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To Each Their Own
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| Tiron_Suul | Date: Sunday, 26 Jul 2015, 2:33 PM | Message # 1 |
 Ensign
Group: Users
Messages: 10
Status: Offline
| He sat in the briefing room aboard the Quasar Fire-class Bulk Cruiser Jolly Roger, which served as the base for Outlaw Squadron, carrying their fighters and their personal craft. It was a benefit of their squadron’s unique mission to have their own capital ship to themselves; albeit running on a skeleton crew with exception to the hangar staff. They had only just begun their operations since assisting in the evacuation of Yavin, which lead to his excitement today.
He was awaiting the arrival of their squadron’s advisor, General Pharl McQuarrie. McQuarrie, who had assisted in the formation of the squadron, was soon leaving to assist in the search for and construction of the next primary base for the Rebellion. When he walked in, all twelve of them rose in unison, and sat when he rose up to the podium of the room. The holoprojector came to life with a display of the Centares system.
“Outlaw Squadron,” McQuarrie said in acknowledgement.
“Today will be a blue milk run, on paper at least. You will rendezvous with Mical Crion at The Wheel, within the immunity bubble, in your X-Wings. You will escort Secretary Crion’s personal transport to Far Qasqi in the Centares system.” To this the last planet in the system was highlighted and zoomed in on. Then the third moon of the gas giant was highlighted and zoomed in on.
“On the third moon is a former Senator who is on the run from the Empire and seeks the Alliance for protection. In exchange, he is said to have an unknown amount of assets he wishes to transfer to the Alliance. A group of freighters, under escort by Crimson Phoenix Squadron will be waiting in deep space nearby. They will hyper in when you give the all clear signal and take possession of the assets. We do not expect Imperial forces during this operation, but forces will be available for reinforcement if necessary.”
With that they had their mission. All the major points of the mission were illustrated on the holoprojector, and with order or suggestion, they rose in unison to the General and immediately headed to their locker room. Within an hour, they were deployed out of the Jolly Roger and jumped to The Wheel.
Captain Tiron Suul
Alliance Starfighter Corps
Commanding Officer, Outlaw Squadron
Captain of the Firewalker
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| Secretary_Crion | Date: Wednesday, 29 Jul 2015, 5:20 PM | Message # 2 |
 Trainee
Group: Users
Messages: 7
Status: Offline
| The All Stars Burn As One had been sitting in the space surrounding The Wheel for some time. Eighteen hours to be precise. Within the immunity sphere surrounding the space station, they were free from interference by the Empire. It was in fact something that the Alliance had taken great advantage of, but Simon Greyshade ensured that the corrupt Imperial government of the sector looked the other way in regards to all of The Wheel’s activity, not just some.
As he stood on the bridge, watching the traffic around the space station, he pondered how long it would be until the Empire could no longer be held at bay with corruption and greed. It seemed everywhere one turned, there was no place that was certainly safe. He was grateful that they were able to evacuate Yavin without incident, as he and many others within the Alliance’s leadership feared a drawn out siege. While there was a mobility offered by space that could not be matched, there was something about having solid ground to set your feet on that comforted him. He tried to set foot on a planet or moon as often as possible these days until a new headquarters was found.
He missed Dantooine. There was something about the planet that left him with a feeling of calm and ease; perhaps due to the region in which they had set up base reminding him of his estate on Tallaan. His estate. It was impossible for him to think of the estate without wondering what the Empire had done to it since his escape from under their thumb a decade ago.
His thoughts were suddenly interrupted with the arrival of Outlaw Squadron. Whereas he had been lost in his thoughts and daydreaming for several minutes, the real world returned with surrealistically vivid abruptness as the comms crackled with Outlaw Leader’s rapid voice confirming their reversion from hyperspace.
“Valorum, we have arrived at Point Peth. Awaiting your signal.”
“Copy that, Buccaneer. Proceed to Point Orenth,” responded the captain of the ship.
They were in fact nowhere near one another. Several kilometers of distance separated the X-Wings from the cruiser, and they were on opposite sides of the station. It was a practiced and perfected strategy, which hid them among the traffic of the station. Even the encrypted comms would be hard to slice into or tap among the cacophony of several other ships in the area and the station itself. After a randomly selected delay, and at a randomly selected interval, both groups would jump in a random direction out of the system and into deep space. Once clear, they would revert for a brief few minutes to make their true jumps to a rendezvous point, also in deep space, before making their final jump to the edge of the Centares system.
By the time they arrived at Far Qasqi, he had been aboard the ship for over a day. It had been a couple of years since he had spent any time longer than that in space. During his career in the Judicial Forces and Republic Navy, as well as his time as the Man in the White Cloak, he practically lived in space. Life in a spaceship came naturally to him, despite his preference for solid ground under his feet and fresh air to breath. During their voyage from their reversion point to the planet of Far Qasqi, he had taken the time to freshen up and change. As always, he was an impeccable dresser with an outfit that always seemed smart and sophisticated but humble as well. It was a look the eluded many but he seemed to always achieve it with ease. He found himself on the bridge again, hoping that Cambrist was going to be true to his word.
An encrypted comm was signaled to the moon in question in orbit of Far Qasqi. It was the infamous speech he made to the Senate over a decade ago, which began his life as a rebel. It would continue to broadcast until a response as made. It was an attempt to confirm to Cambrist that he and the Rebellion was here without actually having to say so were someone to successfully slice into their comms.
Mical Léo Crion
Secretary of the Cabinet
Owner, Château Hiver Rivière (suspended)
Message edited by Mical_Crion - Thursday, 30 Jul 2015, 4:03 AM |
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| Reuke_Cambrist | Date: Tuesday, 04 Aug 2015, 1:17 AM | Message # 3 |
 Ensign
Group: Users
Messages: 14
Status: Offline
| Cambrist felt the gravity of the situation too heavily to appreciate the moment of levity, otherwise he might have smiled at Crion's transmission. With his exquisite memory for details, Cambrist recognized it immediately as Crion's infamous 'Words Matter' speech. He had participated in hounding Crion out of the Senate for saying in the speech that the Empire "will kill anyone who disagrees with it." The irony of this was not lost upon Cambrist now that the Empire had attempted to kill him for exactly that reason.
The petit former Senator of Brentaal sat in a large repulsorchair that made him appear even smaller than he was, alone in his well-appointed quarters in his Far Qasqi retreat, a holographic display in front of him showing the approaching rebel ships. Years ago, when Cambrist had come into ownership of the moons of Far Qasqi, this retreat had been a long-abandoned mining compound, and it certainly looked like one from the outside. But Cambrist had renovated the interior with all the comforts of home, and had a power generator installed to keep it functional in his absence. It also powered a series of light turbolaser turrets throughout the compound, intended more to scare trespassers away than to do appreciable damage to anything larger than a starfighter.
But the compound wasn't totally defenseless. In addition to housing Cambrist's collection of priceless Jedi and Sith artifacts, it was also home to 32 Arrowhead-class drone interceptors. Several years ago, he had commissioned the Arrowhead from Kuat Drive Yards to defend the Brentaal system from pirates, but the misunderstood 'droid starfighter' (in fact, it was neither a droid nor a starfighter) hadn't been well-received in the post-war era, and the 32 of them at Cambrist's retreat were the last models in existence. Cambrist had run diagnostics checks on them upon the Cormond's arrival at Far Qasqi, and been gratified to find they were still functional. He had ordered them fueled—and his collection of artifacts packed up and loaded onto the Baudo-class star yacht he kept at Far Qasqi to avoid paying taxes on it—in advance of Crion's arrival.
As for the Cormond itself, the corvette remained in low orbit above the retreat, running on minimal power so as not to draw any unwanted attention from nearby Centares. It still wouldn't be missed on Brentaal for another couple of days, but Cambrist hoped by then that his safety would be guaranteed, and he'd have no further need of the Cormond. But for now, its crew would continue to follow his orders even as Cambrist's actions would begin to appear more dubious.
Rather than smiling at Crion's transmission, he frowned, wishing that Crion hadn't come personally. Cambrist's holographic display showed the number and location of the rebel ships, with a built-in targeting computer automatically calculating firing solutions on each, but identifying them with the color green, for 'friendly' (though Cambrist wondered just how friendly the rebels would be to a former Senator with a pro-Imperial reputation). He noticed that the rebels had jumped into the system a considerable distance away. This made sense; with eight moons, Far Qasqi was practically a natural interdiction field, and a nasty one at that. This, more than anything else, had kept would-be intruders away from Cambrist's retreat over the years.
Cambrist opened a channel directly to the All Stars Burn as One, broadcasting in subspace with seemingly no concern about the transmission being intercepted; Cambrist calculated that they would be finished here long before anyone on Centares picked up the signals, much less came to investigate. He wasted no words on pleasantries, explaining to Crion about the Arrowheads, reminding him that the price for them was a guarantee of his personal safety, and transmitting landing data.
Sir Reuke ur'Tsyne Cambrist
Chairman of the Imperial Trade and Commerce Authority
Seneschal of House Cambrist
Former Imperial Senator of Brentaal
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| Secretary_Crion | Date: Friday, 07 Aug 2015, 3:31 AM | Message # 4 |
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Trainee
Group: Users
Messages: 7
Status: Offline
| The unencrypted transmission from the surface chagrined the crew of his ship. He eased them however, attributing it to Cambrist's confidence that they would not have an issue this far out. He hoped that his assurances were correct. He was taking a gamble in the defection of such a high profile, pro-Imperial Senator such as Cambrist. He was hoping he wasn't walking into a Senator Trayvus like scenario; it still angered him that the Empire would use such tactics to bait out dissidents before any real war had begun. He pushed aside such thoughts as they began to enter the atmosphere, hoping that his fears would be just that.
The X-Wings of Outlaw Squadron would escort the All Stars Burn As One down to the surface of the moon. As it went into its landing cycle, the X-Wings screamed past and back into the sky to enter a high altitude holding pattern. After a few moments on the landing pad, the boarding ramp to the Charger c70 Retrofit Consular-class Space Cruiser opened. Down its ramp camp ten Alliance Marines, followed by Crion under escort by four Alliance Special Forces operative, who were assigned as his personal bodyguard unit.
Once the landing pad was declared clear, the group moved to enter the estate. At this moment, the four Bulk Freighters that had been on stand by were called in and hypered into the area, closer to the moon than the initial entry of Crion's party moments ago and under escort of a another group of 12 X-Wings, and proceeded to journey towards the moon.
Mical Léo Crion
Secretary of the Cabinet
Owner, Château Hiver Rivière (suspended)
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| Reuke_Cambrist | Date: Monday, 10 Aug 2015, 0:40 AM | Message # 5 |
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Ensign
Group: Users
Messages: 14
Status: Offline
| Cambrist had stood from his chair and pulled a datacard out of the holographic display, causing it vanish suddenly from the center of the room. A few moments later, when Crion emerged from the All Stars Burn as One against the impressive backdrop of the approaching bulk freighters and their X-wing escorts, Cambrist was there on the landing pad to meet him. It was a strange feeling, appearing to stand on the face of the moon without even the most basic of vac suits. Cambrist had to remind himself of the unseen containment field that surrounded him. Still, it was cold. His Velusian fursnake coat could do only so much to warm him, the deceased creature's triangular head and formidable teeth hanging over his shoulder. Let it never be said of Reuke ur'Tsyne Cambrist that, even on the run, he was not fashionably-dressed.
Cambrist took a deep breath, the small man standing his ground with his arms behind his back as Crion and his troop of Rebel soldiers approached. "Gentlemen," he announced (though the Rebels appeared to be anything but—the Special Forces in particular), "You'll find what you're looking for in my private hangar. But I wonder if you won't first indulge me in saying a final farewell to my retreat and some of my possessions I shall be forced to leave behind. I assure you I won't delay you long. Perhaps you'd care to join me, Mr. Crion? I have some sentiments I would rather express to you in private." Whatever else Crion was, he was at least, a gentleman. No doubt he would nod and honor Cambrist's request.* Moreover, having surely scanned the compound for life signs and finding only one, Crion could be reasonably assured this wasn't a trap.
"It would appear that I owe you an apology, Sir," Cambrist said to Crion as the duo receded into the compound, Crion's guards waiting reluctantly outside. Neither of them could readily remember a time when Cambrist had apologized for anything. It was rare indeed. "I admired—to a certain extent, of course. To a certain, very limited extent—what you did in the Senate all those years ago. You must have known there would be consequences for saying what you did. Words, as you said, do... "
Cambrist went on at some length as he took Crion on a tour of the retreat, interrupting himself occasionally to point out that the carpeting was the scientifically-precise color of House Cambrist, or that the upholstery on his repulsorchair was genuine Emori leather, and that he would regret having to leave these things behind.
"... many thousands of years ago," he continued, "when the first man discovered how to make fire. He was probably burned at the stake he had taught his brothers to light, but he had left the Nations of Zhell a gift they had not conceived, and he lifted darkness off that Force-forsaken primordial Notron. Even in more recent times, the history of Brentaal for instance, there have been those..."
He'd also had a chef droid programmed to make an excellent Vuultin stew, he interrupted himself to point out. As good as on Brentaal. He mentioned his collection of Jedi and Sith artifacts, including the lightsaber of none other than Lord Hoth himself, which he had purchased an auction for a fraction of its inestimable value. "... the history of the Republic is one of small acts of heroism. The Republic was based on the Rights of Sentience—that is, the individual rights of every man. It was a Republic not weakened, but strengthened by the inherent self-interest of the Human race. It was a Republic where a man was able to prosper, not starve. To achieve, not to plunder. This is what the Empire asks us to destroy. It punishes those small acts of heroism because..."
Cambrist had shipped in a collection of wines he had personally chosen from his Chateaux's ancient wine cellar, including this bottle of vintage Quermian spiced wine, from the farthest reaches of the Perlemian Trade Route. Or this one from Caamas, which dated to the the time of the Stark Hyperspace War, years before the planet's destruction. Cambrist lamented that they didn't have enough time to breathe in its exquisite aroma. But he digressed. "... the real reason why the Jedi were destroyed. The Empire is only possible in a galaxy without heroes. The old heroes—the old 'gods,' if you will—needed to be destroyed in order for Palpatine to rule all of Humanity with absolute power. Instead of the hero, we venerate the ideology. The 'New Order.' The mere existence of the Rebellion is a challenge to this idea. A single man standing up, speaking out. A small act of heroism. This is why I respect what you did..."
Ah, the Arrowhead-class interceptor. It had been misunderstood in its time, Cambrist explained as they reached his private hangar, where all 36 of the Arrowheads were fueled and ready to launch. Cambrist had been personally involved in its design, did you know? He had personally commissioned Industrial Automaton to develop a new processor, based not on the Vulture droid as his competitors had done, but on the Intellex-series found in R4 droids, which no one had attempted before or since. The Arrowhead had performed as well as a Human pilot, but simply hadn't been appreciated. And this was Cambrist's Baudo-class star yacht. It was much faster than he needed for travel in the Core Worlds, and worth more in taxes than he would prefer to pay, hence its presence here at Far Qasqi.
"... but," he continued with a deep, mournful sigh, "the Empire has destroyed the hero. And that is why you won't succeed, Crion. You can't. You were doomed from the moment you made that speech, if not before. There are no heroes, Crion. You are a man out of time, and in more ways than one, I'm afraid." He had stepped back from Crion, slowly and steadily up the ramp of the star yacht. "I said that I owe you an apology," he added, "I'm sorry, Crion. Truly." He pressed a panel beside him, and the ramp hissed shut abruptly. Cambrist turned, a look of genuine regret on his face as he seated himself in the cockpit and started up the engines. Crion would step back if he knew what was good for him. A moment later, he inserted his datacard into the ship's computer, and the familiar holographic display from his private suite appeared in miniature before him. With a single press of a button, the green-colored Rebel ships turned blood red, and the 36 Arrowhead-class interceptors roared to life.
Crion would find himself suddenly very small, surrounded by ships blasting out of the hangar and into space, Cambrist's yacht among them. Simultaneously, the compound would shudder as the sound of turbolasers was heard—12 of them in all—firing at every Rebel ship in sight, but especially the X-wings of Outlaw Squadron. One moment and a transmission from Cambrist later, and the Cormond would join in, opening fire on the Rebel bulk cruisers as the Arrowheads rushed to engage the X-wing escorts like blood-starved raptors of the heavens, or perhaps of hell.
Back in the hangar, Crion, now alone, might find his gaze drifting to the one remaining vessel, an old Theta-class shuttle. Once a necessary ship for any self-respecting Imperial Senator, it had long ago fallen out of favor. Thus particular shuttle, while perfectly functional, had been sitting here on Far Qasqi half-covered in canvas for a long time, its navigations computer out of date and its fuel cells mostly decayed. It was good, perhaps, for a couple of short hyperspace jumps.
* Jaron has given me permission to take some small liberties with Crion during his 10-day absence, hence why he's following and listening to me in silence.
Sir Reuke ur'Tsyne Cambrist
Chairman of the Imperial Trade and Commerce Authority
Seneschal of House Cambrist
Former Imperial Senator of Brentaal
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| Admiral_Blackwood | Date: Friday, 14 Aug 2015, 4:15 AM | Message # 6 |
 Ensign
Group: Users
Messages: 12
Status: Offline
| The Praetor
Command Bridge
The moment the communique had been received, the Praetor Battlegroup had immediately cleared any and all required clearance for its immediate departure from Kuat, there had even been the possibility of a stuttering and unsure official nearly losing his job for his hesitation. That was pushed to the back of the Admiral's mind, for now he was just moments away from the targeted world of Far Quasqi, where the supposedly deceased Senator Cambrist had been. The Admiral didn't like it one bit though. He had seen enough of the Senate during the days of the Old Republic, and when it had been announced that the Emperor had seen the Senate dissolved of all duties, he was one of those whom had nothing more than praise for the decision.
Looking out the window, he nodded as the officers on the bridge rushed to their stations. Much of the vessel was already on alert, with the possibility of running into a Rebel Convoy. The Admiral moved towards the large view screens, his arms behind his back as he clasped his hands together. He had only the Tartan class Patrol vessels as an escort, though they were there more for the damned X-Wings that the Rebels had gotten their hands upon. For the most part there was a fire brewing in the belly of the Praetor, one of TIE fighters, and pilots both suicidal and eager to rush forward.
"Prepare to drop out of hyperspace. All hands to stations."
The warning blared out across the vessel before the stars began to slow, with the near immediate burst of a bright flash upon the background of the blackness of space. The Praetor had arrived, the vessel lumbering forward as it dropped from hyperspace just outside of the system, though still relatively close to Far Quasqi. Nodding his head he turned and moved down the length of the bridge.
"All vessels, prepare for engagement. All TIE Squadrons are to deploy immediately. TIE Bombers are to take formation behind the Praetor with two Squadrons of TIE Fighters to cover their flanks. TIE Interceptors are to take up formation with the Tartan class Cruisers and provide an Anti-Starfighter Screen. I don't want a single one of those damned X-Wings or Y-Wings getting near the Praetor."
The vessel was awash in a myriad of activity; gun crews rushed to their positions, while Stormtroopers on board the vessel prepared for the possibility of boarding enemy vessels. Even the ground elements were prepared should the conflict go to ground. The Hangers blared as the TIE Squadrons were quickly rushed out of the Hanger with the loud whining roar of their engines.
The Praetor had indeed arrived, and it brought with it destruction.
Admiral Blackwood
Commanding officer of the Praetor
Imperial Navy
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| Malos_Yhemn | Date: Friday, 14 Aug 2015, 6:20 AM | Message # 7 |
 Trainee
Group: Users
Messages: 8
Status: Offline
| It had taken no small amount of time and effort for Yhemn to track the Cormond. Even with a sophisticated scanning suite and the tracker, the Winter Dream was no Slave I. For as much work as Yhemn put in, he had a ways to go before he was able to call down the wealth of contracts such as Fett did. Nonetheless, he got by with the equipment he had,and it was good enough to put him leaps and bounds ahead of the majority of marks he went up against. Far Quasi, though, was the last destination Yhemn would have expected.
He'd plotted his last jump course carefully, set to bring him out of the system inside its outer edge, and what a surprise he came out in to. Even from a distance of nearly eighty-thousand kilometers away and ahead, the image of a Praetor-class battleship was enough to set him on pause. Why were the Imperials here in force? Was there something he was missing? No, he still had his job to do, and Cambrist was still a wanted man. Flipping his IFF transponder, a gift, if one could call it that, in terms of the frequency, to a specific channel set for Imperial forces, he marked the Winter Dream as 'friendly' to all Imperial vessels within the system; at least that's what he would pop up as. Barring that, of course, a visual inspection would show that his craft was a heavily modified Aka'jor-class shuttle; hardly something the rebellion used.
The Imperial presence blocking the route ahead was something of an issue. Working with his nav computer quickly, Yhemn altered course, taking him on a wide-angle around the Imperials, then punched in a microjump, where he'd allow Far Quasi's own gravity well to yank him out of hyperspace and, with any luck, be close to Cambrist. The man wasn't going to cut and run today; that much was for damned sure.
Malos Yhemn
Contractor
Bounty Hunter
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| Tiron_Suul | Date: Monday, 24 Aug 2015, 2:37 PM | Message # 8 |
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Ensign
Group: Users
Messages: 10
Status: Offline
| ((I personally think any defenses for the estate, like the turbolasers, should have been part of the request for the estate. I won't let this be an issue however since I took so long to post.))
Outlaw and Crimson Phoenix Squadrons were at high-altitude, in holding patterns around the estate, when Cambrist's betrayal was made. It was a FUBAR moment to be sure. The Arrowhead was faster and more maneuverable than the twenty-four T-65B X-Wings, similar in fact to the performance of the new TIE/IN Interceptor, and carried more firepower with their two quad light repeating blaster cannons. As the turbolasers of the estate opened up on them, the fighters began evasive maneuvers, before picking up the incoming Arrowheads.
"Boss, we have 32 marks coming up at us hot," Outlaw 5 informed him.
Outlaw 11 cried before he could even respond. "Captain, a fracking Praetor just dropped out of hyperspace!"
"Calm yourself eleven, looks like the same jump point we used. Looks like the TIEs are only forming up, not moving towards the moon. That gives us time but we need to get going ricky-tick," responded Outlaw 2.
It was a source of pride in him that he had not been required to speak a word yet to his squadron.
"Outlaw Leader, you seeing what I'm seeing?" asked Crimson Phoenix Leader.
"Roger, Crimson Leader. Let's deal with the bandits first. We'll go head on, shields double front. Pick a target and take it once it's in range."
Once Crimson Phoenix Squadron's commander acknowledged, they both relayed their plan to their pilot. Quickly, the twenty four X-Wings rolled and then descended to meet the incoming Arrowheads head on; now dodging the incoming, sluggish turbolaser fire as they did so. As instructed all switched their shields to double front and selected an individual target that they would fire upon the moment they were in range.
Captain Tiron Suul
Alliance Starfighter Corps
Commanding Officer, Outlaw Squadron
Captain of the Firewalker
Message edited by Tiron_Suul - Monday, 24 Aug 2015, 2:38 PM |
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| Secretary_Crion | Date: Monday, 24 Aug 2015, 2:53 PM | Message # 9 |
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Trainee
Group: Users
Messages: 7
Status: Offline
| As Cambrist's yacht took off, he activated his commlink. Solemnly and calmly, he keyed the captain of the All Stars Burn As One, and spoke in a matching tone. By now, his guard had returned to the ship to await his single to oversee the transfer of the fighters that would never come... the landing pad now packed with the freighters which surrounded his personal starship.
"Captain, code black."
"But sir..."
"Do it."
With that captain followed his orders. When the turbolasers opened fire they indeed targeted the X-Wings above, but they also targeted the four Bulk Freighters now parked on the landing pad. After the first salvo, the All Stars Burn As One was in compliance with his order, which was for immediate take off and departure, which would result in the ship blasting its way into the hangar to pick him up. While the automated turbolasers went to work on destroying their initial targets, the All Stars Burn As One blasted off of the landing pad. The turbolasers would likely target it once done with the freighters who would last only a few more salvos, but hopefully they would be in the hangar on the other side of the estate at that point. When Mical eyed the shuttle, he keyed for the captain once more.
"Captain, belay that order. Proceed to the far side of the moon and find a landing zone. Transmit to me your coordinates."
With that, he boarded the shuttle, and quickly started up the shuttle, being familiar with its flight from his days as a Judicial Forces pilot. Since there was little need for combat pilots before the Clone Wars, every Judicial pilot was certified both as a fighter pilot and a shuttle pilot. It took a few moments for him to recall the exact process to start up the shuttle, but he was also simultaneously throwing procedure out of the door and going about the start up as quickly as he could.
By the time the freighters exploded spectacularly on the landing pad, he was also screaming out of the hangar, looking to put as much distance between himself and the estate before the turbolasers inevitably targeted the shuttle.
Mical Léo Crion
Secretary of the Cabinet
Owner, Château Hiver Rivière (suspended)
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| Reuke_Cambrist | Date: Thursday, 27 Aug 2015, 7:00 PM | Message # 10 |
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Ensign
Group: Users
Messages: 14
Status: Offline
| (I think the Far Qasqi request was the first or second post I made on the site and I hadn't gotten used to the short time out period, lost my original request and re-typed it without the turbolasers, because I know I requested them originally. Sorry about that, however I did reduce the number of turbolasers in my post from 16 to 12 so it's more sporting. I'll have a post up later tonight. ) Added (24 Aug 2015, 7:40 PM)
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(Although I did mention it earlier in the thread.)
Quote It also powered a series of light turbolaser turrets throughout the compound, intended more to scare trespassers away than to do appreciable damage to anything larger than a starfighter.
(... sneaky devil that I am.)Added (27 Aug 2015, 7:00 PM)
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Cambrist's Baudo-class yacht had blasted out of the hangar at the head of the Arrowhead-class interceptors like an alpha leading a pack of drexls in a hunt. The speedy yacht soon pulled ahead of the pack, however, as the Arrowheads dispersed to engage their targets while Cambrist proceeded toward the Praetor, steering widely around the turbolaser fire arising from the moon's surface and debris from the exploding bulk cruisers. How Yhemn intended to stop him was not clear; as aforementioned, the many moons of Far Qasqi caused gravitic chaos which would prevent him from jumping in close to Cambrist, and the Praetor already being much closer, and Cambrist's yacht much faster, presumably the Senator would get to it long before Yhemn would get to him.
As he quickly left the scene of the battle behind him, Cambrist directed his shields to the rear (he had once served in the Brentaal Merchant Navy and was well-acquainted with his planet's tradition of space travel), then opened a channel to Blackwood's ship. "Imperial Praetor-class vessel," he said, his Brentaal accent unmistakable, "This is Sir Reuke, lately Senator of Brentaal. Transmitting my credentials now and requesting clearance to land." He made sure to approach the Praetor from a wide angle so he wouldn't get in the way of any TIE's or other ships it might deploy to the moon.
Outlaw Squadron wouldn't have too much to fear from the turbolasers; as Suul had correctly noted, they tracked slowly. The AI also wasn't particularly sophisticated. It was only while flying straight and at medium- to long-range that the turbolasers would be dangerous to them—such as right now. A spattering of hits would be scored on several of the rebel fighters (though none causing serious damage) during their game of chicken with the Arrowheads, a dangerous game indeed considering that without self-preservation instincts, the Arrowheads were bound to get the better of any head-on confrontation. They would open fire with their repeating blaster cannons, no doubt wearing down the shields on the rebel ships and perhaps pecking through some of handful of shields already weakened by turbolaser fire.
Sir Reuke ur'Tsyne Cambrist
Chairman of the Imperial Trade and Commerce Authority
Seneschal of House Cambrist
Former Imperial Senator of Brentaal
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| Malos_Yhemn | Date: Friday, 28 Aug 2015, 2:28 AM | Message # 11 |
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Trainee
Group: Users
Messages: 8
Status: Offline
| There was the possibility of jumping straight at the Praetor, allowing its own not-inconsiderable mass shadow to drag him out of hyperspace. However, the events going on at Far Quasi were breaking down into a general melee, and the Winter Dream was not equipped to handle such. Well, there would always be another day for Cambrist. Until his Imperial contact informed him otherwise, Cambrist would still be a wanted man. Unless, of course, someone wanted Cambrist and was willing to pay more. In that case, the former Senator would still be a wanted man, just for a different reason.
Bringing his vessel about, Yhemn made for the edge of the gravity well, then jumped away.
Malos Yhemn
Contractor
Bounty Hunter
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| Tiron_Suul | Date: Monday, 21 Sep 2015, 12:25 PM | Message # 12 |
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Ensign
Group: Users
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| A handful of the X-Wings had their shields quickly reduce in strength from the fire from the near hits by the turbolasers and the incoming fire from the Arrowheads. Their double-front sets held however, and they continued on their course, and once in firing range, each laid a five-second burst of fire into their targeted Arrowhead, keeping as head on with the craft as possible; it was enough take down shields if not destroy a few of the incoming craft. After this salvo of fire from the X-Wings, they would break from their head on flight path with the Arrowheads, and go evasive, hoping to avoid any kamikazee attacks and to enter a dogfight with the remaining craft. Added (21 Sep 2015, 12:25 PM)
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((It's been thirteen days. All players have had four days to make a post.))
The Arrowhead-class was an advanced craft developed to address the weaknesses of droid fighters. But they were a decade old, and no longer advanced, and only as good as the code that was written in them. The problem with droid fighters is that they never improved, not without updates and upgrades anyways. A sentient pilot was able to adapt and overcome, improve, learn. It was why the Republic was able to beat the swarms of droid starfighters thrown at them during the Clone Wars, and it was why the Rebel pilots would prevail today. They were flying what was perhaps the most advanced and combat capable starfighter in the galaxy at the moment. Ten of the Arrowheads were destroyed, and the Rebels would continue to whittle down their number as they flew, double-teaming as they were freed up against their foe in a dogfight that included the occasional turbolaser blast. At this point they had evened out their shields, and the chaotic flying of a mid-altitude dogfight would make it difficult for the turbolasers to lock onto any one target. Meanwhile, Senator Cambrist's shuttle was ignored and allowed to escape the moon freely.
Captain Tiron Suul
Alliance Starfighter Corps
Commanding Officer, Outlaw Squadron
Captain of the Firewalker
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| Secretary_Crion | Date: Monday, 21 Sep 2015, 12:34 PM | Message # 13 |
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Trainee
Group: Users
Messages: 7
Status: Offline
| The All Stars Burn As One escaped away from the estate largely unscathed and now ignored by the defense towers. At full speed it speed towards the other side of the moon. It took only a few minutes for the ship to be propelled well away from the estate. Not truly the other side of the moon, they nonetheless began scanning for landing zones. The captain was uncomfortable with Crion travelling in any craft that was not this very ship, and perhaps rightfully so. In his position, the threat of assassination was very real.
When he received landing coordinated from the captain, it was a relieving sensation that coursed through his body. It took only a matter of minutes for him to join them. He quickly disembarked from Cambrist's old shuttle and donned a life support mask he had tucked away into the robes that went over his suit. Once the ramp to the shuttle was open and the bulkhead opened, he sprinted to the landing ramp of the All Stars Burn As One. Once inside the bulkhead slammed shut immediately. Ten seconds of exposure would be something he would have to be treated for. He felt the exposed skin of his neck burning the moment he entered the atmosphere of the ship, frostbite setting in almost immediately. He was greeted by a medic who applied a bacta salve. He would have to go into a tank later.
Once the boarding ramp was closed, the All Stars Burn As One took off from its landing site. It proceeded through the atmosphere of the moon to the far side, where it would eventually cruise into open space once more once reaching the far side, setting the entire moon between it and the Praetor.
Mical Léo Crion
Secretary of the Cabinet
Owner, Château Hiver Rivière (suspended)
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