Weekend Treasure Hunt Infinity: At Last We Will Have Revenge (Open to All)

[Aeron Kreelan]

GALACTIC ALLIANCE
Omega Pyre Fleet
[member="Ayden Cater"] [member="Cathul Thuku"] [member="Astarii Saren"] [member="Veino Garn"] [member="Zark"] [member="Karen Roberts"] [member="HK-36"] [member="Tiland Kortun"] [member="Aerion Ivelisse"]
Rogue One/CO – Commander [member="Asmus Janes"] “Slick”
Rogue Two – Flight Officer [member="Aedan Lochlan"] “Beardface” [OCC LOA]
Rogue Three – Vacant
Rogue Four – Vacant
Rogue Five – Lieutenant [member="Loske Matson"] [OCC LOA]
Rogue Six – Flight Officier [member="Cal Sedaire"]
Rogue Seven - Lieutenant Choli Vyn “Smalls”
Rogue Eight – Flight Officer [member="Vale Endriss"] "Eight Ball"
Rogue Nine/XO –
Rogue Ten – Vacant
Rogue Eleven – Vacant
Rogue Twelve – Flight Officer [member="Lucius Varad"] “Songbird”
Rogue Thirteen – Flight Officer [member="Allyson Locke"] “Lucky”
Rogue Fourteen – Lieutenant [member="Owen Holst"] “Pie”

---

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The distress call would ping from hypercomm relay to hypercomm relay. It spread from one end of the galaxy to the next. There had already been several players in hand.

One of the many that would receive it would be the small mercenary Omega Pyre fleet. They had been returning to Alliance space when they received the distress signal.

"Commander Vier." the First Officer approached the Commander, a purple skinned native of Fondor.

"We have intercepted a distress signal from a vessel called the Itsukusk."

"From what location?"

A few taps of the screen and a map came up.

"Velok's Maw."

A frown settled upon the thick bushy brows. They didn't know much about this location, but spacer tales often mentioned cultists and the worst of fears come to life.

However, it was a distress signal...

"Set course to intercept."

 

[Gilamar Skirata]

The Shriek-Hawks had been on patrol. Some rich Hutt felt that his vassals were getting out of hand, sending pirates after his illegal shipments. Gil hadn't been in the field in months and had opted to join the fray. His fleet was small, but intimidating to the average pirate group. A single RNCR Pygmy-Class Battleship, three Tu5k's and a Mandalorian Medical Frigate. The small battlegroup floated aimlessly through space until a com officer aboard the Pygmy dubbed The Roost took note of a near by Distress call.

Assuming too quickly that these were the Hutt's ships Gil gave the command to jump. It was a hop skip and a jump away from them. When they arrived the shadow of the great ship loomed over them blanketing the entire bridge in its darkness. Regardless Gil saw the opportunity.

"This is Gil Skirata reaching out to any and all Mandalorians near by or at home, Polis Masa is under attack by an unknown assailant. The Ship is massive, anyone feel like being a pirate today?"

[member="Draco Vereen"]

 

[Ayden Cater]

In the last decade, there had been numerous instances of Force disturbances, errant emergences, and knowledge vault exposures that Ayden at all times had a program checking for reports that could fall under such a purview. And this soundly qualified. As a member of an ancient order dedicated to the preservation and containment of ancient knowledges, both hostile and benign, Ayden understood the perils that came from these situations. Many simply saw power and sought to claim it. He saw death and chaos and a meddling in things best left forgotten. So it was with that premise that he had assembled a group to patrol at times when he could not. And this was such a time.

When the call went out, in short order a small fleet was dispatched to Polis Massa. En route, each ship was given a brief of the most recent activity and noteworthy history of the system, namely the Dark Harvest Incident. It occurred during a point before Ayden Cater had assumed the mantle of Lord Protector, when he was simply the Exarch of Corellia. He had arrived in the system to combat the Sith. In the end, he nearly started a war with the Republic as he clashed with then-Supreme Chancellor Ardak Serifen. Blood had been spilled, and though the true source of the conflict came from an ancient, forgotten relic of Sith designs, there was nevertheless a great deal of animosity between the fledgling Protectorate and the Republic for years to come, stemming from the dismissal of Ardak by the Senate while Ayden escaped justice in the eyes of the Republic.

As a message came in from the Prex of OmegaPyre, [member="Aeron Kreelan"], Ayden's task force was pulling out of orbit over Sullust. At the head was the Star of Corellia, an Antilles-class Star Defender. It was the pride of the task force, the flagship that led them out of high orbit and towards Polis Massa. Flanking it on either side were a pair of Noble-class cruisers. Just behind the trio was a prototype ship, the development testbed for a new carrier. With its massive hangers and swarms of fighters that orbited it, there was no hiding its status as a dedicated carrier. Though it was still technically a prototype, this sort of thread demanded the presence of every available weapon. Eight Horn and Unyielding-class cruisers trailed behind, followed by a dozen blockade runners. It was a varied fleet, not yet sure what sort of thread they would be encountering. But they knew that they wouldn't be alone. Other members of the Galactic Alliance would be there.

The only question that was left unanswered was... who else would answer the distress call?

 

[Aeshi Tillian]

Imynusoph
0300 hours
CEC MXC-1150 StarDream

Aeshi brushed her hands across her vest, wiping off most of the grease from her hands. She had a cargo hold full of fourth or fifth hand droids that she'd picked up in a barter. Hopefully there's be people here willing to purchase or barter for them. If not, there were worlds not that far away in need of cheap droids and not much of a supply out here. Most cases, they're expensive. But as used as these ones were, Aeshi would sell for cheap. Not cheaper than she paid, but cheap for droids.

Already the droids were being transferred from the hold to the outpost with just a few more to go. Her ship was already in process of being refueled and just about done. Her mattress was calling her name. Nothing fancy, but it was hers, and it was safe and moderately comfortable. Softer than a melted mushroom, which some people would be appalled at, but for Aeshi, it was home.

Then an alarm dinged in the cockpit and she sprinted through the corridors to the console and read it- eyes narrowing with every word. A distress call from Polis Massa. That was just a hop, skip, and a jump from here- just about the closest system, in fact. She tapped the comm to Erupav, her Imyni business partner and occasional copilot.

"Eru, just got a distress call. Jumping there now. Get the droids off and get in. We might need the hangar space for survivors." There was just a quick, surprised squawk of haste, and then he was striding into the cockpit as well.

"Droid's off, captain," the tall feathered alien said, sliding into the co-pilot's seat. "Priming engines and cycling shields."

Aeshi nodded and spun her seat to face the navcomputer, tapping in the coordinates as precisely as she could. The Mark IV was a good enough computer for that, and with its speed, well, they'd be there shortly. The engines rumbled to life beneath her feet and they had lift-off. She spun around to the main controls once more to point the ship's nose upwards. It blazed through the atmosphere, helped by a quick burst from the SLaM system. The rapid acceleration shoved them both back into the seat until they broke atmosphere.

Engines pushed to full speed, Aeshi clenched her jaw as the computer locked on the coordinates. With it secured, she hit the button, sending the stars burning into streak and then blue clouds of hyperspace. She stood and strode to the equipment locker, strapping herself into her spacesuit, leaving the helmet off. Erupav joined her, working in silence.

Then they returned to the cockpit, waiting. Then it dropped out of hyperspace and she blinked in surprise. That was a massive ship out there and sensors detected remains of customs ships left in its wake. Most still hot, with a few survivors remaining.

"Eru! Get your hands on whatever data you can find on this ship or.." Aeshi paused. Something felt strangely off about this area and this asteroid. It was dark, radiating fear. "And this asteroid. Something's not right."

She looked at the scanners again, counting the number of ships who had responded to the distress call. A Mandalorian task force and an OmegaPyre marked fleet, with sensors indicating a massive fleet approaching through hyperspace. And here she was in a light freighter with several fleets of capital ships.

Things were going to get interesting.

She activated the shields, pushing them to full power, ship still idling as she watched the movements of the ship, trying to get a grasp on its size. It looked to be nearly 5km long. Not even close to the Omega, certainly, but still. This thing had power.

"Ship's called Itsukusk," he said, reading from the display, "Asteroid, according to legends, is Velok's Maw. Big battle here a ways back. Both listed as Sith origin."

"Sith? Feth. Last thing I wanted to find on a distress call," Aeshi rose for a moment and buckled her gunbelt to the outside of her spacesuit. She didn't like having them aboard a ship, certainly not using them. The Warden teachings forbade it, but if there was Sith around, she figured it was better safe than sorry. And if they hit up the asteroid, she wanted them there too.

"Aye, captain," Eru responded, stroking his neck feathers with his talons. "But we might be able to do some tree-solid work."

Aeshi nodded and opened the channel.

"This is Captain Aeshi Tillian of the freighter StarDream, responding to the distress signal. Sensors are picking up survivors aboard some of the wrecks. If any of you fleets care to provide some covering guns, I can retrieve them and escort them to safety. Should have plenty of room for them all."

She paused for a quick moment.

"We're small enough not to be a threat, so we might be able to get in close for the survivors without getting blown three sectors away."

[member="Ayden Cater"] [member="Gilamar Skirata"] [member="Aeron Kreelan"]

 

[Laira Darkhold]

"This is Shukalar. We read you Skirata. In route."

Draco turned and tapped keys on the command console. "All Mandalorian Channels respond. Coordinates in transmission from Gilamar Skirata. Prep for boarding actions." With the broadcast sent, the warlord gathered his own things and turned to his kin.

"Strike Cruisers. I want them. Boarding torpedoes, boarding pods, and Orar'uliiks for quiet entry as well. Let's get moving. If they are under attack as of now, we need to pull assets from the Outback to assist as well. Send that call to Rach to get an advance group from there into the system for scouting."

The warlord strode through darkened halls to the armory where he could hear men and women grabbing weapons and gear, running equipment to gunships and shuttles. Above Alderaan, in the night sky, a Strike Cruiser could be seen dropping into the atmosphere to begin taking on warriors and equipment for them. A very large Sith vessel was attacking Polis Masa with some back up most likely. He couldn't imagine a massive ship going into battle half cocked and with no escorts.

"Load up."

[member="Arrbi Betna"] [member="Anija Betna"] [member="Ordo"] [member="Arla Balor"] [member="Gray Raxis"] [member="Stardust Raxis"] [member="Ijaat Mereel"] [member="Monroe"] [member="Alec Rekali"] [member="Ronan Vizsla"] [member="Vilaz Munin"] @O'saam Echoy'la

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

He had fears. He wasn't the first to admit it but he was the first to acknowledge them, inwardly. Failure, ever the wound that bled inconveniently, and the thoughts of a life created from the fires of an unfortunate past, splayed open by a tyrant. He couldn't admit it: The impact that loss had had on him, so long ago, as he was pinned against rock by wrought iron. A success undone by imminent failure, visions of blood trickling between the crevasses of eroded stone, and the irreparable mistake made by a Jedi Marshal beyond his prime.

He could at least admit that. He wasn't as young as used to be. That youth was wasted in confusion and illusion and the subtle loss of control.

The starfighter pivoted forth from the black hole among the blackness of space, belched out by star dust and the warped image of stars and planetoids. He wasn't the most experienced pilot. Turn the stick to the left, it might go left. Do the opposite, and he wasn't sure where the thing would end up. But he knew what his eyes told him. A big ship, architecture felt antiquated, even for a laymen. Pock marked as asteroids of Polis Massa deflected from the shimmering shield. Every single impact was but minutiae against the frame of the beast, sending delicate ripples against the surface of the energetic barrier.

But this ship, this behemoth, it wasn't the reason for his arrival. He couldn't feel the ship coursing through the fabrics of the force. It was but twisted metal and glass and whatever else ancient beings melded to craft such a weapon. No, his focus was upon the singular asteroid that showed the scorches and blackened marks of a ship now wasted. It was this ball of iron and stone that birthed such fearful memories of the past he longed to forget. He knew fear more than most but even then, he knew when fear was being conjured. There was something wrong about the place.

Clicking on the comms, he sent communications over to the Galactic Alliance. Jedi Marshall en route to Velok's Maw. He had once earned that rank, now he would try to uphold it. And he'd start by aiming the ship of the nose towards the recessed airlock, the image of which was caught in every third or forth rotation of the spinning asteroid.

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Devil Eyes Warden-class Sentinel Frigate
Witch Sight Ulur'uur-class Frigate

Aboard the Devil Eyes

Comlink buzzed and a broadcast slipped through the Old Man's tactical display. Draco was well aware most of what Rach had in TKO space was a single Star Destroyer and monitoring vessels. The best he could manage was a scout mission on the system and a solid sensor reading of the enemy ship to send to the Mandalorian crews. "An all Mandalorian Frequencies call to arms. With basically no tactical data. Excellent. Draco runs a tight shift doesn't he Hana?" He didn't bother to glance over his shoulder at the young woman in fatigues behind his command chair. She was always right there, holding a data-slate, whispering into his ear as she deemed appropriate.

"Yes Sir." She said impassively without any tone of understanding the sarcasm in Rach's voice. He knew she caught it, she just didn't pay it the time of day to acknowledge it. She was annoyingly professional like that, much to his chagrin.

"Fine. Reroute the Devil Eyes and Witch Sight to Polis Masa outer system on Quiet one. Passive Sensors and Hyperwave interceptors until we have some clue about what it is we are running into. I want to have some kind of early warning to send to the vode that are on their way in given that all systems broadcast that just went out." He huffed quietly and settled into his chair, giving the helmsman a nod. Klaxons all over the bridge began chiming, notifying everyone of the sudden change of plans and prepping the crew to ready stations of entering a potential combat zone.

Within a few seconds the blue tunnel of hyperspace filled the windows field of vision as they began the quick trip from Outback space to Polis Massa. Rach tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair nervously, waiting to go up against the second massive enemy vessel he had encountered across his life time.

 

[Kenrath]

Location: Enroute to Target

Allies:
[member="Draco Vereen"] [member="Arrbi Betna"] [member="Anija Betna"] [member="Ordo"] [member="Arla Balor"] [member="Gray Raxis"] [member="Stardust Raxis"] [member="Ijaat Mereel"] [member="Monroe"] [member="Alec Rekali"] [member="Ronan Vizsla"] [member="Vilaz Munin"]

Spoiler: Equipment

http://starwarsrp.net/topic/4949-vornskr-mark-8-scattergun/
http://starwarsrp.net/topic/10961-mandalorian-ripper-mk-ii/
http://starwarsrp.net/topic/91889-westar-rogue-armor/

Cole was standing next to a group of Mandalorians when they heard Draco's call. By this time a good number of them had seen him around and with Arla enough to pay him no mind. When Cole heard the message he chuckled to the group.

"That time again.............you guys don't mess around."

Cole winked at the group and started towards the Armory.

"Well you heard the man come on...............you wanna live forever." "Thought you guys were all about the fight."

One of them gave Cole a dirty look as they took off. Once inside Cole looked around for something that packed a little more kick than what he carried. After a minute he decided on a Mark 8 Scattergun and a Mark 2 Ripper. Cole started toward the ships when one of the guys stopped him.

"You got a death wish man.....you gonna need more protection than that."

Cole looked down at the same armor that had got him through the Omega crisis and shrugged.

"I like to be fast on my feet."

The man shook his head pushing Cole towards some WESTAR Rogue Armor. Cole looked at it for a minute before he sighed and started throwing it on.

"Fine you got me but I have a feeling this is gonna cost me my first born if this stuff doesn't make it back in one piece."


_____________________________________________________________________________________________________


Twenty minutes later Cole now kitted up jump on the last ship headed out. Cole checked and triple check everything while enroute to make sure it not only worked but that he knew how to use it. Cole took slow deep breaths. It was too soon..............he was crazy jumping back into the fray so soon after Omega. Surprisingly he didn't care though. These people had become like family. One looked at him triple checking stuff and asked him a question a lot were probably thinking.

"Man when is the last time you saw action." "You checking that stuff like it's your first day."

Cole shook his head as the guy next to him punching his buddy in the shoulder for asking Cole that question. Cole just looked at him.

"Omega....................with some of Clan Ordo."

It was all Cole said. It was all he needed to. Now it seems they were about to hit another ship...............at least at the mention of boarding action that was the first place Cole's mind went.

 

[Sal Katarn]

Polis Massan System
ANS Angler
Velok's Maw

We exited the missile tubes of the stealth corvette fast. Eight of us in all, launched two by two. Our Zero G propulsion had just enough juice to get us to the surface.

The squad maintained complete comm silence the whole way down. Space Ops Marines aka "Vacheads" are professionals, that's what we do - or what they do. A bunch of lab coats stuck me in the unit because that's what you do with a human you just rebuilt into a war machine. The squad thinks I'm a liability and they're probably right. I don't even know all the gadgets R&D stuffed inside me, but I'll serve proudly.

The asteroid's crevasse grinned up at us. Closer, closer, 'til we fell in between the gaping lines and starlight disappeared.

My boots hit the surface of the rock and sank into the dust. Around me, the others touched down.

"All here?" The LT.

We each confirmed, but I felt a strange sensation creeping along my spine.

"There's the Marshall's ship."

Shrugging off the Zero G propulsion, I checked my carbine. It fired hard sound. I'd be happy for the weapon in the tight corridors and wouldn't have to worry about over penetration the way I would with a blaster.

We moved toward the circular airlock. Was that the Jedi up ahead? I couldn't tell.

"I've got a bad feeling about this."

"What was that, Thule?"

"Nothing."

[member="Gabriel Sionoma"] | [member="Jorus Merrill"]

 

[Ordo]

[member="Gilamar Skirata"] [member="Cole Dagos"] [member="Draco Vereen"]

The big man sat with his feet up on the console of the pilot's station as he sipped caff from an old MandalMotors anniversary mug. The white ceramic mug with red and gold inlaid writing looked small in his big scar riddled hand. The caff was bitter-sweet and a touch on the cold side but otherwise a good Keldabe blend. He looked out the viewport into the black, its white pin-points of light forming patterns in the distance, as he waited for a new astrogation data to download before his next jump along his patrol route.

His aging grey-green eyes watched the stars move in the distance when the red flashing of the comm station stopped his silent musings and drew him to sit up right and turn his chair to activate the speakers. It was Gil, his former mentor and friend. He didn't answer at first, it was still too much to contemplate that the man he had been closest to was still alive. He had killed his brother while under the compulsion of the Dark Lord of the One Sith and just the thought of talking to the man after all he had done was a pain he didn't know yet if he could truly bare. What would he say? 'Oi, this is Ordo the guy who punched you through a kriffing building, let's pretend everything is back to normal and go fight the bad guys.'? He knew he had to respond. It was his duty, but how could he? Who'd really want him to? Maybe he needed to get out of the game altogether and just quietly fade away and spare his vode the trouble of having to remember him at all. He sighed heavily and sat his caff down on the console.

"Gilamar Skirata," he began, his deep gruff voice nearly cracking with self inflicted grief, "This is Ordo Ar'klim, of the Jai'galaar Akan. We are locking on to your coordinates. Eta, 20 minutes."

He closed the comm after broadcasting the message and rubbed his ugly scared face with a big hand. Another heavy sigh escaped him before he began punching in the hyperspace coordinates and brought the hyperdrive online. The Ordo-class frigate was not the newest design, nor was it the strongest but it was tough ship and that may be enough to help with whatever it was that they would be dealing with.

A moment later the hyperdrive was ready and he turned the ship to the proper vector. Then, in a flash of light, the ship disappeared into hyperspace and was on its way.

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

His gloved hand moved lazily across the airlock control panel, scraping away the dust. Catching the flicker of the sun, just as the asteroid eclipsed the view on the slow rotation, Gabe looked up from the glass visor of his suit. He heard communications across the comm signals, even the feint sound of engines and soft steps against the asteroid surface. The check of a rifle in a vacuum was a unique sensation, the way it was there and simply trailed away into nothingness. Echoing off the empty darkness of space.

Looking over his shoulder, he saw what he could only assume were soldiers of the Galactic Alliance, responding to the message for help. From the large ship floating in space, hovering like a massive shadow over Velok's Maw. Those that had left the ship, to investigate this rock, had perished in the flames of what some might call an unfortunate happenstance. But the Jedi Marshall remained unconvinced.

Waving the men over, he flipped the control lever for the airlock. Pulling out the metal column, he twisted and pushed the item back into the recessed face of the rock. The sound of hydraulics and creaking steel sang a soft note to the otherwise bleak rhythm of an asteroid on constant spin. That pit in his stomach wouldn't be eased, like hunger pangs that followed a cold chill along the length of his spine.

The doors opened slowly as Gabe stood, flashing the beam of his rifle light down the narrow entrance way. It had yet to be pressurized, another door inside would ensure an air tight lock during calibration. A theory resting entirely on faith, he looked back towards the soldiers and then towards inner airlock. As the lights flickered on within it, he cut the rifle lamp off and stepped inside, waiting for the others who might enter with him.

The rotation of the asteroid provided him one more outstanding view of the massive ship, the way it eclipsed everything else. The light of the nearby star illuminated space debris and smaller asteroids as they flicked against the exterior of the ship.

[member="Raph Thule"] | [member="Jorus Merrill"] | [member="Aeshi Tillian"]​

 

[Sal Katarn]

Velok's Maw

"Ten o'clock. That's him."

I couldn't see him in the pitch dark of the crevasse, except for the light from his rifle. Mentally cursing myself, I switched to night vision and watched night turn to day. It should have been the first thing I did when I touched down. The doctors replaced my muscles with strengthened rybcoarse and swapped out my nervous system for a synthetic neural web, but they never figured out how to give me common sense.

The figure waved us over and we approached. To the Jedi, our black, light absorbing armor probably looked next to invisible in these conditions. We'd be just a group of silhouettes with floating red visors drawing nearer in the solitude of the crevasse.

A long, metallic groan dragged on in the blackness. A wide circular airlock opened up at the Marshall's feet. Lights winked to life, bathing us all in a weak, artificial glow. We filed into the airlock after the Jedi.

"Marshall Sionoma, Lieutenant Dallows. This is 2nd Lieutenant Thule. Galactic Alliance Marines, Space Operations. We're here to back your play, sir."

Shockball, three years in the pros. Dallows loved his sports analogies.

 

[Jorus Merrill]

ALL PARTICIPANTS​

@Ordo @Cole Dagos [member="Rach Vizla"] [member="Draco Vereen"] [member="Aeshi Tillian"] [member="Ayden Cater"] [member="Aeron Kreelan"] [member="Gilamar Skirata"]
The distress beacons or similar transmissions, whether they came from the Itsukusk or the wounded Polis Massan patrol authorities, fell more or less silent. The ancient treasure ship, if this was indeed the ship that so many had chased for so long, continued to glide through the system without a care in the world. It deployed starfighters, old but nimble, in a screen around its primary engines.

Despite the armed vessels arriving insystem, the ship kept going, driving toward no particular objective. Its holed shields continued to flicker and dance with stray light. Its old weapons continued to traverse, orienting themselves toward targets of opportunity. Incoming boarding ships would face stern fire from layered defensive weapons, and capital emplacements better-targeted than they had any right to be. The Dark Side was strong here.

***​

[member="Raph Thule"] and [member="Gabriel Sionoma"]

Meanwhile, in Velok's Maw, the place's aura of fear swelled and grew more insidious. Even Thule, safe under the aegis of his Mechamiri pack's void stone, would feel a whisper of serious dread. A Mechamiri pack, at the heart of its aura, could blunt the majority of a given Force effect, but some inkling would still be felt.

Upon entering the place, they would find Velok cultists, killed by conventional melee weapons and then propped up in necromantic unlife. Poor guardians, but decent obstacles to buy time.

 

[Gilamar Skirata]

Allies: [member="Ordo"] [member="Cole Dagos"] [member="Draco Vereen"] [member="Arrbi Betna"] [member="Anija Betna"] [member="Arla Balor"] [member="Gray Raxis"] [member="Stardust Raxis"] [member="Ijaat Mereel"] [member="Monroe"] [member="Alec Rekali"] [member="Ronan Vizsla"] [member="Vilaz Munin"] [member="O'saam Echoy'la"]
Enemies: Flagship Crew
Objective: Board the Flagship/Immobilize the Flagship

A familiar voice came over the com causing a few to sigh in relief. But the voice of Ordo, one he had not heard in years, sent shivers down his spine. He was after all the man that had nearly killed him all those years ago in one of the fiercest sky battles he had ever been in. The fight ran through his mind again, the sound of beskar on beskar, blustering wind and howling Bes'uliik echoed in the deep dark corners of his mind. His vision became blurred, a strong hand gripping him by the neck as he and his combatant fell freely through the sky. A flick of the wrist and Gil was tumbling and tumbling and tumbling all over again through permacrete and steel. The familiar cold sting of a dursteel rod puncturing his gullet made his hands and feet go cold and numb...

sir...
sir...
GIL!

"Huh?"

"Gil, the ship's deployed fighters and its capital weapons are orienting themselves in our direction! The guns on that thing will rip right through Tusk 1, 4, and 7!" Gil cursed under his breath,

"Get those interceptors and gunships out! Split formation, the name of the game is survive. Ordo and Shukalar are en route we just need to hold out until then." He wished he could get the Skirata clan fleet mobilized but he wasn't sure if anyone received the message back home and he couldn't depend on them.

"Battle stations!" With that he passed control of the ship to another Mando and made his way to the hangar where his besu'liik eagerly awaited. Gil smirked behind his classic T-shaped visor and placed a gloved hand on the cold beskar claw of his droid companion.

"How about we take a peak inside that behemoth?"

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

The Roost wasn't a brawler by any means. Its main focus was to support and act as a mobile command station during invasions with half of its capital guns dedicated to the lower half of the ship for atmospheric bombardment it couldn't even properly utilize all of its claws. What it did have was a dedicated crew and some decent fighters, gunships and besu'liik to back it up today. The interceptors and starfighters poured from its hangars, or rather dripped and the gunships from the 3 Tu5k-class ships deployed to engage the fighters head on.

The weapons of the massive ship threatened the medical frigate and The Roost, but the three Tuk5s took the precious time the massive flagship offered graciously and began maneuvering to offer support to the starfighters and gunships. The stars erupted into a flurry of turret and turbolaser fire and anyone dropping out of hyperspace would not only need to not run into the asteroid field that was Polis Masa but also dodge possible incoming turbolaser and missile fire.

Also please don't drop through a ship, that would just be bad news banthas for all involved.

 

[Ayden Cater]

The Corellian-formed task force arrived in-system, the first organized response force to do so. Immediately the ships began to fan out and set up in formation just out side traditional long-range distances. They observed the massive vessel seemingly drift towards obscurity, save for the odd pin-point firing that obliterated wayward or unwary shuttles. Even if the ship was ancient by all accounts, it was not an easy target. No matter. The task force was already moving into firing positions. The Star of Corellia led the formation of ships around, moving into position to freely fire upon the ship's engines. Scans were initiated to lock onto the strongest power signature, hopefully the ship's reactor. That would need to be disabled sooner rather than later if the ship was to be claimed for the Alliance. Still, disabling or destroying the engines would suffice for now.

The heavy Javelin cannons of the Nobles and the Antilles exploded in action, each hurling multi-hundred ton slugs at the behemoth's engines. Scores of energy torpedoes fired, as well as many pepperings of smaller, mini-Javelin cannons. It was not a salvo that would breach the shields and bring the engines down in one go; it would take several of such assaults to even begin to approach that opportunity. But they had the luxury of time as other Alliance ships would be arriving.

Elsewhere, in a quiet corner of Alliance space, an artificial intelligence browsed the greater Alliance network and found the records of the distress calls. Interest piqued, it followed the data to the Polis Massa system. Tapping into some of the Alliance ships present, it started listening in and found a most unusual transponder code being broadcast. It was unusual in that it was almost totally unknown. There wasn't any recorded language the AI had access to at the moment that gave it any sort of understanding of what it was. A virtual grin came over its avatar as it processed this new development. Well it had something new to work on. So it began to close off access points to the Alliance network, retreating and closing off its entry points, before it started opening new points to a secret network established centuries ago.

Here, it had access to some very old knowledge databanks, including some very esoteric or outright lost volumes. It had to devote most of its processing power to tearing through the databanks. Somewhere in this digital mass, it knew that there was something that would have to key to this problem. As much as a digital being could be certain, it felt like it had seen something in this language before. But where...

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Devil Eyes Warden-class Sentinel Frigate
Witch Sight Ulur'uur-class Frigate

Aboard the Devil Eyes

"Reversion in ten." The blue swirling light of hyperspace was about to give way and drop the two frigates on the edge of the system. The best the two ships could accomplish was ward off a few fighters and collect data. Data collection and distribution was what Rach was after.

"Red alert. Battle stations." Rach's voice was calm, they were on the outer edges of the system where their long range sensors and communication interceptors could provide others would solid attack data, but it was still not something Rach was looking forward to. Being in a cheap frigate against a monster was not something he looked forward to.

"Reversion in three. Two. One." The blue tunnel dissappeared, giving way to bright white streaks of light slowly returning to the pin pricks of stars light years away. At the edge of the system, the two frigates immediately activated full scans and sensor sweeps of the system. The crew scrambled and Rach let out a sigh of relief. It was no Omega, and no spirit in terms of size. Still a monster of a vessel, and more than capable of wrecking its way through an assault fleet, but it wasn't a planet cracker.

"Deploy Hecr squadron in a close patrol pattern. All sensors get me tactical data if available on that beast. Devil Eyes is to relay all data onward to secure Mandalorian channels. If she pulls to extreme range, back us up and keep us out of reach. I have a strong feeling that she can gut us in one volley if she gets the chance." Warriors and crewmen nodded and went about following their orders, electromagnetic, gravitic, tachyon emissions, the full spectrum of sensor data including limited life form scans were collected. Not enough to get internal structure data, just to try and collect where the largest power sources were and the largest collections of life forms.

"Fighters deployed from Target. They are in a screen pattern."

The Old Man could see the Alliance ships starting to fire on the very large vessel. With a few taps of the keys on his command chair, he opened up a burst transmission to the largest ship in their flotilla. "Alliance Task Force, Mandalorian Forces in bound. It would be most appreciated if you didn't shoot at them." Rach sighed and looked around. He really wished he was on his Star Destroyer right about now.

[member="Gilamar Skirata"] [member="Ayden Cater"] [member="Jorus Merrill"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

He wouldn't pretend to understand the calling of the force, they way it beckoned with the ever slightest whisper. A chill in the already chilly airless void surrounding the asteroid. Gabe greeted the men once more as they all huddled into the airlock.

"Lieutenant Dallows, 2nd Lieutenant Thule..." He looked up as the hiss of the airlock preceded the doors enclosure. As the doors slid together, creating a pressurized seal, the Marshall could feel the vacuum turn over as the negative pressure was filled with something far more substantial. Presence. The weight naturally tied to ones body, often inseparable from corporeal form. "I hope I haven't given you the impression that I've got a plan..."

It was mostly joke. And mostly not. He was but a person suffering from visions, chasing snowflakes in the storm. And right now, those snowflakes were leading right into the stomach of this cavernous world.

The doors on the opposite end opened up with the same sort of ceremony. Unclasping metal and hydraulics, creaking steel, and the shroud of dust that fell from the caverns ceiling. And as Gabe turned in anticipation, the lights of the cavern provided the briefest image with faulty electronics and flickering construction lights . Dead things standing upright, removed from their rest. Tired and aching things, breathing heavy or not at all, as they looked upon the marines and the Jedi Marshall with gestures of hunger.

He had seen this before. Too many times to count. Memories of another life, a certain orb weaver, the dead dancing beneath her outstretched hands through the vibrations and pulls of invisible twine. Each yank of the knuckle, each animalistic expression crossing [member="Matsu Xiangu"]'s face, and the dead performed pirouettes for her whimsical fancy. Like playing with her food. Even through the filters of his helmet, the smell of decay and rot was nearly breath taking. And when the first one charged towards the airlock, he did what any sane person would do.

He gripped his rifle...and he pulled the trigger.

[member="Raph Thule"] | [member="Jorus Merrill"] ​

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Netra'kad Hra'nadetr Jair'Galaar-class Strike Cruiser
Fitted with MH-PU04, MH-PU07, MH-PU12

Draco walked along the drop bay of the Strike Cruiser, watching men and women scrounged up on a moment's notice. Most of the men and women getting ready to go into battle now had no idea they were about to be deployed just hours ago. "If [member="Caspian Rekali"] and his people can get the sensor data and fly us to as close as possible, we won't have to worry about a fighter screen. This tub can outrun most corvettes, much less a battlecruiser." Draco's voice was loud, ringing across the deck.

"Yes Alor, but, we don't really have a lot of men. Its one, two volleys of boarding torps and pods tops before we are out of complement and even then, we could start launching the crew, but they aren't all Mandalorian warriors like us." The Jarl walking beside him was a hair shorter, wearing a kraken head helm and adorned in small pieces of metal clattering against his beskar'gam, a trophy taken from each ship he and his kindred had raided.

"Well, they might have to get off this ship in a hurry, so make sure its an option. They may have to chose void or enemy ship. This thing won't last against a battlecruiser at point blank, but I don't need it to. I need it to put us on that ship. Where is [member="Vilaz Munin"]? He needs to prep his team to go through the superstructure." The warlord looked around the bay for the redneck mandalorian, seeking out Akaan to lead the charge on the enemy ship. "Have everyone ready to go and in their boarding transport by the time we hit the system." All he was really sad about was that he and Larraq hadn't designed that boarding frigate they had joked about.

"Yes Alor. Everyone but the Cult and the Solus Nek have checked in and are good to go, my Kindred stands ready to begin the assault as soon as you let us go." The Mandalorian pirate slapped his waist, the axe that hung from his belt hummed with the ring of metal striking metal. This wasn't the first time they had done something like this, but it was the biggest and most dangerous attempt, nevertheless the pirate seemed more excited than scared or nervous. They all did when Draco touched their minds in the Force, the thrill of one more hunt, one more battle laying before them all caused them no hesitation or anxiousness. Only anticipation and confidence.

"Make sure the Cult is participating. Who knows why they showed up." Draco glanced around the bay. "I don't think we will need the Solus Nek. If they don't show, so be it. If they do, all in the same pod."

The strike cruiser hurtled through the void, along side several other boarding craft of Mandalorians. There was just a short stop and then the jump to assault left to go, and then with any luck, and the Force, they would have boots on the inside a few seconds after that.

[member="Ordo"] [member="Cole Dagos"]

 

[Verz Horak]

Allies: [member="Ordo"] @Cole @Dagos [member="Draco Vereen"] [member="Arrbi Betna"] [member="Anija Betna"] [member="Arla Balor"] [member="Gray Raxis"] [member="Stardust Raxis"] [member="Ijaat Mereel"] [member="Monroe"] [member="Alec Rekali"] [member="Ronan Vizsla"] [member="Vilaz Munin"] @O'saam Echoy'la
Enemies: Flagship crew
Objective: Kill the Enemy!

Like the rest of his vode in the Cult of Kad'Haringar, Verz was prepping for battle against the enemy. The boarding deck of the strike cruiser was bustling with activity, with vode and crewmen getting the boarding torpedoes ready for their passengers. Soon, the ship that carried them would launch its barrage of firepower, clearing the way for the furious faithful to enter the stronghold of their enemy and purge it with extreme prejudice. Verz would not let any Sith stand in his way. He had lost too much to them in his life. He had seen them take away so much from his people.

Like many of his fellow warriors, Verz was psyching himself up for battle. However, unlike them, he wasn't thinking about who he was fighting to see, or what he wanted to protect. That version of himself had been eroded away over time. Once he had been like that.

Now he only thought of the brutal atrocities he had seen the Sith commit over time.

His blood boiled, and his bes'kad thirsted for the blood of his enemies. Sometimes, in the silence in his head, he thought he could hear Mandalorian warriors of the past, those who had become one with the Manda and waged war with Kad'Haringar eternally. He could hear their voices whisper to him, egging him on, pushing him to kill his foe.

 

[Kenrath]

Location: Enroute to Target
Objective: Sweep and Clear (Group 3)

Allies:
[member="Draco Vereen"] [member="Arrbi Betna"] [member="Anija Betna"] [member="Ordo"] [member="Arla Balor"] [member="Gray Raxis"] [member="Stardust Raxis"] [member="Ijaat Mereel"] [member="Monroe"] [member="Alec Rekali"] [member="Ronan Vizsla"] [member="Vilaz Munin"]

Spoiler: Equipment

http://starwarsrp.net/topic/4949-vornskr-mark-8-scattergun/
http://starwarsrp.net/topic/10961-mandalorian-ripper-mk-ii/
http://starwarsrp.net/topic/91889-westar-rogue-armor/

Cole and the rest of the Mandalorians around him slipped into silence as they made their final preparations. From what he could get out of the group they were headed for a rally point. From there it would be one more jump to the assault point.

Cole was not a hundred percent what was going to happen but he would play close attention and play it by ear. Cole had a long experience as a scout back when life was simpler. As the time got closer Cole slipped into go mode. Gone were the smile and smirks. Gone were the winks and chuckles. All that remained was the cold calculated focus.


Cole slipped the Ripper into his hip holster.................one hand gripped the Mark 8. Cole slipped on the helmet with his free hand. His eye dancing back and forth across the display and the information it held. It took him only a few seconds to get oriented to where everything was. Once that was done his other hand moved to the Mark 8.