Through the Radio Static

[Azerate]

Above the well renown fringe planet of Hypori, shipping came and went as usual to the factory hub, for what other use would a desolate rock such as that provide? Space chatter was usually filled with the orders from quartermasters and ship captains hailing in and out their shipments of droid, ship parts, and whatever other scrap could be of good use to the galaxy. Compared to what it was before the outbreak of the Gulag Plague however, i was quiet enough to decipher different messages between each other when using an open hailing channel. To any passing ships that may hear these messages, a sudden underlying static would start coming through the usual shipping jargon. It grew somewhat louder as time progressed and words became audible, a rather nasal and most likely alien voice attempting to gain contact. The words weren't taking shape yet, so it could possibly simply be another cargo ship with a shoddy connection, or something more?
"Ha-ha! I- er- ssis- quir- pped. Fa-Ry- Dr-Dro-! Can-op- hos-!"
The voice stuttered through the mostly broken connection. With luck it may improve, given someone went searching.

 

[Corvetta Salvo]

They were just passing through, only briefly docking at one of Hypori's orbital stations for a quick refill of the fuel tanks and to pick up some questionable 'supplies' before resuming their questionable flight to Ryloth. The ship's young, slender first mate sat in the technical station of the freighter, bored and passing time by listening in on broadcasts from orbital control and comm messages from other ships incoming and outgoing. As she shifted through frequencies, she encountered a rather peculiar signal.

"Ha-ha! I- er- ssis- quir- pped. Fa-Ry- Dr-Dro-! Can-op- hos-!"

Having been mentored in starfarer communications by her mother, Corvetta decided to entertain her curiosity and responded to the transmission, speech thick with her typical spacer slang. "Bouncin' your ping, Skywalker. What's your coords? Copy double?" She shrugged, not expecting much in terms of a reply but hoping for something amusing.

 

[Matreya]

ORBIT ABOARD ESFANDIA CLASS CRUISER

Listening to the jumbled signal that was broadcast nearby, then the swift reply from a station, Daemos pondered if he should aid. It had been sometime since he had chosen to aid in the rescue of another. But then again, it had also been a great deal of time since last he smuggled anything.

"Devan, prepare a return message." Looking to his second, whom instantly opened a connection, Daemos returned his gaze to the scene of the planet nearby:

"This is Captain Daemon of the Archangel, please repeat that last message."

He contemplated hailing the one whom also sought to aid but decided it best to wait.

[member="Corvetta Salvo"] [member="Zronk"]

 

[RC 212]

Static came across the Action IVs radio feeds and then a squawking unintelligible message. Colap leaned forwards in the seat his eyes snapping open and snatched a cigar from the pack on the dash console. A quick flick of his lighter smoked her up and his brown eyes squinted at the readouts, making out their contents through the hazy cabin.

Solar growled and stretched. colap reached out a hand to pat his Wolfhound companion.

"Mornin sunshine."

No sooner than the word left his mouth proximity alarms burst to life. Colap flipped the switches above his head, arming the concussion missile launchers and swiveled in his seat to make out the screen next to him.

"Hold on tight boy, looks like we got company."

Snatching the radio next he thumbed the button.

"Unidentified vessels, declare yourselves, or I'll be forced to assume you folks are pirates, and will open fire!"

 

[Azerate]

Down below on the planets surface, Zronk was starting to believe in miracles as he received not one but three replies to his continuous cries for assistance. It still astounded him that the comm system within the abandoned factory still was functioning well enough to reach the lower Hypori space, but he dared not question it. He fumbled to respond to the different messages, trying different frequencies and channels in order to get the clearest of responses.

"This is Captain Daemon of the Archangel, please repeat that last message."

"Y- s. Goo-! I'- receiving your messages! Tr-pped, trapped you see, within-... Factory! Down below on the pl-nets surface! Assistance is req-red! The droids, I re-activated th-m in an att-mpt to escape! But they target me a- a hostile! I can't fight my way out alone, rubble blocks the -trance!" After he had finished speaking, the sounds of garbled noises and movement could be heard in the background, followed by what could be determined as the sound of doors being slammed shut and locked. "I c-an hold them! But I -ed the help of -ll armed peoples! Gah! They are he-!" He may as well come off as a stark raving mad man, but could his accusations be true?

"Unidentified vessels, declare yourselves, or I'll be forced to assume you folks are pirates, and will open fire!"

He turned in to the second hailing-Not taking the time to explain his full situation but instead offering coordinates. "No! No- No sh-p! Stuck in abandoned f-tory! Coordi- X 3992 Y 4794! Z 73!" He then repeated the coordinates to the other to callings, but taking the time to explain to the third.

"Bouncin' your ping, Skywalker. What's your coords? Copy double?"

"X 3992, X 3992! Y 4794! Z 73! Assis-! Can't- Fight them off for long! Not e-ough fire-ower, need help!"

Of course he knew the likeliness of many coming to the aid of someone spouting off about droids in an abandoned factory was slim, but what other option was available to him? The best he could do was wait. Scrambling about the room he brought over anything that wasn't bolted to the ground and placed it in front of the two entrances to the communications center. He took a moment to peer out of the side windows only to see two or three misshapen and somewhat damaged Viper Probe Droids attempted to blast their way through the entrance, damaging it. He ducked his head quickly and hoped they would soon leave him be. To his luck they did, but for how long?

 

[Matreya]

Sensing the truth of the words, Damien rose, "Im going to aid whoever this is. May end up with an ally." Damien called to his second, "Contact both ships, let the latter know whom we are and that they hold no reason what so ever to treaten me. We came to attempt to purchase new land for a JAC factory, but if that is how those here treat emissaries I may very well go somewhere else.

The other, tell that I am heading topside. If they wish to help they will know me when they see me." Daemos finished. Clad in his Inquisitor X-1 Armor, with his saber snapped to his belt and his Cater Coat covering his being. In the rear of the ship, along the way, the man reached out to grab at what seemed air - but would later be revealed to be his Cloak of Shadows.

As he reached the exit ramp of the ship he looked about to signal all men to leave. When they had retreated into the fore of the ship, and created an air lock where Daemos stood, he clicked his Helm into place then opened the ramp. His coat whipped and yanked against what minimal wind there was in higher atmosphere, as he stepped forward.

Turning his back to the open skies, he held his arms out wide, as if some proverbial savior meant to be stuck to a bored...

And then he let the winds have him. Launched straigt from the rear of the ship, Damien rocketed towards the ground. As he flew, the Voice - his Droid mind that ran all of his equipment, armor and vehicle alike - shot hundreds of route projections across his HUD. None however seemed to be correct, and after giving the necessary coordinates, the correct path showed itself. Aligning himself within the directions given, he continued his plummet.

When the time came, and he was close enough to the factory in question, Daemos flipped his body so his feet were aiming for the ground. Then he murmured, "Thrusters." Thankfully, that was one item he always wore from his days when first he joined the Manda, thus allowing small flight or in this case to slow exponentially.

Thus when the thrusters deactivated, the smallest of Force Pushes was all that was necessary to not be harmed upon landing, "Contact the Archangel and tell Devan to await my return, but if aggression ensues to return to friendly territory. After which he can send me Winter."

Moving towards the door for the factory slowly he looked for signs of Droids. Wandering whether they were outside already as well.

(Left it up to you to decide if D finds any outside to battle his way through.)
[member="Zronk"] [member="Colap Ticon"] [member="Corvetta Salvo"]

 

[RC 212]

Colap cocked his head as more transmission came through and leaned back in the seat. It seemed the other vessels just hung about, which eased his tension. After all he was on the run from the Outer rim, and there version of the law was a blaster bolt to the head for theft.

"Looks like we're going for a ride Solar, come boy!"

Colap rose and made his way to the rear hangar bay. Solar plodded behind him, drooling on the deck-plates in anticipation. Before them lay Colaps prized beauty, an ancient Z-95 headhunter, outfitted to be faster and lighter than most fighters. Colap slipped in behind the controls and thumbed multiple switches, firing her up. His hand wrapped around the joystick and the familiar buzz of the engines calmed his nerves.

Solar hopped on up, taking his place in the seat behind Colap and curling up.

"Alright one last check."

With his last words Colap ground the cigar out on the dash and tossed it clear of the cockpit before slamming the faceplate of his helmet closed. It sealed with a sinister hiss and the cockpit began to whir shut. They were on their way...

 

[Corvetta Salvo]

Turns out Corvetta's captain was totally wasted and she could care less if they made it to Ryloth on his schedule when there was one of those good deeds to be done. Besides, he had not let her fly the thing the entire trip and her hands were itching to take the yoke-which is exactly what she did.

Leaving port, the first mate maneuvered the cranky YT-1930 off the trade ship route and onto an orbital path until a few degrees removed from the coordinates that had been radioed. Interestingly, an Esfandia and a Headhunter were making swift progress towards the same target. Hopefully she was not running into something fishy. She had acquired experience in search-and-rescue missions, but she hoped she was not getting into something over her head once she had located whoever was down there. She decided to announce herself, just in case. "Pitchin' into airspace. This is Freaky Foxtrot. We're, uh... totally friendly."

Breaching atmosphere, Corvetta wondered how people could last down there so long. The whole planet looked rather devoid of anything worthwhile from her perspective.

[member="Zronk"] [member="D-Man"] [member="Colap Ticon"]

 

[Azerate]

Moving towards the door for the factory slowly he looked for signs of Droids. Wandering whether they were outside already as well.

All he would find at the northern most entrance would be piles of bent scrap and rubble blocking his way. It's no wonder the one inside could not simply run past the droids, he was indeed trapped. The rest of the factory appeared dank and desolate as the metal was already rotting and rusting way from possible years of wear and tear from sand storms and the heavily oxidized air of Hypori. A set of high vertical windows lied around twenty feet above the surface of the dunes, but if one was to look close enough they may see the movements of Dark Eye Droids hovering about, like sentinels to lost ruins of a forgotten land and time. Showing yourself to them could set the droids off to warn the rest of the active droids within teh factory of intruders, unless they were dealt with quick enough which could be difficult.

With his last words Colap ground the cigar out on the dash and tossed it clear of the cockpit before slamming the faceplate of his helmet closed. It sealed with a sinister hiss and the cockpit began to whir shut. They were on their way...

Breaching atmosphere, Corvetta wondered how people could last down there so long. The whole planet looked rather devoid of anything worthwhile from her perspective.

From an aerial perspective, it wold appear the factory was inactive, and most certainly abandoned by it's prior owner, and even their identity was hidden for the moment. However it seems there were two entrances, one, surrounded by rubble, where the other appears to be guarded by patrolling Viper droids and a single XR-85 Tank Droid. Based on the appearances of these discontinued models, it was likely that this factory could have been working in various shady dealings with nearby Hutt planets in order to better arm them, or it was merely taken over by the same groups. As their ships approached they would be met with a rather nasty surprise, two partially damaged vulture droids had been prowling the rooftops, and caught sight of the ships approaching the factory. This most certainly was not a standard droid factory. The Vultures took to the air and began to split up, one going after each ship individually. They armed their weapons systems and readied to fire upon the intruding vessels.


[member="Corvetta Salvo"] [member="Colap Ticon"] [member="D-Man"]

 

[Matreya]

Looking about himself for a time, he sought entrance to the building. The main door was closed, and the rest of the building lay more or less bare. There were a few windows higher up, over the door, but his acute senses picked up on movement along the corridors. Waiting, and timing things as best he could, he leapt high into the air to attempt scaling the surface.

Gripping the lip of the window ledge, he reached out with his mind to see if any were nearby...

Clear. Moving straight up, with feline like agility, Daemos breached the window, in the form of a dive. Rolling across the hall, to lay with his back against the wall, dual 'Betty' pistols instantly drawn with one seeking opponents on either side. But no one was in sight.

Rising from his seat on the ground, Damien moved silent as the wind along the corridor with both guns held before himself. "Voice, motion sensors on high alert, mic amplification at 100%." He would need the full capabilities of his own senses, as well as anything else he could utilize.

Suddenly a blurb shifted across the screen to bring an enemy to his attention, a Dark Eye Probe, of which make he didnt know. However, for all his knowledge, no probe was made above the grade alloy durasteel. Thus, a single shot from both blasters was necessary from the over powered blaster pistol, piercing the hull of the droid to drop it to the ground.

Moving through the halls, he continued keeping on the highest alert he could. Some where within, there would be someone whom needed aid. This person could likely be beneficial to save, considering the location he found him, there was probably going to be information he could gain or possibly better.

[member="Zronk"]

 

[RC 212]

[member="Corvetta Salvo"]

"Copy that Freaky Foxtrot, Colap here and....uh shiz!"

Colaps eyes locked onto the screen as it beeped furiously. The landing pads below lit up and twin vulture droids screamed in towards his vessel. With lightning reflexes he jerked the joystick right and banked hard, continuing into a barrel roll. Colaps free hand slammed the throttle full on. It would have to be a tricky maneuver to throw these guys off them.

"Freaky Foxtrot, we got some bad company darlin, cross right and cut into my field of fire. Ill clean your six if you return the favor."

Colap flipped up the faceplate on his helmet and lit another cigar with his free hand. Smoke billowed about the cabin.

"Hold on Solar, it's about ti get heavy!"

 

[Corvetta Salvo]

Corvetta maneuvered her captain's Tachyon-class freighter into a steep dip, attempting to evade the fire cast by the ancient droid fighters. She scowled, disappointed in herself when she allowed a blast to impact the shields. The Headhunter was speeding above her in a revolving motion, confusing the robotic starfighters for a moment before they processed his pattern. Maybe now was the time to alert her sleeping captain...

Except he was apparently awake now and cursing at her from his quarters. The sound of his boots clopped about the deck and into the cockpit. She gulped. She did not need this distraction.

"What the heck are we doin', ya banshee?!"

He was drunk enough. Maybe she could get away with a lie. "NFs, cap! Didn't want us padding Twi-land, guessing." The pilot held her breath. Hopefully she had sold him on the Ryloth fib for long enough.

The Captain continued cursing, but his voice was trailing off, revealing that he had at least halfway believed her. She noted the pinging of metal as he ascended the center shaft of the vessel. Apparently, he was feeling alright enough to fire away at the droids from the turret. "Headhunter, we're gunnin' with ya."

[member="Colap Ticon"] [member="Zronk"] [member="D-Man"]

 

[Azerate]

Suddenly a blurb shifted across the screen to bring an enemy to his attention, a Dark Eye Probe, of which make he didnt know. However, for all his knowledge, no probe was made above the grade alloy durasteel. Thus, a single shot from both blasters was necessary from the over powered blaster pistol, piercing the hull of the droid to drop it to the ground.

Moving through the halls, he continued keeping on the highest alert he could. Some where within, there would be someone whom needed aid. This person could likely be beneficial to save, considering the location he found him, there was probably going to be information he could gain or possibly better.

(Sorry your statement about the droid sounds like an action, is he just acknowledging it's presence or did he just fire on it? Well no matter, I feel like if he fired on it the post is less confusing, so I'm going with that. I will fix it if told otherwise.)

The prob darted it's camera towards the sound of the glass shattering from the hooded figure bursting through. It attempted to flee but was quickly dispatched by two well placed shots, one disabling the camera, and the second destroying the core processing unit of the droid. The only other sound made was a few electronic blurbs seeping out from the machine as it was let sparking and burnt. However he was not within a hallway-but on a catwalk that went across and around the interior of the factory, likely used by foremen to watch over the construction area. Below lay inactive conveyor belts littered with unfinished droids and parts scattered about. But, some movement seemed to be visible through the dusty fog lit up only by the scorching sun beating through the windows, some droids were indeed active, and by no means was it a small amount. Whether it be stand issue protocol droids or even the once mighty Droideka, used by the Trade federation years passed, wandered the hallways between the belts and machines, however many were already damaged or at least disabled in various systems. The catwalk seemed to have two paths, eastward, leading down a flight of stairs to the ground level where if he wished to find the being who asked for his assistance, he would have to battle his way there. Or, the westward path, which would lead to the interior of the factory where many offices of management and security, no doubt these would be monitored as well by the eye droids, but it would require a more stealthy approach.
Meanwhile, in the airspace above the factory...

Colaps eyes locked onto the screen as it beeped furiously. The landing pads below lit up and twin vulture droids screamed in towards his vessel. With lightning reflexes he jerked the joystick right and banked hard, continuing into a barrel roll. Colaps free hand slammed the throttle full on. It would have to be a tricky maneuver to throw these guys off them.

Corvetta maneuvered her captain's Tachyon-class freighter into a steep dip, attempting to evade the fire cast by the ancient droid fighters. She scowled, disappointed in herself when she allowed a blast to impact the shields. The Headhunter was speeding above her in a revolving motion, confusing the robotic starfighters for a moment before they processed his pattern. Maybe now was the time to alert her sleeping captain...

The Vultures remained on their targets, however both barrages of laser fire were dodged well by the captains respectively, and only the shields of the Tachyon-Class were damaged. The vulture droids remained on the tails of the ships, but changed their tactics, locking on to the ship opposite of what they were chasing and firing a single homing missile each. Luckily their targeting systems were by no means the greatest and the missiles seemed to veer or swerve off of their exact target, they could easily be avoided with good piloting.

 

[RC 212]

*BEEP BEEP*

"Yeah yeah, I see it, shut up!"

Colap smashed the console with his fist hitting the switch to silence the loud raucous noise. He was already tracking the missile, no need for all that.

"Damn machines."

The missile was closing in on him, but also his fellow pilot in the other vessel. Years of watching old dogfights on holovid gave him a pretty good idea of what to do. Compounded by the fact that he had been running from pirates for a few years.

"Freaky Foxtrot, bank left now!"

Colap cut right, spinning his craft again before killing the engines. The Headhunter lurched to stop, just long enough for her targeting array to catch the missile. Drunken reflexes took over, his finger slid down the smooth handle to the trigger and smashed it. Both laser cannons stitched a pattern across the void, slowly closing in and then...

Kaboom!

"Whoo you see that Solar, like landing Twi'leks in a brothel!"

The missile shattered into a violent eruption of flame and shrapnel. Colaps eyes widened as he remembered he still had his own missile to deal with. And it looked to be coming in fast.

"Frak me!" He muttered as he tilted again, this time rolling left and diving. Meanwhile ash from the cigar flew furiously about, peppering his view-port as it burned violently.

 

[Corvetta Salvo]

Corvetta did as she was advised, rolling the ship and veering to the portside, keeping an eye on her friend in the Headhunter. Bursts of plasma ripped through sky from his fighter and found their mark on the missile, transforming the projectile into a bright fireball. "Nice sizzle, champ!" she shouted into her headset, congratulating the other pilot on his marksmanship. "Hold on," she muttered to the side, not so confident in her captain's shooting skills.

Of course, she also forgot how selfish her captain was. He twisted the turret and began firing at the two Vultures, slashing one and connecting a direct hit with the other. "Frakkit, you son!" she cursed at her employer, distraught at his apathy for the Headhunter flyer.

"Ride the repulsors, buddy," the girl requested of Colap. Grimly, she maneuvered the freighter to cross paths with the fighter. "I'm gonna shunt over ya."

[member="Colap Ticon"] [member="D-Man"] [member="Zronk"]

 

[RC 212]

[member="Corvetta Salvo"]

No sooner had she spoken then Colap was on it. His finger flipped the repulsor switches furiously and the Z-95 lurched backwards, directly and forcefully.
The sudden maneuver caught Solar off guard and the frenzied wolfhound let out a loud snarl.

"Cool it boy, we're just fine."

The wounded vulture droid was almost in his sights. With deft hands he shoved the joystick left and pulled his trigger. Another dual burst of laser fire spattered across the void towards it....

but the light from the missile still flashed in his eyes. Frustrated Colap spit the cigar but out at the cockpit canopy. Ash and spark sputtered everywhere.

"Little help!" He roared over the comms, as the missile closed ever faster.

 

[Corvetta Salvo]

Corvetta heard the Headhunter pilot's shout for assistance but did not respond. She was already on it. Positioned over the Z-95, the spacer girl cut the thrusters and allowed the Tachyon freighter to drop into a free fall. Her stomach fled to her throat and she would be lying if she claimed she was not nearly scared to death, but she had to make a quick decision and this was it.

The smuggling vessel plummeted through the sky, directly in the path of the missile. Her captain screamed and cursed and threatened her life the entire time, but this was the only way Corvetta assumed he would care enough to protect the other pilot--by being forced to protect himself. A rapid burst of gunfire eventually erupted from his turret and smashed into the ballistic projectile, triggering its premature explosion. The pilot girl then immediately flicked on the repulsor systems and ignited the booster jets, setting a course for the old factory.

"We're good by my mark." She was fairly certain she was going to be kicked off the ship as soon as they landed...

[member="Colap Ticon"] [member="Zronk"]

 

[Matreya]

Leaping over the railing, leading to the populated bottom, Damien wrapped himself inside his Cloak of Nuun. Moving as silent as death, The Hammer attempted to slip past hundreds of droids. Droideka, Battle Droids, Assassins, so many it was nuts...

Then he made a mistake, by bumping into a large Probe that he hadnt seen. Launching into movement, Daemos did his best to bob and weave past them on his way. Firing instantly began, all around himself, and he barely made his way to place his back against a small metal barrel.

Sending his mental essence outward, Damien attempted to find his target.

[member="Zronk"]