" she gestured at the other, and like mindless automatons they obeyed her suggestion and left. Rhiza moved silently to the terminal and quickly placed the spike in to the socket. The system glady gobbled up the subtle programming, it wasn't invasive enough to trigger the anti intrusion software, but would allow the RTL digital engineers to monitor communications at their leisure. She looked around at the rest of the room as other techs carried out their work before leaving to return to her ship.

The assault

The little ballerina approached Umbra Actual at high speed snd Rhiza quickly had a bead on the jedi assault pod as it descended to the ground like a meteor. She put her own ship into a steep dive to match it and readied herself to engage any hostiles who might see the pod as an easy victory. Pulling up hard, she landed next to the pod and dismounted to quickly meet up with the other Jedi. Looking at Master Elias Edo , another who knew of her clandestine mission she nodded politely "Its done"

The other jedi looked like a mixed bag from a little bit shaken all the way to being convinced that they nearly died. Rhiza looked at Lossa Aureus with a discrete amount of sympathy then glanced at the pod itself with playful disdain, "Horrible things, I never had the stomach for them" she said, trying to reassure the padawan that it wasn't just her.

She looked across at the imposing bar, the ground troops were beginning to react now to the drop pod attack and the mandalorians were already getting stuck in. "Let's not let the bucket heads show us up now then" she nearly cackled as she activated her lightsaber and ran to engage the nearest group of hostiles. Rhiza's long white blade flashed back and forth deflecting blaster bolts.

 

[Saram Kote]

Tag(s): Elias Edo | Mira Quinn | Lossa Aureus | Mishel | Nathan Bloodscrawl | Rhiza Dural

Equipment​

• Armor:
  • 'Ori'vuhyr'yaliyr'gam
  • Vambrace Weapons:
    • TBP-01V Tractor-Pressor Beam Projector
    • PC-05V Plasma Caster
      • Plasma Gas Medium Cannister (1)
    • MML-01V Miniaturized Missile Launcher
      • Electro Darts (4)
      • Explosive Darts (4)
      • Surveillance Tagger Darts (4)
    • NML-02VTB Nano missile Launcher
• Implant(s):​
  • 'Rammikad' Enhancement Package
  • 'Gar Tkiriyr' Neural Interface
• Melee:
  • B-01M Beskad
  • K-02M Kal (2)
• Sidearm(s)
  • LRH-5A Verpine Shatter Pistol w/ 'Kyrayc Sur'haai' 1-4x Short Range Optic
• Rifle(s):
  • DR-04DB Class-D Disruptor Rifle w/ 1-12x Medium Range Optic and UGL-02 Underbarrel Grenade Launcher
  • AMR-4M Verpine Shatter Anti-Materiel Rifle w/ 'Kyrayc Sur'haai' 1-250x Extreme Range Optic
• Explosives:
  • Det-Packs (2)
  • Flex-5 Detonite Tape (1 roll)
  • Smoke Grenades (3)
  • Flash-Bang Grenades (3)
  • Class-A Thermal Detonator (2)
  • NOVA40 Plasma Grenade (2)

"How many Jetii did they have to put on my ship?" crackled Spar's voice over squad comms as Davaab squad loaded into their Chekar-class boarding/drop pod. Saram glanced around at the pod bay as she waited for the rest of Davaab to board their pod. She did have to admit that there were probably more Jedi on board this ship than either Spar or whoever at Breshig designed this thing ever imagined there'd ever be.

"They'll be off the ship in a moment, Spar," half laughed Saram as she stepped aboard their pod. She exchanged a nod with Ran as she began stowing her beloved anti-material rifle first and then the DR-04DB that had more recently become her secondary weapon. Her battered old LRH-5A stayed securely maglocked to her thigh plate. Saram took her seat a moment later and locked her safety restraints in place as the pod's hatch began to shut.

"I'll feel better when that actually shabla happens. This is not what I pictured when the alor briefed me," complained Spar. Spar didn't like force users. Who could blame him. Most of them had spent careers fighting or being prepared to fight force users. Everything on this ship was built to negate or in the very least mitigate the advantages that force users had. At least he wasn't telling them this, they were their current clients after all.

"Well, they'll be our problem, not yours, soon enough. So udesii," sighed Saram. She wasn't a big fan of all the Jetii either. They tended not to be team players, steal all the credit and had a callous disregard for tactics. Or at least that was their experience so far. Who knew, maybe these ones would be different. She would be remiss to judge them all based on her interactions with a few, especially given she nor any of the others appreciated being lumped in with the entire shabla Mandalorian population.

"Speaking of Jetii, how come we're the only squad on this job?" asked Viraen, his question punctuated by the groaning of the pod being moved into place for launch. They'd been dropped down to a ground side objective or launched at an enemy ship they were meanto board via Chekar so many times that she'd lost count. It was all long beyond routine for any of them.

"It's not your sparkling personality, Viraen," fired off Anila, to the much amused reactions of the rest of the squad. Anila's quip was punctuated by the high pitched sound of the catapault pressor launching their pod. There was the routine lurch, the feeling of a craft leaving the artificial gravity of another object that they were all used to.

"Well, you're the only di'kute who'd take the lower paycheck," said Saram amidst chuckling at Anila's sharp wit.

Silence set in for a moment as the laughter died down. Saram glanced at the Manda display at the other pods that were all adopting evasive trajectories. The Chekar was a high speed, high maneuverability, low observability pod. She very much doubted these chaav'la chaarkare slavers had anything that advanced that they had to worry about then being able to target the pods.

"Not the only di'kute, eh Al'verde," asked Viraen, trying his luck once again. Truth was most of the other top of the roster Vuhyr'yaliyr squads were deployed elsewhere. Davaab could handle the string of assignments in this general area of space. This was however, an important area of space to the company. It wasn't cushy core worlds where the majority of their contracts came from after all.

"Oh I'm a di'kut too, but only because I'm the only di'kut who agreed to be in charge of you di'kute," laughed Saram. She'd almost lost Davaab once, she wasn't going to let it happen again, no matter who has the hairbrained idea.

"What's the process on changing the squad's name?" asked Rusana out of genuine curiosity.

"Too much paperwork, trust me," cut in Ran. "Besides, Di'kut squad doesn't have the same marketability." The squad chuckled once more. Ran was making a reference to when some aruetii had told the alor that they needed to change unit names to ones that were more easily marketable. She'd never seen him terminate a comm link so fast.

The conversation was immediately cut short as Fireteam Kresh's comms freq came to life. All eight Mandalorian commandos braced as they had hundreds of times before. The pod crashed down on it's high-strength landing claws with an unceremonious thud.

No sooner than the hatch was open, Davaab squad filed out of their drop pod, two by two, armor's active stealth systems hiding them from view. They fanned out away from their pod moving unseen by the hostiles. The only sign that they'd engaged the enemy was armor-piercing high-caliber rounds from their Verpine shatter weapons near soundlessly exiting their weapons and punching through the torsos and skulls of the slavers caught off guard by the sudden arrival of the drop pods.

"Davaab lead to all Fireteam Kresh and Junda callsigns, be ad vised, we're on the ground. Check your IFFs. Fireteam Junda, check the battlenet, we'll be marking priority targets," called Saram as she shifted targets putting down a slaver sniper with a well placed shot from her anti-materiel Verp rifle.

 

[Elias Edo]

​

Tags: Lossa Aureus | Mishel | Nathan Bloodscrawl | Saram Kote | Westenra Mina
Objective 2: Umbra Actual
Assaulting the Eclipse on KAZARAK...

The door cracked open, swinging hard to reveal a battlefield beyond the confines of his drop pod. Elias could see the blaster fire zipping through the air, the gunships descending from the sky, RDF soldiers mounting the assault… but all he heard was an intense, deafening silence. It reminded him all too much of the day he cost Phoenix Squadron their lives. The Jedi stumbled out of the pod, moving slowly at first as the memories barraged his senses. An explosion shook nearby, sending thin bits of shrapnel flying in all directions. Elias could feel the bitter sting as pieces of metal flecked into his flesh, but stepped forward through the piercing quiet like an automaton.

“Master Edo! What do we do?!” the voice echoed from his memory. They were set up, caught up in an Imperial trap in the Mid-Rim. It was supposed to be another guerrilla attack on behalf of the Rebels, a twofold message to both warn the Empire and chastise the complacent Galactic Alliance.

It was a bloodbath.

“Hold the line!” Elias remembered shouting. He should have called to retreat. He didn’t. And the screams that came, one after another, only drove the Jedi to dig in deeper.

"It's done."

Rhiza’s voice pulled him from the depths, and he turned to face the Spectre with eyes wide open, as if he’d just resurfaced from a faraway place. The distress in his aura was obvious, but he didn’t care to hide it. There were more important things to handle today than the past.

“Good work, my friend,” Elias said with a grateful nod and a hard pat on her bicep. His eyes then turned to the other drop pods, scanning for Lossa Aureus among the rest of Fireteam Kresh. She may not have been his Padawan, but she was his responsibility, and the part of him that lost Phoenix Squadron screamed for him to protect her at all costs.

Elias ripped his emerald-green blade to light, smacking a blaster bolt back to its sender as he shouted, “Padawan! To me!”

He turned on his heels, breaking into a steady jog for a nearby pile of rubble where they and the other Jedi could regroup. When his shoulder hit the stone, he lowered to a crouch, lightsaber in hand.

“Fireteam Kresh is on the ground, under heavy fire!” he reported over comms. He turned to a squad of Leaguemen, gesturing for their binocs.

“Get me a read on that turret nest!”

​

 

[Nathan Bloodscrawl]

Nathan at last popped open the hatch and was immediately fired on.

His dark blue Lightsaber blade sprung to life, falling into Soresu almost immediately to survive the shots coming his way as jumped out deflecting shots. He moved his blade and body patiently, no matter how intense the fire became, he trusted his blade, heading to the big pile of rubble Elias Edo had directed everyone towards.

He directed a bolt back to the legs of a shooter, crippling him instantly, never stopping his movements as he reached Edo's position, deflecting as many bolts as he could back to whoever fired at them to give more League allies time to reach cover. He teleported a Grenade tossed at their position back behind the one who had thrown, and he was Instagibbed as a result, before going back to deflecting bolts like Rhiza Dural was.

"Master Edo! I think I can take out that nest, if you want!" Nathan called out to Edo.

Lynda ( Westenra Mina ) in the meantime was a blur of motion, engaging hostiles in large groups with her staff, doing her damndest not to scare her own allies, her staff breaking limbs and ribcages, but not ending lives.

So she knows restraint. he mused as he deflected another bolt that had been aimed at him...

Lossa Aureus

 

[Ariel Yvarro]

IMPERIAL + DIPLOMACY
RIMWARD TRADE LEAGUE
K A Z A R A K
[ T H E M E ]

​

TASK FORCE BOUQUET​
Spoiler: Bouquet List. The Rae Sloane The Tessala Corvae The Lanzora Garan The Tishra Kandia The Terisa Kerrill The Havina Vonreg The Garmen Naadra The Rella Sol The Seawolf The Serpent The Sparrow The Storm The Sunbreaker The Strongbow The Dagger The Defender The Duchess The Dragon The Diomede The Daring The Dauntless The Danae

"Relax, you're among friends," today at the very least, Ariel was assured that the combined might that had been mustered between the Rimward Trade League and the assets brought forth from Primo Victorian would work wonders. Ahead of them were the Lucrehulk and the Eclipse fleet. Here in the void echoes of the past made themselves available for the present. Setting aside her cardigan, Ariel rose to her feet and examined the consoles there in the command center. A small blip told her that Mr. Bloodborn had departed from the ship's hangar. "Right then, I believe we have slaver scum to wipe out of the void."

Speaking to the Victorian Imperial fleet through encrypted communications, "ladies and gentlemen, you have your targets."

Shoot to thrill. A smirk across Ariel's face as the guns from the fleet let loose at long range while the smaller ships pressed ahead opening fire once they were in range. What a remarkable display of violence, thought the former Grand Moff, whilst the Sloane's mass driver cannons fired an array of 127mm and 152mm shells toward its target, the large Lucrehulk. The Tessala Corvae followed suit opening fire with its own devastatingly powerful cannons. Play to kill.

Ariel began to work on coordinating the fleet and in the process came to understand her mother's work. Or at the very least, could come to appreciate how much more difficult it was for her given she actively led hundreds more ships. Yet, before the Rimward Trade League those young and old would begin to see just how it was, and why the First Order was capable of ruling so many systems. As such, it was a powerful navy, laying down critical cover fire and suppression tactics to keep the Eclipse's bigger ships at bay.

Kurayami Bloodborn | Roth Tillian​

 

[Vad Logan]

Warning signals chimed in the bridge as turbolaser rounds began passing near the Generous Fox. The Ranger corvette was now in range of the big guns. Just barely. The Fox was small enough to make it a difficult target. The shots in their direction were meant to slow their approach more than land a killing blow.

“Approaching the danger zone, Captain. Orders?” a lieutenant inquired, paying close attention to an array of tactical screens. Logan did not respond right away. He had to play this right.

Smoke listed up from the glowing cherry on the cigarra clenched in his teeth. Vad’s focus remained transfixed on the battle in front of him. He hardly blinked. The smoke was no irritant. Red and green lasers darted between the capital ships ahead. The mission was distraction not destruction. The Fox couldn’t engage a battleship at close range but it could help clear the way for the larger vessels. More warnings broke the silence on deck.

“What’s Fox Squadron’s status?” Logan spoke from one side of his mouth through half-gritted teeth.

“Standing by, Sir.”

“Launch. Defensive formation.”

Some moments passed before four interceptor fighters appeared in front of the bridge window. Their yellow-white engines created a V-shape ahead of the ship’s bow. Logan smashed the cigarra down into an ashtray, bits of the nub breaking apart. He was ready.

“Command, this is Fox leader. What’s with the Imperial task force?” the pilot’s voice came through on comms.

“Check your briefing, Kova. They’re friendlies. You know First Order types can’t stand low-lifes.”

“Like us?” a crewman chimed in earning a few laughs around the bridge. Logan couldn’t help but smile. The cadet wasn’t wrong. Kova didn’t laugh. The female Mirialan was notoriously serious. She was a crack fighter pilot but lacked a sense of humor. The mood tightened up as more warnings ran out. The amount of incoming turbolaser fire quickly intensified.

“All hands, alert,” Vad spoke into the open comms channel. “Front. Target, enemy frigate. Two Five Zero. Engines, increase speed. Take us in close and pass their stern. Squadron, come in behind us then maneuver to their front side. The Fox is going to draw the fire of those turrets. As soon as those guns start turning, hit them with everything you’ve got. Focus on the long range forward cannons.”

“Roger that, Command,” Kova answered. The interceptors hit reverse thrusters and disappeared out of view.

“Divert deflector shield power to starboard. We’re going to need to soak some shots to give Fox Squadron an opening on those cannons. Gunners, keep your batteries hot. We want them pulling shield energy to the rear.”

“On approach, Captain. Engines full. Deflector shields online,” the lieutenant shouted over the noise of lasers impacting on the Fox. The ship groaned with the connection of each flak round.

“Open fire,” Logan ordered his gunners. A cascade of bolts rippled out of the Generous Fox as its twin turbolasers and heavy blaster cannons opened up on the frigate. Firing at the speed they were traveling was a challenge for any crew but they were used to pursuing smaller, faster vessels. Their aim was true.

The frigate reacted as Logan predicted. Clearly caught off guard by a corvette coming in so close and fast the slavers turned their light turrets to increase damage output. The Generous Fox felt it. Alarm claxons rang full volume. The crew held on tight as the ship shook violently under the barrage of fire.

“Shields sustaining heavy damage. Losing power fast,” a cadet yelled over the noise.

“Hold it together, rangers! Gunners, keep pumping. We want them scared for their engine block.” Logan shouted back. “Kova, what’s your status?”

“Fox Squadron, beginning our attack run now,” the pilot replied quickly. It was relieving to everyone onboard. They couldn’t hold this vector much longer. The nimble interceptors cut their way through the cascade of laser fire coming from the frigate’s dorsal side.

“Target, ion cannons. Missiles locked. Fire on my mark,” Kova’s cool voice spoke to her team, “Mark. Payloads away.”

The crew of the Fox couldn’t see the Squadron from their position on the opposite side of the slaver ship. They held their breath waiting for the next update to cut through the din.

“Direct hit. Cannons disabled,” Kova’s message came over the speakers. The crew cheered from their stations. Logan clenched his fist, pulling his arm downward in a motion of victory. They’d done it but the battle wasn’t over yet.

“Gunners, cease fire. Divert all weapons energy into the shields. Helmsman, evasive maneuvers. Get us out of range of those small turrets,” Logan ordered. The cheers of celebration died down as everyone manned their positions with renewed attention.

The slaver ship's ion cannons were its biggest threat to the supporting coalition fleet ships. Now that they were offline, the destroyers could move in for the kill shot. One frigate down.

 

[Roth Tillian]

Ariel Yvarro Kurayami Bloodborn Vad Logan
​

Space flickered around them as the warships opened fire on each other.

"Wait, who's that corvette?" One of the other crew asked, pointing past Roth in the cramped cockpit. Roth craned his head to one side, avoiding the elbow pressed against his helmet.

"Ranger Corps," Roth grunted, pushing her arm out of his way as he began nudging the throttle forward. "Vad's company- good lot. Bit scruffy." That brought an ironic grin from the others.

"Good shooting, Vad," Roth said across the comm. "We're coming in on your tail to duck into the dead zone you created. Heavy payload incoming."

The heavy ship vibrated beneath his feet as the throttle began to reach max. They weren't at maximum velocity yet, but they were getting closer.

"Armaments ready," the targeting officer said, stepping out of the small weapons bay. "Targeting computers coming online."

"Excellent," Roth replied, glancing through the canopy ahead. "But I never like to rely too heavily on computers."

 

[Kurayami Bloodborn]

Nearing the point of the bow, Kurayami switched his comms over to general Rimward Trade frequencies making sure that his transponder was correctly broadcasing as 'Yellow 13.' Granted he had never changed the tag on it only updated the codes so that the IFF was correct for whoever he was working with, that was easily enough done when you had a long career as a merc pilot though. In his mind, keeping a tally of those downed per pilot was pointless, all he knew was his kill count was sizable and still climbing.

Clearing the bow of the ship his small fighter wouldn't be hard to track by visual means, the mottled grey and bright sand yellow paint scheme standing out very well against the backdrop of the void. An entirely intentional decision given the speed and maneuverability alone it was a dangerous target. Coupled with the skill of the pilot and a couple other nasty tricks, like bandorium infused paint, modified 4x jamming suite and shart range IFF scrambler...it was going to sow some havoc among the enemy for sure. "Welcome to the party Captain Logan. Name's Kurayami Bloodborn, formerly a captain in too many kriffing factions to count. Should be pingin' n your IFF as 'Yellow 13.' Hope your hunt is successful. Force be with you. Bloodborn out." He cut the comms and banked up and to the right in a climbing spiral to get a better read of enemy positions before committing. As he did another squadron came into view, vectoring towards the main objective of the Lucrehulk. That was going to be a hell of a fight to get in and get out, not to mention to do much of anything to it. Question now was how to get in position to best be able to help as he was currently well above and at the nine-o'clock of the Rae Sloane after his sensor sweep of the battlefield. Only one way to go about it if you asked him, all in.

With that singular thought in mind Kurayami adjusted his attitude with very gentle inputs to the rudder and mentally timed each shot from the guns of the capital ship below him. This is why he was the best and also why so few navies actually let him train pilots in any capacity. During the charging cycle of the guns he nosed over into a nearly vertical dive leveling out, almost even with the barrels of the turrets, keeping his course corrected to follow the track of the largest bore guns he could find. Running a parallel course to the barrels his fighter should clear the ship right as the next salvo fired. Instead of drawing attention immediately it would give him a couple moments to push through any debris from unlucky enemy fighters and get the drop on survivors. His heart was racing as he felt the Force warn him of the impending danger before multiple shells raced past him at extreme velocities. There were only a few meters to spare on either side, but just as he hoped, a few smaller fighters had been sheared in two by the salvo, clearly drawing the ire of their friends. Perfection. As they closed to engage with what they expected to be TIE fighters instead the slavers were greeted with a literal wall of plasma. The first barely had a chance to scream before he was one with the void. Kurayami pulled straight into the vertical and pushed gently on the left rudder, sliding the craft into a graceful hammerhead turn. pulling level as he began to pull lead on the second fighter. It was only a short burst to send him spinning off, out of control. Scratch two, forward until more were found. Chances were near the main ship was an absolute hornets nest.

Ariel Yvarro | Roth Tillian | Vad Logan ​