Galactic Adventures (SciFi/Char/Mechanics/Captains/IC)

by **Tysklandia** » Thu Apr 23, 2020 9:51 am

The National Dominion of Hungary wrote:

Derek Waudman

They had cast the bait, now it was time to wait, see if any greedy little fish came to feed. Indeed they did, they always did sooner or later. Derek felt his hand-terminal vibrate in his pocket, when he took it out he saw a new message from Sagar Bramfar, an Ulthar businessman with his fingers in pies across half the station and in several of the surrounding clusters. Well-spoken, rich, always impeccably dressed and utterly ruthless to those who stood in the way of his ambitions. He was secretive about his past, some said that he was the son of a prostitute back in Combine space where he gathered enough wealth through petty criminality to smuggle himself out into the Outer Rim to start a new life. Others said he was an orphan from the Ulthar homeworld of Kharrash, no parents, no masters, but also no roof over his head and often no dinner. No matter, he had contracted them for small odd jobs every now and then often alongside other mercenary units and he always kept his word in a deal. Derek scrolled through the message, it seems like Bramfar needed to get his hands on data from an old facility where scientific experiments of some kind had been going on, then destroy the place. They were to go to the planet of Bakkan in the Nebean Expanse cluster, coordinates to the abandoned facility were to be provided upon accepting the contract, there was a good sum waiting in payment for them should they accept, 800 credits all in all. Enough to get some better equipment and perhaps hire of few more crew-members who didn't mind mercenary work when they return to port. Before accepting however, Derek did some research on the planet in question. The Nebean Expanse was a small cluster of five systems relatively close to the Inner Rim, Bakkan was the only naturally habitable world for nitrogen-oxygen breathing life in the whole cluster. The jungle-planet was overrun by choking plant hypergrowth caused by the introduction of industrially-mutated plant species in a failed colonization attempt around 400 years ago. This, combined with its relative isolation and lack of population, has made Bakkan an occasional base of operations for drug-runners, weapons-smugglers, pirates, mercenaries, terrorists, and Coreward Power intelligence agents seeking secrecy. Sustained habitation on Bakkan is extremely difficult, where mutant and even poisonous plant-life can overgrow colonies in days instead of years. Home to dangerous plant and animal life, the trip might be harder than the contracts on the station that they had lived on so far. However, there was more than just the facility, maybe they could try and search one of the abandoned colonies for valuables? Perhaps they could swipe supplies and credits from some hidden smuggler's base? Perhaps Bakkan would be the first step on Derek's road to fame and fortune?

Noctis Station - Docking berths -
Trusty Sandy

Sagar had always treated him fairly and giving a fresh outfit like hiss an opportunity like he had was some show of faith, a sliver of legitimacy... A show of faith without any real risks attached for Bramfar, to be honest. If he kicked the bucket and never came back, all the Ulthar had to do was send another team, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Derek snickered at those thoughts as he sat in the Sandy's cockpit, pre-calculating the jump-routes that would take them to the Nebean expanse. His boy's were double checking the Sandy's engines and fuel-supply, without him even asking them too. They were all invested in the Sandy's maiden voyage and the amount of money, time and risk they had put into this one opportunity made this run to Bakkan a make it or break it type of situation. As the Navigation computer ran through it's simulations, his terminal, laying on the dashboard, half-forgotten began to beep again, another message from Sagar.
Derek had always attempted to maintain an atmosphere of professionalism, it didn't do well to piss off anyone on a station full of criminals and killers. A smart man didn't mix pleasure with business on Noctis Station and Derek didn't plan on breaking the rule.

His reply was short and clear to the point. They had accepted his deal and would leave for the Nebean expanse within the Hour. Another message popped in soon after, one of his boys had returned from the trade district, having found what he had been asked to retrieve.
Another swipe on his Terminal pulled back the information of Barran, such a rotten hive never had much up to date information... But Derek always enjoyed a more... Distant form of problem solving. The Mark 7 back in his cabin had ensured most of the hits he had the past had been clean and from a distance that gave him enough time to get out without being made. But trudging through this Mutating jungle, to get some distance on the facility didn't seem like a good idea... Room-clearing, especially in some god forsaken hell-hole was always best done with a weapon that was more... Liberal with it's projection of force.

With a dull beep, the Nav-computer shook Derek from his musings, the route to Bakkan orbit pre-calculated. Even with the location of the facility at hand, He hadn't lived this long by himself by being careless... It seemed best to approach Bakkan carefully, staying out of sight and out of mind of people who rather not be disturbed. If he could approach Bakkan without getting into trouble with any of the other groups that likely called the place home, the job would become a lot easier... Taking a bit of time to do some quick scans of the surface to identify some secondary targets of interest couldn't do a lot of harm either he supposed... If Sagar's Job went off without a hitch, they might have some room left in the hold to ruin someone else his day...

by **Gudmund** » Sat Apr 25, 2020 11:53 pm

The National Dominion of Hungary wrote:
Katar Ann

Breathe in, and breathe out. Focus on that distant, rhythmic, almost ringing sound that she had taught him to home in on when reaching into the Beyond. Under Celena's guidance Katar had learned so much, she was a harsh taskmistress, harsh but not unfair, what she did she had done for them. The Galaxy was often merciless to psionics who were not under the protection of any Coreward Power's national banner. They were adrift in a galaxy that sometimes reacted with fear to them or more often sought to harness their power for their own goals, especially out here in the Outer Rim. Warlords, Grand Captains of Pirate Armadas, ruthlessly ambitious Colony-states. They all saw Katar and people like him as pawns they could use to make their grand ambitions come one step closer. The planet of Rakodan slowly vanished behind him and he vanished, well, somewhere else, in one last conscious moment he had the autopilot put him into stable orbit around a deep blue ice giant. Then we was gone, yet not gone. He opened his eyes and saw... a tower? A tower laying in gray haze, suspended in mid-air. Of course, there was no such thing as air, no such thing as flight here, not really. He looked around, nothing, nothing but the tower and the endless mist. He floated through the nothingness, reaching out and suddenly finding himself pulled hastily toward the tower, no sound, no wind in his face, nothing. Just a silent glide through the mists, silent with the exception of the thrumming noise in the background, his guide-star. His speed slowed as he approached, the tower was tall and square with a tiled roof, it seemed strangely familiar. It was also broken, gaping holes in it's walls, loose bricks and scraps of plaster floating silently around it. As he slowly drifted into the tower, he could see paintings of his memories on the walls, his parents, his home, his captors, his savior. Yes, he recognized the tower now, it was the old tower that he could see in the distance from the window of his room back on his homeworld when he was a child. Pain welled up inside him, pain and rage. They Paracasual responded in kind, the mists outside turned crimson, he saw flashes, memories of his capture. He knew the Beyond could play these tricks so he focused on his berth, steadied himself. Floating gently upward through a hole in the wooden floor, Katar found himself looking at a candle-lit table with a book. Gliding silently forward he took the leather-bound tome in his hands and opened it. To his surprise we found blank pages, blank save for a sequence of numbers written in fine calligraphy on each one. A few months ago he wouldn't have recognized any of this but with the training Celena had just given him in his lessons in space-flight and how to pilot this ship. He recognized the numbers, they were coordinates to the nav-computer. He had some perusing of the on-board starmap to do it seemed...

Orbiting Rakodan

Gasping for air, Katar was pulled from his vision, immediately punching in the coordinates before they could drift from his mind. The onboard star-map was fiddly to maneuver, but he found where the numbers lead soon enough, and boy was he surprised. According to the ship logs, his Pinnace ship had been here before. Jolting into action, Katar sped towards this unknown location, theories of what it could be circulating through his head. It wasn't long before he arrived, a large asteroid field occupying the otherwise empty pocket of space, and that's when he saw it. The same ship his parent's murderers had used, though noticeably more battered and old. Without receiving any maintenance for almost six years, it came as no surprise. The harshness of space had removed most of the outer paint, and he could plainly see most of the windows had broken.

Activating his ship's floodlights, Katar gently floated closer with the aid of RCS thrusters, scanning through the broken portions of the smugglers ship. He saw the emaciated corpses of its former crew, completely unrecognizable from what Katar remembered of them, and the distinct signs of Celena's fight throughout many rooms and hallways. Pulling up a schematic of the old ship, Katar made his way over to the armory. When asked, Celena claimed she returned and looted the ship once before, but admittedly lacked enough storage space to take everything in one trip. She deemed the vessel too much of a hassle to repair or sell, and must have hidden the craft here to prevent future criminals from using it. Katar wished he could venture inside and explore, but unfortunately, he didn't have the right equipment for a lengthy spacewalk.

"If only I could grab at them from afar-," Jacob muttered, immediately squinting at his words. Katar then focused on a barrel floating aimlessly within the ship. Extending a hand, with a flick of his wrist it came barrelling towards him. Thankfully, in this weightless environment, even the slightest nudge could work to his favour. Katar also recalled how the, currently very empty, smugglers compartment could be accessed from outside. Returning his focus to the armory, Katar remembered the time Celena slapped a gun out of his hand, stating such weapons were nothing compared to psionic powers. It was reasonable to believe the armory still held a number of guns, or at least whatever weapons Celena had deemed worthless. Moving a fair distance away from the freighter, Katar pondered how exactly he'd get it open, his finger hovering over the trigger of the Pinnace's heavy chain-gun.

"Not like I have anything better to do." Katar mused, clamping down on the trigger.

Action: Fire at the shipwrecked freighter's armory section, and attempt to open its side to see what items remain, then preferably use psychokinesis to pull some items into the smugglers compartment.

by **The Empire of Tau** » Wed Apr 29, 2020 11:29 pm

Merchant Man, Sam
Action is Coming

"You see that? Right? I don't think that ship wants to say a friendly hello to us." Sam voices over shared-comms.

"I got a shit-ton of high-cost cargo on my ship, and I don't want any of it to be stolen or lost in space." Sam worries, still on the shared-comms.

"You know what to do, Kyr. I'll stay behind and close. My ship will try to jam that fucker's sensor systems. Fuck up this pirate, will you?"

by **Ralnis** » Thu Apr 30, 2020 4:34 am

The Empire of Tau wrote:
Merchant Man, Sam
Action is Coming

"You see that? Right? I don't think that ship wants to say a friendly hello to us." Sam voices over shared-comms.

"I got a shit-ton of high-cost cargo on my ship, and I don't want any of it to be stolen or lost in space." Sam worries, still on the shared-comms.

"You know what to do, Kyr. I'll stay behind and close. My ship will try to jam that fucker's sensor systems. Fuck up this pirate, will you?"

Kyr merely nodded as she got her ship to go on red alert as the claxons were raised as the Battered Fly had started to go red hot to meet this new foe.

Action: Kyr's ship engages the pirate ship, launching a barrage of missiles at them.

by **Sao Nova Europa** » Sat May 02, 2020 1:15 pm

Port Dusk

"Are you sure we can't stay some more?" Lucius groaned. "We've been only a few hours at Port Dusk. After that, goodbye civilization. We will be going deep into unknown space."

"Well," Jaim replied, "that is the whole point of this mission. We don't have time to lose. We've already bought all the necessary weapons back on Sathas, so there is no point in wasting any more time here. Let us get going."

Lucious sighed and headed along with Jaim back to the Defiant.

Defiant

"Captain on the bridge!" Darren announced as Jaim took his seat.

"Darren," Jaim said, "are tactical battle plans ready?"

"Yes, sir. I've created over ten different battle scenarios we can utilize in case the Ranghorn do attack us. On ground combat, in case the Defiant gets boarded, my plans rely on guerrilla-style attacks and utilization in the full of our knowledge of the ship's structure. On space combat, I have prioritized speedy maneuvers. I have also come up with three plans on withdrawing, in case we need a speedy retreat."

"Good. Mr. Garcia, set course for the Orphean Stars."

"Aye sir!" the professor exclaimed as he set the coordinates. "It should take more than a few days before we reach them though."

"Which is why we should hurry!" Jaim pressed a button, activating his communications with the engine room. "Mr. Yang, is the engine ready?"

"Ye- yes, sir!" Yang rushed to reply. He had been chatting with Nick when Jaim called him and was surprised to hear the captain. His face had become ashen white and he almost had a heart attack upon suddenly hearing Jaim's voice calling for him. "The ship is ready for takeoff."

"Good! Keep up the good work Mr. Yang and please do not get so frightened. I am not some kind of monster or tyrant." Jaim terminated communications with the engine room and instead focused his attention to Tom. "Mr. Tom, please take us to the Orphean Stars."

"With pleasure," Tom replied with a smug grin on his face. "We are making history. Years later, history books will write that Tom Andreas navigated the Defiant through the most dangerous, unexplored regions of space."

"Yeah, yeah. You will become an idol. Why don't you now focus on your job?"

"I can do both," Tom chuckled.

The Defiant took off, the loud sound of its engines echoing all over Port Dusk's docking decks. What lay ahead, no one knew. The only thing certain was that the Defiant was taking a huge leap to the unknown, traveling to a region of space where very few had managed to go before. Ahead lay adventure, danger and the chance to make history!

by **The National Dominion of Hungary** » Sun May 03, 2020 10:09 am

Derek Waudman

Scheduling a quick meeting with his preferred arms dealer, Derek's men went ahead and purchased a shotgun. Indeed, abandoned laboratories with tight, dark corridors. Hidden pirate landing pads and jungles inhabited by vicious carnivores. It was only wise to bring weapons that packed a great amount of stopping power for close quarters combat. Liberal application of force indeed. The mercenaries made sure to take stock on supplies, fuel pellets and the other things they needed for the trip to the Nebean Expanse and back to Port Noctis. Derek didn't even have to bark orders and oversee the work, the men seemed even more enthusiastic than their captain about Trusty Sandy's maiden voyage into the vast expanse of nothingness. Every system was checked, then checked again, especially life-support, the fuel lines, comms, LADAR and RADAR, Heat and EM sensors, and other systems critical to their survival. After their preparations were finished the captain finally gave the order for his crew to present themselves at their stations. There was only six of them, Derek included but enough to pilot the Sandy, admittedly with a skeleton crew, Derek caught himself thinking it would be wise to invest some of their funds into a few more warm bodies to work the ship and hold the guns when the shooting starts. In his line of work it always did, sooner or later... "Dusk control, this is the Sailing Starship Trusty Sandy, requiring release and decompression, please forward exit coordinates." A sense of steely determination and confidence welled up inside him. He was not just a hired gun, making ends meet on the station often called the Heart of the Rim. This contract validated all the hard work, the creds, the sweat, the blood spilled to get this ship in working order once more. The captain of a warship for hire and it's mercenary crew, however small small the ship and crew was still an achievement. Now, fortune awaits among the stars. Following the exit vector provided by the station's traffic control, Derek's ship soon left the system and embarked on a steady voyage through system after system, jumping from cluster to cluster through the Warp Gate network. The closer they got, the less ships they picked up on their scopes, mostly small trader vessels hauling cargo and passengers across the rim. The occasional rusty patrol ship of some local warlord state or independent system. One last gate jump and they were in the Nebean Expanse. A distant cluster with only one world naturally habitable for nitrogen-oxygen breathing life, which included the vast majority of civilized sentient species in the galaxy. They only had one last FTL-cruise and soon, after arriving at their destination, Captain Waudman stood at the window of his small captain's cabin, looking out at the blue-green ball spinning out there in the blackness. Carefully scanning the system they picked up an engine signature near one of the planet's two small moons. A small ship, could of course be deadly but it seemed more interested an flying to whatever it's destination was, a smuggler perhaps? Fearing Derek was a pirate? Derek directed the scanners down toward the planet and with the coordinates given to him by Bramfar it didn't take long to zero in on the abandoned laboratory, a relatively large facility for a backwater Outer Rim world where it could be kept out of sight and mind. The scanners detected a small, weak heat signature next to it, a vehicle perhaps. On the captains order, the crew scanned the immediate surroundings as well, there was an old ruined colony not too far away, well within rover distance... perhaps there were scavengers skulking around the area?

Katar Ann

The wreckage drifted silently out the dark void, illuminated by the floodlights of Katar's ship. Locking eyes with an emaciated corpse through the broken windows, a human male, frozen mustache gleaming with frost. Katar spared no sympathy for the corpse or any of it's ilk still floating in the torn vessel lost in the depths of an unmapped, barely marked asteroid field at the edge of the system. They deserved every bit of the treatment Celena gave them as she stormed through the ship, bending reality to her will and putting an end to another band of slavers in this galaxy. For all Katar cared they could drift here until the end of time, scum like those would not be missed. Thinking for a while on how to best try and salvage something from a wreckage without a space suit, Katar made the decision to use the reality altering powers honed under Celena's tutelage after experimenting with a metallic gas-barrel floating about within the exposed belly of the vessel, taking hold of it through a telekinetic incant. The young Ellirean soon piloted to the starboard side of the vessel guided by a holographic blueprint pulled up on his ship's main HUD with a deft hand on the control panel as he fired the RCS thrusters in precise bursts. He soon found his small ship steadied in the void by the armory of the slaver's freighter. Letting out a burst of tungsten-molybdenum permalloy, he saw them soundlessly strike the dilapidated hull of the freighter and rip shreds of metal from the superstructure, sending them hurtling out into the blackness of space in a eerily silent dance of destruction which lay bare Katar's prize to the void. Eyes turned toward on of the holopanels of the ship's cockpit, Katar zoomed his sensors toward the newest hole blasted into the freighter, the armory was half empty and many of the remaining gun-racks had frozen solidly to the walls in the extreme cold of space. However, there seemed like there were two wall-mounted crates that could be pried loose. Katar opened the external door of the pinnace's small airlock and proceeded to lean back in the pilot's chair, taking a few deep breath and zeroing his consciousness in on the rhythmic, ringing sound thrumming along in the back of his head. His link to the world beyond worlds, to the everything and the nothing which everywhere and nowhere, everlasting and ever changing. As his consciousness slipped further and further into the beyond, he tried to focus on those crates in the ruined freighters armory, keeping their signature strong in his mind. He reached out his hands, and then pulled them back slowly, as if beckoning the objects of his focus back to him. Opening his eyes with his mind between realities, he could see the crates gently float toward his as he watched them against a backdrop of swirling colors and strange manifestations of the Paracasual. Guiding the two crates with gentle, flowing motions with his hands, they finally gently thumped against the walls of the airlock. Katar closed his eyes and focused on the ringing while clenching his fist and teeth to return to the casual plane. Quickly closing the airlock's outer doors he made his way over to inspect his catch. The crate's weren't too large so he had no trouble lifting them to the small table near his sleeping cot. It took some force and tools to get them open but when he did, we was glad to find four Foehammer laser pistols in one and in the other, mostly small bits and bobs, however someone had stored a credit chip there as well with 40 credits which were added to his name.

Skill check: 88 - Large Success
Gain - 4 Mod-5 Foehammer pistols / 40 Credits

Kyr Mirhorn Van & Samuel Bridge Iron

"You heard your chieftess, all ahead full!" Talou shouted out on the intercom to the engine room, getting a muffled "Aye-aye" in reply from the engineering deck. The Battered Fly's engines blasted off with a pale white light as opposed to the dark blue light of the exhaust when at cruising speed. The Fly darted off into the void to get within missile range while Sam ordered his pilot to keep the freighter within the shadow of the dunkidor cutter as it sped off to engage. "Jam the fuckers out, let's give our mercs the upper hand!" Samuel commanded and a crewman on the bridge replied immediately, trying to establish a secure connection with the pirate ships´ sensors to flood them with garbage data, first trying to home in on their signal. "Shit..." Sam's crewmate exclaimed. "I've got another engine signature, it was hidden in their drive distortion!" Two hostile gunboats were not barreling toward the cutter and the small freighter. With a bit of good maneuvering. luck and enemy incompetence, there had a pretty good chance of getting out alive on the other end of this. Sam's ship kept it's sensors on the enemy while trying to jam out the lead vessel. The scans were being forwarded in real time to the Fly to help Kyr see what she was up against and plan accordingly. The lead vessel was slightly larger, K'Dah-Class from the looks of it with a maximum crew of 20 and two turreted railguns as her primary armament, as the second ship was still partially hiding in the K'Dah's sensor shadow, they still didn't have all too many accurate readings on it. An alarm blared loudly aboard the Battered Fly, signalling that they had come within missile range. Kyr gave the order to fire in a booming tone and the Fly's missile launchers let loose their deadly content into the void, dumping out eight small missiles which promptly fired up their RCS-thrusters and blasted of toward the pirate ship at massive speed. Kyr and Talou followed the blips on a holographic display as the closed with the large red blotch that was the lead pirate ship. As they got within five kilometers of the target, the pirates opened fire on the incoming missiles with their point-defense guns, scanning the ship, the dunkidor counted four of them. Sam's ship had been trying to flood their targeting systems with bogus data, but the pirates seemed to have a semi-decent firewall on the system. Letting out a hail of fire, three missiles were shot down, four impacted the enemy's energy shield and one got through, impacting the hull on the rear of the ship, a cheer went up on both the mercenary cutter and Sam's freighters. The lead pirate ship tried to turn but it moved sluggishly. Kyr ordered an immediate high-intensity scan and it seemed the missile impact had knocked out one of their main engine exhausts and a number of thrusters, lucky hit. The lead pirate vessel would have a hard time maneuvering and turning, but the turreted railguns could still prove a threat if the Fly got too close. Kyr immediately gave the order to reload the missile bays as she could see the other pirate ship burn it's engines hot, "lunging" forward at them. Sam turned his scanners on it, damn. It was a Cobrus-Class, deadly at close range with their two nose-mounted plasma lances which could strip the shields and armor of the Fly and Sam's freighter alike with a few half-decent hits. Best bet, take them out before they're in range to use their plasma weapons, problem is, missiles take a long time to reload...

Skill-check: 55 - Moderate Success.
Skill-check: 74 - Large Success.

Jaim H. Johnson

One jump away from Port Dusk's home cluster, one trip through it's Warp-Gate and there they were. Darkspace. It looked like any other part of the Galaxy at first glance, yet it was wholly different, gone were the comforts of civilization, now many, many light-years behind them. Finding themselves in one of the gateway clusters nearest to the Outer Rim, a momentary sense of dread washed over the crew, fear, primal fear of the unknown given frightening form by half-true legends told in the spacer's cantinas and on the galactic nets. As they slowly cruised through the system to another Warp-Gate orbiting a large ammonia-methane ice giant creeping about on the other end of the star-system they picked up an engine signature. A ship was coming, at cruising speed. After scanning the drive-signature Jaim brought up the corresponding ship-class on one of the screen at his captain's station on the bridge. A Tenebrae-Class Carrack, popular among more well-off and experienced explorers around the galaxy. Exchanging customary greetings as they warily passed by, Jaim could see the scarring of... well, what he presumed to be battle damages on the side of the passing ship, another explorer, this one returning back to the light of civilization. Good luck out there. One final message before they cut the comm-link. Jaim watched as the Warp Gate silently crackled to greet them, floating in orbit around the vast planet. One last jump, and the dim light cast by the suns of the Orphean Stars greeted them. They found themselves in a system of four planets, none of which was naturally habitable to most sentient life in the known galaxy. For the automated cursory scan of the system made on arrival, Jaim watched the holographic starmap of the local system materialize over him. They orbited the outermost world which had the cluster's warp-gate in fixed L2 orbit. Below them was a rocky world with a nitrogen-hydrogen atmosphere wracked with storms raging over a lifeless landscape of jagged rocky cliffs. Further in was another rock planet with a trace atmosphere of krypton and argon, it had a ring system with a number of small moons, possibly a candidate for a more through mineral-scan. Further along toward the standard yellow-dwarf star of the system is a rock planet with expansive frozen oceans. Though it is within the temperature and pressure range for habitation by many sentient species including humans, its thick atmosphere is largely carbon dioxide and monoxide, making breath masks or environmental suits mandatory. A closer look might be warranted. The planet closest to the sun had a punishing atmosphere, its temperature boiling at over 700 degrees Celsius. Carbon monoxide and methane wrap the planet in an unyielding haze but a deep-scan might yield more information. The cluster itself had six star systems in total within FTL range according to the Defiant's astrographic system with the potential of a dormant Warp-Gate waiting to be activated, only that would be a significant discovery, a possible pathway deeper into Darkspace. As Captain Johnson deliberated their next move, he heard Lucius´voice call out. "Captain! Come take a look." Jaim hurried over to the comm station which Lucius manned and looked, there was a repeating hi-frequency signal coming from one of the other systems of the cluster, repeating on a steady cadence, like a distress beacon, or a trap...

by **Tysklandia** » Mon May 04, 2020 12:08 am

The National Dominion of Hungary wrote:

Derek Waudman

Scheduling a quick meeting with his preferred arms dealer, Derek's men went ahead and purchased a shotgun. Indeed, abandoned laboratories with tight, dark corridors. Hidden pirate landing pads and jungles inhabited by vicious carnivores. It was only wise to bring weapons that packed a great amount of stopping power for close quarters combat. Liberal application of force indeed. The mercenaries made sure to take stock on supplies, fuel pellets and the other things they needed for the trip to the Nebean Expanse and back to Port Noctis. Derek didn't even have to bark orders and oversee the work, the men seemed even more enthusiastic than their captain about Trusty Sandy's maiden voyage into the vast expanse of nothingness. Every system was checked, then checked again, especially life-support, the fuel lines, comms, LADAR and RADAR, Heat and EM sensors, and other systems critical to their survival. After their preparations were finished the captain finally gave the order for his crew to present themselves at their stations. There was only six of them, Derek included but enough to pilot the Sandy, admittedly with a skeleton crew, Derek caught himself thinking it would be wise to invest some of their funds into a few more warm bodies to work the ship and hold the guns when the shooting starts. In his line of work it always did, sooner or later... "Dusk control, this is the Sailing Starship Trusty Sandy, requiring release and decompression, please forward exit coordinates." A sense of steely determination and confidence welled up inside him. He was not just a hired gun, making ends meet on the station often called the Heart of the Rim. This contract validated all the hard work, the creds, the sweat, the blood spilled to get this ship in working order once more. The captain of a warship for hire and it's mercenary crew, however small small the ship and crew was still an achievement. Now, fortune awaits among the stars.

Following the exit vector provided by the station's traffic control, Derek's ship soon left the system and embarked on a steady voyage through system after system, jumping from cluster to cluster through the Warp Gate network. The closer they got, the less ships they picked up on their scopes, mostly small trader vessels hauling cargo and passengers across the rim. The occasional rusty patrol ship of some local warlord state or independent system. One last gate jump and they were in the Nebean Expanse. A distant cluster with only one world naturally habitable for nitrogen-oxygen breathing life, which included the vast majority of civilized sentient species in the galaxy.

They only had one last FTL-cruise and soon, after arriving at their destination, Captain Waudman stood at the window of his small captain's cabin, looking out at the blue-green ball spinning out there in the blackness. Carefully scanning the system they picked up an engine signature near one of the planet's two small moons. A small ship, could of course be deadly but it seemed more interested an flying to whatever it's destination was, a smuggler perhaps? Fearing Derek was a pirate? Derek directed the scanners down toward the planet and with the coordinates given to him by Bramfar it didn't take long to zero in on the abandoned laboratory, a relatively large facility for a backwater Outer Rim world where it could be kept out of sight and mind.

The scanners detected a small, weak heat signature next to it, a vehicle perhaps. On the captains order, the crew scanned the immediate surroundings as well, there was an old ruined colony not too far away, well within rover distance... perhaps there were scavengers skulking around the area?

Derek Waudman
Bakkan High Orbit

To many, their voyage to the void would likely be something common, an everyday affair. To Derek and his motly crew, it was a taste of true adventure. Every passing jump gate a source of new stress as Derek doted over the ship as if it was a new born child. Checking the internal sensors and alarms for any kind of issue and double-checking the warp-calculations far more than what would be construed as reasonable.

But by the time they arrived in High-Orbit of Bakkan, a steady rythm had washed over the ship as the small crew of the old, but reliable voidship became accustomed to her various needs. As the ship approached the final waypoint, Derek had his two best men kitted out for wear and all of them ready to meet him on the bridge.

With the small viewport of the bridge behind Derek, giving a glimpse of a giant green ball that was to be their destination, the fresh captain spoke to the men that had joined him on this little adventure.

"Alright boys... You know I'm not one for many words. But I'll say this. Some of you have been with me for a while already, some of you are new. But I made all of you promises, decent pay, a fair cut and that i'd treat you all fair."

As Derek began his speech, he nodded towards each of his men. His two "gunmen" had been with him on other jobs in the past, the others he had hired in the months past, to help him take care of the refits and to keep the ship in good shape. But for some reason, he had a good feeling about this motley crew. Perhaps foolish, wishful thinking, but Derek knew he needed to trust these men, or this would all be for nothing.

"I aim on delivering on each and everyone of those promises boys. In return, I need you all to trust me, to trust that i'll have your backs and you'll have mine..."

A short, akward pause came after Waudman's little speech as he gave them another nod, hoping his few, but honest words hit home. He may have been raised on the shit-end of space, but he was true to his friends. And he could still remember his fathers advice. If you served on a ship, in peace or war, you needed to be able to trust your men and your men needed to be able to trust you. Derek aimed to achieve that.

"Let's get to business... Aight, their is one blip on the scanners, a bit too far away to be sure. Let's stay cautious, keep an eye on it and keep our distance. Their is activity on the ground, so expect a firefight, but nobody shoots before I do. Otherwise, the plan is simple. I take Bols and Jarred with me, we secure the scene and grab the package. Then we check if we need to get the hell out of their asap or if we have time to take a look around."

As he spoke to them, the two men,Bols and Jarred nodded, giving each other a wink as they were itching to get planet side. Derek had always been somewhat "business" oriented when it came to firefights. His father had done his part in drilling the boy in basic infantry tactics when he was younger and years in the outer rim had thought him that you lived longer if you kept a cool head. And although he, nor they, were of true military stock, they knew their captain preferred they all adopt a more "focused" outlook, when it was "go-time".

"The rest of you keep an eye on the Sandy and check the scanners, both local and orbital. If you see anything and I mean it, anything at all. You let us know on the coms, I don't want any suprises if we can avoid them."

His remaining crew, nodded, the tension of the situation setting in. As Derek took one last look at his men, taking time to look each and everyone in the eye, he smiled and gave a last, clear nod to everyone.

"Alright boys. This is it, moment of truth. Everyone keep a clear head, do what your supposed to do and We'll all share a drink on a job well done tonight."

With a last rounds of smiles and laughs, they all made their preperations to duck into low-orbit and prepare to land.

Derek Waudman
Bakkan Laboratory Approach

As they made their final approach, the ship ducked into low orbit and began skimming the surface as they approached the target site. All in an attempt to avoid early detection and, god forbid, any surface to air capability that could be onsite. Neither Derek nor his boys were the best of pilots, so he didn't expect it to work out exactly as he planned, but it didn't hurt to try.

On the final approach, Derek left his remaining crew pilot the ship for landing, he himself heading to the docking ramp. As Waudman wanted to be ready to exit the ship as soon as they touched dirt. Derek ensured his two boys had checked their armor, guns and ammo one last time in the final few minutes, before he went through his own mental checklists.

"One minute until touchdown!" A crackling voice called out through the intercom, letting Derek know it was nearly showtime.

The DS-44 felt a bit uncomfortable in his hands, he really did prefer not to get this personal with his kills, it made things more risky. But then again... Risky could be fun. But with his DMR slung across his back, his pistol as a backup and, hopefully, the element of suprise this should be quick. Dirty, but quick.

"Alright bois. Maybe we can scare these shits into standing down, if not, we waste them quick and clean. Keep your heads low, I'll take lead. Stay close and Remember rule no1..."

As Derek donned his helmet and pumped his shotgun for good measure, he turned to his ground crew.

"Don't get shot."

by **Ralnis** » Mon May 04, 2020 3:05 am

Kyr Mirhorn Van

The hit of the first of the two pirate ships was good. A lucky hit from the gods themselves and this made the lead ship be slowed down considerably. The sound of cheer was only matched with the second ship coming to fight against those who managed to injure their partner. Zax already showed that this type of ship was dangerous. This already had more firepower than the lead ship with directed plasma cannons would slice both the Fly and their employer in a few well-place shots. Already Kyr was trying to get a report on the missile bay and that it wasn't reloaded yet.

Already the chieftess had bloodthirsty smile as she got all hands on deck and engines to be set to full speed and thrusters at the ready. If the pirates wanted to fight them in close corners, then let's see how they can handled them. Kyr herself was not going to let one pirate get towards that freighter before the job is done. The greenbills were more than happy to prove their bravery in the face of scum like the pirates but Kyr had to make sure that fervor doesn't cause them to lose sight of the job.

There is honor in this fight, yes, but there's also honor in surviving this as well.

Action: Try to outmaneuver the Cobrus-Class and hit them with the turreted plasma cannons while the missiles reload. Try to make sure that the pirates focus on the merc ship while Sam does his best to pull support.

by **Gudmund** » Tue May 05, 2020 7:11 am

The National Dominion of Hungary wrote:Katar Ann

The wreckage drifted silently out the dark void, illuminated by the floodlights of Katar's ship. Locking eyes with an emaciated corpse through the broken windows, a human male, frozen mustache gleaming with frost. Katar spared no sympathy for the corpse or any of it's ilk still floating in the torn vessel lost in the depths of an unmapped, barely marked asteroid field at the edge of the system. They deserved every bit of the treatment Celena gave them as she stormed through the ship, bending reality to her will and putting an end to another band of slavers in this galaxy. For all Katar cared they could drift here until the end of time, scum like those would not be missed. Thinking for a while on how to best try and salvage something from a wreckage without a space suit, Katar made the decision to use the reality altering powers honed under Celena's tutelage after experimenting with a metallic gas-barrel floating about within the exposed belly of the vessel, taking hold of it through a telekinetic incant. The young Ellirean soon piloted to the starboard side of the vessel guided by a holographic blueprint pulled up on his ship's main HUD with a deft hand on the control panel as he fired the RCS thrusters in precise bursts. He soon found his small ship steadied in the void by the armory of the slaver's freighter. Letting out a burst of tungsten-molybdenum permalloy, he saw them soundlessly strike the dilapidated hull of the freighter and rip shreds of metal from the superstructure, sending them hurtling out into the blackness of space in a eerily silent dance of destruction which lay bare Katar's prize to the void. Eyes turned toward on of the holopanels of the ship's cockpit, Katar zoomed his sensors toward the newest hole blasted into the freighter, the armory was half empty and many of the remaining gun-racks had frozen solidly to the walls in the extreme cold of space. However, there seemed like there were two wall-mounted crates that could be pried loose. Katar opened the external door of the pinnace's small airlock and proceeded to lean back in the pilot's chair, taking a few deep breath and zeroing his consciousness in on the rhythmic, ringing sound thrumming along in the back of his head. His link to the world beyond worlds, to the everything and the nothing which everywhere and nowhere, everlasting and ever changing. As his consciousness slipped further and further into the beyond, he tried to focus on those crates in the ruined freighters armory, keeping their signature strong in his mind. He reached out his hands, and then pulled them back slowly, as if beckoning the objects of his focus back to him. Opening his eyes with his mind between realities, he could see the crates gently float toward his as he watched them against a backdrop of swirling colors and strange manifestations of the Paracasual. Guiding the two crates with gentle, flowing motions with his hands, they finally gently thumped against the walls of the airlock. Katar closed his eyes and focused on the ringing while clenching his fist and teeth to return to the casual plane. Quickly closing the airlock's outer doors he made his way over to inspect his catch. The crate's weren't too large so he had no trouble lifting them to the small table near his sleeping cot. It took some force and tools to get them open but when he did, we was glad to find four Foehammer laser pistols in one and in the other, mostly small bits and bobs, however someone had stored a credit chip there as well with 40 credits which were added to his name.

Skill check: 88 - Large Success
Gain - 4 Mod-5 Foehammer pistols / 40 Credits

Somewhere in space

"Nice," thought Katar, inspecting the pistols once over before returning to his cockpit. Guns weren't really his thing, but he could always sell them for a bit of cash. Checking the nav-computer once again, Katar found himself hovering over Noctis Station, a place Celena scorned and suggested he avoid. By all accounts, it was a festering criminal cesspit. The slavers who'd murdered his parents must've been working for someone higher up, and Noctis Station was a good place to start looking. Katar wasn't sure what he'd do upon arrival, maybe sell the pistols and look around.

Whoever was leading the psionic slave trade would undoubtedly be well-protected, but that deter Katar. To stop them he'd need to become a symbol of fear among slavers. Many others had tried and failed to do the same thing, but Katar wasn't stupid, he wasn't going to blindly rush into it. Leaving those thoughts on the back-burner, Katar aimed true for Noctis Station, where he'd sell his new loot and browse the local market. It was imperitive he lay low, as his psionic status was bound to attract unwanted attention.

Action: Travel to Noctis Station to sell/barter my three (3) Mod-5 Foehammer pistols, then browse the local market.

by **SloopDeWoop** » Tue May 05, 2020 9:42 am

Uzi sat back in his chair, sipping his… …water, “We have a lot of money, what should we do with it?”
Arwa, who was fixing the blockage in the vents under the floor, said, “We need to think about what our goals are. I personally suggest that we might want to get some more hands around here. Quieter engines would not be so bad, but we might want to get some other things first…”
Uzi really didn’t want to talk to anyone now, but if he had to, he would.
“Good morning or afternoon, I was wondering where would be a good place for information.”, Uzi said to one of the mechanics.
“Good-ay mate, aw, it be information you be wanting? Just go on down to the pub over ‘ere.”
“Thank you.”
Uzi set off with Arwa, and left Alaa to guard the ship.
Arwa had something on her mind, “Drugs or guns?”
“What? Uh, Drugs?”
“Interesting....”
Action: Search for crew and information about good places to rob.

by **Elerian** » Fri May 08, 2020 11:31 am

Old Man, Rakodan

“I handled it '' the Old Man said simply to T’Kess as she woke. “Careful now, you may be injured. See to her” the Old Man said to the assistant.

The Old Man rose and walked over to Ket. He’d been knocked out by the Paracasual it seemed. This was likely owed to him being out of practice with his old method of battle meditation. He might have been the finest practitioner of the art in the old Empire, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still become rusty. Not to mention, he wasn’t used to performing his craft on just one being. In the decades past, he used to strengthen the hopes of his allies and heighten the fears of the Imperium’s enemies. What his fleet knew in their hearts must become true because he helped them to believe it so strongly.

They were all probably dead now.

He reached out and touched Ket’s head, trying to see what state he was in. Being so unfamiliar with Salj physiology would make that difficult, but with the help of the paracausal much was possible. The thought occurred to him then, that he wasn’t sure what to do next. He had hoped that Ket would be able to help T’Kess, but their gamble hadn’t paid off. He would need to consult T’Kess on their next move.

“How do you feel T’Kess?”

Actions: Care for Ket and T'Kess, and figure out how to proceed

by **The Empire of Tau** » Sun May 10, 2020 7:32 pm

Merchant Man, Sam
Hacker Man

(Things have been a bit busy on my end with the virus, college work, and whatnot. I'll post my actions for now.)

"Ah, fuck me. These plasma guns will rip away our ships." Sam notes over the comms within his own cargo ship.

"Keep feeding as much false data to their sensors, we can't have them hit us, or we'll be melted apart." Sam commands to his crew.

"Kyr, you're doing good work so far. My crew is still trying to breach their fire-wall. Hang on, friend." Sam states over the common comms. Samuel paid good money for these sensor jammers, and they better be a worthwhile investment. This is it, make it or break it. Sam can't afford to lose his cargo now - it'll be a major setback.

by **Sao Nova Europa** » Tue May 12, 2020 8:42 am

"A hi-frequency signal?" Jaim repeated Lucius' words.

"Yes!" his friend exclaimed. "It looks like some kind of distress beacon."

"Or a trap!" Darren said. As Chief of Security, it was his duty to consider all possibilities. "There have been reports of Ranghorn attacks on ships in the area. It isn't that much of stretch to think that they set up this signal to lure ships into a trap and ambush them."

"You are right..." Lucius sighed. "We should probably move ahead and ignore the signal."

"We can't do that!" Professor Garcia shouted. "It would be totally irresponsible. What if it really is a distress beacon? As Darren said, there have been reports of Ranghorn attacks. Maybe the signal belongs to a ship that survived such an attack. We have a duty to save them."

"I agree!" Tom said. "We are pilots of the House of Yai. It would sully the name of our House to ignore a distress call."

"I all for it!" Johan said, holding a Senemarys C32. He had just gotten to the bridge to get a data data pad for Yang. "I've been itching for some action."

Jaim cleared his throat loudly to get everyone's attention. "Gentlemen! Please! The decision ultimately lies with the Captain, that is me. Most like that signal is a trap, but there is always the slim chance that it is an actual distress signal. And we just cannot ignore that! Mr. Garcia, set course for the coordinates of the signal. Mr. Tom, pilot us there. Johan, get Qian and Nick to prepare for ground combat. Grab your guns. Darren, you've already prepared a dozen of plans for a possible Ranghorn attack. Choose the one that best fits our situation and get ready for a battle." Jaim paused for a brief moment to open a comn channel with the engineering room. "Mr. Yang, ensure that everything in engineering is at perfect order. We may need to make a quick escape." Jaim then called the med-bay. "Miss Emmy, prepare medical supplies for possible injuries. We may be going into a battle."

With everyone at high alert, the Defiant was now heading towards the location of the hi-frequency signal...

Orders:

The starship will head towards the location of the hi-frequency signal. It is at high-alert, because very possibly it is a trap. Jaim, Johan, Qian and Nick will be armed in case there is a boarding party. If we are outnumbered retreat, if not there will be a counterattack in accordance to the tactical situation at hand, but the preferred tactic will be one relying on speed and maneuvers. If the signal is actually a distress beacon, then save the survivors [though when doing so, the ship will remain at high alert and the rescue crew will be armed]. If they want to, offer them to remain in the ship as crewmen. If there is some damaged ship and the survivors don't object to it being looted, loot whatever parts may be valuable.

by **The National Dominion of Hungary** » Wed May 13, 2020 10:52 am

Derek Waudman

The crew did appreciate the words of their captain but as the final stretch of their journey through the voids toward Bakkan they returned to work, immersed in the tasks, the Derek's little speech soon slipped away from their memories as they focused their minds on what was critical for the mission. It was their first mission off-world with their newly acquired starship and each member of Derek's crew was just as dedicated to it's success as the captain himself, focusing their attention on making sure their approach was quick, approaching on a steep trajectory would result in a bumpy ride down through the planet's thick atmosphere. Streaking down through the clouds like a shooting star and cutting through heavy rain clouds, Derek's cutter zipped in fast and low in an attempt to avoid the sensors of anyone parked down there. Hopefully they didn't have anything pointed in his direction, if they did it would have been hard to hide their re-entry, but they could at least hope to lose the scopes once in-atmosphere. Seeming to have come in the middle of a storm, rain spattered hard on the ship as it went down to the landing zone in a small clearing in the jungles below. Opening the cargo ramp, Derek and his two gunmen left the ship, hunkering down as the rain poured, somewhere in the distance the sky was lit up by thunder. Moving under the great canopies above they finally arrived at the facility, a complex of buildings constructed of simple pre-fabricated parts shipped here and assembled on the spot. It was dilapidated, discolored and partially overgrown. By the end of an overgrown path near the entrance stood a lone vehicle, an expeditionary rover with large, heavy wheels caked in mud and rotting foliage. There were two humanoid shapes moving around in the darkness, hunched over because of the pouring rain as they trudged around the vehicle. Derek used a pair of binoculars to get a better look, it was one Human and one Hemoh, both clad in heavy coats, one was carrying a laser rifle and the other, nothing visible but he was also probably armed. They were not armored from what he could see but they could be carrying personal shields. After running a handful of scenarios through his mind, he opted for the least violent option. There might be more of them in the facility and he didn't want these two to call for their friends for help. On Derek's signal, he and his men burst out from their shadowy hiding spots, guns high and flashlights shining into the eyes of the two guards to disorient them. In a few long, fast strides strides Derek had his shotgun pressed to the head of the rifle armed Hemoh before he or his human companion had any time to get a grip on the situation and react. Throwing the two men by the rover down into the soupy mud, Derek and his men quickly and efficiently disarmed them, one Mod-11 Laser Rifle and one M22B Defender handgun theirs for the taking. The guards groaned in pain and disgust from the mud as the rain fell on the dark scene. Derek could of course try to interrogate them, or they could of course just tie them up, knock them out and move on.

Skill check: 48 - Small Failure
Skill check: 85 - Large Success
Skill check: 79 - Large Success

Gain 1 Mod-11 Laser Rifle / 1 M22B Defender / Two credit chits with a combined total of 45 credits from the guards by the rover.

Kyr Mirhorn Van & Samuel Bridge Iron

The dance of death among the stars continued as the four vessels tried to maneuver around each other to gain the advantage. Engines burned brightly in the void, and crews fervently worked their guns preparing to fire. The Dunkidor in particular were hard at work, trying to load up another volley of missiles into the tubes of the cutter's launch bay. It was work that could not be rushed and had to proceed with great care, each missile in itself was an expensive piece of combat equipment, with it's own sensor systems, propulsion and so on. It would not do to have them misfire or Ancestors forbid, malfunction in the launcher. Kyr followed the progress of her ducks in the missile bay impatiently, that weapon system was their ace in the sleeve in this fight as they could out-range both pirate ships with their missiles. Moving in toward the Corbus was dangerous, while only able to fire forward, the two lances packed a heavy punch, the Fly's carronades were lighter, but they were turreted and could fire at targets around the ship and to a certain degree above it as well. Attempting to use it to her advantage, Kyr ordered her pilot to take them into plasma range but move fast to avoid the nose-mounted lances of the enemy. The Fly burned it's RCS-thrusters and pulled a tight turn before darting forward toward the enemy. Sam trying to keep pace with his freighter and too stay behind the Battered Fly. His crew were hard at work trying to crack the pirate firewall when suddenly, a crackle on the screens of the jamming station. "Fuck!" The crewman swore loudly, "They've wormed us Cap'n!" Sam slammed his fist into the armrest of the captain's chair. A worm is a simple computer virus with limited self-proliferation capability but if it got into a critical system it could do a lot of damage. "We have to try an isolate it!" One of the crewmen walked up to the Jammer station to try and help out his beleaguered comrade when suddenly another burst of profanity erupted from the sensor station, the worm was burrowing deeper. Sam quickly joined in, pulling up a series of holoscreens in front of his command station and frantically worked alongside his crew as the sensors flickered, RADAR went down, as did the IR and EM-sensors but the had managed to isolate it before it reached the LADAR. They had quarantined the infected systems but they were almost blind at longer range. They would have to sweep the systems to root the worm out and delete it from their system before they could get their Jammer back online and their Sensors fully functional. In the meantime, they did their best to stay close to their hired muscle, informing Kyr of their predicament it would be up to the Dunkidor to lead the maneuvering. As the Battered Fly zipped ahead, Sam on their heels they got within range of their carronades, pulling a sharp turn to avoid the Corbus´lances Kyr ordered a full volley to be unleashed. The plasma guns roared to life, sending a fusillade of hotly burning death toward the pirate ship. The impacts flashed on the enemy's shields before they went down, a few blueish bolts impacting the armor and hull. "We've almost compromised one of their ship compartments, looks like we sheared a point defense gun clean off the hull! Guns are reloading." Talou exclaimed. "Reload damn you!" Kyr shouted down the intercom to the plasma turret crews. "We got to hit them again before they recharge their shield!" One of the Dunkidor manning the Fly's sensors raised his voice. "Second hostile is keeping it's distance but trying to loop around us, slowly though after we shafted their engines."

Skill check: 73 - Large Success
Skill check: 28 - Bad Failure - Software of Freighter's Jammer software is down and Long Range Sensor-systems are unstable.

Katar Ann

It took him a while to travel to the heart of the Rim, this murky gem in a sea of dim stars. Where all manner of cutthroats, smugglers, pirates, slavers and worse all met to do their deals and ply their trades. As long as the Renegade King and his Outlaw Council got a piece of the take, nothing was beyond a deal to allow. What followed for Katar was days of lonely cruising across the sea of stars, the humming of the engine one of the few sounds he could hear along with the noise of the ship's machinery. Days went by of silent cruising broken up by the occasional passage through a Warp Gate to take him to the next cluster ever closer to his ultimate goal. The journey went smoothly, it was easy to keep away from larger vessels if Katar was worried they might become a threat thanks to the low profile and speed of his small spacecraft which was enough to put him at a safe distance from most of the more suspicious ships he had come across along the journey. As he finally reached the system at which he aimed he soon came up on the great port station of the Outer Rim, from the bottom of the great planetoid vast spires extended downward, given the whole station the apprentice of a massive jellyfish made of rock and metal. Ships in a dizzying profusion cluttered around the station, moving to and from it's many docking bays spread around the spires. A small ship like his owned by a completely unknown captain with no connections was forced to wait an entire day before being admitted to a docking bay. When his time finally came a small autotug latched on to his pinnace and helped steer it closer at which point it was captured by one of this dock's massive grappling arms which carried the ships into their berths. After the airlock closed and the berth was pressurized, Katar had the freedom of the station head. Of course, it was still advisable too keep away from some of the notoriously bad parts of the station. Any sightseeing or visits to the station's vast and varied entertainment establishments would have to wait however, Katar had business to attend to first. Making his way from the noisy dockyards past burly beings in dockworker coveralls and spacers disembarking from newly arrived ships he emerged in the neon-lit streets of the nearest common area. Habblocks and a dozen songs playing from a dozen small shops and streetfood stalls under the artificial lights. Katar made his way down a flight of dimly lit stairs to a long walkway lined with shops, one of them in particular, Revel's Salvage caught his eye. Entering through a sliding door he found himself in a small shop with all kinds of miscellaneous items laying around, a simple kiosk stood on the counter for customers to quickly buy simple wares, however Katar was here on a different errand. Deftly asking the shopkeeper if he was open to the kind of deal he was offering, he took the guns out of his bag and placed them on the counter. The owner, a middle-aged and balding human man looked over the weapons, offering the standard market price, 25 credits per piece, it was up to Katar, would he try to haggle or was it best not to push ones luck?

Uzi Haddad

Following the instructions given by the burly Salunri ship mechanics Uzi and his crewmates made their way from the docks and into the streets of the town. He could see rebel fighters and the black-armored soldiers of the Lost Legion manning checkpoints, people quickly scurried around the streets, seemingly not very responsive to the distant noise of battle. Uzi guessed they had enough experience to know when something bad was about to go down and you had to dive for cover. They walked on the streets wet with water from a previous passage of rain and turned down a side street, passing a number of large storage buildings, some of whom were guarded by armed fighters, no doubt containing rebel equipment and supplies. In the distance they could hear the wobble of music which served to guide those seeking respite from the harsh situation the town was in. Passing by a heap of uncollected garbage on the side of a burned warehouse Uzi and Arwa took a right turn down an adjacent street and there they finally saw it, an open cantina with a beckoning neon sign spelling out "Head in the Clouds". Lewd advertising flickered on cheap holograms as the music grew louder with each step they took. Entering, Uzi found himself in what was not much more than a simple tap-room. Sullen glares from a handful of patrons met them as they entered but the tall Salunri woman behind the counter lit up with a smile, there probably wasn't much business these days. The first round of drinks they payed for, the second round was on the house and the ones after that got the bartender to let her guard down. She spoke to Uzi about the situation in town which was deteriorating, shelves in stores were empty, necessities were getting scarce as the front drew closer and the whole solar system was largely in a lockdown. Luckily, they still had running water and enough food not to starve but who knew how long that would last. When she overheard Uzi and Arwa talking about hiring crew for their starship she offered to keep a notice on the holoboard outside and, as they were spacers she could keep an ear to the ground if there was any work, offering them a table to meet with prospective recruits even. Business must be slow indeed. A few days went by but after while Uzi got a number of messages on his hand-terminal from two prospective crewmates, making use of the table offered to them at Head in the Clouds to meet the two new recruits. He and Arwa first met with a young Salunri woman describing herself as a "galactic explorer and skilled treasure hunter." The second was a man of the same species who came with a long list of ships he claimed to have worked on as a mechanic. Boasting he could disassemble any ship-drive and put it back together again. Both wanted 30 credits up front to sign on, hopefully anxious to leave this rock before the war got any closer. Frequent visits to Head in the Clouds followed, ever looking for snippets of good leads on a heist, the rebel warehouses in the city were obvious, but also obviously well guarded. However one evening Uzi overheard talk of an old abandoned estate out in the countryside in no man's land. "I'd go there, but get strapped up first, you might run into the Prophet's soldiers there and them likes to shoot first and ask questions second. Don't go alone, bring someone you trust to watch your back." He turned back to his drink, making a mental note.

Leon Tchaikovsky

"My, head is spinning..." The Ellirean blurted out. "But other than that I'm all in one piece I think... come on, get a scan going." They said and waved to their assistant. The young assistant quickly ran over to the dazed expedition leader, helping them sit upright and shining a flashlight into their eyes to check the pupil dilation before giving them a quick scan with some kind of medical scanner quickly attached to her hand-terminal, luckily for the Ellirean xenoarchaeologist there wasn't any permanent damage to be worried about, just some bruising and pain that would likely dissipate within a few days of rest. T'Kess wasn't happy about that though, they all still had much work to do after all. Pulling out their hand-terminal they immediately contacted the researchers in the camp above, telling them to come down with a whole list of items Leon didn't know of or what purpose they might be serving. As Leon slowly paced around the old laboratory, gaze turning to one of the poor bastards in the tanks, he traced his finger along the spiderweb-like cracks in the thick glass. No leaks, say what you will of the old Rakodans,the built their things to last didn't they. "We wait for him to wake up, going to call down some help here to clean up the damn mess." She said with a pained groan in response to Leon's question, leaning against the stone slab of a table in the middle of the ancient lab. Her assistant opened a drawer on one of the small metal trolleys the scientists had brought down and took out a first aid kit, taking from it a bottle of pills and handing it to T'Kess who immediately downed half a handful, swallowing it down with a gulp of water. "Most academic consensus regarding the fall of Rakodan civilization is based around it's destruction after fighting a losing war against the Toi'Zahn. This was probably some last ditch effort to produce gene-tailored Salj fighter of some kind, has to judging by his reaction." They said with a nod toward the unconscious Ket still on the floor. As two researchers and one armed guard entered the lab they immediately got to work while the assistant was busy attending to T'Kess. Then, with a sudden grunt Ket's eyes opened wide before closing again. With a low, pained rumble emanating from the back of his throat the large reptilian alien who covered his head with his massive hands, no doubt suffering from a pounding headache. Most importantly however, he seemed to have calmed down, at least enough to be spoken to and answer some rudimentary questions. "Rumors of change and twisting, blood spilled to spill blood. All real." He answered flatly when T'Kess asked him what was down here. "Furbeasts burned Masters all the way from home, all the way here. One of the final strongholds, the great clash had not happened by the time I went on the warm ice." T'Kess probed further, apparently a great battle was being planned by the strategists of the Rakodans to halt an invasion fleet headed for the cluster. "The Hysh Stars burned, but away from my sight, away from my arms." As the researchers were hard at work, T'Kess walked over to Leon who slowly paced the dark hallways. "You have probably saved my life today human, thank you. I am in your debt." She leaned on the wall, glancing back toward the old laboratory. "We are going to gather what data and artifacts we can from here, then I'm going back to my ship, we're going to the Hysh Stars. Our work here is mostly done, and so is our agreement, you will be payed the 800 credits agreed on at the completion of the task in addition to what you have already been payed as a signing fee. Though if you would be inclined to stay for a while longer, I would appreciate your help and support when we go to the Hysh Stars, you would of course be compensated."

Jaim H. Johnson

And so the Defiant burned toward the faint signal in the distance, moving ever closer through the void as the SOS-signal got stronger and stronger the closer they got. The crew was nervous but many were in a way relieved that they went, one day it might just be them out there, stranded and forced to rely on hope that some other captain and crew would come and offer their support in their hour of greatest need. What goes around come around, right? They were careful in their preparations, making sure the ship was ready for fight or flight in equal measure should the unfolding situation call for either, best be well-prepared as it was always better to be safe than sorry. Moving closer, Jaim kept a one of the holoscreens in front of the captain's chair set to display the data from the sensors, glancing toward it time and time again as they approached the stricken vessel. They were getting the first scans in, it seemed like a small caravel. When Jaim ran the data through their on-board database he saw that it was indeed a Sunchaser-Class, a very old but very reliable design often used by down on their luck explorers from Coreward Power space. He wondered where these people may come from, but that thought was quickly forgotten after another glance toward the sensor screen. Nothing out there, nothing quite yet at least but they constantly scanned for the faintest signs of an engine signature. As they got closer, LADAR-scans of the stricken Sunchaser were compiled into a holographic 3D image on one of Jaim's screens. The ship had taken significant structural damage to it's bow sections, several large holes had been torn in the hull and a few starboard compartments were almost completely exposed to the voids. Jaim first thought he was looking at damage from plasma lance impacts but Darren soon corrected him. "Roarer Beams, Captain." He said solemnly. "It's a Ranghorn particle beam weapon. Whatever happened here, it was their doing." The got closer to the drifting ship, debris floating gently near the wreck as the Defiant closed in using it's RCS-thrusters. IR heat-scans suggested most systems have been downed for some time but several aft sections still had atmosphere, nearly the entire bow had been vented, no going there without a space-suit. Then, out of nowhere, a low frequency radio transmission hailed the Defiant. Survivors! Jaim quickly patched the transmission through to the Defiant and found himself speaking to a human woman. She and two of her crewmates had managed to survive in the aft section, the captain ordered them to hide after the Ranghorn crippled and boarded the ship. The rest of the crew had been killed or captured, loaded up on a Ranghorn dropship and taken to the vessel that had attacked them. They had been stuck there for two days and the air was getting thin, the frost crept closer to where they slept. After Jaim calmed her down and offered them a place aboard his ship, she and the two others were so overjoyed they got moving immediately toward a storeroom which was still pressurized to get their space-suits as much of the ship was vented to the void. Jaim ordered the docking tunnel to be extended so they could make their way to a nearby airlock and board the ship. Johan, Qian and Nick watched through the small windows in the heavy, hermetically sealed doors of the airlock as three shapes approached through the docking tether, all wearing space-suits and seemingly unarmed. The airlock opened as Jaim came down to the airlock to greet the new arrivals, as they entered and the outer doors were sealed, he could see the human woman he spoke to red haired with her face seemingly slightly scarred, or tattooed or both. The two others were Ulthar men, one of whom seemed injured from the way he stood. Then the standard decontamination protocol proceeded, soon the inner doors would open.

A Test of Fortune: 76 - Large Success.
Skill-check: 82 - Large Success. - Gain 3 Crew / Gain 3 Space Suits.

by **Tysklandia** » Wed May 13, 2020 12:14 pm

The National Dominion of Hungary wrote:

Derek Waudman

The crew did appreciate the words of their captain but as the final stretch of their journey through the voids toward Bakkan they returned to work, immersed in the tasks, the Derek's little speech soon slipped away from their memories as they focused their minds on what was critical for the mission. It was their first mission off-world with their newly acquired starship and each member of Derek's crew was just as dedicated to it's success as the captain himself, focusing their attention on making sure their approach was quick, approaching on a steep trajectory would result in a bumpy ride down through the planet's thick atmosphere. Streaking down through the clouds like a shooting star and cutting through heavy rain clouds, Derek's cutter zipped in fast and low in an attempt to avoid the sensors of anyone parked down there. Hopefully they didn't have anything pointed in his direction, if they did it would have been hard to hide their re-entry, but they could at least hope to lose the scopes once in-atmosphere. Seeming to have come in the middle of a storm, rain spattered hard on the ship as it went down to the landing zone in a small clearing in the jungles below. Opening the cargo ramp, Derek and his two gunmen left the ship, hunkering down as the rain poured, somewhere in the distance the sky was lit up by thunder. Moving under the great canopies above they finally arrived at the facility, a complex of buildings constructed of simple pre-fabricated parts shipped here and assembled on the spot. It was dilapidated, discolored and partially overgrown. By the end of an overgrown path near the entrance stood a lone vehicle, an expeditionary rover with large, heavy wheels caked in mud and rotting foliage. There were two humanoid shapes moving around in the darkness, hunched over because of the pouring rain as they trudged around the vehicle. Derek used a pair of binoculars to get a better look, it was one Human and one Hemoh, both clad in heavy coats, one was carrying a laser rifle and the other, nothing visible but he was also probably armed. They were not armored from what he could see but they could be carrying personal shields. After running a handful of scenarios through his mind, he opted for the least violent option. There might be more of them in the facility and he didn't want these two to call for their friends for help. On Derek's signal, he and his men burst out from their shadowy hiding spots, guns high and flashlights shining into the eyes of the two guards to disorient them. In a few long, fast strides strides Derek had his shotgun pressed to the head of the rifle armed Hemoh before he or his human companion had any time to get a grip on the situation and react. Throwing the two men by the rover down into the soupy mud, Derek and his men quickly and efficiently disarmed them, one Mod-11 Laser Rifle and one M22B Defender handgun theirs for the taking. The guards groaned in pain and disgust from the mud as the rain fell on the dark scene. Derek could of course try to interrogate them, or they could of course just tie them up, knock them out and move on.

Skill check: 48 - Small Failure
Skill check: 85 - Large Success
Skill check: 79 - Large Success

Gain 1 Mod-11 Laser Rifle / 1 M22B Defender / Two credit chits with a combined total of 45 credits from the guards by the rover.

Derek Waudman
Bakkan Jungle surface
Laboratory Exteriour

Like a well oiled machine, Derek noted to himself as they stood in the overgrown exteriour of the nearly ruined complex. It was uncomfortable, being here. Thick shadows were cast by the storms above and the flashes of lighting only made it seem as if the jungle was creeping ever closer with every eruption of electric discharge, never mind the roaring Thunder that seemed to surround them all. As rain dripped across his helmet visor, he was conflicted about his feelings of this place. The pure raw power of nature overwhelmed him, made him feel small and insignificant, on the other hand, this raw display of nature's fury seemed to make him feel more alive than he had in a long time. Derek his musings were cut short and replaced by curses as he forced himself to trudge through the thick mud and vines that covered the surface, substances that seemed to cling to his feet as he walked.

He took everything back, damn this place to hell.

The only luck seemed to be the thick constant rain that deafened anyone who would have heard them drag the two men towards the rover. Derek knew he had but moments to capitalize on his success up until now. An undetected approach, two men taken down without a shot being fired could almost solidify their victory today. Now all that was left to do was to simply not screw it up...

As they dragged the two men up to their rover, Derek tossed the laser rifle to one of his compatriots, before telling him to keep a discrete watch. A quick message back to the Sandy informed the rest of his crew of the ground team's current status and with the situation in hand, the next order of business could be addressed.

His pistol in hand and the two men searched, they could now deal with their two prisoners... The captain of the Sandy kneeled before the two gunmen as they came to their senses, ensuring they saw his frame, armed and armored, alongside his compatriot besides him, armed and armored in equal measure. Their closed visor helmets ensuring the two men had no face to read emotions from. His voice, filtered slightly through his visor, was calm and level, addressing their captives as soon as they seemed aware as their situation.

"I'm in a good mood. So If you answer my questions, you get to walk away from here alive. Otherwise, you die here in this forsaken hellhole... A few ground rules... Lie to me, you die. Warn your friends, you die. Make trouble, you die..."

To put weight to his words, spoken only loud enough for them to hear, Derek readied his weapon, ensuring to point it towards one of the two downed men with his finger on the trigger. If they attempted to sound alarm or make trouble, Derek could only hope his laser pistol was swift and silent enough to avoid them losing their advantage of suprise.

"Now... How many of you are their, How well are they armed and why are you here? Answer these three simple questions and you get to live."

With his pistol held tightly in hand, Derek was willing to do what needed to be done. This was a dog eat dog galaxy after all, but he hoped these men could appreciate when they were beaten and take the hit to their pride, to live another day. No matter their response, he could only give them moments to respond. He wasn't willing to risk his chance to ambush them, he wanted to be breaching the building in less than five minutes, with or without the information these men could provide.

by **Ralnis** » Thu May 14, 2020 1:44 am

Kyr Mirhorn Van,
The Battered Fly

The chieftess bit her bill in anger. With the merchant vessel being knocked out by a virus. No jamming device means that the ducks had to work extra hard to the job done. Thing is they have been doing just that. The Clan had been fighting a 2v1 fight for this entire time as Sam has only been helping them with long range scan support. The thing is that the ducks have it too and Kyr knew how hamstrung she was due to fighting numbers beyond her but this wasn't the first fight that she had to work around like this.

The pilot had already let her know that the crippled pirate vessel was chugging around them in order to hit the merchant vessel. To be split between the crippled vessel or the one that could be a dangerous threat was a no brainer. She needed to wound this enemy to the point that those plasma cannons won't be a problem if she had to turn and put that ship down finally. Putting a second warning to the crews to reload the cannons she told the pilot to keep up the pressure against the Cobras.

Once the turrets were reloaded then they could broadside the ship before the shields were up and put some actual holes in the pirate vessel. Kyr notified Sam of the lumbering ship was going to be around her as she had to focus on the ship that was in knife range of her and if she didn't then they would've already lost. With that in mind she told the freighter to get out of the fight zone and hide somewhere, she could handle these two and if they lost those supplies then it would be bad for him and dishonorable for her.

Action: Kyr tells Sam to retreat as the crippled pirate ship gets around the Fly. The ships plasma weapons are reloaded as they keep maneuvering around the pirate Cobras and try to fullside the ship again before the shields reactivate.

by **Gudmund** » Wed May 20, 2020 12:00 am

The National Dominion of Hungary wrote:

Katar Ann

It took him a while to travel to the heart of the Rim, this murky gem in a sea of dim stars. Where all manner of cutthroats, smugglers, pirates, slavers and worse all met to do their deals and ply their trades. As long as the Renegade King and his Outlaw Council got a piece of the take, nothing was beyond a deal to allow. What followed for Katar was days of lonely cruising across the sea of stars, the humming of the engine one of the few sounds he could hear along with the noise of the ship's machinery. Days went by of silent cruising broken up by the occasional passage through a Warp Gate to take him to the next cluster ever closer to his ultimate goal. The journey went smoothly, it was easy to keep away from larger vessels if Katar was worried they might become a threat thanks to the low profile and speed of his small spacecraft which was enough to put him at a safe distance from most of the more suspicious ships he had come across along the journey. As he finally reached the system at which he aimed he soon came up on the great port station of the Outer Rim, from the bottom of the great planetoid vast spires extended downward, given the whole station the apprentice of a massive jellyfish made of rock and metal. Ships in a dizzying profusion cluttered around the station, moving to and from it's many docking bays spread around the spires. A small ship like his owned by a completely unknown captain with no connections was forced to wait an entire day before being admitted to a docking bay. When his time finally came a small autotug latched on to his pinnace and helped steer it closer at which point it was captured by one of this dock's massive grappling arms which carried the ships into their berths. After the airlock closed and the berth was pressurized, Katar had the freedom of the station head. Of course, it was still advisable too keep away from some of the notoriously bad parts of the station. Any sightseeing or visits to the station's vast and varied entertainment establishments would have to wait however, Katar had business to attend to first. Making his way from the noisy dockyards past burly beings in dockworker coveralls and spacers disembarking from newly arrived ships he emerged in the neon-lit streets of the nearest common area. Habblocks and a dozen songs playing from a dozen small shops and streetfood stalls under the artificial lights. Katar made his way down a flight of dimly lit stairs to a long walkway lined with shops, one of them in particular, Revel's Salvage caught his eye. Entering through a sliding door he found himself in a small shop with all kinds of miscellaneous items laying around, a simple kiosk stood on the counter for customers to quickly buy simple wares, however Katar was here on a different errand. Deftly asking the shopkeeper if he was open to the kind of deal he was offering, he took the guns out of his bag and placed them on the counter. The owner, a middle-aged and balding human man looked over the weapons, offering the standard market price, 25 credits per piece, it was up to Katar, would he try to haggle or was it best not to push ones luck?

Noctis Station

Katar tsked, disappointment evident by his tone, had it been anywhere else the pistols might've sold for a little higher. On Noctis Station, however, firearms weren't exactly in short supply. In fact, there were probably more guns than people. Not being one to push his luck, Katar sold the three pistols for a total of 75 credits, adding it to his account. Holstering the fourth, and final pistol along his belt. After perusing the wears of the kiosk for a hot minute, Katar left the little shop and made his way over to a much cleaner, brightly lit store on just off the main street. Several mannequins of differing shapes were lined up behind the glass.

Without so much as glancing at the store's name, Katar waltzed in and picked out an Armored Space Suit that caught his eye, trying it out in the nearby changing room. Satisfied, Katar purchased the suit for 75 credits. While Katar's Pinnance ship was, indeed, pressurized and came with an oxygen mask, Katar had grown worried of being jettisoned into the coldness of space many a time. On top of being able to EVA, the suit was lightly armored and included an integrated energy shield.

"Both of which will come in handy down the line," thought Katar, stepping outside the store in his brand-new suit. Katar breathed in the calming scent of new clothes, overpowering the station's rusty aroma. Katar almost felt bad knowing that his new suit would be seeing combat so soon. With more confidence in his step, Katar began his investigation, subtly asking around the various shops as to where he might find some slaves.

Action: Roam around Noctis Station and try to subtly acquire more info on the local slave trade (where they're purchased, whose in charge, recent news, etc.)

by **Sao Nova Europa** » Fri May 22, 2020 10:26 am

The injured Ulthar man was taken to the med bay by Lucius.

"He needs to be treated," he said as he led him to the bed to lie down.

"Let's see," Emily replied as she examined the wounds. Finally some medical emergency, she thought. It had been some time since she had used her medical knowledge and she felt useless. Now, at last, she could contribute to the crew. The Ulthar had injured his leg. She gave him a pill to alleviate the pain and treated his wound.

"Thanks," the Ulthar said. Emily simply smiled back.

Jaim was on the captain's seat on the bridge. Tom was on the pilot's seat and Garcia was sitting right next to him, setting the coordinates for the third planet of the star system, a rock planet with expansive frozen oceans.

"Course set," Garcia said.

"Nice!" Jaim replied. He contacted the engineering room from his comn system. "Is everything alright, Mr. Yang?"

"Yes, sir!" Yang replied, this time more confident. 'As the Captain said, I shouldn't be terrified of him.' He had an awkward smile on his face and was glad that Jaim couldn't see it. "The crew is working at peak efficiency." The three crewmen rescued from the damaged ship were given jobs in the engineering room, helping Yang with the engine and other mechanical problems they may encounter. Yang took a special liking to the redhead woman. She seemed to have a good understanding of engineering.

"Keep up the good work," Jaim said and then he turned to Tom. "Take us to the planet."

"Aye, sir!"

A loud beep sound was heard. Johan woke up from his nap and quickly reported to the bridge for duty. "Captain?" he asked as soon as he set foot on the bridge.

"We will be going to the surface of the planet with Professor Garcia," Jaim explained. "Due to the thick atmosphere, we will be wearing our space suits. You should be prepared for combat, as we don't know what could be down there."

Johan grinned. "Finally! I was getting bored. I need a good fight. You don't know how disappointed I was that the distress call wasn't a trap... It could have been once exciting fight."

"Well... personally I hope you will be disappointed again..."

"Me too," Darren said. "But as tactical officer, I cannot dismiss that possibility. I will have the ship ready for takeoff when you are down there, so that if needed you can make a quick escape. I shall also put the ship on red alert. We need to be prepared for everything. Maybe those Ranghorn will try to ambush us. Better be safe than sorry."

The Defiant will head to the third planet of the system. Due to its thick atmosphere, only Jaim, Garcia and Johan will go to the planet, with the mission being one of exploration. They will wear space suits. All three of them will be armed with Senemarys C32. They are to act in self defense only and show restraint if some alien lifeform is found. In case of big trouble, they will try to escape instead of fighting. The ship will be ready for takeoff and flight, just in case something wrong happens.

by **The Empire of Tau** » Fri May 22, 2020 10:29 am

Merchant Man, Sam
Damn Worms

“This is not good..” Sam notes to himself, staring at his holo-displays in front of him. Well shit, a bloody worm had gotten itself into the systems, the RADAR went down, as did the IR, EM, and LADAR. Luckily, the virus has been held back and quarantined. Now, the crew had the task of clearing out this virus. In the meanwhile, Sam had to drive the cargo-ship away from the fight. He has no other choice now but to retreat as by the time that the virus is cleared out - the whole battle would be over.

“Well, Kyr...Good luck.” Sam says over the comms, redirecting his thrusts to drift off away from the fight. Sam leans back into his chair, now having to watch over the progress of the virus cleaning and monitoring his cargo ship’s direction. The sensors are down too, meaning that Sam can’t quickly ID any other ships inbound - if there were any ships that lurking about. Lets hope that everything works out, if not then Sam is in for a very rough time.

by **The National Dominion of Hungary** » Sat May 23, 2020 2:56 am

Derek Waudman

The two guards sat in the muck in mire, wetted by the rain as it left light streaks across their faces, wiping the mud away as they sat with their backs against one of the massive wheels of the rover it was a rather small vehicle, built to transport a few people over hard terrain, looked like it was sealed against vacuum as well. It would perhaps be a good idea to take it a drive it back to the Sandy when this is all over and done with, then they could likely get themselves a Rover Bay on the ships at lesser price since they would not need to purchase a rover as part of the project. But that was an issue for later, first they needed to make sure they'd get out of here alive and well. That was the number one priority. Crackling thunderbolt lit the scene, the two guards, Derek's pistol glistening in the rain as he asked his questions, making sure the men understood the penalty for noncompliance. The human looked ahead with a empty gaze but his mouth remained shut in a terse frown. The hemoh guard on the other hand spoke up after a few minutes, seemed he had a greater will to survive. "We're just prospectors, we're not here to cause trouble, we don't want to die." He said, his human compatriot shooting him a hard glare. Prospectors, a nicer name some scavengers assigned to themselves. Derek scoffed. "So what, you boys just here to rip wire?" He asked, gun still pointed at the Hemoh. "Old labs sometimes have lots of valuable gear left if they were abandoned in a hurry, lots of equipment that can be scrapped for good parts." Hmm, Derek grunted to himself, made good enough sense. "There's six of us here, four went in to check if there's anything valuable still inside or if there's some kind of dangerous animals nesting in there. They all got pistols, two have rifles, Jorahn has armor. Don't kill them, we're not pirates or anything, please, we're just scavvers." He didn't quite trust them but further attempts did yield much new information with a smack of his pistol, Derek cracked the Hemoh guard on the head, he slumped forward into the mud before his men pulled him out and restrained him with zips, the human guard met the same, a quickly cut off yelp of pain the only thing that escaped his mouth since they were disarmed when the pistol struck his temple and he was tied up as well. With the guards neutralized there was only one way ahead and it was through the pried-open doors of the facility, half covered in foliage and stained dark by moisture. Derek was on point, followed by his two gunmen. The inside of the facility was dark and gloomy, the occasional thunder above lighting up the parlor with pale white light. Faded logos plastered the wall behind a reception. The further in they went the more signs of decay were present. Derek looked down at the small tac-com on his wristguard, loading up the map of the facility provided to them by their employer and displaying it on a small window on his helmet's HUD. As they neared ever closer to a room where the datacores were housed the walked down a wide stair slick with rot and, more distressingly blood, Derek stopped, shining the helmet-light around, there were the scorch-marks left by laser fire on the walls as well as holes, from powder-based or mass-accelerator weapons he did not know. Then, in the distance he saw the corpse of some strange animal, half dog and half reptile in a pool of blood, the dead jaws had wickedly serrated teeth. The lower level had several storerooms and what looked like labs of some kind behind stained glass walls. That is when they spotted two shapes, one Human and one larger, a Tarmassian. Attempting the similar technique of overwhelming force, shock and awe, Derek and his men charged at them. Lights on full blast toward their victims. A panicked shout, one of them, the human threw something on the floor and held his hand up, then a deafening noise blasted through the hallway, Derek's shield flickered from the impact of shotgun pellets, behind him a glass wall shattered. He quickly raised his own gun, the Tarmassian was making a dash for the door, a split second decision, fire? On the other hand they had two, no three prisoners, they could maybe force the surrender of the other three scavvers?

Skill-check: 61 - Small Success.
Skill-check: 51 - Small Success.

Kyr Mirhorn Van & Samuel Bridge Iron

The Fly darted around the Corbas with her carronades blazing, the gunnery crews hard at work keeping the guns running, quickly switching gas-canisters as soon as one of the plasma carronades ran dry. The dunkidor mercenaries rushed back and forth through the ship carrying munitions to the guns while the Chieftess of Clan Van stood perched over the bridge, her gaze darting back and forth between the holoscreens projecting in front of her, engine status, shield status, hull integrity, real-time course plot and much more, a large sensor screen transmitted an image of the battlespace around them, their position, Sam's position close behind, the pirate ship slowly trying to flank around to get clear shot at the freighter with it's mass-accelerators. As the trader's comms still functioned, he heeded the advice of the mercenary he hired, making an attempt to speed away from the scene of the battle. Sam and his crew tried their best to get rid of the worm virus now that they had isolated it, they ran a number of anti-virus protocols, ripping through the infected sensor systems they latched on to a few snippets of malignant code in the RADAR control system but the worm-file still eluded them. Father away as Sam sped away toward a small planet nearby, the Battered Fly sent out another volley of greenish-blue streaks through the void, the gunnery stations firing at will. Plasma weapons needed to be fired at relatively close range, if they were fired at a target too far away, the electromagnetic containment field holding the bolt together would weaken and the super-heated plasma dissipate before striking the target. The bolts fired by the dunkidor struck the pirate vessel, leaving smoldering blotches of melting metal behind as the plasma tried to eat it's way through the armor and hull of the enemy vessel. However, most of their shots fell in a dispersed pattern, melting armor but not hull. The pirates on the Corbus were not idle, their captain, pressured by the Dunkidor onslaught, cut the engines, his ship hurtling forward, then they fired up their RCS and quickly turned their bow toward the Fly. "She's charging up!" Talou shouted. Kyr tapped into the intercom. "All hands, brace for impact!" Two powerful bolts of plasma struck the fly from the enemy's lances. One was absorbed by the shields, a bright light flashing as it absorbed and deflected the shot, the second struck true, burning through what was left of their shield-capacitors. The Fly shook violently as a metallic moan resounded through the ship and red emergency lighting flashed. The top of the ship had a smoldering streak of brunt, half-melted armor plating. "Status report!" Kyr roared. The various compartments reported in, no damages. "They just grazed us, top armor largely ablated but the hull is holding together, no breaches. Shields are down and charging." Talou replied. "Launchers are ready!" Kyr could hear the voice of the commander of the missile battery's gun crew over the intercom. They could get a second volley off now, either trying to get at the stricken ship which just opened fire at Sam's freighter, trying to cripple the engines and board it. They were shooting from beyond effective range, having a hard time catching up with their crippled engine. As such most of the tungsten-molybdenum spikes missed, a few hit Sam's ship but were deflected by the freighter's shields. The merchant could return fire, the enemy was within laser range but without functional sensors targeting would be difficult. The Dunkidor could of course fire at the Corbus in an attempt to cripple it and remove it as a threat, a well-placed missile volley might just get the job done, their shields were down and they have taken out one of their point defense guns in their first volley, now the Corbus only had 3 PDC's left. Then, they could turn and handle the remaining hostile trying and seemingly failing to go after Sam's ship.

Skill-check: 49 - Small Failure / Battered Fly's shields are down, recharging. Medium damage to armor, hull intact.
Skill-check: 38 - Small Faliure / Worm still in system, but some progress has been made in cornering and deleting it. Shields down to 75%.

Katar Ann

He crossed the street back and forth, asking around from suspicious shopkeepers but most asked him to leave with a fearful look. As Katar would soon learn after a few hours of investigation, there were a number of, well, they called themselves "Guilds", rings of suppliers and purveyors who didn't like people unaffiliated with their organisations speaking too much about them. The suppliers were often pirate captains who took the survivors of ships they captured and small colonies they raided and sold them to the slave traders back on the station who would then sell the slaves to whoever wanted them. The buyers came from all across the Outer Rim and some from the Coreward Powers that allowed slavery within their borders, namely a good number of Imperial Successors, the Hemoh Purity and the Greater Kharrash Combine. Katar, tired after asking around in the market areas of several levels and districts finally sat down at a small streetfood stand, ordered something that looked tasty enough and pulled out his hand-terminal for some idle browsing while he ate. "I heard you're quite the busybody, am I right?" A man's voice sounded behind Katar. A human man dressed in a suit, shirt and porkpie hat sat down next to him, ordering a tall glass of water from the streetfood vendor. He turned to Katar, the man had a harshness about his gray eyes, his bear was shaved to a stubble. "Now, most people who want to do business with the kind of people I represent don't tend to come fresh off the docks you see, you piqued my interest." The man took a sip of his drink. "Name's Josias, and I'm here to figure out if you are a customer for the Hiridran Collective." For the next several minutes, Katar would have to rely on his ability to lie convincingly enough for this dreg of sentience sitting next to him. Josias, if that even was the man's actual name proceeded to ask many questions of Katar, who he was, why did he come here, why does he want, "indentured service" as he seemed to refer to the slaves he and the Hiridran Collective were selling. It seemed Katar had brought his finest deceptive tricks, even though Josias seemed hesitant and suspicious about Katar, the Ellirean still managed to coax some information out from the Human. Katar had, at least tentatively gotten Josias to believe that he represented a landowner on the large Ellirean Outer-Rim world of Chasca where, in addition to much of the station's food coming from there, lots of psychoreactive substances grown by local farmers also came in to be processed in the drug-labs of Port Noctis, now, this landowner had purchased land on the planet of Chorlis and wanted to jump-start production of psychoreactives with "cheap labor". A believable enough story, Chasca was one of the few islands of order in the Rim thanks to it's connections with the Renegade King and slavery was, largely and overtly forbidden, it made sense for a person of rank and influence on the world to do any slave trading through a deniable proxy. The Hiridran Collective worked together with dozens of pirate captains as permanent partners in business, but they dealt with many more on an irregular basis, getting their shipments on the docks, surviving crewmembers of taken ships, survivors from raided colonies. Hiridran worked from Harbor X-5 and X-6, the various Guilds operated from different ports on the station and didn't take kindly to the presence of other Guilds in their territory. Then the slaves were kept in "holding", a number of borderline prisons on the station before being taken to a market where buyers who expressed interest were invited to bid. Every word sickened Katar more and more, to the very core of his being.

Skill-check: 88 - Large Success.

Jaim H. Johnson

The trip didn't take too long at all, in that time the new crewmates who they had just rescued were shown to an unused quarter and introduced themselves to their new Captain, one of the Ulthars was named Dothan Kabnak, he and his injured friend named Rorek Gessar had worked as ship mechanics aboard the lost ship while the human woman, Hazin Zaullart had been the Chief Engineer's assistant. Working down in Engineering suited them as a glove did a hand. Zaullart especially showed her aptitude in Yang's eye as she and her fellow survivors slowly familiarized themselves with the ship's engines and systems. After the quick introductions had been made, Jaim went back to focus on the mission at hand, there was much to potentially find in the system and sector as a whole before they moved on, the more detailed the data they could collect, the more valuable the system and cluster charts would be and the more they could sell them for back at Port Dusk, though in Jaim's case they would be sending them back to the House of Yai for their payment, along with situational reports. The more detailed the maps, the more credits they would gain for more crew and equipment and the more favor he would gain with House Yai back in the Commonwealth. As the ship got into orbit, Jaim, along with Garcia and Johan got ready for their surface mission, equipping themselves with space-suits to handle the unbreathable atmosphere of carbon dioxide and carbon monoxide as well as too protect themselves from any possible microbes or bacteria that might live on the planet. The Defiant cut through the soupy atmosphere and emerged below the clouds, flying over a frigid landscape with snow and ice blanketing jagged rocky cliffs and outcroppings. "There." Garcia said to Tom. "Set us down in that valley up there, I'm getting some readings indicating life." Johan smiled and checked his gun, no doubt hoping for hostile life. They landed in a valley surrounded by rocky cliffs, a stream of running water running down from the snowmelt. Garcia took several crates worth of surveying equipment which Jaim told Johan to help the doctor carry. After the small team exited the airlock and walked down the ramp they stepped into the snow. By the water, they could see some kind of moss or lichen growing, Garcia immediately took a sample and placed it in a sealed container. "The planet seemed hostile to most types of life, but I guess that there is some sort of minimal hydrosphere that isn't locked up in ice." Garcia said. Jaim nodded, asking the professor if they might find fauna as well. Garcia said it was improbable but not out of the question. Together the three set up some measuring equipment along the stream and set off following it up the valley trying to get to the source and get some readings there as well. The small group trudged through the snows, crossed rocky outcrops, always following the stream as they came closer and closer to a dark cliff face. They were probably getting close to the source and indeed, they saw the entrance to a cave, their thermometers indicated a much higher temperature inside. "Despite the conditions, some areas like particularly protected valleys and caves might mold more heat and more advanced forms of life." Garcia said looking at the cave entrance, water trickling out. "Should we take a look inside then, Captain?" Johan asked, arms crossed over his chest.

by **Tysklandia** » Sat May 23, 2020 4:32 am

The National Dominion of Hungary wrote:

Derek Waudman

The two guards sat in the muck in mire, wetted by the rain as it left light streaks across their faces, wiping the mud away as they sat with their backs against one of the massive wheels of the rover it was a rather small vehicle, built to transport a few people over hard terrain, looked like it was sealed against vacuum as well. It would perhaps be a good idea to take it a drive it back to the Sandy when this is all over and done with, then they could likely get themselves a Rover Bay on the ships at lesser price since they would not need to purchase a rover as part of the project. But that was an issue for later, first they needed to make sure they'd get out of here alive and well. That was the number one priority. Crackling thunderbolt lit the scene, the two guards, Derek's pistol glistening in the rain as he asked his questions, making sure the men understood the penalty for noncompliance. The human looked ahead with a empty gaze but his mouth remained shut in a terse frown. The hemoh guard on the other hand spoke up after a few minutes, seemed he had a greater will to survive. "We're just prospectors, we're not here to cause trouble, we don't want to die." He said, his human compatriot shooting him a hard glare. Prospectors, a nicer name some scavengers assigned to themselves. Derek scoffed. "So what, you boys just here to rip wire?" He asked, gun still pointed at the Hemoh. "Old labs sometimes have lots of valuable gear left if they were abandoned in a hurry, lots of equipment that can be scrapped for good parts." Hmm, Derek grunted to himself, made good enough sense. "There's six of us here, four went in to check if there's anything valuable still inside or if there's some kind of dangerous animals nesting in there. They all got pistols, two have rifles, Jorahn has armor. Don't kill them, we're not pirates or anything, please, we're just scavvers." He didn't quite trust them but further attempts did yield much new information with a smack of his pistol, Derek cracked the Hemoh guard on the head, he slumped forward into the mud before his men pulled him out and restrained him with zips, the human guard met the same, a quickly cut off yelp of pain the only thing that escaped his mouth since they were disarmed when the pistol struck his temple and he was tied up as well. With the guards neutralized there was only one way ahead and it was through the pried-open doors of the facility, half covered in foliage and stained dark by moisture. Derek was on point, followed by his two gunmen. The inside of the facility was dark and gloomy, the occasional thunder above lighting up the parlor with pale white light. Faded logos plastered the wall behind a reception. The further in they went the more signs of decay were present. Derek looked down at the small tac-com on his wristguard, loading up the map of the facility provided to them by their employer and displaying it on a small window on his helmet's HUD. As they neared ever closer to a room where the datacores were housed the walked down a wide stair slick with rot and, more distressingly blood, Derek stopped, shining the helmet-light around, there were the scorch-marks left by laser fire on the walls as well as holes, from powder-based or mass-accelerator weapons he did not know. Then, in the distance he saw the corpse of some strange animal, half dog and half reptile in a pool of blood, the dead jaws had wickedly serrated teeth. The lower level had several storerooms and what looked like labs of some kind behind stained glass walls. That is when they spotted two shapes, one Human and one larger, a Tarmassian. Attempting the similar technique of overwhelming force, shock and awe, Derek and his men charged at them. Lights on full blast toward their victims. A panicked shout, one of them, the human threw something on the floor and held his hand up, then a deafening noise blasted through the hallway, Derek's shield flickered from the impact of shotgun pellets, behind him a glass wall shattered. He quickly raised his own gun, the Tarmassian was making a dash for the door, a split second decision, fire? On the other hand they had two, no three prisoners, they could maybe force the surrender of the other three scavvers?

Skill-check: 61 - Small Success.
Skill-check: 51 - Small Success.

Derek Waudman
Bakkan Jungle Surface
Laboratory Interiour

Derek cursed his humanity as the Tarmassian slipped through the door, failing to pull the trigger. He wasn't a triggerman for hire anymore, he had to make his own choices now. Choices he had to live with.
Was he really willing to become a pirate, someone who killed some down on their luck scav-rats, even if he wasn't being payed for it? A loud curse erupted through the chamber as the his moment of doubt gave his quarrel enough time to slip to cover. Now he could only hope this didn't come back to bite him in the ass. Barking out commands, Derek's two lads were to collect their third prisoner and whatever he dropped on the floor,

"I'm not here to waste your ass... but my employer needs something from this place and I am willing to put you all in the ground to get it, if that is what it takes. It's up to you if this place is worth your lives."

Derek walked forward slowly, slipping closer to the door that the Tarmassian slipped through, his Shot-gun held high and ready to fire as he spoke loud enough to announce his presence to whoever was nearby. He didn't know what propelled him to give these lads a chance. Few ever gave him, or anyone, such curtosy this deep in the outer-rim or anywhere else for that matter. Even if he was a killer, was he really willing to be a heartless one? If these guys were just some random scavangers, did he want to be the guy who ended up wasting them, just because they were at the wrong place at the wrong time?

"Your friends upstairs are alive... If you give up now, you and your friends can ALL walk from this place Alive with only a dent in your pride. But if you start shootin', them two and this lad are going to be the first to die. "

Stopping behind a hint of cover, Derek waited for a moment to allow the Tarmassian to respond, time he could use himself for his shield capacitors to finish recharging.

by **Vrijstaat Limburg** » Sat May 23, 2020 8:17 am

A’Barathos Tábulïsi

Of all the things the hyperreligious Tarmassian crew could get on the edge of civilization, in the ancient halls of Port Dusk, cheap liquor was the most appealing.

They had never had alcohol before. Those beverages were refused to slaves and labourers, as masters and employers alike deemed them to be dangerous to their property‘s health. Too much liquor turned a man fat and lazy, so the masters had thought.

The fishmen had stocked up on all kinds of moonshine, from all kinds of places. The only thing that each and every bottle in Taro’Ë’s Pride’s cargo comportant had in common was that they were cheap and tasted horribly. Yet, each and every sailor knew for a fact that they did not drink it for the taste, but rather for the strong effects that it had on one’s senses. Aside from now leading a crew of alcoholics, A’Barathos, as well as a handful of Tarmassians under his command had been coerced into buying and using powerful narcotics and opiates, sold and often locally produced by shady dealers in dark alleyways and dusty cafe corners.

A’Barathos had to put a stop to it. Despite the fact that he indulged in booze just like any other man on his ship, he started to notice the bad effect it started to have on his men. Furthermore, the longer they would sit around, basing their very existence on liquor alone, the more difficult it would be to venture out in search of a divine paradise. Tábusïli had only heard faint whispers about a planet filled with deep seas, vast lakes, and swamps and marshes as far as the eye could sea, however: he knew it to be the perfect place for him to be right now, believing that the sapphire oceans would give him answers to the toughest questions. He’d heard tales of how sparsely populated the planet was, how people were only getting about exploring and colonizing the planet recently. He would have his paradise on Aleemu if he could, no man could take that away from him.

Yet, if they wanted to leave, they would have to go now. His fuel reserves were finite, and so were his rapidly-shrinking funds. Port Dusk was not the right place for him, or any of his crew, to be.

And so he rallied his merry band of alcoholics and drug addicts, and called on them to hoist the sails and prepare for travel. They would go out into the great beyond, finding the planet of Aleemu, spreading their religion, and making Taro’Ë proud.

by **Zjaum** » Mon May 25, 2020 12:50 pm

The National Dominion of Hungary wrote:

T'kra Tyawerai

Quickly now! They had to work fast before the ancient power-couplings fried or whatever power-source which they had fired up finally failed once and for all. As the two Werai women got to work trying to collect whatever data they could Roai attempted to mark down the systems showing on the flickering star-chart, especially the highlighted one. Who knows what treasures they might find there after all, a lost Builder ruin filled to the brim with ancient artifacts? Some long lost but once highly important location of the long gone Builder Empire which had spanned the entire galaxy two billion years ago? Roai did her best, she wasn't that good of a star-navigator but with she managed to calculate a rough outline of where that highlighted system could be found. In the meantime T'kra was equally hard at work, fast and focused she used the simple scanning system on her hand-terminal in an attempt to locate the datacore where the star-map was stored. The two women did their best, working frantically in the flickering lights, somewhere in the distance, ancient machinery sputtered and whirred to life with croaking sounds and shrill noises echoing through the empty hallways and chambers. As T'kra was trying to scan for a datacore the system started flickering more intensely, they didn't have much time left. There! Finally! A datacore, T'kra knelt down by a large panel of smooth dark metal alloy and tried to look for some way to open it before darkness fell on the large control room. The starmap had shut off but T'kra still tried to find some way of opening the panel and remove the datacore, maybe they or someone more technically gifted could extract some nav-data. "I can't be sure but I think that the highlighted system is somewhere in the Olos Threshold Cluster, that's pretty close to Port Noctis." T'kra heard Roai say in the distance. Then, the captain heard her crewmate shout out in fear. That pulled her from her work in a heartbeat and she stood upright scanning the control room, trying to ignore the flickering lights. "There captain!" There indeed, in the flickering lights T'Kra could see a metallic shape moving toward them. What the hell was that thing? I was vaguely humanoid, with four sets of arms, two large and powerful and two smaller ones, a metallic carapace with vaguely beetle-like features. It moved forward, twitching spasmodically and emitting a metallic clicking noise from what had to be a broken voicebox. Was that some kind of ancient security system that had powered up in response to their presence and activated some kind of ancient Builder battle-droid? Or was it indeed some kind of service unit, made to help the occupants of this installation? It seemed built for great endurance and to whether harsh conditions, that was obvious even in it's dilapidated state. T'kra's heartbeat raced, her hand moved closer to the laser pistol, but would she draw it? Would she risk it? Would they rather just run?

Skill check - 52: Small Success

T'kra nodded, her eyes focused on the droid. She stopped trying to pull out a datacore. She spoke slowly and surely. "The Olos Threshold Cluster, hm? All right, so, here's the deal: I probably can't talk to that thing if it likes to talk. I probably can't fight that thing if it doesn't like to talk."
"I can fight him!" announced Roai, with no regard to tact. Her shout echoed through the cavernous halls, even reaching Keyu. A faint response came back. "Draw it back here! I can get a good shot at it!"
T'kra put her face to her head before shouting a response to Keyu. "Don't shoot anything!" She could only hope that she didn't give her captor a moment too long to think. She stood still while talking to her companion. "All right, Roai. Run to your left around the droid. I will run to the right around the droid. We catch up to Keyu, we get out of here." She'll figure out what to do then based on the droid's response. If the droid didn't follow them at all, maybe it was friendly. One could hope.
Roai pointed in a direction. "So you want me to go that way?"
T'kra sighed. "Yes! GO!" Both of them started sprinting. In the worst case scenario, her Plan B would still make them very rich.

by **Ralnis** » Wed May 27, 2020 2:24 pm

Kyr Mirhorn Van,
The Battered Fly

The ship rocked hard for the ducks. Kyr was gripping her captain's chair as her breath was knocked out of her for a bit before she said anything. The Cobras class had proven to be an effective close-range fighter as it ripped through the Fly's shields and knocked a good portion of their armor in a single volley. This already was more than enough payback for the onslaught the brave ducks had done. Still, light scarring on the pirate ship's armor and the lost of one of their point-defense with their shields was enough for her to try another dare.

Kyr already had the notice that the missiles were reloaded and she saw that that the merchant ship was still taking some hits but she needed to remove the bigger of the two threats. Kyr gave the order to turn about face and shoot the missiles right at the face of the Cobras. It was a dangerous move and one that will possibly backfire but if done right then they would've taken the Cobras out of commission.

Action: Turn about face to the Cobras and launch the missiles right at their face. Doesn't matter how close the Fly is, bringing down the ship is all that matters.

by **Exalted Inquellian State** » Thu May 28, 2020 1:09 pm

Thorpodeas
Sathas

In the busy market place of Sathas, one should expect many things. They should expect people trying to get the most money out of you. They should expect raids from the primitive locals. They should expect to find star charts in local shops. They should expect that the journey outward will be a long one. And finally, they should always expect, that even when it feels safe, danger may not be far behind.

But what no one expected was a dinosaur walking amongst them.

Yet there Thorpodeas was, wandering around the market place, his eyes darting from one shop to the next. He ignored the stares of the people around him, simply strolling along as if he was normal. They would accept him one way or another. But sadly, today would not be that day. Even his crew of ten was still skeptical of their own captain. He rarely told them anything, not even what he liked to eat or what their next destination would be, at least until they went there. They still stared at him in shock, like a barbaric animal or old artifact. The only reason they still didn't didn't leave Thorpodeas behind and even guarded his ship is because he always found a way to somehow convince them that it would be better to stay with him than go out and fend for themselves. And also fortunately for him, he wouldn't have to worry about anyone shouting about him. The people here were to focused on whatever some guy who controlled one planet and declared himself emperor was doing than just another soul wandering around looking for a map.

And speaking of maps, Thorpodeas finally saw his luck. He found a shop owned by an Emyaar, who was known as a local map salesman.Clearing his throat, he began to speak. "Hello, local salesperson" Thorpodeas said, careful not to say the salespersons real name. "If you find me weird, don't worry. A lot of people do, even my own crew." He began talking under his breath. "Oh, one day, I'll make those disloyal heretic pieces of-" he cut himself off, remembering that Emyaar had excellent hearing. The salesperson was staring at him even worse than the other people at the market. Thorpodeas composed himself, then continued. "But enough about me, I'm interested in what you have." He held out his finger to the Emyaar's head, who was now backing into a corner. When Thorpodeas put all his 350 credits on the desk, the poor soul began fumbling in his pocket's for the phone. What Thorpodeas said next let him put the phone down. "Tell me, how many credits do I have to pay to travel to Rakodan?"

Action: Purchase map of Outer Rim with fastest route to Rakodan.

Galactic Adventures (SciFi/Char/Mechanics/Captains/IC)

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