The Curtain Rises (invite/ask)

[Desmond Voralis.]

"Oh, I'd love to get a look at whatever hauls they've been pulling in. We'll have to pencil it into the schedule if they look accommodating," he lifted the nearly empty glass in acknowledgement of the idea, before glancing towards the second Mando and the Gungan, "What about you? In or out?"

@[member="Mehrk Gorbi"], @[member="Squr Tyson"], @[member="Vascious Relens"], @[member="Olidiv Kenu"]

 

[Beowoof]

"Yousa can be countin' mesa in," Mehrk announced, arms folded and confident. He was aware of the possibilities that tis could be a scam, that someone might cross him later on. But he could take care of himself. Besides, the two Mandalorians were likely to take care of business if such a travesty occured. He would hardly need to lift a finger. The Gungan nodded towards Desmond and said matter-of-factly, "Mesa gots nothin' to lose for comin' out dis far."

@[member="Desmond Voralis."] @[member="Squr Tyson"] @[member="Olidiv Kenu"] @[member="Vascious Relens"]

 

[Desmond Voralis.]

"Good... good..." he smiled again, "Olidiv and I have been calling ourselves 'Curtain Call' when we work as a team, we're glad to have you all aboard." He lifted what remained of his drink in toast, "To credits and glory, my friends."

He downed what was left in one go.

------------------------------------------------------​

Aboard the YT-1300 Transport Carcosa, Outskirts of the Marzoon System, One Week Later​

Desmond took his turn on the controls, skirting through the system far from the local patrols and checkpoints. The rest of the crew had assembled again on Rodia, before boarding the aging transport and spending a few days in transit to the borders of Fringer space. Now, it was just a matter of drawing the pirates into an attack. To encourage this, he'd had the Carcosa's hold filled with munitions and explosives, weapons were always in demand among pirates and the black market.

They'd had a quick meeting with the Fringer Navy to coordinate their mission, and set out to work with a long range holocommunicator to call in the cavalry once they found the pirate base. It was now the start of the second day of their tenure as bait.

So far they'd been completely without contact, but that would only be a matter of time... He set a course to continue along the edges of the system and went to see how the rest of the crew was continuing to settle in.

@[member="Olidiv Kenu"], @[member="Mehrk Gorbi"], @[member="Vascious Relens"], @[member="Squr Tyson"], @[member="Dranok Lussk"], @[member="Sargon Vynea"]

 

[Olidiv Kenu]

Olidiv smiled absentmindedly, walking out of his small Methane chamber/bed room on the ship. "Hmmm, I can't seem to make us any less conspicuous," he mused dryly. He had already filed multiple fake cargo manifests with various planets, even using what little pull he had in the South Systems Bazaar to announce AHFUL's investment in the shipping lane. He hoped that the pirates would smell money. Still, he sheathe his swords, and finished compiling a few programs onto a datapad. After all, he had to make sure that when he stole this ship, it'd go without a hitch. At least, on his end.

"Des, how's she flying? Any sign of the pirates from whom we're liberating the cargo and ship from, yet?" He said with a boisterous, cheery smirk. He didn't mind the anticipation that came with a stake-out, but he was certain the others were eager to bust some heads.

 

[Sargon Vynea]

Sargon didn't like dealing with these mercenaries, truth be known he didn't even understand why they were being hired. The Fringe military was more then enough to deal with any threat in its borders, and most threats outside of it. He was a soldier however and he would obey orders to observe. He'd come with his standard equipment, and was ready for boarding action at a moment's notice. That wasn't his role however he was simply to follow and observe the miscreants as they worked and report back on their efficiency. He might not like the idea, but he would fulfill his duties honestly and obediently.

He'd stowed his gear in a small cargo compartment that he'd locked up as the most easily secure part of the ship. It was off the beaten path and no one would have a good reason to bother him, or his things. For now he wore a green robe that would cover his armor and the insignias of his rank and legion. He'd always liked green and it served to cover all of his gear, so why not? He wasn't exactly hidden, but he wasn't trying to be. Standing behind the group he stayed quiet and kept his own council.

@[member="Olidiv Kenu"]@[member="Desmond Voralis."]@[member="Mehrk Gorbi"]

 

[Vascious Relens]

One of their two Mandalorian mercenaries wasn't far away. Vascious Relens had been sitting on the floor indian style (to the extent that his leg armor allowed), and had his eyes closed in meditation. The sounds of Olidiv's voice made the man open his eyes and slowly push himself onto his feet with a groan stereotypical for an older man. The Mandalorian stretched for a moment before releasing a silent yawn and then nodding to Desmond and Olidiv.

"I'm looking forward to seeing these swords of yours in action, Olidiv."

Vascious was clean shaven now, but other then that he appeared about the same as he had in the cantina the week prior. He wore old battered Mandalorian plate armor and an old dirty and tattered black cloak. There were no apparent weapons on his person, and he didn't seem to have brought any onto the ship. In fact he had only brought a single pack onto the ship with all of his belongings in it. There was some various clothes, pictures of family, and hygiene products, but no weapons. The Mandalorian didn't even seem concerned about locking his gear away. Anything valuable was being worn.

 

[Desmond Voralis.]

"No sign yet, but this is the right neighborhood. Assuming everything on your end worked, they should turn up soon enough," he chuckled, glancing over at the meditating Mandalorian. He raised a brow with a few obvious, but unasked, questions. Meditation wasn't normally something associated with the ideals of the Mando'ade, at least as far as Desmond had ever heard. They'd certainly gotten a unique individual to answer their call for aid.

And then there was Sargon. The zabrak soldier had been an unexpected, though honestly not entirely unwelcome, complication. At the very least, another well trained gun would go a long way towards tipping the odds in their favor. He smirked, giving the man an almost teasing, but friendly, salute, "We all prepped over there, soldier boy?"

@[member="Vascious Relens"], @[member="Olidiv Kenu"], @[member="Sargon Vynea"]

 

[Olidiv Kenu]

He nodded to his compatriots. "I'll take that curiosity as a compliment, Vascious," he said with cheerful up-keep in his voice. "Honestly, it should be fascinating to get things moving forward," he mused calmly. "I wonder what surprises you've brought for our opponents , as well," he said with a smirk. He figured the old Mandalorian had a deeper plan than just beating people with his bare hands. Although, he'd once dated an Echani who could do a hell of a lot unarmed. Still, this'd be a fun show.

He nodded to Sargon. He was basically here to make sure the job got done, as per the Fringe's contract. He didn't really mind the oversight--after all, every show needed a producer. He ten snapped cheerily to attention when Desmond talked. "My slicing is simple, but elegant," he mused, "the breadcrumbs are good and set, the question is when the adversary will take the bait," He mused dryly as he looked at the scanners.

@Merhk Gorbi @ Vascious Relens @desmond voralis @[member="Sargon Vynea"]

 

[Sargon Vynea]

Sargon simply nodded to @[member="Desmond Voralis."] at his question, and what Sargon felt was an insulting term of soldier boy. He knew his personal feelings might already be interfering with his report, but he was trying to cut it down. Perhaps these freelancers were better bait then a military ship, but he doubted it. Either way they were an odd bunch, and they were trying to be pleasant he supposed he should reciprocate. "So whats your plan of attack once the baits taken? I'm assuming you have something more then board and shoot your way through?"
@[member="Olidiv Kenu"]@[member="Vascious Relens"]

 

[Vascious Relens]

Vascious smiled to Olidiv, before releasing a chuckle at Sargon's inquiry.

"Of course, friend, we also plan on not dying."

@[member="Sargon Vynea"] @[member="Olidiv Kenu"]

 

[Desmond Voralis.]

"I've got a little welcoming present rigged up on the access rings for them. By the way, might want to get a rebreather on when they finally do turn up."

They didn't need to wait much longer. An alert sounded from the cockpit, reporting a new contact on sensors, "Well well well... that just might be our cue now, boys. Get prepped, and someone get on the turret. We don't want to make this too easy for them. Might tip our hand."

He grinned, turning on his heel and jogging back to the controls to get a better look at what just entered their vicinity.

@[member="Olidiv Kenu"], @[member="Vascious Relens"], @[member="Sargon Vynea"]

 

[Olidiv Kenu]

Olidiv smirked, tapping in a few things on his datapad, pinging the ship briefly. He'd need physical access to break the security codes, though. He smirked, grabbing a seat and buckling himself in. After all, he was playing hapless traveller this time. He held hi "walking stick" calmly, making sure the remaining knives were carefully concealed in his jacket. "Surprise and manipulation are our best tools, Sargon," he mused calmly. "We'll use both to santch this ship from these idiots. Vascious take the turret, would you? I'm not good at pulling my punches with blasters..."

@[member="Vascious Relens"] @[member="Sargon Vynea"] @desmond voralis

 

[Sargon Vynea]

With a nod to himself Sargon left the bridge for his own little room in the cargo bay. While the mercenary team was setting themselves up for the initial contact Sargon threw off his robe. Sealing up his legionnaire battle armor, and his helmet Sargon switched his HUD system on to record the situation. Grabbing his shield he attached it to his back, and strapped his sword belt around his waist. Last he grabbed his IWS blaster rifle and put it into its holster. Locked and loaded he ran back up to the bridge to record the operation.

 

[Vascious Relens]

"You think I am? Alright, alright i'll go and play the part," added the large older Mandalorian before promptly exiting the area. It wasn't accurate to say that he ran, but he did jog a bit and bank a few corners with haste. Vascious headed to his quarters first to retrieve his helmet, and then made his way back up the ship where he found the ladder leading to the turret control chair.

The alarm trilled, but blaster fire couldn't be heard for some time. Relens waited until he felt that the enemy had gotten within the radius for them to be enemies beyond a reasonable doubt. Then the blaster turrets started to rapidly fire large starship blaster bolts into the cold expanse of space. It wasn't the well aimed bursts of bolts of a skilled operator, but rather streams of panicked trigger squeezing from an amateur. The bolts seemed to mostly be always just a bit behind the enemy or thrown wildly at them with no rhyme or reason.

 

[Desmond Voralis.]

Desmond pulled a rebreather and mask down over his face as he sat back at the controls. He was quite far from the galaxy's greatest pilot, but they weren't precisely trying to get away either. He hit the throttle in an apparent panic at the sudden arrival of a Pursuer-class Enforcement Ship, far from the class's normal corner of space. Any possibility it was in the system on legitimate business was eliminated by a look at the hull, decorated with several variations of a link of chain that had burst into flame. Their quarry had taken the bait.

Warning shots were fired across their bow, a voice forcing its way into the commlink, rasping with mild distortion, "Stop your vessel and surrender your cargo, resist and we will kill you."

Desmond didn't bother responding beyond a spreading grin under his rebreather, gunning the throttle and giving the controls an extra little twist and twitch with each maneuver, their borrowed YT-1300 screaming to their pursuers the apparent fear of its crew. The next volley of cannon fire didn't miss, the ship shaking as the deflector shield sputtered and failed against the onslaught. The cannons ceased firing, and the faster Enforcement ship closed distance, undeterred by the scattered, undisciplined fire coming from the transport's lone turret.

Desmond twisted away into a wild roll when they attempted to fire their ion cannon, the bolts of energy passing by a narrow margin in what must have been a lucky break. It didn't matter, the pirates simply switched to another weapon, one somewhat more insidious. It was obviously a custom mount, sticking off the top of the hull like an ugly, cancerous lump, but trained eyes would identify it immediately even before it fired its unique payload. They were carrying boarding harpoons.

Three dull thuds echoed in the Carcosa's hull as three harpoons made contact, piercing the ship's outer skin and flooding the vessel with gas. Desmond counted to fifteen in his head, and took his hands off the controls, letting the ship coast before the Pursuer locked onto them with a tractor beam and prepared to dock, "They've got us. Let them come aboard and then we'll show them the error of their ways."

He grabbed up his scattergun from its place slung over the back of his chair, and left to join the others for their ambush.

@[member="Vascious Relens"], @[member="Sargon Vynea"], @[member="Olidiv Kenu"]

 

[Olidiv Kenu]

Olidiv sat back calmly and waited for his opponents to arrive. He was already in his environmental suit, so Desmond's little "trick" wasn't too worrisome. He just smirked and laughed a little as everyone got into position. He stood up, smiling and half-opened the latch on his sword-cane. After all, in an ambush, speed was everything. Timing mattered more than firepower.

 

[Sargon Vynea]

Sargon hated space flight, hated it, hated the ships, hated the flying, and at this moment he hated the captain. This was of course all because he slammed into a wall rather painfully, but for a moment he hated everything about space. Pulling out his blaster rifle he nodded to the duo to signal his readiness. Moving out of the cockpit Sargon grabbed himself a nice cozy hidden spot behind a durasteel wall, and waited to hear footsteps.