IC: Q:TU-RG1: Dragon Pearl

[ post #1 ]

INTERIOR: SOLITUDE STATION- LANDING BAY

Scene opens into the bustle of activity in Solitude’s landing bay. Techs and repair droids move about, completing any number of tasks. On one side of the huge, cavernous chamber, VOOKO ZEELAS, WYNN ANTILLES, KELVIN RADEGANT, and TIA NEBULAR work on two very unique craft: Vooko’s Tancredi-Zeelas PROTOTYPE A-WING and Wynn’s PROTOYPE X-WING. In the middle of the bay rests a new craft, the MOONLIGHT MAIDEN, an older Phoenix Hawk pinnace.

___________________________________________________________

The A-Wing was mostly operational, and Vooko, with the aid of the stations techs, was mainly fine tuning the fighter and synchronizing its systems. Wynn, on the other hand, had enlisted the aid of Kel, Tia, and an entire swarm of techs to assist her in getting her X-wing space-worthy. The fighter had arrived, in pieces, on the Maiden, a freighter that had been scheduled to make a delivery to Eden just hours after the attack. It’s crew had assisted in the base’s cleanup, and delivered its cargo, bringing injured with it to its next stop, Solitude. The fighter had been ravaged by the fuel fire in the Eden hangar, but, all in all, it was only slightly more severe than an unshielded atmospheric descent, and the parts that made the fighter unique had survived more or less unscathed. Taking these parts from the fighter, the Maiden had arrived a few days ago, and since then, Wynn had spent literally every free moment, assisted or not, putting her beloved fighter back together. Solitude, being a fairly remote supply station, had a large stock of spare X-wing parts. Using an empty “parts” X-wing chassis, she’d made most of the necessary alterations, and her ship was now more or less spaceworthy. In another day, it’d be at one-hundred percent.

* * * * *

Wynn closed down the plasma welder she’d ben using for the past twenty minutes, wormed meters up inside the fighter’s fuselage. Wriggling her way out of the craft, she stood on the landing bay floor, stripped off her gloves and wiped twenty minutes of grime and sweat from her forehead. She’d tried the S-foil acuator, only to tear the port ventral wing strut right out of its housing. Now, after several long minutes alone with a plasma welder, she had a solid brace put in, fabricated by the station’s chief tech. Maybe now this overhaul would start going smoothly…

* * * * *

Vooko inhaled reflexively at the cold metal manipulator pressed into his side. After that first day, and the crazy party, the medical wing of the station had seized him as a veritable test-rodent. When he couldn’t manage to sneak away to tweak his fighter, Vooko had been forced to endure hours of testing, re-diagnosis, and overall needless monotony, all in the name of education. Solitude had gotten a decent team of core medical officers, but outside those four or five individuals, much of the medical staff was totally inexperienced. On top of that, there was only a pair of 2-1B droids and four FX-7 medical assistants on board to assist the Med team. Thus, they’d taken to using Vooko as a textbook example of common injuries sustained by fighter pilots. Yeah, he was sore, yeah his neck had taken to making some godawful cracking noises in the mornings since the battle with the Animosity, but he knew he’d come around, without help from these whackos. Still, he stoically endured their tests, though he was nearly sure each and every person in the med-staff had tested him at least five times…

* * * * *

Kelvin stood alone in Observation tower 24-B. He’d found that, while Solitude beat the hell out of Eden, he just couldn’t get used to life in a metal box. He’d been getting along well with Tia over the past few days, and when she’s led him to this little piece of heaven, he’d been infinitely grateful. 24-B portruded from the top of the old barge like a needly spine on a quillarat’s back. Originally designed to help a pilot make a precision landing, 24-B gave a good, 360-degree view of the surrounding area. One half of the view was dominated by the endless blackness and starfield of space, the other, by the hulk of the Solitude’s dorsal surface. The gray, metal mass, dotted with all manner of turrets, antennae, and towers looking much like some sort of eerie, frozen landscape. The galaxy itself hung overhead, its murky mass resembling an overcast sky to complete the illusion. While it wasn’t a real woodland, to Kel, it was all he could hope for way out here. Still, he couldn’t wait to tread on some real dirt again…

__________________
W.W.G.D. - What would Grimace do?

What kind of dust?
Dirt-laced dust. Probably originating from the ground.

[ post #2 ]

24 hours later...

KELVIN, TIA, WYNN, and VOOKO are working on Wynn's X-wing, and have just finished necessary repairs and have begun superficial maintenance such as painting and cleaning...

As the remaining group works on Wynn's fighter, they have some time to reflect on what has brought them together. Originally meeting each other on Eden, the Imperial attack had forced them to operate as an effective, if unlikely team. In the confusion that followed the Animosity's appearance, they'd managed to not only hold off the imperial attack singlehandedly, but also severely crippled the Animosity itself. In fact, the holo-feeds of the three fighters, combined with the approval of Solitude's commanding officers, had seen to it that Vooko received an official Alliance citation for a Star Destroyer kill. The citation, a bone-white bar, was meant to be displayed on a pilot's flight suit. Reports from Eden personnel established that Imperial rescue craft had succeeded in towing the Star Destroyer away, though it didn't look as if the Animosity would ever harass Rebels again.

Just yesterday, Tobler had received orders from CorSec: they'd received news of the attack and demanded that he return to Corelia immediately to report on the situaiton. As Solitude was a fairly secret station, they only had incoming and outgoing traffic for about a thirty minute window each day. Thus, Tobler's transport was set to leave early tommorow morning. The CorSec transport had arrived yesterday, with orders for his return as well as the means of transportation. The only other transports in the bay were the cigar-shaped hull of the Pachyderm, still dented and scorched from its narrow escape, and the Moonlight Maiden.

the Maiden was on older ship, a Phoenix Hawk - class pinnace that had seen its heydey some time around the clone wars. Still, they were able-bodied little craft, and this one seemed to be in excellent condition, considering its age. It was painted a light slivery blue, and, if one was close enough, a faint set of flames, done only in shading, could be seen running the length of the ship, in an attempt to resemble the old straight-racers from the time when the Maiden was a young ship. While her chassis remained more or less unaltered, anyone who knew ships could see that she'd undergone some significant modifications since she'd rolled off the Kuat Systems Engineering factory line. Her rear engine compartment nearly overflowed with bulky, high performance engines, the turret on the end of the main stabilizer spar was double-sized, sporting an extra pair of heavy blaster cannons, and a single missile launcher hung on a swivel, recessed into the hull, its carbon scoring marking one of the few areas of the hull that you couldnt see your reflection.

With the Maiden had come new faces. The ship's arrival caused a small amount of excitemeny for the crew of Solitude, as they got more news about nearby Eden, but for the people who were there, there was little more to be told, except that the people who'd remained behind were doing well, working on the cleanup.

The crew of the Maiden consisted of a brash sullustan, full of bravado, with an attitude to match and a somewhat more reserved human, who still carried himself well, and exuded an aura of confidence that was unmistakable, even next to his shipmate's boisterous attitude. Flying along with them was a second human who had a different sort of confidence, but had it just the same. Blessed with a quick wit and strikingly good looks, this man was a favorite with the female portion of Solitude's staff before he heven made it to the bottom of the ramp. Since his arrival, he was rarely seen without some sort of company, and he'd even managed to come across some rare and expensive wine that had somehow survived last week's revelry.

Now however, the "repair crew" is interrupted, as a junior tech walks up to the group.

"Lieutenant Antilles?", the young girl asks.

Upon being recognized, she continues, "Major Tumb would like you to report to briefing room 5A at 1730 this evening."

Then, message delivered, she turns smartly, and heads off on some other errand.

((OOC: Go ahead and post your reactions. Assume that you have about four hours until the meeting. You can do what you like in this time, but end your post with your entrance into briefing room 5A.))

Kell, Koss, and Remy:

Though the crew of Soliture genuinely tried to make the crew and passenger of the Maiden feel at home, they found they slept better aboard their ship. In addition, that's where they spent the majority of this welcome down time, playing holochess or sabacc in the lounge. Thus there was a small amount of groaning and eye rolling when they heard the unmistakable clank of someone rapping on the hull.

"Allright, we hear ya!", someone muttered, hitting the ramp release, "They don't know how much this paint job cost!"

In from the landing bay came a young woman wearing a tech's coverall. When she had everyone's attention she announced, "The Major requests the presence of the crew and passengers of the Moonlight Maiden in briefing room 5A at 1730 this evening. Any questions?"

As it was a fairly simple message, there were no questions, so the tech turns and leaves, adding, "Sorry to have to disturb you." She leaves without further comment, and only one half-glance back at Remy before she heads off on some other errand.

"Ah, no rest for the wicked, eh?", one sarcastically asks the others.

"The talented either", another opines.

((OOC: Same as the 'Old Guard'.))

__________________
W.W.G.D. - What would Grimace do?

What kind of dust?
Dirt-laced dust. Probably originating from the ground.

[ post #3 ]

Originally posted by coldskier0320 Though the crew of Soliture genuinely tried to make the crew and passenger of the Maiden feel at home, they found they slept better aboard their ship. In addition, that's where they spent the majority of this welcome down time, playing holochess or sabacc in the lounge. Thus there was a small amount of groaning and eye rolling when they heard the unmistakable clank of someone rapping on the hull.

Captain Koss looks up from the holochess game at this sudden disturbance. He bolts upright, and stomps down the ship's short gangplank. He throws his hands in the air, in an expression of exagerated alarm.

KOSS: What is this rapping?! There is no rapping on the Moonlight Maiden!!!

__________________
"Half the fun of God's forgiveness is having reasons to ask for it."

[ post #4 ]

Originally posted by boccelounge What is this rapping?! There is no rapping on the Moonlight Maiden!!!

Kell rolled his eyes. "Allright, we hear ya!", he muttered, leaning back in his chair and hitting the ramp release, "They don't know how much this paint job cost!" he added grumpily, annoyed that the rapper had ruined his enjoyment of Remy and Koss' holochess game. Add competition to this group is a recipe for a very long evening- something which Kell had looked forward to. We probably won't even get to my turn in the round robin now...
"Some people just have no respect for our recreation time. It's as if we're part of a para-military taskforce or something." the Alderaanian said more audibly.

In from the landing bay came a young woman wearing a tech's coverall. When she had everyone's attention she announced, "The Major requests the presence of the crew and passengers of the Moonlight Maiden in briefing room 5A at 1730 this evening. Any questions?" KOSS: If seeing this Major will please you, my dear lady, then I shall be double-- no, triply-- pleased to comply! He bows again, for some reason.

Kell, for what seemed to be like the thousanth time, had to stifle a facial tic.
"Ah, no rest for the wicked, eh?", he laments with a sardonic half-smile, tossing a look at Remy to catch his reaction to their titular pilot.
I swear- if he weren't as good as he says he is, I'd toss him out the airlock to save my sanity he thought, shaking his head.
As Koss storms off, Kell shifts his position to the Sullustan's former chair. "I suppose that's a forfeit on his part. We've still got time for a few games, even using military rules... shall we continue then, or do you wish to work on your own compositions?" he asked, wincing as he heard Koss shout a maddened babble of spontaineously created verse at the top of his lungs.
"At least he's using that energy creatively..." Kell mutters.

__________________
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Labor of Love

[ post #5 ]

Wynn was only too happy to get back out of the cramped spaces inside the fighter. How techs with way more than a foot of height & 50 lbs on her managed to keep from getting stuck, she'd never been able to figure out. But it was also satisfying, she thought as she returned the welder to it's place. Her mother had mentioned that there were once cultures where the warriors' rites de passage included crafting their own personal weapon--and the X-wing was Wynn's chosen weapon. Mother would be pleased then, that I'm doing this myself, rather than relaxing on a pillow in the corner while the techs do all the dirty work. She never held with that. But Wynn only told "her" crew, "Well, that's one more major thing off the To-Do List. You are the best! Thank you. I'll be buying all of you a few rounds to celebrate tomorrow night, it looks like."
A Solitude Ishi Tib tech grinned up at her. "Rounds of what, Ma'am? Tapani-style virgin sodas with cream? 'Bout all the good stuff was drank at The Party--but you'll remember that?"
Wynn felt her already heat-flushed face redden a little more. Thier arrival celebration had, alas, given the high-born pilot a reputation as something of a Party-Girl. But Wynn concealed her dismay at yet another good-natured dig and smiled back. "I seriously doubt that the bar's now dry, but if it is, I'll set up a tab. Right now I need to check up on a couple other things, so take a long breather." Wynn felt lucky, she hadn't had problems getting parts for her personal starfighter. Vooko had told her that could happen, if you didn't have a special dispensation on record. But Wynn hadn't had that problem, even though some of her records and stuff hadn't caught up with her. I bet Comm. Alkan or Gossipy Goldie told someone who I was.

After cleaning up a little, Wynn detoured to Medical, to see if she could prise Vooko out of Doc Goldie & Company's clutches for a while. She well remembered how she'd hated being stuck in Medbay while recovering from the injuries sustained when her fighter was damaged;but she'd needed to be there & knew it. Besides, she was starting to get worried over all the time they were spending on her wingman. I know Goldie says its "strictly educational" but maybe they found something. A muscle pull or sprain from uncompensated cockpit Gee's can't be that different from one gotten sparring or playing grav-ball, after all? Lt. Antilles also wanted the younger pilot to help her with the inertial compensator they were ready to install on her snub. She wanted her friend's take on whether 0.98 might might work for her. Wynn couldn't tolerate the 0.95 setting so many hot pilots swore by--all it did was make her sick as a Hutt's food-taster, almost as bad as she'd felt the day after That Party.
Goldie greeted Wynn warmly, and took advantage of the woman's arrival to give Vooko a short respite while she gave the less-experienced medics an impromptu lecture on skull injuires, one of the Bothan surgeon's specialties. Although Wynn consented to let Goldie show where her head had been cracked & why, and then described the headaches that plagued her recovery, the Alderaanian lieutenant refused to be another test-rodent. Wynn liked Doc Goldie & appreciated her treating the hangover--but not to the extent of becoming a second test-rodent. The prescription had worked--but Wynn never wanted a medic to tell her "Roll over" again.

That night, Wynn didn't tumble into her bunk and fall asleep right away, as she'd done after all those other long stretches restoring her X-wing. Instead she flipped through some datapads and holos--and not, tonight, schematics and tech references. These--and a bit of jewelry and clothing--were the only mementos she had of Aldaraan.
Some family holos. Her and Trevor at play as kids. Funny, she'd never noticed that Leia and Winter were also in that one before. Grandparents. Other family friends, like Lord Leto Janus, the royal surgeon. A formal portrait taken when she'd been about 16. It had been made just before a Life Fete ball. Wynn was wearing a gown like her mother's, loose-cut, in a translucent fabric, like many Alderaan gowns. She lingered longest, tears prickling her eyes, over one of her as a little girl, with Raymus Antilles. At that age, her red-gold hair was more red than gold, although the reverse was true now.
It had been taken on Tantive IV and her dad was wearing the old-style Alderaan livery, blue-grey with the elliptical tabard. Wynn was wearing the long, heavy cloak that completed a high-ranking officer's uniform. That was a shakedown cruise after some upgrades. Her dad had sat her in his own bridge seat, and had her repeat the commands to leave orbit that he'd whispered in her ear. Somehow, losing her father was the worst of the losses, though they'd all hurt--badly--and still did.

Maybe it's just easier to think about losing one person than everyone, Wynn Antilles mused. I never asked the Minders why, never saw them at all--and they were too busy helping survivors who seemed more traumatized, or didn't have friends able to help them through it. My wingman, Guay Tel, and the rest of the squadron were all I needed. My CO kept me busy with duties, & told the Minders I was fine, Guay made sure he or another pilot was there when I wasn't so fine.
Wynn recalled the last time she'd seen her father, on his beloved Tantive IV. Cinowyn Antilles was only 17, and newly sworn to the Alliance in the person of her kinsman Viceroy Bail Organa. Capt. Antilles wore the newer, beige uniform, less formal-looking. She was in the green dress she'd worn several times on Eden, supposed to be going for an off-world semester, on a world near one of the planets Princess Leia was visiting officially. But she would end up somewhere else. Over a private meal in the Captain's stateroom father and daughter had said their good-byes. And Raymus had an offer. "You could serve the Alliance here. The Viceroy has given me a commission for you as a junior officer on the Tantive. If you want it, by next watch you'll have uniform and quarters and be assigned to Astrogation. You seemed eager enough to fly my ship when you were 8," he grinned, sharing with this younger Wynn the memory frozen in a holo. But Wynn was too eager now to fly a fighter--and Capt. Antilles, like any good father, had let her go to take her own path, telling her he loved her, was proud of her, knew she'd make him & her mother even prouder. Had we known we'd never see each other again, would we have said more, hugged harder?

He'd also had one more thing for her--a datapad with textdocs on the purchase, transport, and ownership transfers of a certain small in-system transport, a custom sport-skiff named Star Dancer. Just the kind of vessel weathy, doting parents often purchased for teenage offspring. Star Dancer had been the last present Lady Cinowyn's parents, Captain Raymus and Lady RiSanne Antilles had given her, an early 18th birthday gift. The marketing suggested they not only looked like racing-skiffs Vooko had flown, but handled like them. Having already piloted several friends' sport-skiffs, Wynn, even at 17, doubted that. If racing-skiffs handled & accellerated like her pals' toys, then they could be beaten by the remote-control models she collected. But Star Dancer wasn't at all like the other "sporties."
It wasn't even a sportie--it was a prototype modified T-65 that Incom had opted not to put into production. At that point in the Rebellion, the High Command was focusing on just getting more of the basic snubs built and pilots trained. But arrangements had been made, through intermediaries, to buy this prototype and get it flight-ready. The Alliance hadn't objected--after all, they not only got the prototype for free, but it freed up a second snub, that Wynn would otherwise have been assigned. Alderaanian courtiers wouldn't be buying a fighter, hence, the designation as a sport-skiff. Wynn, to the amusement of the other Shooting Stars, had named the snub with the angled wings for the fictional ship on the docs. Wynn smiled through more tears at the schematics patient Razzle--another gift--was projecting of those wings, which had been altered recently from the original prototype specs.

Only a couple short months later, she was called to her CO's office at Yavin Base. Wynn had been out-of-sorts for several days, long enough for it to affect her scores badly. Guay had suggested that the usually tolerant Cory Redsun had "gotten his fill of your abyssmal scores and worse moods & is gonna do a major attitude adjustment." But a dressing down was preferrable to what he told her. "I'm sorry...Tantive IV was lost with all hands...tragic accident, according to the Imperial Navy...Alliance Intel has no reason to doubt that your father & the others are dead...don't believe for a nanosec that it was accidental...Viceroy Organa sends his..."
Wynn didn't have a change to gasp "No!" before another squadron CO had barged into Cory's office, yelling that Alderaan had been destroyed. The next days were a blur of grief and frantic action. Being woken from a screaming nightmares by Guay or another squadronmate...preparing fighters and gear for a possible evac...her cousin Leia's unexpected return...sobbing angrily because the Stars was considered a trainee squadron & thus not good enough to be involved in any part of the desperation attack on the Death Star...standing in ranks watching the honors done to the Heroes of Yavin...the very short talk with her cousin before Yavin was abandoned, after someone--Redsun or Dodonna, perhaps--had told the Princess she was there. Soon after Yavin, Wynn had repainted both helmet and snub in colors and designs that strongly suggested those used for Aldaraan service at the end of the Republic and the beginning of the accursed New Order. Tomorrow Razzle would oversee, as he had then, a restored Star Dancer being painted the same.

Even though it was four years ago, the loss of her dad and then the rest of her family & even their homeworld still hurt. Vooko can't know how truly he spoke when he told me it wasn't a long time--and I hope he never understands exactly. I've got to tell him and Kelvin, that if they ever need help getting word to their Family, they'll have mine. Or if they need help with anything more.

*********
24 hours Later...
Wynn surveyed her newly-restored snubfighter with satisfaction. Today, the sadness she'd felt the night before was gone. It was replaced by gratitude that she'd had such wonderful parents and the sure knowledge that they were proud of her, wherever that Final Jump had taken them. That was the usual pattern.

Now however, the "repair crew" is interrupted, as a junior tech walks up to the group. "Lieutenant Antilles?", the young girl asks. Upon being recognized, she continues, "Major Tumb would like you to report to briefing room 5A at 1730 this evening."

Wynn nodded, "Yes, we will be there." As the girl leaves, Wynn tells her companions, "Sounds like the Alliance might be putting us to work again. Guess I should buy that round of drinks later tonight, rather than tomorrow? I'm sure Kel can find what's left that's good to drink. I'll provide the purse to get it--but don't expect much of a Finder's Fee beyond your share, Kelvin," she smiled. "Well, let's finish this up in the next hour or two so we have some downtime before the briefing. Vooko, does Neckbreaker need any more tweaking or is she good to go?" After all the work they'd done yesterday & earlier today, Star Dancer was ready as soon as the paint dried. "If it is another mission,Vook, I'm going to insist on enough time to take a shakedown flight or 2 in our snubbies." She points out the messenger, now leaving Maiden. "See how she keeps looking back at that old Phoenix? Bet you credits to Chandrillan crullers, she's wishing that one guy would've noticed her." After a chuckle, Wynn told her impromptu "flight," "Kel, Vook--you'll be joining me at the briefing, of course."
****
After another couple hours of touch-up, diagnostics, and tweaking on her starfighter, Wynn takes off to clean up for the meeting. Just before 1730, she arrives outside 5A to meet her friends. Wynn is wearing a neat uniform with her X-pilot wings, rank pips and decorations. The almost shoulder-length copper-blonde hair is in a neat knot at the nape of her neck. Her datapad and stylus are in a pocket.

__________________
Duty.
Honor.
Good Looks.
Motto, Rouge Squadron, Rebel Legion

Last edited by Ris on 29 November 2005 at 01:50 PM

Double-post

[ post #6 ]

__________________
Duty.
Honor.
Good Looks.
Motto, Rouge Squadron, Rebel Legion

Last edited by Ris on 20 November 2005 at 10:59 PM

[ post #7 ]

In from the landing bay came a young woman wearing a tech's coverall. When she had everyone's attention she announced, "The Major requests the presence of the crew and passengers of the Moonlight Maiden in briefing room 5A at 1730 this evening. Any questions?"

Remy quietly smirked. About time they have something for us to do. If all the downtime continued, I might just have to invent some trouble. It had been fine the first few days lounging on the Sullustan's ship and acing his fellow passengers at sabacc, but it one could only play Senate Rules before getting tired of it.

Kell, for what seemed to be like the thousanth time, had to stifle a facial tic. "Ah, no rest for the wicked, eh?", he laments with a sardonic half-smile, tossing a look at Remy to catch his reaction to their titular pilot.

"The talented either," Remy replied. The self-proclaimed Captain Koss was a bit of grand-stander, but he didn't mind. It was the glory hounds and spotlight hoggers that made his line of work that much easier. After all, if the right hand is making elaborate gestures, it's that much harder to notice the left hand lifting your credit pouch. "I'll catch you lot at the briefing," he said, waving them off as they headed back into the ship. He thought that he heard Kell mutter some invictive as Koss spouted off yet again.

Been a while since I stretched my legs in a place like this, Remy thought darkly. Of course, the last time he'd been kept in any one place, it wasn't as an invited guest. Just another chapter in a very interesting life. He checked his wrist-chrono, and saw that he had another couple of hours to kill before the briefing. I wonder if there's any new marks? he mused to himself, but quicky thought better of it. He doubted such things would do little to endear him to the brass.

He looked up as a tech passed by, noticing that he'd wandered over towards one of the fighter bays. The snub fighter was an X-wing, and from the looks of it the pilot had put a lot of personal touches on it. He raked through his memories of the local gossip, trying to piece who the ship belonged to, but came up blank. Didn't really matter who was flying it. Unwanted memories of the last time he'd strapped into a snub-fighter came drifting back.

"Not in this lifetime," the scoundrel groused to himself. It was a good sign that after those thoughts his first instinct wasn't to grab the closest thing this place had to good, strong drink. That was a lifetime ago, and another chapter of his life he'd long since closed the book on.

He spotted a rather cute little package working on the snubbie. She must have been pretty involved in her work, he noted, as she remained oblivious to his presence. The hair was an interesting shade, he thought. Not to many women could pull of a red and gold mix, but for her it worked.

Best to leave her to her work, Remy concluded. Don't want to get her in trouble with whatever hot-shot jockey that ship belongs to.

After walking everywhere in the base he had clearance to get to, Remy finally wound his way towards Briefing Room 5A a few minutes before the briefing was to start. He's mildly surprised to see the cute redhead now wearing an fighter pilot's get up, looking like she's ready for a field review. If he were the self-conscious type, Remy might be concerned about the scruff of his clothes compared to the neat-and-trim attire of the fighter jock. But being self-conscious was something a man in his line of work quickly learned to get over.

Deciding he didn't quite want to be part of the crowd, Remy stood off to the side, leaning against the wall, waiting for the briefing room doors to open. For the start of a grand adventure, I guess this beats all of us meeting in a bar, he mused, a wry grin coming to his features.

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[ post #8 ]

Wynn looked over the man who leaned so casually near the doors. Before she left the repair bay, the tech who'd notified them of the briefing had told her the guy had been watching her work. "If you hadn't been so busy, you could've gotten yourself a hot date, easy," the woman had told her with a sigh of envy. Wynn had only smiled, adding "Just my luck," before heading on her way.
He was good looking, with the long blond hair & hieght, but not quite to Wynn's taste. The high cheekbines some of the other women raved about, just made his face look a little too gaunt or ascetic. Wynn wasn't concerned about looks, not when it appeared he would be involved in whatever she was doing next. He didn't look untrustworthy, just standoff-ish. She'd just have to reserve judgment, but nothing would be gained by refusing to notice him. "Hello, I'm Cinowyn Antilles. I haven't had a chance to meet you before now..." Wynn waited for him to supply a name.

__________________
Duty.
Honor.
Good Looks.
Motto, Rouge Squadron, Rebel Legion

WARNING! Uberlength Post

[ post #9 ]

As they shoved something cold against his body for the Nth time, he fought to keep his temper, but couldn't refrain from comment.

"Have you ever thought about heating those up to something approaching a comfortable temp before prodding someone with them?" The inexperienced MedTech, one of the small herd we was Victim du Jour of during this improvised Training Day lied

"They are." "Get em from SoroSuub?" With a disgusted look on his face "No, good ones from Fabritech."

Bored and annoyed almost to his limit Maybe they're testing that too...

WARNING: The following text contains spoilers concerning "in Sullustese." Then aren't I a little tall for a Sullustan?

The Medtech shrugs as if Vooko was swearing at him, but one or two giggles in the crowd told him that someone got the joke.

Then he heard Wynn calling "Hey, the Alliance doesn't condone torture--especially of it's own heroes!...So what's the diagnosis, Vooko? Terminal boredom, or acute desperation?" "Umm...yes?" was his grumpy reply.

The Bothan Doctor greeted Wynn with "Ah, come over here my dear." and immediately launched into a dissertation on Cranial Trauma as the medtechs crowded around them. Totally forgotten, Vooko used the distraction to quietly gather up his boots and pad out despite the cold decking biting into his bare feet.


Once in the Turbolift he pulled out two legths of fine, super-comfortable cloth, wrapped his feet, and shoved em into his boots. Some crewer in the lift commented "Shame to waste good cloth like that." Arriving at his destination, Vooko tossed over his shoulder "Cheaper than your socks."

He found his way to Observation tower 24-B without much difficulty. Kelvin had told him about it, and his directions were normally quite precise. Savoring the peaceful solitude along with the view Vooko lost track of time until his stomach reminded him. Later he checked Logs and Dispatches (what passed for local news out here at Almost Forgotten). After a quick search trough the Regulations Database, he packaged together a request and sent it through the base messaging system to the one Droid he could trust to get it just right, Razzle.


As he and Kelvin were relaxing just before bed, the door chime sounded. Answering it, Vooko takes a duraplast-backed sheet of Flimsiplast and a woven strip of white cloth with red embroidered edges, and small metal bar from the purple-and-white Astromech with the unusual gold-plated dome. "Thank you." Razzle tootled a cheery "Be-Doop.", turned and trundled down the hall to do whatever it was ever-helpful little droids did with their time off. Hope Wynn doesn't mind.

Kelvin, practically hovering over his shoulder, "What's this?" Shown the stylized, yet easily recognizable cutout-template of an ISD, Kelvin's reaction is "Isn't that a bit small?" "It's roughly the same size as the rest of the markers. One to-scale would be bigger than the hull, as well as an irresistable invitation for every hotshot bubble-boy and his greedy wingman to come blow me up." "Mmmm. And the other stuff?" "High Command figures if you're stupid or insane enough to take on a Heavy Cap, and have a big enough Barrel O'Luck to survive it, they want you tagged for Observation."

Kelvin, always a merry soul, laughed heartily. "Another party then? We're gonna have some great stories to tell when we get home." "Gotta survive long enough to tell them. After last time, I'm bout partied out for a while." Sobered a bit by the implied lengthy and hazardous journey home for them, Kelvin sits on his bed "Better turn in then, no telling if we'll need it tomorrow."

After the lights are out, "Vooko?" "Yeah?" "I like your boss, she's feisty." Vooko almost reflexively flung one of his pillows off into the darkess, and judging from the muffled laughter from across the room connected solidly.


The next day he started doing final inspections and fittings on his snub early on. Giving the hull a rub with his hand We've been through some really rough runs in a short amount of time, but she's always come through when I needed it. Wouldn't do to have something going wonky now I've the time to take care of her.

The forward sweep of the S-Foils on Wynn's X(W?)-Wing seemed strangely familiar, the full thought just elusively out of reach in the back of his mind...

Touching up the template-sprayed ImpStar Silhouette that was the last job on a long list for his Neckbreaker, he heard behind him an irate shout ""How dare you abandon me to those Lumrunners!! You owe me big time--but i guess I'll let you off since you're now a Major Hero--hey, there's the proof even! When did you get that bar?" "I had to break when you gave me cover or I'd probly still be their guest. Checked dispatches last night. Special citation for dragging down a Heavy Capship, and an ImpStar is definitely at the easy end of that scale. You might wanna check the regs, might be something for the Assist."

"Ironic choice of color though." "Oh?" "Oyah. When the Avenger grabbed me, I was scared bout this white." Wynn couldn't keep from giggling. Glancing over at the small crowd of techs apparently stumped by something in her ship, "C'mon, I'll help ya with yours. We should get over there before you find you're the dubious owner of an Ithorian Massage Command Chair with built-in Caf Distiller."


Seeing the underside of one foil had been removed showing some odd bars spaced at what appeared to be random intervals along its length, "What's this?" One of the techs answered "They're a liquid metal stabilized with piezoelectric crystals" Vooko replied "Must be combo dampers. See here? The brackets aren't part of the electrical connection, as if they're only for shipping purposes and need to be removed before flight." Kelvin, throughly confused, asked "Could you translate the Gibberish into Basic?"

"Sure. Basically a super-performance spring that'll give off small electrical signals, or vibrate predictably when a stronger one is applied. Those floofy tufts you put on your bow act as a passive damper, the tendrils vibrating instead of the string once you've fired. These are built to not only provide data on passive performance to a computer, but be stimulated by one to offset the vibrations the forward-sweep is well known for."

The Baragwin spoke up "But they've been installed in the wrong order and we can't figure it out. Yesterday we simmed atmos with a pressor field and tore one of the struts out on opening." "Sounds oddly familiar." His gaze unfocus as he attempts to wrangle the annoyingly errant thought.

Tapping idly on the foil, Vooko accidentally found one spot that was oddly resonant, sounding like a small drum rather than slab of armor plate. The odd familiarity of the design and sound spurred somthing in the back of his mind, his eyes unfocused as he chased the errant thought. Tok...tok...tok...tok...

Without warning he softly sang out Bok! Bazzz-Frit-Nurrrg-Oohsss-Tammm-T'k. Dreek-Saam-Voot-Chay-Rool-Zneet. To Wynn's ear it sounded quite melodic, but she couldn't recognize the language. "What is that? It's lovely, but I don't understand a word. The metre is vaguely familiar. Is it Ode to a Snub? This set Vooko to grinning very mischevously "It's Rodian Opera."

Frowning, the Baragwin tech, whose delicate touch defied their large, thick build looked across the foil at Vooko and said "That has to be the worst rendition of Vorg Rasch Noolakt I've ever heard." With suppressed laughter in his voice he replied to the Baragwin, "Probly, but I'm pretty sure I have the layout." Lining up the rods following the sequence in his mind, "Lets drop em in and find out."

Wynn, taken aback, "But it sounded good." "Not if you're Rodian. Most of them think Chesvyn's Distant Dreamer is appalling." Recalling fondly the song her father used to croon her to sleep with when she was little, Wynn blurted out a shocked "That's impossible!" The Baragwin took over, "The tempo of the lyrics changes significantly when translated. It and the melody go together like Mulak'kit and Novruum." Familiar with both the crunchy, spicy Twi'Lek fungus and the slippery, cloyingly sweet Sullustan dessert, her stomach roiled in disgust.

When she got control of her gut, Wynn glared at her wing & the Baragwin, grumbling, "Everyone's a music professor!" Abruptly, she snatched the static-fluxmeter and turned back to the snub, before there was any chance of them seeing the sudden tears. Wynn stabbed the probe viciously into the energy field, as if the shield were at fault. "Razzle, re-do the diagnostics--there's still too much fluctuation!"


Another tech spoke up, "I see how the numbers stamped on the bottoms relate to the words, but aren't they mixed up?" The Baragwin saved Vooko from a long explanation. "Not if you recall that stanza is sung in counterpoint, the second line only a half-step away from the first."

Once the rods were all in place & the ends left free to vibrate, Vooko checked the panel he'd tapped earlier. This time there was only a solid thud. "Sounds good to test." After the test came out beautifully smooth, and they were advised of the briefing, one of the techs asked "How did you know which order they go in?" "Took a while for things to connect, but it's a simple mnemonic. Provided you know the Engineer who designed the system and his favorite opera."

Kelvin chimed in "So that's why Ruuvi was always humming that annoying thing." Looking over to Wynn "You really should have gotten the optional Caf Distiller. Ruuvi could take a greasy-digit distiller and have a gourmand weeping for more."


On his way to the briefing, Vooko checks his uniform to make sure everything's in place, and the new gold bar hanging off the bottom of his Pilot's Wings - delicately & precisely engraved with ISD Avenger and the appropriate Republic Calendar date gleams brightly. Grinning slightly he reminds himself Don't get cocky, somewhere out there is someone whose Big Game Bar reads Death Star.

__________________
First Law of GMing: Semper Gumby

Show me someone who has never said "It's good to be Evil", I'll show you someone who's never GM'd.

Last edited by Vanger Chevane on 2 December 2005 at 02:27 AM

Wynn, while working on her snub the dya of the briefing

[ post #10 ]

"...Special citation for dragging down a Heavy Capship, and an ImpStar is definitely at the easy end of that scale."

I'd guess that was what Razz was up to last night while I was, ah, looking over some stuff?" Wynn gave him a bright smile to show that she wasn't annoyed. In fact, she was pleased that Vooko thought so much of her droid pal.

"You might wanna check the regs, might be something for the Assist."

So he still thinks that's all I care about? Well, I suppose it's understandable after that stupid remark before the party. Yeah, I'm bugged I was transferred out of the Stars for no good reason, when I was where I wanted & had good chances, but not an excuse for acting that way. The Aldaraan pilot shrugged. "If there is something in the regs that applies, the datapad-jocks will find it soon enough," she told him. "I can wait." I don't think I did much assisting, anyways. And Wynn really didn't care much about the citations she'd already received. She'd got them fighting for what was right and just, for a cause her parents and her sovereign--her homeworld!--had died for. Nothing like holding your dad's posthumous citation & hoping you can keep from bawling over it--at least 'til you're somewhere you can't be heard--to teach you perspective about medals.

"We should get over there before you find you're the dubious owner of an Ithorian Massage Command Chair with built-in Caf Distiller."

The joke eases the momentary melancholy. "Wouldn't it be the chair that was dubious? I'd love to have my seat rigged for massage, though--be great on long hyperspace jumps. Can you help me install one?"

"Took a while for things to connect, but it's a simple mnemonic. Provided you know the Engineer who designed the system and his favorite opera." Kelvin chimed in "So that's why Ruuvi was always humming that annoying thing."

Wynn had been ignoring the continued talk about the opera, but the comments about an engineer named Ruuvi got her attention. "What do you 2 know about this Ruuvi?" she asked. "There was no Ruuvi on the Incom design team for this prototype--and I don't need Razzle to bring up the specs to know that Star Dancer's S-foils have been altered since the last time I flew her." Her tone holds only curiosity, and the way one hand caresses the nearest foil shows she's pleased with the foils' new configuration.
"Ruuvi is a Filght Engineer, Caf Aficiando Supreme, Mentor, and Chief Designer of a confirmed capship-killing snub," Vooko informs her with a big grin.
"And above all, someone very dear to you--both of you," she says warmly.

__________________
Duty.
Honor.
Good Looks.
Motto, Rouge Squadron, Rebel Legion

[ post #11 ]

Kelvin stirred somewheres shy of noon. His head was still in a haze... Ironically, a tune was stuck in his head, one not soo different than what was last night -

Could've been the whiskey
Might've been the gin
Could've been the three or four six-packs,
I don't know, but look at the mess I'm in
My head is like a football
I think I'm going to die
Tell me, me oh, me oh my
Wasn't that a party

He was still a bit buzzed from the night before. He probably layed there for half an hour, waking up. Yup, that was a party! Kelvin grinned to himself as he groggily dragged himself out of bed, pulled on a few cloths and headed out the suit. Kelvin first made his way down to the doc Goldie's office to get something for the 'buzz' that still lingered. Few minutes later, Kelvin's stomach rumble was excuse enough to releive him to the mess hall. Glancing at the wall chronometer, it was quarter-to. Maybe with luck he'd Catch Tia there yet and join her for the remainder of the lunch hour.

Well, he caught Tia, as she was dumping her tray contents by the door. "Hi!" Kelvin beamed

"Hi." Tia replied, half smile, placing her tray on the stack.

"Hey, still got fifteen minutes before the dinner menu closes. Care to join me?"

"I Just ate Kel"

Shrugging, "Yeah, but still got room for another cup of caf at least? half cup? quarter even?" Kelvin tried hopefully.

"Nope." Tia shook her head

"So, hour's not up yet. Still can yammer or something for a few, right?"

"Yammer or... something?" Tia asked puzzled, then she blushed, then made one of those girly gasp sounds.

"Well, I suppose we could do that too, now that you mention it..." Eyebrow raised, Kelvin grinned mischeviously

"Kel!" Tia exclaimed wide-eyed, clearly embarased for jumping to the wrong assumption, then covered her mouth from the outburst, looking around quickly. Few people walked by, merely a glance of curious interest, nothing more.

Sheepishly, "You suggested it, not- Ow!" Kell yelped from a playful jab to the arm, only managing to draw just slightly more attention from a few seated onlookers.

Tia grabbed and pulled Kel out from the doorway, to a blind spot behind the door frame, least out of view from the curious onlookers, "Wha- hey, now who's the friskey one h- Ow!" Kel finished as she pushed his backside to the wall. Mabye a tad more force than intented.

Tia's eyebrows slightly furrowed, "Kell!" she lightly scolded in hushed tones.

Raising a hand to the backside of his head, to rub it, "So, what do you wanna do for the next - thirteen minutes give or take? You do wanna spend a few minutes right?"

Apologetic - slightly, "Sorry-" with a wince and sorry look, placing a hand on his chest, sighing "I gotta go Kel. I've got an afternoon's worth of work ahead of me, wanted to get to an early start. Another time Kel?"

Half smiling in defeat, "Yeah... I Suppose. Hey, I was gonna go up to the tower again. When your shift's done, wanna join me then? Call me before your done, I'll grab some food and y'know, go back up there. It'd be like dinner under the stars. No bonfire but under the stars litterally!"

"I'd like that...." A pained expression on her face "I'll try. Yo know how some tech shifts can be right?" she shrugged fleetingly

"Yeah..." Kelvin sighed, he kinda knew, from past his moms' and uncles bent or crawled under engine hoods.

Tia reached up and gave a tiny peck on his cheek then hurried off to her shift. Kelvin was left standing backside against the wall. He stood there for the next few moments, then decided to hit the cafeteria, grab something to eat or what was left of it.

Sitting under the transparisteel dome in tower 24-B, sipping a hot de-caff (all that was left, a herbal tea blend, quite flavorfull, and aromatic actually), a half eaten lunch, sat unwrapped beside him. Kel simply starred out at the stars. Black expanse and white specs all around him, as he sat within this bubble. It was completely peacefull, Kel had to appreciate that. Just him and his thoughts all to himself as he idley snacked on his 'take-out' meal. Only thing was missing was the freshness of outdoor air, preferably a slight breeze too. And Tia. He imagined her fragrence from the night before as they had sat next to each other at the table, the occasional lean-into him as they shared the spirits with tales from days of yore.

Yawning, he pulled out a datapad and blank card that he nabbed from a supply locker on the way over to the tower. He also pulled out his comlink, making sure it was on and set it aside. Removing his vest, he rolled it up to a makeshift pillow and stretched out flat. The view was even more entrancing, as there was just something about laying flat and gazing upwards. The stars drifted ever so slowly, even more surreal than on a planet with a clear night sky. Datapad back in hand, he settled in for something he had been putting off for quite a long time now. Now's good as time as ever. Flicking the switch, the datapad came to life. For the better part of several hours countless tries, starts and rewrites until the following was finally ecked out:

Dear Mom & Mom, Hi, its Kelvin. Where to begin? Well, sorry for starters I suppose. Please, I hope you both weren't mad at Crix for running of to the Rebelion. It was my choice, something I felt I had to do. To go try and make a difference. Vookoo was leaving anyways - to save the Neckbreaker. The trip to Nar Shadda was just fine too. On the way back home, Crix was nice enough to drop me off at a shelter that was a Rebel recruiting place. Spent a while there and then we were shuttled off to this wilderness planet that I still can't name due to security and open holonet messaging. Lovely planet, large forests just like outback at Uncle Hlarret's farm. Weren't it not one large training ground, I could've swore it was more like camp. Had a great time there, reminded me of home. We weren't allowed to make any outgoing calls or messages, for everyone's safety should the Imps locate us. Our supplies were delivered by transport once a month too, guys and freighters much like Crix's operation. I made a friend there too, Alaira. I think you would have liked her, kinda mousy, shy and into gadgets. Interestingly, it was Crix who came to pick us all up and drop us off at various Rebelion sites. She wasn't in the same roster as I. Neither of us spoke it, but I think we both knew it'd be a longshot at best we'd ever meet up again. I wonder how she's faring today? Well, that was quite a few months ago. Next destination was at a nice little paradise spot, a facility and hanger. And guess what? Vookoo was there! Yeah, he in the Neckbreaker and a friend of his escorted our frieghter back to the planet. The ride kinda sucked though, the pilot and co-pilot a pair of Farghul twins were.. well, wonder where the Rebelion even got these two, much less tolerate them. There was a Gungan with me from Cor-sec as well. No mom, I wasn't in trouble, he was being transfered to the same place I was. Those Gungans, they talk awkward, and are an interesting species though. It was a nice awkward little re-union, Vookoo's flight officer is cute too, the one that flew with him as our escort. There was this crew cheif there too, her name's Tia. She's really great, yeah, didn't get off to the best start but after that it was good, maybe even something alot more. Few days later, the base was under attack, somehow the Imperials found out. Must've been those two Farghuls, something just didn't seem right about them, Y'know? Anyways, We all made it out fine, just barely. Few bumps and bruises, and an obstacle run through the base corridors as the place was burning and falling down all around us. Just like in one of those Action Holos. Y'know? Anyways, I got to fly a Y-wing for the very first time, and boy, it's nothing like a speederbike! It was one thing to get it off the ground and out of the burning hanger, and entirely another thing to fly it! Maybe the Gungan should've flown, though a minute longer and I would have had to go on my own. There wasn't much time to unbuckle and jump to the seat behind. The astromech finally got fed up with me, beleive it or not. And he took over flight for the rest of the way including hyper-jump. Then again, droids never did seem to like me too much, or maybe I just hadn't found the right type yet. And out in space, there was one of those Star Destroyers we've heard about. The news holos weren't kidding, those things are huge! I'll bet it wasn't even doing much for the base to get pummeled like that. And guess what? Vook had this warhead on the Neckbreaker and got to lob a shot at it! Arriving to this new place was ok of a ride, the Gungan was silent for most of it. The Techs sure had a fit when we landed, I didn't think I handled the craft that badly. I think thats the last time i'll try pilot anything like that again. Yeah, we all arrived safely. Vook got a bit banged up, getting away from that Star Destroyer, but guess what? Vook got awarded a Kill-shot for it! Vook's doing alright, the medstaff here is not bad. No, it's nothin serious, I think we were in far worse from goofing off back on the farm. Oh yeah, and last night there was a stationwide party down in one of the hangers. Only thing missing was you both, the team and a race trophy. Well, I guess this is about it for now. Will try write more if I can. Never know when we'll be sent off somewheres on the next mission, where it'll be, what it'll be, or how long. Don't worry, I'll be fine. I've been doing alright sofar, survived that unexpected attack with little more than a scratch. Hmm, it's early evening already. I'm in this neat observation tower, got it all to myself right now. Waiting for Tia's comm, supposed to grab some supper and come back here to eat it. Hope her shift is done soon. Kelvin.

The letter finished, Kelvin set the datapad down, and resumed starring up at the stars, like many a night back at training camp. And as many a nights, he eventually nodded off soundlessly. Vookoo dropped by, waking Kelvin from his nap, and they both shared some quiet time, just the two of them. Was just like old times, durring the racing off-seasons back at the farm, or equally aboard the team transport, both in their bunks, glancing out the viewport.

Later that evening, both grabbed some supper and retired to their shared quarters. Wynn's astromech delivered Vook a little package with the ISD template cuts. A bit of banter and sugestion of another party and it was time for lights out. Remembering a bit earlier from the personal typed message, Kelvin couldn't help comment about Vook's boss, which in turn a thrown pillow from Vook, which Kelvin laughed and return the favor. Yup, despite everything , little changed from since back when, before the Rebel enlistments.

****
Next day was off to a fresh start. Kelvin helped Vookoo and Wynn in the hanger with their fighter maintenance. Wynn's was just about done, and going over the Neckbreaker with Vookoo was almost a time honored tradition, after all the time they spent getting it built.

"How dare you abandon me to those Lumrunners!! You owe me big time--but i guess I'll let you off since you're now a Major Hero--hey, there's the proof even! When did you get that bar?"

Kelvin piped up to Wynn's - greeting "Hey Wynn, thats 'Flight Officer Hero', thought you knew your ranks?"

Rest of the time was spent on both fighters, until Vookoo started singing that darned Rodian opera, Kelvin could only guess for the nth time just how little of it was actually right. Not that he could even fathom what the meaning was, much less understand Rodese, even though Ruuvi was usually the one who started singing it in the first place.

"And above all, someone very dear to you--both of you," she says warmly.

"Thanks Wynn. Hey Vook, speaking of which," Kelvin pulled out a datacard and waved it at vook,"Forgot to tell ya, wrote a letter to send to our mom, finally got the chance to. Figure you wanna say a little somethin before I send it and we head out again? Y'know how mom gets sometimes, she'll end up getting Crix to track down our whereabouts."


Kelvin followed Vookoo and Wynn to the briefing room, where a few others were also assembled. The ones that just arrived perhaps? One of them was already quick to make aquaintences with Wynn. Considering they were all waiting around, no commanding oficer inroom to brief them yet, Kelvin figured he'd might as well make the best of it, and kill some time. Piping up, cheerfully, "Hi! Didn't see you at the party the other night. Just arrived didn't you? Guess we're all here for a reason. Might as well get aquainted right? My name's Kelvin, this here's my brother Vookoo. And yours would be?"

__________________
├ 3D Art @: Star Wars Artist Guild Member Gallery ● DeviantArt Gallery (New!)
├ Websites: Co-GM of: Q:TU Rebel #2 (Status: On Hold) ● "The Camp" (Status: Offline)
├ RPG Info: Signature #46: My Repertoire of RPGs (Updated: 09/09/2006)
└ Please, just refer to me as TJR OR Terras. thx! (08/16/08)

Last edited by Terras Jadeonar & Raven on 4 December 2005 at 07:59 AM

Captain Koss

[ post #12 ]

Originally posted by Terras Jadeonar & Raven Kelvin followed Vookoo and Wynn to the briefing room, where a few others were also assembled... Piping up, cheerfully, "Hi! Didn't see you at the party the other night. Just arrived didn't you? Guess we're all here for a reason. Might as well get aquainted right? My name's Kelvin, this here's my brother Vookoo. And yours would be?"

The Sullustan steps in to the briefing room, and hearing Kelvin's comment, steps in front of whoever the greeting was directed to.

KOSS: I am called "Captain Koss." This is useful, as it is my name! I shall assume for the time being that "Kelvin" and "Vooko" are likewise accurate designators for yourselves...

__________________
"Half the fun of God's forgiveness is having reasons to ask for it."

joint post: Wynn & Vooko

[ post #13 ]

Under his breath where Wynn can hear it but Koss can't , Vooko tells Blue 7 in Sollustan, "Then drop the drama & get to business." Her wing's raised eyebrow & slitted eyes plainly say to her, "Is he really insane or just way too full of himself?"
Wynn gives one of Those Smiles, the kind Vooko suspects had newbie Shooting Stars pilots quailing, since it bears more than a passing resemblance to a Mom Stare. "I think it would be more courteous to allow the Major that priviledge, my dear Captain."

__________________
Duty.
Honor.
Good Looks.
Motto, Rouge Squadron, Rebel Legion

Re: joint post: Wynn & Vooko

[ post #14 ]

Originally posted by Ris Wynn gives one of Those Smiles, the kind Vooko suspects had newbie Shooting Stars pilots quailing, since it bears more than a passing resemblance to a Mom Stare. "I think it would be more courteous to allow the Major that priviledge, my dear Captain."

The excited Sullustan suddenly becomes very serious and calm, nods gravely and very knowingly at this statement, and responds politely.

KOSS: This is very true. Brief though it may be, a major briefing requires a Major briefer. As you, I await this one's entrance.

__________________
"Half the fun of God's forgiveness is having reasons to ask for it."

Last edited by boccelounge on 7 December 2005 at 01:16 PM

Musings and Formalities

[ post #15 ]

I'll say this for the Captian, he sure talks a good game. Be nice if he can actually back it up when push comes to shove. Remy thought to himself. He'd seen too many blowhards, and right now the self-proclaimed Captain Koss fight nice and snug into that category. In his former line of work, the more people out there that knew about you, the harder it was to get the job done. Then again, if Koss was as wanted by the Empire as he'd claimed, he'd make great bait for any bounty hunters that wandered by.

Remy took stock of the meeting attendees. Cinowyn Antilles he knew, as she'd walked up and introduced herself, though he wasn't feeling very chatty at the moment. Kell he knew from being stuck on Koss' ship. He heard Antilles mutter something, but didn't quite catch it, and given Koss' reaction, it probably wasn't very complimentary. Then there was Kelvin and his brother Vookoo, though Kelvin seemed the more forward of the pair. Again, Remy hadn't felt very chatty, and for once was actually glad Koss had swaggered in.

And I thought the last bunch I worked with was a motley lot, Remy mused silently.They weren't kidding when they said the Rebellion will take anyone. Well, I suppose I might as well get the formalities out of the way.

Stepping over to Cinowyn, Remy offered his hand in greeting, "Sorry if I seemed a mite rude earlier, lieutenant. The name's Remy Marsteen."

__________________
I never listen to the Order 66 podcast

Donovan Morningfire's new SWSE Rule Changes thread (now featuring v2.0)
My Big List of SWSE NPCs v2.0 (courtesy of d20radio)

Last edited by Donovan Morningfire on 5 December 2005 at 10:34 PM

Operation: Dragon Pearl

[ post #16 ]

As the group gathers in the briefing room, several small conversations start. There is a low-ranking soldier near the door keeping an eye or three on things until the briefing could get underway. Though the room is large enough to hold a small platoon of soldiers, at the moment the only occupants are Vooko, Wynn, Kelvin, Remy, Koss, Kell, and the Gran Rebel near the door. The room itself is a utilitarian affair: the bare metal walls and metal grate floor didn’t do much for the terraced rows of benches that filled several shallow steps from the door down to the front of the room, where a holoprojector and a vidscreen sat, inactive. Despite the spartan surroundings, however, it’s apparent someone took some time to remodel the room at some point, as the hum of machinery that filled nearly every part of the old space station was noticeably absent here. The background noises that had drifted to everybody’s subconscious now became conspicuously quiet. Anyone who goes to the middle of the room and looks down through the grating will see the ventilation fans, and, far below them, in the air ducts, a crimson haze: the air passages were guarded by particle-shielding.

At precisely 1730, the Gran attendant barks, “Officer on deck!” and jumps to attention. As this happens, Major Tumb enters the room, accompanied by a few others. The first is a tall, striking female in a gray Intelligence uniform. She wears he dark red hair pulled into a severely tight bun and her ice blue eyes are so pale that it almost looks as if she has no iris at all, giving her an attractive, if intimidating look. She gives the room’s inhabitants a quick once-over, and looks as if she’s less-than-impressed. The second is an average-looking man. That in itself makes the man stand out in a way. He is of average height and build, with short light brown hair, brown eyes and slightly tanned skin. He has a short, well-kept beard and mustache and has a gaze that seems as if he is learning things about you that even you don’t know. Though unmistakably human, he could pass for a native on a thousand different worlds.

With the trio coming to a halt at the holoprojector, Major Tumb says, “Have a seat everyone, up front here, where everyone can see.”

As the group files into place, the Sullustan CO addresses the Gran, “Thank you, Deehk. You’re on ship’s leave for the next twenty-four, have a good time.”

Slightly puzzled at being dismissed form this sort of job so early, the Gran tilts his head for a moment in uncertainty. Still, he knows better than to look a gift bantha in the mouth, and smartly nods, says, “Thank you, sir.”, and exits.

As soon as he leaves, Tumb touches a control on his belt and two more durasteel panels slide into place over the door and the lights flicker a moment. Waiting a full ten seconds in silence, the Sullustan eventually continues, wasting no time on pleasantries. The amiable, easygoing man of last week’s party is gone, replaced by a no-nonsense, to the point officer.

“You are all now under a state of level five security clearance. Any and all information you receive during this briefing is to be maintained as ‘eyes-only’ and/or ‘ears-only’ as the case may be. In addition, any and all information discussed in this briefing is considered to be classified, and as such, maintained at a level five priority code of clearance. This means that is not to be discussed, under any circumstances, with anyone, except level six and higher Alliance officials and those officials with level five clearance as well as priority documentation pertaining to this assignment.”

The major pauses for a moment to let that sink in. The group wasn’t being offered an assignment, they were being assigned. Also, level five clearance meant Alliance High Command wasn’t fooling around. This wasn’t a test or drill, training was over, and it was time to deliver. Tumb continues,

“Allow me to introduce my associates, the lady is Lieutenant Miykus Dar’tann from Department seven of Alliance Intelligence, and this is Colonel Crix Madine, Alliance Special Forces. I’ll now be turning this briefing over to them. Remember, eyes and ears only, welcome to Operation: Dragon Pearl.”

Tumb takes a few steps back, giving the floor to the man, Madine. When he speaks, Madine has a soft, yet determined voice. As he begins to speak, the holoprojector comes to life, depicting a planet, rotating slowly on its axis, with a key location in the southern hemisphere marked with a pulsating red light, also, the lights in the room dim at a touch from Tumb’s belt unit, bringing out the colors of the holoprojector.

“Horxon-Glyn is the site of a large Imperial prison complex to which we’ve traced many of the Imperials’ high-risk Alliance captives. While political prisoners are usually spread out in remote locations, a large percentage of military prisoners and Special Forces have been incarcerated within the cell-block tiers of the Horxon-Glyn prison complex.

“Though we would love to make a jailbreak there, it is simply beyond our abilities…for now. Though an assault, or even a commando raid, of the prisons are a long way off, we have nevertheless started to make preparations for just such a mission, by sending scouts, spies, and surveyors to the planet. In addition, though escapes are uncommon, they do happen, and the rebel cells on a half dozen planets near Horxon have established a covert pipeline for getting the rebels who DO manage to escape, and seeing them safely to places far enough rimward the ensure a relative degree of safety.”

At this, the gray planet shrinks in relation to the holoprojector, putting itself in the center of several other marble-sized holo-planets. Then, several paths, highlighted in bright colors, link up a few series of worlds, causing Horxon itself to resemble the body of some exotic, gaudy spider.

“One such pipeline runs from Horxon, through Ord Mantell, Chalmyron, and finally Darlyn Boda, before sending the escapees on to their own unit. This is also our primary method of exfiltration and recovery for the agent we send in to gather intelligence on the Horxon complex. Recently, however, one of our agents was forced to go to ground on Chalmyron, the most sparsely populated of the planets on the pipeline.

While Madine says this last, one of the “legs” is focused on, increasing in size to fill the entire holo-field. After a moment the third of the four planets swells to fill the entire holoprojector’s projection field. Chalmyron is a green and tan world with large landmasses, low mountains, and a pair of small, but deep oceans. It was a world of cliffs and canyons, with only a few small population centers scattered across the coastal lowlands.

“To everyone except Department seven, and the highest ranked members of High Command, agent Enquinn Kryke, codename Mindsight, is thought MIA on a sabotage mission to Bilbringi. However, Mindsight sent one last transmission before his burn on Chalmyron. Apparently, he’d made contact with a ranking member of the Horxon command staff named Trilth and convinced the Imperial to defect. When he’d made his exfil, the imperial in question would volunteer to track him down, and our agent would lead him to a rebel cell, finalizing his defection. However, things went wrong.

“Apparently, Imperial Intelligence was on Mindsight’s trail, and when he left Horxon, not only did our defector get sent out, but also quite a sizable chunk of Imperial Army. They’ve established a temporary garrison near the capital city of Drutan and have hundreds of small rapid deployment stations scattered across the globe. One of the reasons that the planet was chosen to be part of the pipeline was its low population and development. Another was its inaccessibility. During the Clone Wars, Chalmyron served as a staging area for Republic forces. Later on in the war, it became a supply dump. At some point, the Seperatist forces staged a large-scale offensive in the area, and the Republic was forced to abandon its supplies, so they mined the asteroid belt around the planet before they left.”

The display zooms out to reveal the planet’s complex system of rings, through which was scattered scores of tiny, red pinpricks of light: mines. As if a ring system that nearly covered the entire planet wasn’t bad enough, there were things that went boom. Still, Madine continued,

“Your mission will be to land on Chalmyron undetected, make contact with Trilth and evacuate him form the planet. If you happen to make contact with Mindsight in the process, you are to bring him as well, however, this is a secondary objective, Trilth is your main concern. Now allow me to turn this briefing over to Lieutenant Dar’tann.”

Madine steps back beside Major Tumb as Miykus Dar’tann steps forward and the lights come back up as Chalmyron dissolves as the holoprojector shuts down. Miykus eyes the group with that same disapproving gaze from before. It’s the type of look a discerning customer would give a nerf, if she were thinking about buying it and having it slaughtered, and it doesn’t make anyone feel at ease. After a long moment of silence, the severe-looking woman speaks, her voice a total turnaround from her demeanor and appearance, seems almost warm and inviting, with a slight accent that reveals that she’d spent time on Brentaal. Now that you hear the voice, she does have a look of nobility about her…

“This mission is very important to High Command, so you’ll be provided with anything you need, within reason, of course. Because the situation involves a defector, it falls under Intelligence’s field of expertise, thus my superiors are the ones who have masterminded this mission, and through me, they have passed this assignment along to you. In addition to everything Colonel Madine has said, I’d like to add that, should you be unable to see Trilth, codename Gardener, his contract is to be closed. I trust I make myself clear?”

Silence hangs like a wet blanket for a few long seconds before Tumb again speaks,

“Are there any questions?”

__________________
W.W.G.D. - What would Grimace do?

What kind of dust?
Dirt-laced dust. Probably originating from the ground.

[ post #17 ]

So deep in thought that he forgets Military Protocal and reverts to the Team's method of roundtabling & brainstorming, Vooko forgets to raise his hand and stand, "Presumably someone will have methods to ID them and IFF ourselves.

One of them (indicating Remy, Koss, and the unusually taciturn New Lieutenant) should know how to Harvest Poach with something large enough to carry a dozen passengers minimum. A snub, especially one capable of carrying heavy ordnance, makes a lot of noise telling the entire system there's someone about they really want to vape.

Since this commando-type stuff isn't my forte', why am I here?"

__________________
First Law of GMing: Semper Gumby

Show me someone who has never said "It's good to be Evil", I'll show you someone who's never GM'd.

[ post #18 ]

Remy sat quietly through the briefing. In spite of the stories he'd heard of the ramshackle way the Rebels conducted things, the stark professionalism of Colonel Madine and Lt. Dar'tann made it very clear there was no room for tomfoolery and less room for error.

Silence hangs like a wet blanket for a few long seconds before Tumb again speaks, “Are there any questions?”

Still relaxed in his chair, Remy raised his arm, feeling for the life of him as if he were back in school and the teacher had just told them the class project was going to be worth most of their final grade. Which come to think of it, might just be the case.

"First question, do we have viable descriptions of Gardener and Mindsight to work from? Second, how many ships will we have available for the insertion? Given the profile, I'm figuring a single light transport would be the best option for not attracting undue attention, though it might make a hot exit a bit on the tricky side. Further, is there a strict time frame that we're working under aside from the usual 'as-quickly-as-humanly-possible? Becuase if Imperial Intell was on to your boy, it's not a far bet they might be on to Trilth as well. And if we can't make the extract or we find out he's damaged goods, just how much finality do you want in closing his contract? The lieutenant's indication was she doesn't want him putting out a greatest hits album at a later date if he doesn't sign under the Alliance label." Remy paused a moment, looking the stern-faced Miykus dead in the eyes, then added, almost as an afterthought, a slight smirk on his face, "and while we're in the neighborhood, just how much of the garrison do you want standing when we leave?"

__________________
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Donovan Morningfire's new SWSE Rule Changes thread (now featuring v2.0)
My Big List of SWSE NPCs v2.0 (courtesy of d20radio)

[ post #19 ]

After both Vookoo and one of the new guys that was introducing himself to Wynn raised their hands to ask questions, Kelvin was curious about a few things too, raising his hand, asking cheerfully,

"Hey uh, what are we all allowed to take with ourselves? Are we gonna have a couple bikes an speeders or local animals, or are we all hot-footin it? A repulsor sled would be handy if thats the case we're in for a campin trip with tents an' all..."

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├ RPG Info: Signature #46: My Repertoire of RPGs (Updated: 09/09/2006)
└ Please, just refer to me as TJR OR Terras. thx! (08/16/08)

[ post #20 ]

Miykus eyes Vooko, Remy and Kel with an odd mixture of emotions, mostly the same coldness, but with the barest hints of interest and approval, as if she's glad to finally be in the company of logically thinking people.

In response to them, she says, "Before you leave here, you'll each be supplied with high-security datapads with all of the information we've discussed here, as well as complete dossiers on both Mindsight and Gardener. As for the other issues, I believe Colonel Madine withh clear some of that up when he goes into the details of the tactics to be used. As far as time frame, the imperial army is actively hunting Mindsight, who has to walk a thin line, keeping the imperials after him, but not getting captured, until you can take Gardener. Once you secure Gardener, he can leave, either with you, or through the cell to Darlyn Boda, either way, the sooner he gets clear, the better, as the Imperials will eventually catch him, if he is forced to stay too long. If this does happen, and Mindsight is unable to escape or be rescued, you are to close his contract as well. He has level five clearance, and is not someone who can fall into imperial hands.

"As far as the Imperials being informed of Gardener, it is unlikely, as he is leading a significant portion of the search-and-detain force. Still, it is possible. Concerning contract-closing, you are to do just that. Ensure that none of Mindsight's or Gardener's assets, whether physical or mental, can be used against us. Ever. I trust I make myself clear?"

Turning to Kelvin, Miykus answers, "I believe Colonel Madine will clear this up for you."

That said, she again steps back and Madine takes over,

While Chalmyron is a fairly unpopulated planet, the Imperial Army has brought with it the latest in sensor detection systems. Foremost among these systems are a ground to orbit sensor capable of identifying sublight and repulsor emmisions nearly to the edge of the atmosphere, and a network of ground-based sensor pods that, at their maximum gain, could identify energy signatures as small as a nicostick lighter anywhere within a 100 km radius of the main base, or 1 km of each of the rapid deployment stations. Fortunately, local volcanic activity in the form of open seams in the planet's crust force them to block any signature less powerful than, say, a swoop engine. Anything close to this level of power, however, would need to remain close to one of the volcanic seams, or out of sensor range. Thus, while you're on planet, you'll also be on foot, if you must do any travelling. And while a repulsor sled isn't recommended, you'll have access to repulsor-assisted bergens, which have a low energy signature.

The ideal situation post-mission is one where you've landed, secured Gardener and Mindsight, undetected, and gotten away with a minumum of casualties.

Unfortunately, while the ground-based sensors are being dumbed-down, the ground to air sensors suffer no such inhibition. This necessitates a fairly unconventional insertion. Coming out of hyperspace in the Chalmyron system will pose no problems, as the garrison has no long range detection systems, just highly sensitive air sensors. Upon reversion to realspace, you’ll be required to navigate the minefield. This is where the fighters will prove valuable, shooting mines out of the Moonlight Maiden’s path if necessary. Also, they will be expected to deal with any other spaceborne threats that may present themselves, both in the infil and exfil. Upon penetrating the mine field, all ships will enact a piloting program, much like a slave circuit, that will put them at a proper entry angle for entry into Chalmyron’s atmosphere. The program will then kill the engines and let the crafts freefall toward the pre-scouted landing area, a valley between two mountains just northeast of the garrison, out of the sensors’ fields of view. Should anything interfere with this, you will have a backup landing location in your computers, a small sandy area in a canyon where a river falls, emptying into the nearby ocean.

“Once landed, you will proceed to rapid deployment station 55-Jenth (55-J), just south of the garrison, secure Gardener, who is the CO there, and return to the LZ. From either LZ, this should take several days by foot. So prepare accordingly when you report to the quartermaster after the briefing.

“In addition, your hulls will be powdercoated with a compund that will burn up on atmospheric entry, protecting your hulls, and resembling a meteor strike, a very common occurrence in the Chalmyron night sky. For the exfil, repulsors will be necessary, so just try to avoid Imperial forces as much as possible. You should have no problem escaping to hyperspace well ahead of any interceptors.”

Madine gives this a few long moments to sink in, then again asks, “Any further questions?”

__________________
W.W.G.D. - What would Grimace do?

What kind of dust?
Dirt-laced dust. Probably originating from the ground.

[ post #21 ]

After settling himself into a chair in the briefing room and adopting a slightly less than military grade posture- not quite a slouch, but more than a minor deviation- he prepares himself to assimilate the mission briefing.
The Alderaanian lieutenant nods and makes mental notes at the appropriate points during the brief, and finds himself wondering why the zoomies were in the room at all.
Sounds terribly like SpecOps, or- at worst- SpecForce or Intell territory to me. he thought, itching his chin absentmindedly.
Kell decides against commenting among the initial barrage of questions- after all, it would be best to get things out in small chunks, as there is a human tendancy to provide more detail to fewer questions.
At least the zoomies have the common sense to wonder what the hell they're supposed to do. Bodes well for the mission that they're smart., Kell thinks approvingly at the one male pilot (and assuming that his associate is of similar nature). The other... how... rustic- though apparently is aware of the basic logistical needs of the mission. he thought, waiting particualrly to hear this part of the coming explaination.
That's a longass way to Heel-Toe it Kell thought, sighing at both what he knew were the upcoming answers to this and Remy's questions.
How terribly typical of Intell. No fun at all- in 'n out. Still, given the rather apparently sparse reasources being applied to this mission, it makes sense. Hell- I'm probably the most experianced one at this kind of stuff assigned- and I've only done it once. Well... once and a half... he thought.
That mission on Ord Yarndtil counted, even if those partisans had started the firefight before he did. I was just about to anyway... he thought with a mental equivilent of a shrug. That thought triggered a relevent concern.
Raising his hand, Kell asked: "This probably needs to be asked... while I'm aware of and prefer the communal planning and mission pursuance and whatnot... who has command authority to call FUBA- er... abort or other possible necessaries for mission, as far as direction purposes and such?" he said carefully. Kell was unaware of the zoomies' (and their friend's) impact on the command structure and, perhaps more interestingly, Kell was totally unaware of "Captain Koss'" actual rank or position in the command structure. As far as the SpecOpser had gathered, "Captain" was his first name, which, while it did not complicate things on ship, was far more relevent to the mission at hand in times of crisis.

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and
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Captain Koss

[ post #22 ]

Koss takes in the briefing with sober attention, occasionally nodding gravely at certain points made by Major Tumb and Colonel Madine. He starts to jot a few notes to himself on a small pad, as the other team members begin their questions. Something Remy says makes the Sullustan freighter captain look up.

Originally posted by Donovan Morningfire Remy paused a moment, looking the stern-faced Miykus dead in the eyes, then added, almost as an afterthought, a slight smirk on his face, "and while we're in the neighborhood, just how much of the garrison do you want standing when we leave?"

His eyes twinkle brightly at this suggestion, and Koss half-stands from his chair.

KOSS: Yes! Rockets! I say we use rockets! Commandoes on rocket-packs with rocket-launchers! Death from above, to the Enemy Garrison! Death By Rocket!

__________________
"Half the fun of God's forgiveness is having reasons to ask for it."

Last edited by boccelounge on 7 December 2005 at 07:35 PM

[ post #23 ]

Remy had to work hard to keep from rolling his eyes each time Koss made an outburst. The rate he's going, he should have the entire sector convinced he's a first-rate buffoon. Of course, it could all be an elaborate act...

KOSS: Aha! Yes! Like the Solar Sky Raiders, we shall burn our valor into the sky, as we swoop down on the unsuspecting foes!

At this, Remy just lowers his head and shakes it in disgust, muttering under his breath, "So much for that theory."

Madine gives this a few long moments to sink in, then again asks, “Any further questions?”

Remy raises his arm again. "You mentioned snubfighter support in addition the Moonlight Maiden. I'll confess to not knowing how many in this group are qualified fighter pilots, aside from Lieutenant Wynn," he asked, nodding to Cinowynn as he said the last bit. "So how many snubfighters are we being allocated for this mission?"

__________________
I never listen to the Order 66 podcast

Donovan Morningfire's new SWSE Rule Changes thread (now featuring v2.0)
My Big List of SWSE NPCs v2.0 (courtesy of d20radio)

[ post #24 ]

Vooko watches Koss' antics with growing distaste...and concern.

Was he Combat-Lobotomized at some point or does he need to be?

"You mentioned snubfighter support in addition the Moonlight Maiden. I'll confess to not knowing how many in this group are qualified fighter pilots, aside from Lieutenant Wynn,"

Vooko thinks sourly, Then finding out even the absolute basics about whom you'll be stuck working with has slipped past you. As have basic Uniform Regs. Can't recognize Pilot Wings unless they shoot at you?

"So how many snubfighters are we being allocated for this mission?"

Now to see just how much of a Kloo he can stuff into his ears...

"Unless you've brought your own, two. The low profile needed to pull this off is likely to preclude participation of pilots not present, and then only in a worst-case situation we'd prefer not to experience.

Fortunately for you, the ships are custom-engineered and give us more options than Incom or Blissex hands out."

To Madine, "Sir, what kind of supply, security, and/or camo options are available at the LZ? Finding our way out after groundpounding a very significant distance confiscated by Imps or crashed by some snot-nosed kid with less sense than bravado will heavily cripple the op, and your reputations. Being able to adapt a solution At Runtime sounds to be desirable, if not critical, to success.

Also, how much time do we have for prep & sim?" Recalling the extensive injuries his sister had suffered from a low-level avian strike forcing a very hot dead-stick landing, "Given the method of going in, as a team we all need to not only be sharp on our piloting, but crash recovery and repair as well. I'm presuming that having us stuck Dirtside there as well would be a very Bad Thing all round."

__________________
First Law of GMing: Semper Gumby

Show me someone who has never said "It's good to be Evil", I'll show you someone who's never GM'd.

Last edited by Vanger Chevane on 8 December 2005 at 10:40 PM

[ post #25 ]

That said, she again steps back and Madine takes over, While Chalmyron is a fairly unpopulated planet, the Imperial Army has brought with it the latest in sensor detection systems. Foremost among these systems are a ground to orbit sensor capable of identifying sublight and repulsor emmisions nearly to the edge of the atmosphere, and a network of ground-based sensor pods that, at their maximum gain, could identify energy signatures as small as a nicostick lighter anywhere within a 100 km radius of the main base, or 1 km of each of the rapid deployment stations. Fortunately, local volcanic activity in the form of open seams in the planet's crust force them to block any signature less powerful than, say, a swoop engine. Anything close to this level of power, however, would need to remain close to one of the volcanic seams, or out of sensor range. Thus, while you're on planet, you'll also be on foot, if you must do any travelling. And while a repulsor sled isn't recommended, you'll have access to repulsor-assisted bergens, which have a low energy signature.

"So in otherwords, it is a 'nature walk' and 'camping trip', low tech all the way. Thats all I needed to know for packin the bags. Thankyou sir." Kelvin replies appreciatively, with a bit of a grin, looking at the rest of the group, "This is gonna be fun. I hope some of you don't mind 'roughing it' "

KOSS: Yes! Rockets! I say we use rockets! Commandoes on rocket-packs with rocket-launchers! Death from above, to the Enemy Garrison! Death By Rocket!

Kelvin couldn't help it, adressing the solustan directly, "Are you frellin nuts?!? Thats not covert! To pull this off, not alert the Imperials, we must be one with the forest. I've heard of designated decoys but rocket packs just take the Ryshhcake! You'll bring the entire down upon us." Kelvin shakes his head in utter disbeleif...

__________________
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└ Please, just refer to me as TJR OR Terras. thx! (08/16/08)

Last edited by Terras Jadeonar & Raven on 9 December 2005 at 06:53 AM

Captain Koss

[ post #26 ]

Originally posted by Terras Jadeonar & Raven Kelvin couldn't help it, adressing the solustan directly, "Are you frellin nuts?!? Thats not covert! To pull this off, not alert the Imperials, we must be one with the forest. I've heard of designated decoys but rocket packs just take the Ryshhcake! You'll bring the entire down upon us." Kelvin shakes his head in utter disbeleif...

The Sullustan considers this thoughtfully for a moment...

KOSS: Yes... yes. You speak truly. It is said that "fortune favors the bold," but I agree that we should favor stealth!

__________________
"Half the fun of God's forgiveness is having reasons to ask for it."

Last edited by boccelounge on 9 December 2005 at 07:32 PM

Don't get comfortable!

[ post #27 ]

"This probably needs to be asked... while I'm aware of and prefer the communal planning and mission pursuance and whatnot... who has command authority to call FUBA- er... abort or other possible necessaries for mission, as far as direction purposes and such?"

Madine pauses a moment to regard Brannick almost quizzically, before answering, “Why, you do, Lieutenant. You do have the most experience in this sort of thing, am I not correct? You will be the overall leader, with Lt. Antilles as a second decision-maker in the event of a group split or casualties. In addition, Radegant will be considered to have specialist’s status for this mission, with respect to wilderness operations. Within this field of knowledge, his wisdom and judgement will override those of the rest of the group. While spaceborne, Lt. Antilles has first command. So you see, with such an irregular unit as this, leadership falls upon whomever is best suited for leadership.”

KOSS: Aha! Yes! Like the Solar Sky Raiders, we shall burn our valor into the sky, as we swoop down on the unsuspecting foes!

After Koss’s tirade, all three of the brass hesitate for a few long seconds to stare at Koss in dumbfounded disbelief. Madine looks almost as if he is fighting off a grin, while Dar’tann looks totally disgusted. Tumb, for his part, is showing every ounce of dismay he can pull from his already mournful looking features. You can almost see him thinking, but he came so highly recommended!

To Madine, "Sir, what kind of supply, security, and/or camo options are available at the LZ? Finding our way out after groundpounding a very significant distance confiscated by Imps or crashed by some snot-nosed kid with less sense than bravado will heavily cripple the op, and your reputations. Being able to adapt a solution At Runtime sounds to be desirable, if not critical, to success. Also, how much time do we have for prep & sim?" Recalling the extensive injuries his sister had suffered from a low-level avian strike forcing a very hot dead-stick landing, "Given the method of going in, as a team we all need to not only be sharp on our piloting, but crash recovery and repair as well. I'm presuming that having us stuck Dirtside there as well would be a very Bad Thing all round."

“Each ship will be supplied both with camouflaged netting sufficient to cover the ship, as well as a magnalock for each hatch. To use the camo netting, simply spread it over the ground nearby for a few minutes, then drape it over the ships. It will take on not only the color, but also the sensor characteristics of the ground it was on.

“As far as prep and sim, I’m afraid you won’t have much time. We needed to keep this assignment as quiet as possible, and thus we couldn’t have you knowing this information and walking around Solitude, security compromised. You were chosen because you are the best people for the mission. And we are confident that you’ll have no trouble completeing the task. That said, you’ll be travelling to the Chalmyron system via the escort carrier Eripsa. On board, you’ll be residing in a section sealed off from the rest of the ship. This section will be equipped with several sim units for you to make dry runs. The trip to Chalmyron will last approximately a day and a half. When you come out of hyperspace, you will be expected to have your ships hot and ready. You’ll leave the Eripsa’s docking bay and she’ll return to hyperspace immediately, waiting only for green codes from each of your craft. Now, the Eripsa will be arriving in just a few hours. This will be enough time for you to report to the quartermaster intelligence brought with them, who will get you what you need from the Solitude’s supplies. You’ll be departing from this station at 0400 tommorow morning, standard time, and will be making planetfall on Chalmyron about this time two days from now. Between times, you are to have no contact whatsoever with any of the base’s personnel. The only people you are cleared to speak to are myself, Major Tumb, Lt. Dar’tann, and the intelligence people. Is that clear?”

__________________
W.W.G.D. - What would Grimace do?

What kind of dust?
Dirt-laced dust. Probably originating from the ground.

[ post #28 ]

After a moment passes, a hidden door panel slides open in the front of the room, and Lieutenant Dar'tann says,

"This corridor leads to the intelligence ship I arrived in. You'll find a single large passenger berth onboard for you to spend the night in. My people will bring your belongings from your rooms. Once you are settled in, I suggest you get some rest. Tommorow promises to be a long day."

__________________
W.W.G.D. - What would Grimace do?

What kind of dust?
Dirt-laced dust. Probably originating from the ground.

[ post #29 ]

Still confused about his role and the lack of critical answers, as calmly and respectfully as he can...

"Lieutenant, I still fell that my role Dirtside is unclear and need to know what I'mr supposed to be doing, as well as what kind of supply & repair will be available there in order to help pull this off as successfully and smoothly as possible.

I'd be grateful if you could get me that information quickly."

__________________
First Law of GMing: Semper Gumby

Show me someone who has never said "It's good to be Evil", I'll show you someone who's never GM'd.

[ post #30 ]

Stepping over to Cinowyn, Remy offered his hand in greeting, "Sorry if I seemed a mite rude earlier, lieutenant. The name's Remy Marsteen."

Wynn inclines her head in acceptance of the apology, as she took the man's hand. "Pleased to meet you, Master Marsteen." The Gran announced the Major as soon as the greeting was past her lips. The pilot gives another gracious nod & mouthes, "We'll speak more," then takes a seat near her wing, hoping the Sollustan's serious mood will stay serious, considering how solemn Tumb is now..

For a brief moment, the woman, Dar'tann, reminds her of her mother--but only for a moment. The hair is too dark, the eyes too pale, the woman's mien too superior, with none of the graciousness that Lady Antilles used to conceal her true reactions. Wynn listens to the briefing details, then her teammates' queries. Not being strong in the area of logistics, Wynn isn't sure if she'll be any use is supply requisitioning. So the sometime noble takes mental notes of what they ask about. As far as she can tell they have pretty much covered the basics. She's also impressed by Kel's specific skills--perhaps she should find out how he knows what to look for. She does have her personal gear already stowed between the Star Dancer & Razzle.

Remy paused a moment...then added, almost as an after thought..., "and while we're in the neighborhood, just how much of the garrison do you want standing when we leave?" His eyes twinkle brightly at this suggestion, and Koss half-stands from his chair. KOSS: Yes! Rockets! I say we use rockets! Commandoes on rocket-packs with rocket-launchers! Death from above, to the Enemy Garrison! Death By Rocket!

Lt. Antilles gives Koss a quelling stare. Remy's question isn't unreasonable, though the phrasing isn't her style, but Koss' outburst is not going to endear them to these high-up Alliance officers. "Marsteen has a point--what are our secondary or tertiary objectives, if any?"

Upon penetrating the mine field, all ships will enact a piloting program, much like a slave circuit, that will put them at a proper entry angle for entry into Chalmyron’s atmosphere. The program will then kill the engines... KOSS: I am liking this less than before! Making the pilots slaves to a computer?! Killing engines?! This is no passable proposition for proficient pilots such as these!

My sentiments exactly! But I so wish he'd not seen fit to make them for me Wynn moaned silently. "I thank you for your concern for my wing and myself, dear Captain, but we will take up issues related to snubfighters," she told him. For most beings the warning edge in her otherwise-conversational tone would have been subtle, as would the annoyance on her features--but it was plain now that "subtle" would be missed by Koss. Unless having a 20-octave, triple-grand Naboo clavier dropped on one fits the definition of "subtle..."

After Koss’s tirade, all three of the brass hesitate for a few long seconds to stare at Koss in dumbfounded disbelief. Madine looks almost as if he is fighting off a grin, while Dar’tann looks totally disgusted. Tumb, for his part, is showing every ounce of dismay he can pull from his already mournful looking features. You can almost see him thinking, but he came so highly recommended!

Wynn shoots the Major a despairing "But I tried, I really tried! And I'll keep trying!" look of apology. She makes yet one more effort to rein in this drama-king. "Captain Koss, sir," she whispers in exasperation, touching his arm, "These officers are trying their best to make this a short meeting, as you requested yourself. Please sit & let them get on, so that it does conclude at a reasonable hour." How did mother keep some highranked boor from going on & on? I wish I knew--or that a trapdoor to a rancor would open under his feet!

Then Remy's asking about the number of pilots irritates Vooko. But he keeps control, as Wynn had expected of him. She nods in approval of his comments, including his not mentioning the 2 snubs are personal property. She still doesn't like these officers' plan for her & Vook's snubbies, and speaks up in support of his request for sim-time after Madine refuses it. "Colonel, I must protest this overly-limited sim-time. I am sure that your subordinates have made you aware of how heavily-modded these 2 fighter-craft are. It is essential for the mission sucess that we ensure that the landing programs you deem needful for our entry will work properly with these snubs' systems. For example, the unique foils on my X-wing affect it's behavior significantly. Also, refit of this craft was completed only this afternoon." If the program will work at all with them...

Still confused about his role and the lack of critical answers, as calmly and respectfully as he can... "Lieutenant, I still fell that my role Dirtside is unclear and need to know what I'mr supposed to be doing, as well as what kind of supply & repair will be available there in order to help pull this off as successfully and smoothly as possible. I'd be grateful if you could get me that information quickly."

Wynn adds, "I would be grateful as well, Colonel, Lt."

__________________
Duty.
Honor.
Good Looks.
Motto, Rouge Squadron, Rebel Legion

Re: Don't get comfortable!

[ post #31 ]

Originally posted by coldskier0320 Madine pauses a moment to regard Brannick almost quizzically, before answering, “Why, you do, Lieutenant. You do have the most experience in this sort of thing, am I not correct? You will be the overall leader, with Lt. Antilles as a second decision-maker in the event of a group split or casualties. In addition, Radegant will be considered to have specialist’s status for this mission, with respect to wilderness operations. Within this field of knowledge, his wisdom and judgement will override those of the rest of the group. While spaceborne, Lt. Antilles has first command. So you see, with such an irregular unit as this, leadership falls upon whomever is best suited for leadership.”

Kell nods his head in comprehension. "I suspected as much, indeed, it is how we tend to operate in SpecOps- still, I was uncertain as to the status of my paramilitary travel companions or the Fighter Command officers in comparison to my own as far as such a mission is concerned. In any case, it eliminates any uncertainty on mine- and I suspect, others'- parts, and I am glad to see such a... diverse mission group has such a problem as overabundance of expertise and intellect." he says, his expression more or less blank outside of a small frown, common to men who are in some deeper thought for a moment.
"In case of... casualties? Why didn't he just come out and say "you" in this case. No matter... that's not going to happen, is it? Kell thought. Further pondering was interuppted by one of Koss' outbursts:

KOSS: Aha! Yes! Like the Solar Sky Raiders, we shall burn our valor into the sky, as we swoop down on the unsuspecting foes!

Kell is unable to restrain his developing tic, and a muscle in his face twitched, temporarily turning the right side of his face into a forlorn grimace. The response of the brass was all too typical- of course he's nuts... how do you think you got the sector guys to hand him over on such short notice, magic? he thought, shaking his head.

"Captain Koss, sir," she whispers in exasperation, touching his arm, "These officers are trying their best to make this a short meeting, as you requested yourself. Please sit & let them get on, so that it does conclude at a reasonable hour."

Kell restrains a laugh in his throat- Good luck with that, sister... he thought, thinking vaguely that the woman looked somewhat familliar. Brushing such thoughts aside for a later time, Kell's mind then wandered to the nearly non-existant preperatory phase and to the apparently well planned landing and initial mission phase.

“Each ship will be supplied both with camouflaged netting sufficient to cover the ship, as well as a magnalock for each hatch. To use the camo netting, simply spread it over the ground nearby for a few minutes, then drape it over the ships. It will take on not only the color, but also the sensor characteristics of the ground it was on.

At least we have an actual plan... better than usual. he thought, a ironic smile drifting up to the surface unconsciously. If our crack squad of pilots can manage to pull things off getting in, then the problems should be confined to the inevitable appearance of enemy troops or local wildlife at just the wrong moment, where they have the opportunity to bungle things beyond repair... also better than usual.

__________________
I desire what is good. Therefore, everyone who does not agree with me is a traitor-- King George III
"The ability to quote is a serviceable substitute for wit." -- W. Somerset Maugham
Check out Run to the Rim (NEW! Updated 1/24/08!)
and
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[ post #32 ]

“As far as prep and sim, I’m afraid you won’t have much time. We needed to keep this assignment as quiet as possible, and thus we couldn’t have you knowing this information and walking around Solitude, security compromised. You were chosen because you are the best people for the mission. And we are confident that you’ll have no trouble completeing the task. That said, you’ll be travelling to the Chalmyron system via the escort carrier Eripsa. On board, you’ll be residing in a section sealed off from the rest of the ship. This section will be equipped with several sim units for you to make dry runs. The trip to Chalmyron will last approximately a day and a half. When you come out of hyperspace, you will be expected to have your ships hot and ready. You’ll leave the Eripsa’s docking bay and she’ll return to hyperspace immediately, waiting only for green codes from each of your craft. Now, the Eripsa will be arriving in just a few hours. This will be enough time for you to report to the quartermaster intelligence brought with them, who will get you what you need from the Solitude’s supplies. You’ll be departing from this station at 0400 tommorow morning, standard time, and will be making planetfall on Chalmyron about this time two days from now. Between times, you are to have no contact whatsoever with any of the base’s personnel. The only people you are cleared to speak to are myself, Major Tumb, Lt. Dar’tann, and the intelligence people. Is that clear?”

Letting the rest voice their comments, concerns and questions, Kelvin sits back, not much chance of getting something in if he had wanted to... (without an outburst like the Captain did)...

"Hey, don'cha think thats kinda over-redundant on the no-talk policey? Not to talk to anyone of lesser clearance considering we're being escorted to select quarters soon as we're all done here? And does that include no messages to pals to at least say 'sorry, we're headin out, catch ya later when / if we get back. else it's been great time spent with ya' sorta thing?"

"Minor redundancy aside, what's the backup plan? or is there a backup plan or failsafe point to fall back on should something go wrong at any point, and I do mean any point, Or just how much leeway do we have for comin up with somethin. Y'know, like when some yokel accidentally drops the fizz-stick into the nerf pen and next thing ya know, it's instant no time for 'oh-frell' time?"

"Not that I don't want to rain on anyones parade, but things rarely ever go according to plan right? No offense to intel, I'd just rather asume something will go wrong, then it just ain't so bad when something does go wrong. "
Kelvin finishes with an upwards hands shoulder shrug, being kinda speculative and hopeful in jest, with a fleeting smile feeling that he had to bring it up if no-one else did.

WARNING: The following text contains spoilers concerning "ooc." Hope nobody minds a bit of classic -=- Steve Buscemi -=- pessemistic optimisim intended flavor here

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Last edited by Terras Jadeonar & Raven on 15 December 2005 at 10:55 AM

[ post #33 ]

"Lieutenant, I still fell that my role Dirtside is unclear and need to know what I'mr supposed to be doing, as well as what kind of supply & repair will be available there in order to help pull this off as successfully and smoothly as possible.

"Your role, and that of Lieutenant Antilles will become much more of a support role in this assignment. While this may seem a misallocation of personnel to you at this point, you may change your mind after you get to that mine field. This will be the third such mission we've sent to similarly mined planets. Should you make it planetside unscathed, you'll be the first."

Dar'tann lets this hang in the silence a moment, to ensure that the pilots don't take their roles lightly, before addressing Kel.

Hey, don'cha think thats kinda over-redundant on the no-talk policey? Not to talk to anyone of lesser clearance considering we're being escorted to select quarters soon as we're all done here? And does that include no messages to pals to at least say 'sorry, we're headin out, catch ya later when / if we get back. else it's been great time spent with ya' sorta thing?

Dar'tann manages to show a little annoyance as well as some confidence, though serenity is still clearly in the vast majority among her surface emotions, "This is simply standard security measures for an Intelligence mission. And no, you will most certainly not be permitted to make transmissions of any sort between now and H-hour. You may, however, leave recordings here on Solitude.

"Minor redundancy aside, what's the backup plan? or is there a backup plan or failsafe point to fall back on should something go wrong at any point, and I do mean any point, Or just how much leeway do we have for comin up with somethin. Y'know, like when some yokel accidentally drops the fizz-stick into the nerf pen and next thing ya know, it's instant no time for 'oh-frell' time?"

At this, all three of the briefers stare at Kel, wearing much the same expression they'd worn after Koss's sudden outburst. A few long moments pass; Miykus finds herself first,

"Uh", she begins, a strand of dark red hair finally falling from its severe style to frame the left side of the young woman's face, making her appear a little more approachable, but by no means friendly, "You will have full and total access to any options available to you. Your priorities are yourselves first, Gardener second, and Mindsight a distant third."

After a moment of silence, Madine takes over, "Then if you'll follow me...", as a secret, disguised panel slides up in the rear of th room, revealing a dimly lit passage.

Filing down the narrow walkway, Madine in front, and Dar'tann bringing up the rear, the group winds their way through the nearly total darkness, finally arriving at the other end. Palming an unseen control, the dead end slides up with a series of hisses and clicks to reveal a smallish room, lined with bunks.

As the entire group assembles in the room, Madine motions to a stack of datapads on a low table near the wall, "You can put all of your gear requests on those. I'll be back in fifteen minutes to retrieve the datapads, and an hour after that, you'll get as much of it as possible. After that, I suggest you get some sleep."

And with that, the three officers head back into the passage, which seals shut behind them. Apparently, the path leads into the room you'll be riding in. The Eripsa must have arrived.

__________________
W.W.G.D. - What would Grimace do?

What kind of dust?
Dirt-laced dust. Probably originating from the ground.

[ post #34 ]

Kelvin grinned inwardly to himself, thinking the loose strand of hair was a major improvement on the lady. He had to wonder what a smile would do to further her looks.

The breifing was pretty much over, they were led from the briefing room into the small bunk quarters. On the way out, Kelvin stole a brief glance at Miykus as he passed by.

"Dibs on top bunk!" Kelvin enthusiastically shouted, soon as he stepped into the room, then making a B-line for the table and datapads as soon as he saw them.

"Hey Wynn, whats your pref?" noting she being the only female of their group.

Kelvin grabed a couple datapads and went to work their survival gear.

Per person: Aquata Breather x1 Breath Mask x1 Camouflage Poncho x1 Comlink x1 Distress Beacon [Saladar Systems PED-21] x1 Dura-Shelter [Adventure Hiker & Hunter] x1 Electrobinoculars x1 Energy Cell x5, Glow rod x3, Grappling Spike Launcher x1 Medpac x3, Ration Pack [Adventure Hiker & Hunter] x3, Syntherope (20m length) [Degan Explorations] x1 Water Jug Filter [SurvivalGear] x1

"Hey Vook, would'ya have a look at this? I had something in mind. What do you think?" Kel calls his pal over, with one of those is it doable' grins, pointing to a particular item on the list...

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└ Please, just refer to me as TJR OR Terras. thx! (08/16/08)

Last edited by Terras Jadeonar & Raven on 19 January 2006 at 10:53 PM

[ post #35 ]

Looking over Kelvin's shoulder: "Does being two meters closer to the stars make that much of a difference to you?

Hmmm...you want to comm-enable the beacon? Shouldn't be too tough, provided we can get a clear range of channels to operate on.

Or were you wanting voice activation? Might wanna take along some real food and a stove to avoid Graybar Sickness as long as reasonable."

__________________
First Law of GMing: Semper Gumby

Show me someone who has never said "It's good to be Evil", I'll show you someone who's never GM'd.

[ post #36 ]

Kell sighs and follows Madine into the staging room.
Laying his stuff on one of the bottom bunks, Kell takes a datapad and enters his armarment request:

1x AVt Combat Jumpsuit w/ blast helmet 1x Snooper goggles in lieu of electro binoculars 1x Blaster Rifle (Merr-Sonn G8) w/ std cleaning kit, bipod and sonic scope 1x Blaster Pistol (Blastech DL-22) 1x Underbarrel grenade launcher (Zone Control Viper 2) 1x Laserhone Vibrodagger with boot sheathe Ammunition Bandolier with 8 spare power packs and 10 fragmentation grenades All weapon requests assume supply of standard ammunition capacity (i.e. power pack/grenade mag). 1x Standard survival kit -Recommend all personel carry sidearm (blaster pistol) and if cleared, blaster carbine/rifle -Further recommend all comlinks issued be hands-free/headset supporting models

Nodding in approval of his handywork, Kell returns the pad and stretches out on the bed, using it as a makeshift couch.
"Anyone up for a game of sabaac?" he asks once everyone is settled in.

__________________
I desire what is good. Therefore, everyone who does not agree with me is a traitor-- King George III
"The ability to quote is a serviceable substitute for wit." -- W. Somerset Maugham
Check out Run to the Rim (NEW! Updated 1/24/08!)
and
Old Friends, New Republic (Updated 12/27/07)

Last edited by Rostek on 20 January 2006 at 09:11 PM

[ post #37 ]

Looking over Kelvin's shoulder: "Does being two meters closer to the stars make that much of a difference to you?

Kelvin shrugs, "Eh, personal preferance."

"Why shouldn't we have a clear range of comm channels? Place is more backwater and unpopulated than home Vook... Hmm, maybe one or two with voice, rest I think just to be comm activated. "

"Stoves? nah. Bonfire. Wont even need any lit-sticks, just a couple of twigs and a bit of patience." Kelvin smiles.

"Greybar sickness on the otherhand, I think i'll just stick to my baggie of chewies and hope I have enough to last the flight. Or maybe Doc Goldie can prescribe something so I don't get quite near as sick?"

"Sabacc? Maybe on flight for somethin to pass the time with..." Kelvin responds to the invite.... Then continues to work on the equipment list, now for the personal gear.

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└ Please, just refer to me as TJR OR Terras. thx! (08/16/08)

Last edited by Terras Jadeonar & Raven on 20 January 2006 at 09:18 PM

[ post #38 ]

"Hey Wynn, whats your pref?" noting she being the only female of their group.

"That one," she says, pointing at a bunk in the corner. "Gentlemen, could you do me a favor & come up with a gear list for me? I've no head for logistics. Cory--the first Shooting Stars CO--useta say if I were Logistics Officer, I wouldn't even remember to requisition snub fuel. And I nearly decked Guay the time he said it was 'cause I'd always had stuff given to me."
She snags a datapad, plus the pillows from a couple spare bunks, using them to prop herself up on her chosen bunk. Taking out her stylus, she begins a letter to her brother.

"Greybar sickness on the otherhand, I think i'll just stick to my baggie of chewies and hope I have enough to last the flight. Or maybe Doc Goldie can prescribe something so I don't get quite near as sick?"

"Even if she did, you probably wouldn't care for the route of administration. Better ask her to prescribe a Real Food Only diet," Wynn replied, putting her 'pad down for a moment. "And speaking of Real Food, I could use a midnight snack about now--whether it's midnight or not."

"Anyone up for a game of sabaac?" he asks once everyone is settled in.

"Sorry, Kell, another thing I don't have a head for, and I really want to leave this letter." Wynn actually knew how to play but didn't care for the game, & had found claiming lack of talent was more "socially accpetable" than saying she found it boring. Wynn had learned the game from Leto Janus, Aldaraan's Surgeon General, as a girl, but only to humor the dear old man, who had been like a bachelor uncle to her & her younger siblings.

__________________
Duty.
Honor.
Good Looks.
Motto, Rouge Squadron, Rebel Legion

[ post #39 ]

"And speaking of Real Food, I could use a midnight snack about now--whether it's midnight or not. "Sorry, Kell, another thing I don't have a head for, and I really want to leave this letter." "

Sounds good if you don't mind the company. I should update my Journal as well, (with a side glance to Kelvin he knew would register) just in case...

But we all have a big problem to chew on as well.

We're sposed to fly through a live minefield, and I recall those aren't usually any kinder to unknown contacts as those they recognize as Foe.

We don't have the time to research, let alone rig up looks or sensor profiles, but is there any way we can get & overlay legit Republic IFFs so only the Imp stuff will try to kill us?"

__________________
First Law of GMing: Semper Gumby

Show me someone who has never said "It's good to be Evil", I'll show you someone who's never GM'd.

[ post #40 ]

Remy snatched up a datapad from the table, then chose a section of wall to lean against as he considered what he might need that he didn't already have. He'd learned to travel light and to keep the basics on him at all times. Still, after that fiasco out towards the Kathol Sector, there were a few items he might as well try to get.

- Shadowsuit - Breath Mask - 3 Power Packs - Mil-Spec Encrypted Comlink (if possible, one for each group member) - Ziko 1125 Heads-Up Macrobinoculars - Neuro-Saav TeleSonic Audio Pickup w/ headgear mount - 20 meter length of syntherope - Two changes of non-descript civilian clothing, one set a little on the baggy side. - 500 credits in local currency - Falsified IDs w/ plausible cover-story for as many of us as possible.

He considered adding more survival-orientated gear, but had a hunch that the ground-pounders would have a better idea of what would be needed. Placing his datapad back on the table with the others, Remy turned to stow his gear next to one of the unoccupied bunks, one that was preferably as far away from Koss as possible.

"Even if she did, you probably wouldn't care for the route of administration. Better ask her to prescribe a Real Food Only diet," Wynn replied, putting her 'pad down for a moment. "And speaking of Real Food, I could use a midnight snack about now--whether it's midnight or not."

She's expecting real-food in this place? Remy thought to himself as he checked the power pack on his blaster, more out of habit than anything else. I've seen better chow-halls in the refugee sectors on Nar Shaddaa.

"I suppose one last decent meal before we start living off ration packs wouldn't be a bad idea," Remy added, making sure his 'tools of the trade' were in good working order. He may not have made the grade as a professional soldier, but when you did what he did to make your way in the galaxy, it never hurt to make sure your gear was as ready as you were. He'd heard and seen too many stories of half-cocked hot-shots that got long stretches in the Imperial Graywall Hotel becuase their gear wasn't up to scratch. [i]At least that last nimrod I had to work with had the decency to get himself snuffed without taking me with him,[i] Remy concluded. No he just had to hope the same held true here. He still wasn't quite up to par on the Rebellion's ranking systems, but from the sounds of things most of the group had worked together before. The only left was to see if the new wild cards would be sabers or fools.

"Anyone up for a game of sabaac?" Kell asks once everyone is settled in.

"Sounds like a good way to pass some time," Remy responds after tucking his gear away. "You willing to risk a few credits or is this Imperial Senate rules?" he asked with a sly grin.

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Last edited by Donovan Morningfire on 27 January 2006 at 09:38 PM

[ post #41 ]

"Sorry, Kell, another thing I don't have a head for, and I really want to leave this letter."

Kell nodded- "Of course. I used to be a hot hand at Aldera Poly's club circuit before I left for the Academy. They don't look too fondly on gambling at Corulag, so I've been rather rusty. If you want, I can give you some assistance if you want to participate in the future. Offer's on the table- keep it in mind. A lot of this stuff is mind-numbing travel." the Alderaanian said, chuckling to himself.

"Sounds like a good way to pass some time," Remy responds after tucking his gear away. "You willing to risk a few credits or is this Imperial Senate rules?" he asked with a sly grin.

Kell laughed- "Against a shark like you? Senate rules shall suffice to pass the time, I believe." he said with a sardonic smile.

__________________
I desire what is good. Therefore, everyone who does not agree with me is a traitor-- King George III
"The ability to quote is a serviceable substitute for wit." -- W. Somerset Maugham
Check out Run to the Rim (NEW! Updated 1/24/08!)
and
Old Friends, New Republic (Updated 12/27/07)

[ post #42 ]

"Thanks for the tip Wynn, I'll take your word about the prescription. Midnight snack? Now your making me hungry, and I left my baggie or chewies back in my duffelbag. Else i'd offer ya some." Kelvin shrugged sympathetically, nothing else he could do about it. Well, nothing that'd make the staff pleased anyways. And he seriously doubted the staff had the same sense of humor as the training sargeants back at camp. Not that he was too worried about Miykus, it was the other two he really didn't wanna cross.

Kelvin caught that certain glance from Vooko, and knew what it meant. He and Vook were pretty good at exchanging glances back when kids, it was almost like a second language for them. Well, there were those few times he or Vooko misread, Kel mused.

His attention was just about to get back to the datapad, when he heard the other two newcomers chat sabac rules. Oh, this is too good to resist
"Imperial Senate Rules? Wheres the fun in that? Hey, you guys never heard of 'Poor Mans Rules' ? Loser gets the week's task of laundry or whatever. Best played in a group, like the half dozen of us. See, it came from us having to delegate chores. And sometimes laundry was just rank, specially if someone stashed a few items for 2 weeks, poor guy."

With a grin from some of the more memorable occasions, Kelvin got back to work with the datapad. Next Entry:

Kelvin's Gear: Arrows (10) x3, Blaster [Sporting Rifle, Drearian Defense Conglomerate 'Light Sport'], Bow, Credit Chip, Dura-Shelter [Adventure Hiker & Hunter], Grappling Spike Launcher, Knife x2, Macrobinoculars, Syntherope (20m length) [Degan Explorations], Utility Belt (Contains 3 days rations, 1x Medpac, 1x Tool kit, 1x Power pack, 1x Energy Cell, 1x Glow rod, 1x Comlink, Couple Empty Pouches),

"Hey Vook, wanna do Wynn's list? you know her longer than I have." Kelvin smiles.

On the next datapad, Kelvin wrote a letter home, starting with 'Dear Mom', and finished it with 'P.S. DOn't worry, both I and Wynn will lookk after Vook.'

__________________
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├ RPG Info: Signature #46: My Repertoire of RPGs (Updated: 09/09/2006)
└ Please, just refer to me as TJR OR Terras. thx! (08/16/08)

[ post #43 ]

"Imperial Senate Rules? Wheres the fun in that? Hey, you guys never heard of 'Poor Mans Rules' ? Loser gets the week's task of laundry or whatever. Best played in a group, like the half dozen of us. See, it came from us having to delegate chores. And sometimes laundry was just rank, specially if someone stashed a few items for 2 weeks, poor guy."

Vooko half grumbles, half jokes "Like you and your Hiking Skivvies, Sock-boy?"

"Hey Vook, wanna do Wynn's list? you know her longer than I have."

Already trying to marshal thoughts for his Journal, he replies distractedly "Aside from what I already have in my Crash Kit and some of the feminine conveniences Zarya always insisted on, I'm pretty much at a loss right now. Can ya put together some suggestions I can go over in a bit?"

__________________
First Law of GMing: Semper Gumby

Show me someone who has never said "It's good to be Evil", I'll show you someone who's never GM'd.

[ post #44 ]

Originally posted by Terras Jadeonar & Raven His attention was just about to get back to the datapad, when he heard the other two newcomers chat sabac rules. Oh, this is too good to resist "Imperial Senate Rules? Wheres the fun in that? Hey, you guys never heard of 'Poor Mans Rules' ? Loser gets the week's task of laundry or whatever. Best played in a group, like the half dozen of us. See, it came from us having to delegate chores. And sometimes laundry was just rank, specially if someone stashed a few items for 2 weeks, poor guy."

Kell's eyes twinkled and he barked a laugh-
"It's fun for me not to pay this shark my hard earned credits or do his business and still waste the time. Were it one of you gents, I might think otherwise, but our friend here is quite the hand at games of chance, I'm afraid." he said, removing his deck from his pocket and inserting the interferance field and randomizer program into his datapad, and setting the airport to the cards' frequency.

__________________
I desire what is good. Therefore, everyone who does not agree with me is a traitor-- King George III
"The ability to quote is a serviceable substitute for wit." -- W. Somerset Maugham
Check out Run to the Rim (NEW! Updated 1/24/08!)
and
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[ post #45 ]

"A card shark?" Remy responded to Kell's statement.

"Just becuase I happened to have a lucky streak doesn't mean I'm a pro. Granted, I've had plenty of time to brush up my rules, and it's pretty hard to pull off three consecutive Idiot's Arrays in a row without a skifter or three," Remy pauses to raise his arms as though to say Nothing up my sleeves, folks, "doesn't make me a card shark, just very lucky," Remy said, shrugging as he said the last bit.

"But seeing as how our dealer is a tad reluctant to up the ante, let's just keep it at Imperial Senate rules for the meantime," he added as an afterthought. "Unless you think you're too macho for just a friendly game of cards?" Remy added in an amused voice.

Casting a sly grin in Wynn's direction, Remy asks, "Are you sure you can't be convinced to share a few hands with us?" Have to admit, she's a lot easier to look at than the rest of this crew, and twice as much as that group on Bestine. And if the work she put into her snub is any indication, she's got quite a bit to bring to the table.

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Donovan Morningfire's new SWSE Rule Changes thread (now featuring v2.0)
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[ post #46 ]

Originally posted by Donovan Morningfire "A card shark?" Remy responded to Kell's statement. "Just becuase I happened to have a lucky streak doesn't mean I'm a pro. Granted, I've had plenty of time to brush up my rules, and it's pretty hard to pull off three consecutive Idiot's Arrays in a row without a skifter or three," Remy pauses to raise his arms as though to say Nothing up my sleeves, folks, "doesn't make me a card shark, just very lucky," Remy said, shrugging as he said the last bit.

Kell raised an eyebrow, not convinced-
"In my experiance, the differance between a lucky man and a shark is purely semantics, as the result for mere mortals such as myself is the same. In any case- I reinterate that offer is open to all that care to partake. I would be willing to use fracs- maybe five creds a piece total chips, five hundred pieces worth. Should make things reminicent of an actual match, if that is the experiance so desired."
"I'm sure you can forgive me- I'm saving my cash to assist in the aquiring of a Prax Blast and Smash- the wet dream of every chaos-wreaking SpecOps weapons officer. I have a former classmate on a privateer, who says he can get one, but I'll need to cover at the very least the sticker price of 6,500- probably more, which means I'm rather tightfisted at the moment out of necessity. The ordinance office is rather stingy with handing them out, since they only have a few dozen- and most of them go to the SpecForcers, for good reason. That and... well, we in the Ops tend to break our toys more often than usual." he said, shrugging.

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Check out Run to the Rim (NEW! Updated 1/24/08!)
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Koss	[ post #47 ]

Originally posted by coldskier0320 As the entire group assembles in the room, Madine motions to a stack of datapads on a low table near the wall, "You can put all of your gear requests on those. I'll be back in fifteen minutes to retrieve the datapads, and an hour after that, you'll get as much of it as possible. After that, I suggest you get some sleep."

The Sullustan surveys the room with great intent; despite the simplicity of the arrangements, he seems to take great care studying its contents and layout.

After a time, Koss nods in grave approval, muttering to himself.

KOSS: Yes, yes... very well done...

__________________
"Half the fun of God's forgiveness is having reasons to ask for it."

Last edited by boccelounge on 26 January 2006 at 12:26 AM

[ post #48 ]

"Koss my good man, i've suggested as much camping gear as you've weapons!" Kelvin happily replies, "I'm just tryin to make sure everyone's gonna be cozy like a trip to the campgrounds or adventure hike."

Kelvin patted the sullusten on the shoulder, "Although, when it comes to the nitty gritty, all we really would need is the barest basic of essentials: a knife, length of rope, and a canteen of water, and maybe a flask of Jet-juice. When it comes down to that and just the shirts on our backs or less, and it may seem like a week spent in the nine Corellian hells, you can still rest assured we'll make it through it alive..."

"So, maybe some of us can divvy up your extra gear, or we'll figure out somethin.... Or all you can choose to take is a knife, some rope and a flask. But yer gonna be makin yer own shelter should it rain... You do like rain, right?"

"Either way, short of the mission goin drastically fubar... Only choice we got is what we're packin with us. Personally, I'd rather take too much and groan about it rather than cursing about needing it and not having it!" Kelvin thumbed to himself, having spoke from experiance.

Kelvin chuckled at Vooko's response about the socks, "You're never gonna forget that one are ya? Neither will mom I dont think. 'Specially that time I thought I'd do everything in one load, poured in the ALL the detergents and some cleaner too. Colors were bleached, and whites were tie-dyed. Mom was real pleased, considering day after we had to load up and go back ship-board for the new racing circuit season... But wait! You shoulda seen what happened at camp, til today I don't think the Camp Trainers are ever gonna let that one sarge live it down... I got him but good!" Kelvin whistled in mischeivious doozie of a reverie with a slight shake of his head, drew a breath, made a face and cracked in laughter like a kwoikian monkey lizard. Inbetween breaths, "Picture this - He was a Gotal and it was day before the General's Visit. His entire laundry washed with 5 gallons of degreaser, then risned & tumbled dry with a few dozen paint balls! Sargeant Pink or Polkadot Sir! Best part was, he had won the game, he was caught with a skifter falling out of his sleeve as he reached for the chips, and I got off scott free!" It took a few moments to wear off, wiping the tears from his eyes...

Calming down a bit, still taking a few breaths, "Hmm, ok, I'll see what I can come up with for Wynn..." Back on the equipment datapad entries he added Wynn's list, so the entries looked like this:

Wynn Antiles: Blaster Pistol x1 Clothing - adventurer & hiker wear Utility Belt x1

Kelvin's Gear: Arrows (10) x3 Blaster [Sporting Rifle, Drearian Defense Conglomerate 'Light Sport'] Bow Credit Chip Grappling Spike Launcher Knife x2 Macrobinoculars Syntherope (20m length) [Degan Explorations] Utility Belt (Contains 3 days rations, 1x Medpac, 1x Tool kit, 1x Power pack, 1x Energy Cell, 1x Glow rod, 1x Comlink, Couple Empty Pouches),

Further thinking, he remembered two more vital items to add to the main list for each of the group members.

Survival Gear Rev 1.b: Per person: Aquata Breather x1 Breath Mask x1 Camouflage Poncho x1 Comlink x1 Distress Beacon [Saladar Systems PED-21] x1 Dura-Shelter [Adventure Hiker & Hunter] x1 Electrobinoculars x1 Energy Cell x5, Glow rod x3, Grappling Spike Launcher x1 Medpac x3, Ration Pack [Adventure Hiker & Hunter] x3, Syntherope (20m length) [Degan Explorations] x1 Water Jug Filter [SurvivalGear] x1 knife x1 multi-tool x1

The last two added entries were extremely important. With a bit of rope is all a person needed to survive.

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└ Please, just refer to me as TJR OR Terras. thx! (08/16/08)

[ post #49 ]

KOSS: But, dear sir, may I ask if it is your intention that we carry all this equipment with us at all times?

"Some of it will be necessary. A medpack on the ship does you no good if you're shot several klicks away. We need to pack around what will be the most necessary and/or useful. Unique items need to be spread out among us so that losing one person's gear isn't a disaster."

Thinking more about it, he starts listing things in his Datapad as he delivers the "lecture".

"Several changes of durable clothing...looking like an unfamiliar soldier is likely to gather more Official Attention than Just Another Local Yokel and Orange Flight Suits say 'Just Shoot Me Now'. Kelvin, can you round me up several meter squares of lightweight cloth suitable to make Wraps and/or bandages for just in case?

Food, or at least enough rations to get you there and back. We can't depend on the local wildlife - if we find any - being edible. Raiding local farms and such is going to have people demanding the Imps drop the hammer on us.

Some small amount of Imperial or Local Credits. Would be nice if we could buy a meal or a place to stay with Hard Cash, not looking like desperate drifters will help keep Security out of our faces...and packs.

Weaponry: We may not want to be packing more than a few or showing Gubmint-grade hardware. (indicating his pistol) With a little bit of propwork, I can make mine look like a Merr-Sonn Adventurer. An uncommon but not unusual blaster for a traveler or farmer, and only close inspection or someone very familiar with the Luxan Enforcer will tell the difference. A Stormtrooper Carbine is near-impossible to mistake for anything else. So we'll need to hide or conceal anything extraordinary to appear as Normal as reasonable.

For example, if I were some local merchant and I see a block of clearly marked Demolitions Explosive in your pack, I'm calling the Imps soon as you're safely away from me. Give it a rind, some false color & aroma, it's just a block of cheese unless someone eats a chunk or the detonator's shoved in it.

Some sort of shelter and bedroll, you Tough Guys can huddle under a blanket if you like, I prefer to put my energy into fighting the Empire not the Elements."

KOSS: Greetings, brave fighter pilots. I could not fail to notice that your ships are not of... stock configuration. First, let me commend you on your initiative, independence, and indefagitability in choosing to brave the hostile space lanes in... "experimental" craft... truly, you are beings after my own heart. Second, I wonder if you would be so kind as to review this brief list of essential parts, supplies, tools, and materials that I have compiled. It is my intention to keep a small but well-stocked starship repair facility on board the Maiden, and I should like to know if the components listed will serve adequately with your craft...

"I know an Engineer who knows how to get more out of things than the Factory does, and enjoys the challenge of an Elegant Solution. Both designs are nice and robust, but Demise or The Broken Starship is one of the Card-chips you can get.

(looking over the list) "Pretty comprehensive on a general basis, any sort of a Machine Shop on your ship in case we need to fabricate parts or an Improvisation? I think most of what's not currently present are Snub-specific like engine parts. We could probly get a Debris Extractor or two pretty easily, but the RV-3 is a bit more exotic. Main worry is what's likely to be easily broken if we get bounced around by a mine or two. Some heavy-duty Hi-temp Cloth or Foam would really help protect what's undrneath any necessary patchwork." To Wynn "You might wanna pass this by Razzle and see if it has any recommendations for you."

"It's fun for me not to pay this shark my hard earned credits or do his business and still waste the time. Were it one of you gents, I might think otherwise, but our friend here is quite the hand at games of chance, I'm afraid."

"If there's a Casino along the way, that may be useful, but not something to rely upon."

"Just becuase I happened to have a lucky streak doesn't mean I'm a pro. Granted, I've had plenty of time to brush up my rules, and it's pretty hard to pull off three consecutive Idiot's Arrays in a row without a skifter or three, doesn't make me a card shark, just very lucky," Remy said, shrugging as he said the last bit.

Studying Remy, and this new information "Surviving a Furball in an asteroid field intact is hard, that is near impossible. Sure you have any luck left?"

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Last edited by Vanger Chevane on 26 January 2006 at 09:05 PM

[ post #50 ]

OOC: Sorry, this isn't one of my great ones. But I think I covered most everything.

IC:

We don't have the time to research, let alone rig up looks or sensor profiles, but is there any way we can get & overlay legit Republic IFFs so only the Imp stuff will try to kill us?"

Wynn considered this important enough to pause in describing Doc Goldie to her brother. "Good idea. You'll have to put it in our requests. If they'd brought Razzle here, I'd just get him to find it for us. I guess they'll have to pack him with my snub--but just to make sure, someone add him to the equipment list. Don't want to risk Intel just grabbing the first R-series droid they see.

"Aside from what I already have in my Crash Kit and some of the feminine conveniences Zarya always insisted on, I'm pretty much at a loss right now. Can ya put together some suggestions I can go over in a bit?"

Well, so much for that idea, he's already taken. Wynn couldn't help asking curiously, "Who's Zarya?"

Casting a sly grin in Wynn's direction, Remy asks, "Are you sure you can't be convinced to share a few hands with us?"

He's one of those charmers, I see. Well, they can be fun for a girl to be around--when you're in the mood, but I'm not tonight. Maybe post-mission. Wynn shook her head, a polite smile on her lips. "Maybe some other time. This is the first time I've had to write & I really want it ready to be sent on to the Censors before we leave on this chase." She resumed writing.
A little later Wynn closed her letter, and added the request for her personal droid and 'fighter to the equipment datapad. She didn't have a separate for her personal items. Most of those were already stowed in the snub, except for the most precious ones, in terms of sentimentality even more than credits. Her personal jewelry as well as her sidearm were in Razzle's storage area. With her attention off the letter, Wynn noticed her hunger once more. She'd seen the looks passed between Kel and Vook. She didn't know their personal "code," so to speak, but she did recognize it for what it was. And the silent communication could pertain to obtaining edible midnight snacks, she guessed. [i]Kelvin can really put away food, and he is good at finding things from what he & Vooko have been saying. She goes to the 2 "semi-cousins." "Still interested in food? I am. So where do we get it, Kelvin?"

__________________
Duty.
Honor.
Good Looks.
Motto, Rouge Squadron, Rebel Legion

[ post #51 ]

Originally posted by Vanger Chevane "If there's a Casino along the way, that may be useful, but not something to rely upon." Studying Remy, and this new information "Surviving a Furball in an asteroid field intact is hard, that is near impossible. Sure you have any luck left?"

Remy just grinned. "What can I say? I live a charmed life. But don't worry, if it comes down to it, I've learned to make my own luck when the situation calls for it."

Originally posed by Ris "Still interested in food? I am. So where do we get it, Kelvin?"

"Well, I could suggest a really good Twi'lek take-out joint," Remy said, before adding in a non-chalant tone, "if the Empire hadn't flattened the place about a month ago. A real shame too, their main cook made some of the best Bantha ribs this side of Breental."

"On a side note, we may want to give some serious thought as to our cover story should the mission necessitate use interacting with the locals in a less-than hostile fashion. Saying we're tourists doesn't go as with Imperials these days as it used to. I asked for some false IDs, but given the time-table, they may not be able to cook up anything beyond the basics, if that."

__________________
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Last edited by Donovan Morningfire on 27 January 2006 at 10:04 PM

[ post #52 ]

"Yeah, I'll try Vook, at worst we can 'borrow' some of the local supplies if the station dosn't have any." Kelvin shrugged.

"Still interested in food? I am. So where do we get it, Kelvin?"

"Hmm, did any of them say we were quarentined here til morning or? Can we just stroll outa here and just not talk to anyone about the mission? I'd say we play the ol' 'sick routine' and bust outa here but that usually works better when those keeping us arn't on the same side... Anyone else have a reason to go for a walk? If not, then I guess we'll just have to ask and hope they allow us one last meal... As ironic as it sounds, don't it? Hopefully for some of us, it won't be our last meal."

"Well, I could suggest a really good Twi'lek take-out joint," Remy said, before adding in a non-chalant tone, "if the Empire hadn't flattened the place about a month ago. A real shame too, their main cook made some of the best Bantha ribs this side of Breental."

"Bummer, bet the place really was good. But hey! I'll bet ya never tasted anything better than Grams' H'larret's open pit roast nerf. Broiled over open flames, with her special blend of seasonins and glaze, the most decadent meal this side of the galaxy! Served outdoors, the ol' wooden bench tables, and a keg of Gramp H'larrret's ale. Forget the silverware, someone bring a guitaro, a feast to remember, enough food and drink for all of us. My mouth's just watering thinking about it, ain't yours Vook?"

"Well, if we need cover, how about we're prospective land buyers? scoutin' the area, for nerf ranchin'? or somethin?"

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Last edited by Terras Jadeonar & Raven on 31 January 2006 at 07:57 AM

[ post #53 ]

After the space of about an hour and a half, Madine and Dar'tann return, a worker droid with repulsorlift handtruck in tow. Everyone notices that the door they entered is no longer connected to a cramped hallway, but now a pristine white docking tube. Viewports in the sides show the exterior of the station: apparently, Intel was serious about keeping everyone quiet. As the droid deposited the platform, Madine spoke,

"Here is what we could fill of your order at the Quartermaster. After the Lieutenant and I leave your company, the Eripsa will depart for Chalmyron. Tommorow morning, standard time, you'll drop out of hyperspace a short jump from Chalmyron. Yes, you're aloready aboard. The Maiden and the two fighters were loaded via tractor beam during the briefing. Good luck and may the Force be with you."

At this, Miykus' face, which had been carved from stone, finally broke a tiny bit, showing worry steeped in tension, and not completely well. Suddenly she picked up her head and said,

"Excuse me, I'm feeling faint. Colonel, I trust you can conclude this last phase of the briefing, I need to get some air."

At a nod from Madine, Miykus strides quickly back into the tube without a backward glance.

With the facial expression equivalent of a shrug, Madine finishes,

"I'll address any last questions and collect any letters you've written and instructions for their sending, then you'll leave for Chalmyron. and I do suggest you get some sleep."

OOC:

In addition to personal belongings (on your character stat equipment lists), each character receives the following, in a rugged brown and green pack:

Aquata Breather x1
Breath Mask x1
Atmosphere Canister/Filter x5
Camouflage Poncho x1
Comlink x1
Sleeping Unit (resembles a sleeping bag on steroids, w/ a fully sealable sleeping chamber that connects to a breath mask as well as heating/cooling controls) x1
Electrobinoculars x1
Energy Cell x5
Glow rod x1
Grappling Spike Launcher x1
Medpac x3,
Ration Pack [Adventure Hiker & Hunter] x5
Syntherope (20m length) x1
Water Jug Filter [SurvivalGear] x1
knife x1
multi-tool x1
Empty Utility belt (attach to it whatever you like) x1

Also, the group as a whole receives:

Blaster Pistols (6)
Blaster Rifles (6)
Power Pack (18)
Grenade, Frag (12)
Grenade, Stun (6)
Medical Kit (2)
Comlink (Military-grade headset) (4)

EDIT: Also add one (1) Aratech "Jumper" Rocket Pack, with a tag attached that reads, 'be safe, have fun', and signed by the QM. Has one fuel cell.

__________________
W.W.G.D. - What would Grimace do?

What kind of dust?
Dirt-laced dust. Probably originating from the ground.

Last edited by coldskier0320 on 8 February 2006 at 01:25 AM

[ post #54 ]

Kelvin made a surprised face when Madine and Miykus entered with a worker droid in tow. Part from the loaded sled, part from what was behind them - wasn't the same place they entered this room from...

Miykus' face was a bit of curiosity, from stone face to something else, then excusing herself abruptly. Kelvin found it most curios as it gave him a sinking feeling about something he said was right, and filed it for later.

At Madine's request, Kelvin promptly handed over his datapad which contained the written letter home.

Though he didn't have any questions to ask- oh wait! food! "Uh sir? Would it be too much to ask to get some evening snaks or light lunch? I, Wynn, maybe couple others are kinda hungry. Its not like we can just head over to the mess hall sometime while inflight from here to there? I and ration packs seriously don't get along..."

"If I may ask, there anything wrong with the lady? The look on her face and me asking for snaks almost makes it feel you'd be handing our last meals, y'know?"

Glancing at the sled, he spots his bag & belongings, releived... He waits for Madine to leave before grabbing his stuff - slinging bag over one shoulder, bow & rifle over teh other.

"Woohoo! My lucky draws! this mission can't be all that bad." Spotting the jetpack, the tag catches his eye. Kelvin bends down and reads it, then quips out loud - "Hey Koss! I think they brought ya the wrong jetpack! Theres a tag on here that reads be safe, have fun signed by the quartermaster. Arn't the tags supposed to be for yer service number to i.d ya by? And this thing's also lacking a shiny red button on the back of it!" Kelvin cracked a grin on his face in good jest as he carried his gear, nodding Wynn over to the bunk. Kelvin was surprised Vook still hadn't told her yet... Kelvin figured he might as well...

"Maybe its a good thing we didn't try for the messhall, or we may have been going for a vac walk, and without the floatsuits" Kelvin commented with a hopeful shrug, until Wynn was close by.

__________________
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├ RPG Info: Signature #46: My Repertoire of RPGs (Updated: 09/09/2006)
└ Please, just refer to me as TJR OR Terras. thx! (08/16/08)

Last edited by Terras Jadeonar & Raven on 8 February 2006 at 09:08 AM

[ post #55 ]

Wynn, who had stood up when the 2 officers entered, observed Dar'tann. The Aldaraan pilot observed the woman's reactions, but carefully concealed her opinion of them. They made her suspicious, and just the slightest bit comtemptuous. No, Dar'tann's not the least bit like my mother. And that's not here nor nor there--pay attention to Madine now that she's gone & then talk it over later with Vooko--& Radegant. There's more in that happy-go-lucky brain than some people might think.

"If I may ask, there anything wrong with the lady? The look on her face and me asking for snaks almost makes it feel you'd be handing our last meals, y'know?"

Kelvin's way of adressing the colonel confirmed Wynn's assessment of him. With her features schooled into slight shock at the hunter's over-casual manner of speaking to their superior, Wynn could intently watch Madine as he replied.

Madine finishes, "I'll address any last questions and collect any letters you've written and instructions for their sending, then you'll leave for Chalmyron. and I do suggest you get some sleep."

Wynn bends down to pick up the datapad from her bunk, and takes it to Madine. "There are 3 letters here. A quick note to Dr. Dy'nar and a letter for my old CO Capt. Guay Tel. Also one to my borther, 2nd Lt. Lord Trevor Antilles," she murmured for Madine's ears only. Wynn looked up at the colonel, a pleasant smile on her face, waiting to see any reaction to the subtle reminder of who she was.

Once Madine departed, Wynn grabbed a pack and took it off to one side to check the contents. She cast a wistful eye over at Vooko, recalling the embrace she'd gotten him into so they could discuss their concerns about Eden Base. She'd thought it would be a pleasant way to handle it, but hadn't expected her strong reaction to her new wingman. Forget it! Plenty of other cute guys in the galaxy, several of whom are conveniently located right here. Including the "semi-cuz," if he wants to get over Tia...

"Maybe its a good thing we didn't try for the messhall, or we may have been going for a vac walk, and without the floatsuits" Kelvin commented with a hopeful shrug, until Wynn was close by.

Looking up from the items on her bunk, she notices Kel. "Thanks for speaking up for my poor stomach." She indicates the bow. I wish I knew how to use one," she beings, then pauses, noting that Kel seems to haave been waiting for her. "What's on your mind, Kelvin?"
Maybe I'll get his take on our bosses, now.

__________________
Duty.
Honor.
Good Looks.
Motto, Rouge Squadron, Rebel Legion

[ post #56 ]

"Uh sir? Would it be too much to ask to get some evening snaks or light lunch? I, Wynn, maybe couple others are kinda hungry. Its not like we can just head over to the mess hall sometime while inflight from here to there? I and ration packs seriously don't get along..."

"Absolutely", Madine smiles politely, "I'll have the mess prepare you all a small meal, i believe the mess is serving traladon and tubers in gravy, I'll have them send some out."

"If I may ask, there anything wrong with the lady? The look on her face and me asking for snaks almost makes it feel you'd be handing our last meals, y'know?"

"This operation and the one it's been sent to remedy have greatly taxed Lt. Dar'tann's inner reserves. She's very stressed about the whole situation, as we all are."

Wynn bends down to pick up the datapad from her bunk, and takes it to Madine. "There are 3 letters here. A quick note to Dr. Dy'nar and a letter for my old CO Capt. Guay Tel. Also one to my borther, 2nd Lt. Lord Trevor Antilles," she murmured for Madine's ears only. Wynn looked up at the colonel, a pleasant smile on her face, waiting to see any reaction to the subtle reminder of who she was.

"Understood", Madine nods gravely, "They'll be censored by this time tommorow, with the rest of the outgoing transmissions, and bundled with the information packets we send to High Command each week...figure on final arrival in about three to four days." Though he undoubtedly knows who Wynn is, he's too much of a professional to giver her any obvious preferential treatment over anyone else.

With that, Madine collects all of the other letters and leaves, heading back through the docking tube.

...

About twenty minutes later, the door again swishes open, this time, revealing a protocol droid with a reuplsor-tray. On the tray sat a large sealed bowl and six plates and utensil kits: dinner.

"You can leave all of your dishes and any leftover food in the compartment over there", the droid motions to a small compartment on the opposite side of the room, "I do hope you find the food satisfactory."

The droid ambles back down the tube and then you are alone.

Next Stop: Chalmyron.

[OOC: Feel free to RP as much as you like for the trip, let me know OOC when you're ready to move on. Also, if anyone else has anything to say to Madine, just post it here and I'll edit this post to reflect. I'd just like to get moving.]

__________________
W.W.G.D. - What would Grimace do?

What kind of dust?
Dirt-laced dust. Probably originating from the ground.

[ post #57 ]

Kell checks through the equipment and makes a note of it so that he can practice packing up his pack to determine the best distrabution of weight, and also makes notes as to the team's firepower multipliers.
Disappointed the QM didn't have a grenade launcher in stock, Kell is at least somewhat consoled by the extra ordinance.
At least we'll have a chance... unless Intel is wrong like they always are... he thought with a sigh.
He then notices the jetpack, and the accompanying note... and shudders at the thought of Koss zipping above the battlefield, screaming old holoserial theme music at the top of his lungs and dropping grenades on unfortunate groundbased personnel.
Typical QM office- don't have anything useful, but damned if they don't have the idiot toy that'll get us all killed... he thought to himself, praying that the pack's engine stays cool for the entire experiance... but deep with in his mind doubting it.

"Absolutely", Madine smiles politely, "I'll have the mess prepare you all a small meal, i believe the mess is serving traladon and tubers in gravy, I'll have them send some out."

"Sounds just lovely- " Kell muttered, adding his check to the mess list.

__________________
I desire what is good. Therefore, everyone who does not agree with me is a traitor-- King George III
"The ability to quote is a serviceable substitute for wit." -- W. Somerset Maugham
Check out Run to the Rim (NEW! Updated 1/24/08!)
and
Old Friends, New Republic (Updated 12/27/07)

[ post #58 ]

"I'll address any last questions and collect any letters you've written and instructions for their sending, then you'll leave for Chalmyron. and I do suggest you get some sleep."

"Republic IFFs, Decoys, EW or sensor gear would help gets us through to Dirtside, especially a matched hardpoint-pair EW and STAG set. (Checking one of the packs) Some clothes in the local average fashion are a necessity, local money and IDs would be good." He hesitates for a moment, then continues "Last I'd heard, the Imps are still painting their practice targets Flight Suit Orange..."

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First Law of GMing: Semper Gumby

Show me someone who has never said "It's good to be Evil", I'll show you someone who's never GM'd.

[ post #59 ]

"Absolutely", Madine smiles politely, "I'll have the mess prepare you all a small meal, i believe the mess is serving traladon and tubers in gravy, I'll have them send some out."

Wynn smiled, "Thank you sir, that will be wonderful, I'm sure. What's for dessert?"

After her wingman asks about IFF's and lcoal itmes, Wynn recalls something else. "I trust R2-Z11e was brought over along with my personal snubfighter?"

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Duty.
Honor.
Good Looks.
Motto, Rouge Squadron, Rebel Legion

[ post #60 ]

Looking up from the items on her bunk, she notices Kel. "Thanks for speaking up for my poor stomach." She indicates the bow. I wish I knew how to use one," she beings, then pauses, noting that Kel seems to haave been waiting for her. "What's on your mind, Kelvin?"

Kelvin shrugged "No problem. Nothing worse than an empty stomach while traveling, really makes the flight seem that much longer than it is."

Wynn indicated his bow, "Knife and bow are the most basic and primitive tools and weapons ever made. They still have their uses, and not too hard to use either."

Leaning against the bunk. "Your probably wondering who's Zarya. She's Vooko's younger twin. I'm surprised that Vooko didn't mention her already. Can't really blame him I suppose, not like I 've said anything about her to anyone either. I'd just about forgotten about her, been kept busy from camp til' now. Hopefully she stayed home where its about as safe as it'll ever get while the war's still on..."

"Did you catch the look on Dar'tann's face and brisk exit? I gotta wonder what that's all about. "

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