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Sithspawn
Summary

Sithspawn is an intermediate to advanced play-by-post role-playing forum. Set in the immensely rich Star Wars universe, the game takes place some years after 3,000 Before Battle of Yavin. For more information on the Timeline, History and events on Sithspawn please browse the links under Navigation.

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Timeline year: 305 ARE
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Reports coming from Coruscant show a marked increase in crime statistics, specifically vigilante justice. The Judges are cracking down on the vigilante groups but have so far been unsuccessful.
---
According to Confederation sources the Jedi Order has joined the conflict on the side of the terrorist organisation calling itself the Alliance of Free Planets, declaring war on the Confederation of Dolomar. The Confederation openly condemned this move by the former peacekeeping group, one representative going so far as accusing them of indoctrination of the youth and fearmongering.
---
The galactic superstar Mystiq Venus had her recent album 'Tangerine Kisses' go platinum. In celebration of this tremendous success Venus is planning on launching a tour through the Core, Inner, and Mid Rims to thank her fans for their dedication. A percentage of the proceeds will be given to The Norman and Valzeek Charity for Wartime Orphans.

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Attention new members! Due to a very persistent set of spammers insistent on selling us kitchens, all new members from now on cannot start new threads. If you're not a spambot, just shoot Wes Loran a PM and you'll be given access to posting new threads.

Thank you for your patience! -Indy (16.08.2014)

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 That's What People Do, [Fish Mission] Attn: Renegade Squadron
Constance Bravil
Posted: Jun 29 2009, 06:28 AM
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Zakkeg
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Group: Confederation
Posts: 438
Member No.: 443
Joined: 13-August 08



Fourteen years had passed since the woman now known as Constance Bravil last set foot on Denon. The landscape remained almost identical to how she remembered it; old buildings were torn down to make way for newer and taller ones, but one ecumenopolis was very much like the next. Sentients ebbed and flowed with the tides of work shifts, ate, slept, screwed, then did it all over again the next day, blurring into the next. Patterns of traffic shifted, advertising campaigns clashed then vanished, fads came and went, but nothing truly important ever changed in the planet-wide city.

Conner, on the other hand, had changed quite a bit in between visits. The slicer had been replaced by the soldier, the earnest young woman by the hardened and pragmatic spy. When last she was here, she'd been paying a visit to the central Alliance cell to help them tease apart a particularly difficult batch of Confederate cryptograms. Now she was here to infiltrate and destroy one of her true faction's strongholds. The irony was so strong she could taste it, sharp and metallic in the back of her throat. The flavor almost drowned out the bile that rose in her gullet at the knowledge she was about to do Dolomar's dirty work yet again.

Personal discomforts were of little consequence though. She had a job to do, and duties to perform on both sides of the fence. Nothing else mattered in there here and now. Later could take care of itself. Preferably after she was dead, when guilt couldn't plague her anymore.

My, aren't we feeling fatalistic tonight? The maze of shadowed alleyways that was the 'surface' level of one the industrial megablocks on Denon's nightside lent itself well to such dark musings. They were almost at the mission objective, however, so Conner decided it was time to shut down the source of editorial comments in her brain. Distractions on their Commander's part did her fellow Renegades a disservice. There were four other lives on her conscience, and despite the topsy-turvy nature of her allegiances she wasn't about to let any of them get hurt on her watch.

The plan was simple, leaving ample room for alteration as circumstance necessitated. Conner and Trigger were the ones best trained in the use of stealth, so the two of them would take care of opening the way for the rest of the squadron to follow. Once inside the factory, they'd hunt down the mainframe for the complex and buy Urbane the time she needed to suck the system dry of all the implicating data the Confederation needed. Then for the grand finale, Frag would set the whole place to blow (hopefully) after they made their escape.

Of course, no battle plan ever survived contact with the enemy intact, but that was no reason not to have one. If events went down the 'fresher in a hurry, Conner had no qualms about calling off the strike and pulling out if it meant preserving the lives of her people. The brass might not have a problem with treating the lower ranks as cannon fodder, but she fracking well did. The Wing Commander dearly hoped Thumper's unofficial status as the squadron's medic wouldn't be called upon today, but in a pinch she knew he'd switch out from providing fire support.

Once again, black was the order of the day, though this time it came in the form of reinforced ballistic cloth and metal plates. For months at a time the suit of standard issue Confederate armor gathered dust in her closet, but ground missions gave her reason to pull it out of storage. Conner might occasionally wonder if the wages of sin were indeed death, but that didn't mean she was actually kriffing suicidal.


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Algy Trellian
Posted: Jun 30 2009, 04:06 PM
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Shyrack
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Group: Confederation
Posts: 172
Member No.: 90
Joined: 8-January 08



Denon was a planet Algy hadn’t frequented in his life, nor paid attention to. As far as flora and fauna went, it was much like Coruscant. Not that thrilling for one such as he. Endless cityscapes struck him as a waste. Artificial beauty would never beat the natural beauty, at least not in Algy’s mind. It was much more befitting if there was a balance between the urban landscape and the wilderness of nature. Planets like Denon and Taris held no appeal to Algy, mostly because the crime rate tended to be higher than it should be. As a former enforcement officer, Algy was always negative towards such things, but as far as crime went, Algy didn’t have a clean name. While the Confederation couldn’t be compared to the Hutt Cartels, they weren’t exactly clean.

Turning his gaze away from the tall buildings looming over the group that sat there in the dark, Algy let his eyes look over the team they had assembled. Everyone looked dressed for the job as they lurked in the dark, awaiting the commencement of the mission. As far as he understood, Conner and he would go first, paving the way for the others. Conner was the only one who seemed to have much skill in the act of sneaking around, why she did was a question Algy had never asked. Algy was second in the group to her, but even he knew very little of it. Mostly just things learnt instinctively through his hundred and seventeen years of living and working to quietly root out crime and subterfuge.

Leaning against the duracrete wall behind him, he let his hands run over his toolbelt, feeling his Enforcer in the holster, a weapon he would hopefully not have to use, and the Controller FP hanging from its hook. In his boot he held the vibroknife, which he only barely ghosted over when he leaned down to check it. He smoothed his left hand over his right wrist, feeling the Dur-24 wrist laser resting there ready for use. He was armed and ready for whatever would come. While he was a man who thoroughly enjoyed being a pilot, his main skills remained within the grunt work that soldiers and commandos found themselves doing.

His examination of his equipment done, he pushed off from the wall, going to stand by Conner. Conner would recognise the move as what it was, Algy displaying impatience to get going on the mission. He didn’t like idling when they could be underway doing the tasks they were assigned. He wasn’t eager to do the Confederations dirty work, but someone had to do it and if they didn’t, it indicated failure on their part. Algy didn’t like failure in any shape or form.

At the moment they were hiding in the shadow of the buildings around them, just a few buildings away from their target. It was short work to cross the distance to the building. They’d scouted out the place earlier on, finding the viable entrance points as well as taking into account the reports from the last mission that failed to get the job done. A frown graced Algy’s face as his thoughts momentarily reverted to Lelouch Villa, his eyes narrowing dangerously. The moment passed and Algy rolled his shoulders slightly, looking at Conner


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Name: Algernon Hebblethwaite Trellian [BANK]
Nicknames: Algy, Hebble
Gender: Male
Age: 117
Species: Morellian
Birthplanet: Morellia
Ship: Navarone; MC18 light freighter

Faction: Confederation of Dolomar
Rank: Wing Commander
Squadron: Renegade Squadron
Callsign: Trigger
Class: Pilot/Soldier/Mechanic/Scholar

Inventory:
  • Morellian .48 Enforcer
  • BlasTech light repeating blaster
  • Controller FP (extendable)
  • Dur-24 wrist laser
  • Vibroknife
  • TD2.3 Electrobinoculars
  • Baragwin Stealth Unit
  • R3 unit 'Ginger'
  • PAC20
  • Toolbelt
  • Grappling spike launcher
  • Standard Issue Confederate Armor
  • Medpac
  • Rope (10m)
  • Ruusan Bat, Biggles

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Mercury Flux
Posted: Jul 1 2009, 04:00 PM
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Silently a foot tapped the ground, up down, rhythmic beats. The tempo was quick, mirroring the heart that pounded viciously within the Lorrdian's chest. It was a mixture of nerves and excitement all coming out in this erratic motion. He wasn't worry, not about the nerves, it was more a case that he cared so much about the mission that he was anxious to get everything right. It happened all the time for him, before space battles as well as ground assaults. A part of him worried when he wasn't feeling some kind of anxiety for the situation, because it often resulted in him coming out flat. That couldn't happen, especially not now; this was much too important and much too dangerous a position to be in for Thumper to falter. That said, the Lorrdian wasn't thrilled about the prospect of killing. Being realistic he knew people were going to die, and the best he could hope for was that it didn't turn into a bloodbath, and that the Renegades came out healthy at the end. These were terrorists, he had to remind himself, and the enemies of the Confederation. When up in space, high above planets and absorbed in the dark veil these were the people that were shooting at him. It was easy to detach himself from those grey specks on the black canvas, but inside those cockpits were real people, people like those inside the base.

He looked around at his teammates. There were only two others here -- Shaine and Hadrian -- since Conner and Algy had gone ahead to make sure their way in was clear. It was important that they got to a terminal to extract information on the bases activities, find some incriminating evidence and then went about disabling it. The first part would be up to Shaine, her slicing skills exceeding all others in the group. It was her time to shine, being given such a great responsibility in trying circumstances. Mercury was sure she wouldn't allow her personal feelings to inhibit her professional abilities, because with such a small group it was highly likely that at some point she'd be working with Hadrian, who would be taking the lead in the second part of the mission. Demolitions were the man's life, not just his occupation within the team. He was probably itching to get going, to plant some explosives and see the fireworks fly into the Denon sky. Thumper was always weary about the man's relationship with death, but there was no denying that he could be trusted to carry out all the duties being a Renegade required of him. Even if they didn't get along outside the team, within it they would both do everything needed to aid each other in the mission, because that's what a Renegade did.

Dark eyes returned to the scene before him. The Lorrdian couldn't make out anything in the dark passageways that they inhabited, waiting patiently in the shadows for the call that all was clear. Conner and Algy weren't too far, but even so it made Mercury fidgety. It was bad enough there were so few of them, even if that aided their purpose, but to be separate was like having an itch he couldn't scratch. They'd be fine, yes, he knew that, but still . . . He wanted to get going. The waiting was the hardest part. Once his mind got occupied with what he had to do, keeping alert for others things then the Lorrdian would be fine. He'd slip back into that concentrated mindset that he got into during moments of danger and go about his busy using the training provided him.

Simply to pass the time he ran his hands over his weapons, checking that they were loaded, primed and that his ammunition was easily within reach. Virboknife sat snugly in its sheath by his side, pistol cradled in the holster. Plenty of grenades were accessible too, and Mercury was sure he'd need them. But not only did he carry dealers of death, but items to preserve life. If one of them got shot it would be catastrophic, because there were few enough of them as it was. Having to carry around an injured person would slow them down, and when in enemy territory that wasn't an ideal thing. He'd brought them along simply because someone needed to. The others had their roles; demolitions, slicing, subterfuge, whatever it may be. Thumper's role was simply to fill in where someone needed him to. This time he was the temporary medic, the next time who knows? Adapting was what he did.

With a simple glance he took in the other two on either side of him. There was no reason to, other than the fact Mercury wanted to make sure they were just as focused as he was. It was silly, they would be, but it took up time, which currently he had plenty of. The tapping grew faster, more violent; gosh, he hated waiting.
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Shaine Gonnin
Posted: Jul 2 2009, 09:18 AM
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Mynock
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Group: Inactive
Posts: 58
Member No.: 454
Joined: 29-August 08



As far as hypocrisy went, Constance had probably taken a class or two during her spare time. As in most branches of the armed forces, inter-squad fraternization was severely frowned upon by one's direct superior; this had likely been the cause of the boss's meltdown during their last get-together. The most obvious reason for such a disposition held true to the Confederation's unwritten and easily misinterpreted fundamentals, where it was generally believed that strong emotions, comradeship notwithstanding, led to psychological attachments, which never ended well in the long haul. As far as Shaine knew, the Confederation leadership did not believe in grief counseling as a method of healing the traumatic experience of losing one's close friend, lover, or intimate companion to the brutal rise and fall of wartime. However, due to Gonnin's near cult-like following of the mass media, she couldn't help but take note of Constance and Hadrian's recent appearance on the Holonet. Tsk tsk.

While it was true that Gonnin was fond of most of her squadmates, the thought ran through her head as she threw a seething glare in Frag's direction, experience had taught her that they were all considered little more than expendable resources. With the Confederation's territories expanding day by day, it was becoming laughably easy to train new pilots and manufacture new starfighters. A squadron's only insurance these days was to watch each other's backs and perform to the best of their capabilities. And as a result, Shaine figured Renegade Squadron was one of the most secure, professional, and inexpendable military units to be found within the known galaxy.

Silently, she reviewed the mission parameters for the umpteenth time: fight/blast/sneak their way into a factory intelligence claimed had been providing rebels with large quantities of proton torpedoes, find information to support intel's assumptions, and blow the factory into Denon's orbit. On paper, it would have looked quite simple, but the squad knew better than that.

As the unit's most capable slicer, it was Shaine's role to tap into the network and carry out the necessary information. As on Coruscant, Axxila, Nar Shaddaa, or any number of ecumenopoli, the government of Denon was forced to maintain a massive database of information stores, cataloging everything from a ship's cargo manifest to what the regional governor had for breakfast that day. She figured that the process of procuring the needed data would be simple if she could find a way to manipulate the mainframe for their current district.

She was, by her own will, more lightly armed than the rest of her flight, choosing instead to carry tools needed in her trade. A blaster carbine, a pistol, and a knife hung on her belt alongside various tools and instruments of various uses. As she shifted impatiently from one leg to the other, the tools clinked and clattered against each other, and would surely ruin any attempt at a stealthy approach. She peered down at the R6-series idling quietly beside her, a black and yellow model aptly named "Benign". In recognition of hardships ahead, Gonnin had brought him along as an afterthought. The odds were stacked against the expectation that all of Renegade Squadron would make it out of the factory alive, and she intended to hide a backup of the downloads within the astromech's memory core.

Now if Conner and the old man would just hurry the frack up...


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Name: Shaine Gonnin
Nicknames: "Urbane", Renegade Four
Gender: Female
Age: 37
Species: Human
Birthplanet: Kuat
Ship:
-Gonnin Sixty Seconds, XS stock light freighter (Modifications: Ax-108 "Ground Buzzer"(x2), Ion cannon (x2), Caltrop-5 chaff gun, ST2 concussion missile rack, ST2 concussion missile (x4))
-Slave circuit
-Second-degree droid AI
-74-Z Speeder Bike
-Holonet transceiver

Faction: Confederation of Dolomar
Rank: Flight Lieutenant (Renegade Squadron)

Inventory:
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Hadrian Locke
Posted: Jul 14 2009, 10:17 PM
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Gonnin was glaring, which was nothing unusual in and of itself. Really, you’d think he’d poured a glass of ice-cold water on her in a public outing, the misanthrope reflected as he sent a vicious smirk in her direction, raising an eyebrow. If Urbane wanted to make a dent in his behaviour, she’d have to do a little more than sulk in a corner and glower – until the he’d treat her as the brat she was acting like. Dismissing the Kuati and the bag of unpleasantness that accompanied her, the green-eyed soldier focused on checking his equipment for a last time. The sheathed vibroknife under his right arm was of the same black as his clothes, fading in the cloth and easy to reach for when he’d need it. Because there was no doubt in the Coruscanti’s mind he’d need it before all was said and done.

Missions like these always went down to hell, it was a stardamned rule. As it was, Frag had nothing against overwhelming odds and almost certain doom – he thrived in those situations, when chaos and madness swirled and the cards were all down. The only plan he needed came in the form of the fragmentation grenade strapped near his left kidney, though he would have been more at ease if he’d been able to bring a rocket launcher: nothing like a few missiles to make Rebels understand who was on top of the food chain. Fingers stroked the holstered EE-3 Carbine rifle at his hip, while he threw a quick glance at his comrades. Shaine was still doing her thundercloud impression, hovering near an ugly black and yellow droid that looked like an overgrown bumblebee on glittersim. Mercury’s foot was engaged in a raging duel against the ground, tapping in what appeared to be impatience.

“I thought being edgy was my thing?” he whispered to the Lorrdian, showing his back to Shine with only the greatest reluctance – he still remembered the places her hands had strayed to the last time they’d been in close proximity.

Hadrian was a bastard, that much was a fact, but if drawing the dark-skinned man’s irritation distracted him from stressing over the mission so much the better. If it failed, well, there were very few things he enjoyed as much as taunting people. His hand strayed to the cigarra pack that was inevitably in his pocket, somewhat irked he couldn’t risk lighting it – the flame might draw attention and screw up Algernon and Constance’s sneaking around. Frag hated creep missions, they went against his way of fighting. Subtlety was for those who treaded lightly in the porcelain house – the first thing Hadrian did in said house was toss a sonic grenade. No need to go around the enemy defences if they were a fuming wreck.

Turning his eyes to the darkness, the misanthrope tried to catch the dark silhouettes of his companions playing in the wolf’s den. His eyes unconsciously sought the shape of Conner over that of Algernon, though he realized that fact only a second later – it prompted him to shift uneasily, irritated at himself. He’d never been worried about the Commander’s safety in those things before, if he was going to become a kriffing mother hen he might as well bite a bullet now and spare himself the indignity. Besides, Algernon hadn’t survived so long by being reckless or stupid – the Morellian wouldn’t let the advanced party get into any funny business. Passing a hand through his blond hair, the pilot waited for the signal with surprising patience. Death would start flying around soon enough, there was no need to hurry.
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Constance Bravil
Posted: Jul 20 2009, 08:40 AM
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Zakkeg
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Group: Confederation
Posts: 438
Member No.: 443
Joined: 13-August 08



Nearby movement drew Conner's attention, gray eyes shifting away from their target and locking onto the man coming up to stand besides her. That Algy would be impatient to get underway didn't surprise her in the slightest. He wasn't a 'stand idle' sort of individual any more than Constance was. Neither of them liked wasting time, and both of them held a near-allergic reaction to the very concept of personal failure--two of the many reasons why they'd always gotten along as smashingly as they did.

She'd worried for a brief while, following her mourning-induced overindulgence in alcohol, that the tenor of their relationship would change. While her memories of the evening were admittedly rather blurred around the edges, Conner recalled enough pertinent data to have cause for concern. Algernon knew she was Corellian; that much he'd made plain before she'd fallen unconscious. More importantly, he knew she'd been lying through her teeth about her point of origin to everyone for the past eleven years. Ever since that night, the spy had braced herself for the worst.

So far though, he'd treated her no differently for having his suspicions confirmed. Nor had he attempted to broach the dangerous subject since then. Bless him for that. If anyone had to know some small fragment of the truth about her, Constance was grateful it was him. She hadn't been babbling drunken nonsense when she'd told the Morellian he was the best friend she'd ever had. That he appeared willing to forgive her ongoing deception gave Angler the first hope of redemption she'd allowed herself in a long time.

Shunting such personal concerns aside for now, Commander Bravil turned her attention back to the building they were set to infiltrate. She wasn't making her XO wait out of concern for his health, after all; she had a reason for lingering here yet. A perimeter patrol made its way around the manufacturing facility at regular intervals, and she intended to time their insertion during the period where said patrol was at its farthest distance from them. As she watched, a guard dressed in a nondescript brown jumpsuit rounded the corner into view and exchanged greetings with his two compatriots watching the back door. Conner initiated a countdown in the back of her mind.

The half-intelligible sound of a whisper caught at her ears, and her head swiveled around in order to consider the other three Renegades standing a short distance apart at her rear. The sight of Mercury's booted foot tapping out the tempo of his anxieties against the pavement would've brought a fond smile to Constance's lips were she not immersed in 'command mode' at present. She knew better than to think the Lorrdian's nervous habit a sign of true fear; cowards didn't survive long in a fighter squadron. Thumper worried because he cared so much about his squadmates, not because he was wrestling down the urge to cut and run. Why a man with such a gentle heart had chosen the life of a starfighter pilot remained an enigma to her.

As for Shaine, Conner swore the squadron's slicer hadn't traded out facial expressions for several weeks now. More than once the Corellian had resisted the urge to pass along the advice of frustrated mothers everywhere--"If you keep making that face it'll get stuck that way!"--in hopes Urbane would stop glaring daggers into Frag's back every chance she got. Not that Constance didn't understand the Kuati's antagonism towards the misanthrope. He'd humiliated her but good, and the fact she'd invited the abuse by crossing the line of acceptable behavior first wouldn't make her injured pride smart any less. That said, Shaine ought to have realized by now all her pouting and posturing produced zero effect on the target of her displeasure.

To make matters worse, the Wing Commander had noticed Gonnin aiming the evil eye at her CO whenever the Flight Officer thought she wasn't paying attention. Conner understood that too, much as she'd like to pretend otherwise. Kriffing nosy press sharks... Constance possessed a thicker skin than most, so all the good-natured ribbing she'd been subjected to since the footage of her in that bloody dress had entered the Confederate rumor mill didn't bother her overmuch. However, the hints of jealousy Shaine kept dropping like vials of high molar acid across her path threatened to make for a bumpy trip further down the road. Stars, don't let it become an issue tonight. We don't need the distraction.

And then there was the fifth member of the Renegade strike team to consider. To her credit, Conner hadn't avoided the source of her secret frustrations since Coruscant. How she behaved towards him while they were both on duty hadn't altered one iota. Nor did she shun him off the clock; it wasn't his frinking fault she'd found herself entertaining unprofessional thoughts about him, after all. However, said unprofessional thoughts did mean she went out of her way at times to prevent being alone with him. It was far easier to suppress the temptations of her lower impulses in front of a potential audience.

Something else she'd found herself needing to be mindful of was the annoying tendency her gaze had to linger on him at times. It happened again when her eyes automatically followed the motion of Hadrian's hand towards his chest pocket in search of his seemingly never ending supply of cigarras. The instant she found her attentions sliding upwards to travel the breadth of his shoulders, Constance deliberately turned her head away in order to put the source of distraction out of her field of vision.

The slip had lasted less than a second, not nearly long enough for anyone who wasn't a nosy Jedi reading her thoughts to notice. There'd been no change in her expression to reveal where the woman's mind had gone. She castigated herself for it all the same. Dammit, I know better than this!

Fortunately for Conner's sanity, the time had arrived to strike at last. Nothing like a good bout of deadly combat to purge the brain of problematic notions. Catching Algy's eyes with her own, she gave him a small nod. One hand gestured in the air towards the other three Renegades in the signal for 'Wait', while the other reached for the stealth field unit latched to her belt. Her form blurred, becoming insubstantial as a heat shimmer within the space of her first step out of the alleyway. By the second silent stride, she'd vanished entirely from view.

Sneaking around this way wasn't Commander Bravil's strongest suit, but she'd received sufficient training in stealth for it to remain a viable tactical option. Making their way through the open spaces towards the building and their soon-to-be victims required focus and careful movement; challenging, but nothing she and Algernon couldn't manage. Again Conner ticked off seconds in her head, an estimate for how long her wingman would require to get into position. If she struck her target before he was ready, they'd give the second guard time to fire off some shots, trigger an alarm, call for help, any number of things that would spell doom for their plan.

By slow increments Constance brought herself behind her assigned opponent. Lowering herself into an Echani battle stance, she waited out the last few seconds by visualizing her planned attack. There could be no margin for error; she had to take him out in the first blow to pave the way for a clean insertion. She wouldn't let her people down. Showtime. Sidestepping forward to gather momentum, Conner hiked up one knee, then pivoted her upper body away from her target while swinging her booted heel around to slam hard as she could at the vulnerable spot where the back of the guard's skull met his neck.

(( Do Conner and Algy take out the guards all quiet-like? ))


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Xira Stone
Posted: Jul 23 2009, 04:21 PM
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Bantha Fodder
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Group: Dead
Posts: 0
Member No.: 92
Joined: 26-January 08



(( Both guards are caught entirely off guard by the cloaked Confederates, and Conner and Algy make short work of their targets. Neither have an opportunity to sound an alarm; but that doesn't mean that no one will come looking for them after a while when they don't report in. Time will not likely prove the Confederates' friend for this mission. ))


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Name: Xira Stone
Gender: Female
Age: 47
Species: Human
Birthplanet: Dolomar
Ship: Atonement, Super Star Destroyer

Faction: Confederation
Rank: Grand Admiral

Inventory:
  • Two WESTAR-34 blaster pistols
  • Kylan-3 Heavy Blaster Pistol
  • ACP Array Gun
  • Agonizer-6 nerve disruptor
  • Spider-silk Armour (Confederation naval uniform)
  • Spider-silk Armour (civilian clothes)
  • Identification (not always on person)
  • Comlink

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Algy Trellian
Posted: Jul 29 2009, 10:51 AM
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Shyrack
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Group: Confederation
Posts: 172
Member No.: 90
Joined: 8-January 08



Thankfully unaware of the feelings of resentment Shaine was harbouring and the general mood around their comrades, Algy shot Conner a slight rueful grin. He knew that impatience was unbecoming, but he was unable to bring himself to muffle it for now. Too much would be happening tonight for him to merely shove it down and sit still. Additionally, Algy was not a man who made a habit out of the cloak and dagger gig they were undergoing. While he was no stranger to it, it wasn’t his preferred tactic against his enemies. Facing the Alliance in the cockpit was what he preferred; not minding a scuffle on the ground now and again, but this was very different from that sort. Considering the stealth they would adopt for the initial starting plan, Algy was starting to feel more like an Intelligence operative than a fighter pilot. This sort wasn’t unheard of for the Renegades of course; they were used often on commando style missions, all of them held skills that were useful on ground operations. There was always something beyond the pilot when it came to a Renegade.

While Conner found herself musing over the situation she’d gotten herself into back in her apartment in Diflu, which was furthest from Algy’s mind at that moment. He’d suspected for a long time that she was Corellian, the telltale signs that came occasionally and matched up to a pattern had made him aware of it. As a former law enforcement officer, used to dealing with the dodgy denizens of the galaxy, he was used to picking up peculiar behavioural mannerisms and put a pattern to them. It had been no simple task when it came to Conner however, as he’d spent years piecing the small fact of her origin together. She was very good at keeping it hidden, in one isolated incident it would be impossible to figure it out, but considering the years Algy had known her and the fact that he’d worked with her closely in the years they both had served, he’d had the time and opportunity to realise the pattern.

As it was, leaving that particular stone unturned for now would be best for the mission and their general health. Conner’s behaviour when he’d faintly suggested he knew of her real heritage had elicited quite a response and while he was sure she wouldn’t shoot to kill, he wasn’t so sure if she’d refrain from shooting at all, if only to warn him off. If there was one thing Algy had learnt through the years, it was how to stay away from getting shot, he’d have to if he wanted to survive for a bit longer.

Oblivious to his commander’s musings on their fellow Renegades, Algy’s eyes remained steadfast on the door they had chosen as their entrance point. A motion to his side made his gaze turn to Conner, seeing her nod and knowing it was time to move. In unison with the Wing Commander, he reached towards his belt and activated the stealth unit, shimmer out of view just as Conner disappeared as well. He followed her cautiously, mindful that while he could not be seen by the casual eye, anyone overly mindful could still spot them and anyone could hear sounds if they were loud enough.

He followed her closely, using their pre-planned path as a guide to where she was most likely to be as well as keeping an eye out for the telltale shimmer of someone stealthed as Conner moved. Parting from her as they came closer to their targets, going for the second guard while she went for the first, Algy approached cautiously and flexed his hands in preparation for the attack. He heard more than saw Conner attacking, but the moment she did he attacked himself. Rather than picking an actual combat form, he merely forcefully grabbed the head of the guard and slammed him into the wall, the sudden limpness telling him the guard was knocked out. Carefully Algy lowered the man to the ground and began rifling through his pockets, giving the guard Conner had knocked out the same treatment.

((What does Algy find on the bodies?))


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Name: Algernon Hebblethwaite Trellian [BANK]
Nicknames: Algy, Hebble
Gender: Male
Age: 117
Species: Morellian
Birthplanet: Morellia
Ship: Navarone; MC18 light freighter

Faction: Confederation of Dolomar
Rank: Wing Commander
Squadron: Renegade Squadron
Callsign: Trigger
Class: Pilot/Soldier/Mechanic/Scholar

Inventory:
  • Morellian .48 Enforcer
  • BlasTech light repeating blaster
  • Controller FP (extendable)
  • Dur-24 wrist laser
  • Vibroknife
  • TD2.3 Electrobinoculars
  • Baragwin Stealth Unit
  • R3 unit 'Ginger'
  • PAC20
  • Toolbelt
  • Grappling spike launcher
  • Standard Issue Confederate Armor
  • Medpac
  • Rope (10m)
  • Ruusan Bat, Biggles

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Xira Stone
Posted: Jul 29 2009, 04:15 PM
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Group: Dead
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Member No.: 92
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(( Aside from a few knick-knacks like dice to while away their off hours, the only things Algy finds on the guards' bodies are C1 personal comlinks and electronic datacards. The latter will likely gain them access to other parts of the factory at large. ))


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Name: Xira Stone
Gender: Female
Age: 47
Species: Human
Birthplanet: Dolomar
Ship: Atonement, Super Star Destroyer

Faction: Confederation
Rank: Grand Admiral

Inventory:
  • Two WESTAR-34 blaster pistols
  • Kylan-3 Heavy Blaster Pistol
  • ACP Array Gun
  • Agonizer-6 nerve disruptor
  • Spider-silk Armour (Confederation naval uniform)
  • Spider-silk Armour (civilian clothes)
  • Identification (not always on person)
  • Comlink

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Mercury Flux
Posted: Jul 31 2009, 04:27 PM
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Bleak black eyes continued to peer out into the darkness, tracking the movements of his CO and XO in the distance. Every shuffle of their body, every arm that shifted to recheck weapons; he caught them all and performed involuntarily analysis. As with Mercury the waiting was playing havoc with Algy, though the dread-headed makeshift medic had no idea whether it was for the same reasons. So long as he thought of those people inside as enemies it was fine, but when a human face was applied the task got a hundred times harder. Danger would be his friend though; the will to survive overrode every ounce of morality, as disgusting as that sounded. When the bullets were flying Thumper knew his loyalties, and he knew whose deaths would hurt him most. Resistance of any kind would be put down with every measure taken to ensure the safety of the squadron and the success of the mission. That came first not only to the Confederate in him, but the friendly Lorrdian too. Everyone would perform; he was sure of that. Even with most of them acting agitated by the wait no one would break formation and put the others into unnecessary danger.

Once more he went over his weapons, mostly the Corellian Destroyer in his hands. The thing would provide ample cover should a firefight ensue inside the facility. It's damage output was enough to level a man, and at a decent distance too. Hopefully though it wouldn't come to that, because blaster fire would inevitably mean the mission was going askew and extraction became a necessity. If nothing out of the ordinary happened, Mercury was sure that by the time they were discovered everything would be in place and they'd be on their way out. Shaine would work her magic with computers, and Hadrian would artfully light up the sky with several differing composites of explosives. Mercury needed to make sure that both had the time afforded to them to work, and Lorrd damn it no one was going to die.

“I thought being edgy was my thing?”

Not even Hadrian was going to die, though there were plenty of ways to get hurt and not die; Mercury couldn't halt blaster bolts now, could he? But no, even the vicious Coruscanti would be looked after with the same vigour as the others, because for all his faults the man was still a Renegade. Thumper tried to think of him as that older brother so many people told him about in the cantina, the one that used to poke and prod them and generally be an annoyance. The Lorrdian often wanted to punch him in the jaw to make him shut up but never did because, at the end of the day, he was just as much family as the rest. That said, it took some restraint not to retort with what Mercury believed was Hadrian's 'thing'. The list of expletives were longer than either of the lieutenant's arms, and would likely take far too long to recite now. Save the fighting for the enemy.

"Lets not get into what your thing is,"

It was impossible not to shoot Shaine a glancing look, one that wondered whether she'd take that the wrong way. The phrase could easily be misconstrued, and while that didn't bother the Lorrdian in regards to Hadrian -- it would actually be quite a nice little snip -- bringing the subject up wasn't likely to go down well with Urbane. As if it wasn't hard enough for her to work alongside Hadrian, bringing up something else heated between them wasn't going to make things better, but they were on a mission and once they started moving again they'd both better have the right heads on. Stupid behaviour wasn't going to be tolerated, not when they were heading into dangerous territory for a vital hit. If they needed to say something then they'd have plenty of time on the flight home; it wasn't like they could never find one another. Those problems needed to be dealt with outside the Renegades, having nothing to do with military matters. The squadron wasn't some primary school playground where rumours of who held whose hand went around, and quite frankly Mercury wasn't impressed with the image Conner had put out. Scorning wasn't his gig though, and mistakes happened everywhere. He was just praying that was all it was; that this behaviour wasn't the new thing.

She disappeared from his sight as the stealth suits were activated, with Algy soon following. There were moments of complete silence that struck right to the Lorrdian's heart before the two guards violently shook and collapsed, and the figures of Conner and Algy appeared for moments before shimmering away again. Items were pulled free from the pockets and Mercury took this as the signal to move forward in support. Words weren't needed to express the order, because the other two were probably keenly watching just as Thumper had been, and even if they hadn't the movement of the Lorrdian would pull their attention for sure. If one of them moved, they all moved. He did his best to keep his footsteps low in volume -- just in case any other guards were listening out for telltale signs of unauthorised persons about -- but balanced it with the need to move fast. His rifle was raised in a stand by position, prepared to be lifted and shot should danger be seen. The mission had finally, truly begun. Stopping by the bodies of the guards the Lorrdian scanned the surrounding area, waiting for the doors to be opened either by a keycard or Shaine.
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Shaine Gonnin
Posted: Aug 4 2009, 09:11 PM
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Mynock
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I thought being edgy was my thing?

"Lets not get into what your thing is."

"Yes, and should we find any disease-ridden whores during our stay here, I'm sure you'll perform spectacularly," she shot at Hadrian before turning back to watch the magic unfold.

The factory itself was rather straightforward, a gray pyramid of sorts that appeared to have held the weight of a Star Destroyer several times over, a few tiers sinking into the one below. It hadn't seen maintenance crews in perhaps over a decade, and the planet's grime and smog had taken its toll. Several floors up, a few windows had been broken, perhaps by a strong wind shear, or perhaps by vandals or blind hawk-bats. Regardless, they'd been patched with plywood and dermaseal, probably more for comfort than protection. At the pinnacle of the pyramid, a trio of smokestacks did their best to out-pollute each other, particles of thick brown vapor rising into the atmosphere.

The entrance was a bit more complex, it appeared. A pair of tri-folding steel doors, hinged inside the makeshift fortress, riveted and scuffed in numerous places from the scouring wind. A panel to one side proved that entry could be attained with the proper keycard, but Shaine was willing to bet that there were other countermeasures, given that this place frequented supplies to rebels and the like. It wouldn't be quite as easy as ringing the neighbor's doorbell with baked goods in hand, but the Renegades had made a habit out of surmounting the impossible.

She watched Conner and Algy make quick work of the guards, looting a few odds-and-ends from their persons. One, she saw, was a keycard, something that could potentially help them gain entrance, but Gonnin doubted that it was this simple. The panel could also require a retinal scan, or a thumbprint, or a strand of hair, or voice-recognition, or any of a dozen other security measures she'd seen before. Stepping forward with her wingmate, the droid rolling along behind, she lifted the card from Trigger's outstretched hand and headed to the doorway.

Upon close examination, Shaine found that a portion of the panel was opaque, perhaps a spot for a fingerprint scanner, or perhaps to cause an uncertain intruder to assume such. On the right side, opposite the door, the panel housed a small slot, looking much like a card reader. Below this, a pair of lights, one currently flashing red, the other unlit, and a small interface nozzle for secondary maintenance. This would help in the event that the card did not assist, as standard R6-series astromechs came outfitted with an extendable interface appendage.

Drawing her shatter gun, and keeping half an eye on the door, Shaine squatted on her haunches and slid the card into the aforementioned slot, prepared to move quickly in the event of a security breach or an extravagant countermeasure.

((Is the entry as simple as this, or will Shaine be required to hack into the panel?))


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user posted image


Name: Shaine Gonnin
Nicknames: "Urbane", Renegade Four
Gender: Female
Age: 37
Species: Human
Birthplanet: Kuat
Ship:
-Gonnin Sixty Seconds, XS stock light freighter (Modifications: Ax-108 "Ground Buzzer"(x2), Ion cannon (x2), Caltrop-5 chaff gun, ST2 concussion missile rack, ST2 concussion missile (x4))
-Slave circuit
-Second-degree droid AI
-74-Z Speeder Bike
-Holonet transceiver

Faction: Confederation of Dolomar
Rank: Flight Lieutenant (Renegade Squadron)

Inventory:
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Xira Stone
Posted: Aug 4 2009, 10:45 PM
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Group: Dead
Posts: 0
Member No.: 92
Joined: 26-January 08



(( The entry is just that simple, and the Renegades are cleared to continue on as the door opens. ))


--------------------
user posted image

Name: Xira Stone
Gender: Female
Age: 47
Species: Human
Birthplanet: Dolomar
Ship: Atonement, Super Star Destroyer

Faction: Confederation
Rank: Grand Admiral

Inventory:
  • Two WESTAR-34 blaster pistols
  • Kylan-3 Heavy Blaster Pistol
  • ACP Array Gun
  • Agonizer-6 nerve disruptor
  • Spider-silk Armour (Confederation naval uniform)
  • Spider-silk Armour (civilian clothes)
  • Identification (not always on person)
  • Comlink

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Hadrian Locke
Posted: Aug 23 2009, 12:37 AM
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"Lets not get into what your thing is."

Hadrian Locke had often been called a prick, a bastard and an insolent wretch – the last one was courtesy of a corrupt CEO who’d been informed that the only price Hadrian was willing to trade against his freedom was his still-bloodied liver, prompting a week of the other Renegades referring to him solely by that in a haughty tone – and he once more proved every single of his detractors right by smirking at Mercury’s frustrated tone. The Lorrdian’s deep loathing of his general disposition was as infamous as his own disinclination to do anything about it. Truthfully, he enjoyed being at odds with the other Lieutenant, if only because getting under the skin of the unflappably friendly Lorrdian was a feat few managed to achieve.

The mild animosity they sometimes felt for each other spawned mostly from the fact that their personality were polar opposites – Thumper would twist and duck to avoid conflict while Hadrian dove into it cackling and juggling explosives – but Frag actually thought that aspect of their relationship was valuable for both. Having his principles constantly challenged and mocked forced the Lorrdian to stay in perspective while Hadrian, vaguely recognizing principles as that thing the shrink had tried to explain when he was seven before starting to cry, looked forward to the sport of the whole affair. It wasn’t as though the slight irritation was anything serious either, which was probably why Constance even tolerated it. On the field of battle he would put his life in Mercury’s hands without even blinking and knew that the other Flight Lieutenant would do the same. That was the strength of the Renegades – knowledge that all members of the squadron would find a way to tear through durasteel with bare hands if it meant that everyone made it out of the battleground alive.

And if tonight getting everyone out alive meant that Hadrian had to pile up Rebel corpses until they reached the ceiling, he would so with a smile on his face and a song in his heart.

"Yes, and should we find any disease-ridden whores during our stay here, I'm sure you'll perform spectacularly.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Gonnin, I’m sure you’re mostly clean,” he replied carelessly.

If the Kuati wanted to get in the game, she’d need to do better than that – Hadrian had been jibing against politicians when she was still suckling awkwardness from her mother’s breast. As much as we would have enjoyed watching the woman repeatedly walk into verbal traps and quips, there were more important things to do. Returning his attention to the operation, he saw the Renegade’s advance guard shimmer out of existence as the stealth fields were activated, both Constance and Algernon reappearing next to guards as they knocked the small fry out and looted them for anything usable. The other two started moving and the Coruscanti calmly took Gonnin’s side as she made her way to towards the gate. This wasn’t a part of the operation where he would be crucial; his present objective was the escort and protection of their slicer. Conner or Trigger would be able to set off the explosives if he was shot but they had only one decent slicer, she was a higher priority than him. Vigilant eyes swept the night for any sign of activity as Shaine worked the door – with a low hiss the durasteel opened.

Without a word the Coruscanti took the lead, entering the metal hallways. They’d all studied the schematics before their hit so he had a general idea of the direction they needed to take – there would, however, no doubt be resistance along the way. Reaching for the weapon at his waist, the fair-haired soldier unstrapped the Arg’garok silently. While the large axe wasn’t exactly from the most subtle branch of the melee family tree, it packed the hell of a punch and it was extremely quiet for a vibroblade. Quietly stalking inside the factory, Hadrian started the long descent towards the objective.

((Do the Renegades encounter any guards? Does Hadrian chop them up gleefully?))
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Maris Kala'myr
Posted: Sep 10 2009, 04:53 AM
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Lieutenant Sulu
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Group: Confederation ADM
Posts: 932
Member No.: 253
Joined: 12-April 08



((The Renegades do not encounter any guards up close. They spy a few at range but they are inopportune to remove without raising the alarm.))


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Constance Bravil
Posted: Sep 24 2009, 09:08 PM
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Zakkeg
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Group: Confederation
Posts: 438
Member No.: 443
Joined: 13-August 08



Conner took up a position of overwatch as Trigger relieved the insensate guards of their useful possessions. Stealing from the living--or stripping the corpses of the dead, for that matter--no longer produced so much as a blip on her ethical radar. Many acts considered criminal on the civilized worlds could be rationalized away so long as they assisted in the cause of survival. Appropriating the guard's keycard kept Urbane from needing to force the lock. The more time they spent out in the open, the greater the risk to her people.

She'd fully intended to take point on their insertion into the factory, but Frag beat her to the punch. The Coruscanti's initiative earned him a brief considering glance from his CO, but Constance made no move to censure him. After all, she was pretty sure she knew why he wanted to stand at the front--all the better to hack some Rebels to bits with that nasty looking axe of his. Where (or why) he'd picked up an Arg'garok of all things, she had no clue. That said, Conner supposed it would be a shame to deprive such a vicious weapon of the chance to earn its keep. That logic applies equally well to the main wielding it.

Falling into step behind the bloodthirsty misanthrope, Commander Bravil took the opportunity to slide her vibroblade from its sheath. She didn't activate the power cell as of yet, since the high pitched whine of the weapon did tend to carry. While she carried a perfectly serviceable blaster rifle slung to her back, the Corellian believed she'd better serve the group's needs by taking on comers in close combat. The fact this would allow her to absorb more of the danger upon herself and shield her subordinates from same only made her more certain in her decision.

Careful shifts of balance kept the spy's booted tred light on the duracrete floors. The lighting in the narrow corridor was dim, a minor advantage she was more than happy to exploit. Glancing down the first side corridor they passed, Conner's gray eyes narrowed at the sight of three guards loitering far down the way. Glancing back at Thumper, her free hand moved in a series of silent commands, directing the Lorrdian to keep his aim fixed down the long hallway and protect the squadron's back while the rest of them made their way out of range.

So long as they were careful, they had a more than fair chance of sneaking by without anyone paying them any mind. Their insertion had been flawless, and so no one inside the building had any reason to be on their guard at present. This would change in a hurry as soon as an alarm was raised, of course. All the more reason for us not to dally. Constance waved the other Renegades across the intersection, keeping watch on their distant opponents behind the opposite corner from Merc.

Once this first obstacle had been circumvented, the two of them hastened to catch up with the rest of the team. The Wing Commander pulled to mind the building schematic she'd memorized before the mission. North from this point, then they'd turn into the east stairwell and head down two levels. Then straight west towards the server room. There'd be guards outside that, if nowhere else--or at least there would be if the Alliance officer in charge of security on Denon were half as smart as she, and ten times as intelligent as the average Confederate.

(( Do the Renegades descend the staircase without incident? Are there any guards directly in their path for Conner or Hadrian to run through with their blades? ))


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