[RoSM: Clan Odan-Urr – Proteam]


(Creon Saldean) #21

The hiss of a lightsaber drew the attention of the Collective band outside the AI control room. Creon drew their blaster fire to the left as Dral, Terry, and the others fired from the right. Before their attention could be turned away from the Jedi, the impact of a proton discharge erupted in the room behind them. Their attention turned to the blast door they were guarding, and each one slowly retreated into the AI room.

“They’re going to flank our flank. Push up!” Creon said as he charged forward towards the retreating outside team.

Inside the AI core, blaster fire was exchanged after the team found cover amongst the server panels. Len overheard a Collective troop get yelled at to avoid hitting the panels after a bolt hit his cover. The value of the panels, it seemed, made taking cover behind them even easier. The Chiss looked over to Len who was across a few other panels.

“Do your thing,” Len called to him. Jetsam nodded with understanding and began to shift around the various panels of cover.

“Reinforcements coming your way!” Sting’s voice came into the comlink. Len scanned to see that troops from the front door had made their way inside, and had a relatively clear line of sight at Len and the others. He brought up his rifle to fire, but felt himself be yanked away from his post. The Chiss slid across the ground until he was behind a different panel, one where Tarvitz was posted nearby.

“Apologies, I didn’t want to risk them hitting you first,” The Jedi apologized.

“No no, it’s fine. Just a head of warning next time,” Len replied as he looked for a way to regain a good aiming spot.

“Priority is the team retreating into the server room,” Creon’s voice called over the intercom, “They’re going to try and lock us out.”

Tarvitz drew out his lightsaber and ran in a zig-zag pattern with enhanced speed of the force, all the while waving his lighstaber to gain attention. He released a large flash of light at the incoming reinforcements that were bundled together, and worked on deflecting blows from the other enemy team.

Len took advantage of the moment where all fire was focused on Tarvitz and took out troops on from both enemy teams. He stopped firing near the entrance team when he saw Creon’s saber glow tear through the soldiers that were still recovering from Tarvitz’ blinding flash.

Once the remaining troops were dealt with, Creon called for a sit-rep on everyone’s health and status, then the team proceeded to the main console HUD of the AI core. Jetsam broke from his cover, dropping a denton charge or two along the way, and hooked up his probe to the computer terminal. Ratchet and Tenny joined him at the terminals, each in their own individual ports.

“Defensive positions, expect the AI to alert anyone nearby,” Creon called.

“Sithspit,” Walsh cursed as he looked over the various software programs on his datapad.

“How long will it take?” Creon asked.

“Longer than I had hoped. The droids are already trying to break down the AI’s administrative control, but it has previous versions already backed up as well as alternative software. Meaning it can stay in control by just switching the kind of program it uses. Clever girl.”

“Then we aught to expect resistance. The AI is in survival mode. If we can’t get the life cycle restarted and the prison doors open-”

“I’ll get it. Just… give me time,” Walsh growled.

10 Minutes Later

Dral and Sting took another peer down the entrance door they came in from. The hallway was still clean. Len was posted up behind an elevated server panel that gave him a rough oversight of the majority of the core room. He couldn’t see any enemy movement. Tarvitz guarded the wall that had been breached with half of the prisoners that stayed. The remaining half were with Creon on the starboard side blast door of the control room. The door was closed, but they were stacked to ambush in case it were to open.

“Aaaaaaand,” Walsh said with a single key stroke, “Done!”

Sir, droid movement coming from the starboard side.

Len looked up from his comlink and posted his rifle to where Creon and a few of the prisoners were posted up. “Look alive,” he called, “Incoming to starboard.”

The blast door opened up, followed quickly by a flash grenade. Both Creon and the troop with him staggered back from the grenade’s impact. Droids began filing into the room, only to be met with Len’s blaster fire. Security Droids turned to fire at the starboard group, but their bolts came into contact with a barrier produced by Creon when he threw up both hands. The barrier extended to cover each of them, but was beginning to crumble underneath the growth of enemy fire as more droids continued to flood the control room.

The entire O.T.F. team, aside from Walsh, made their way to the assault. Blaster fire turned the attention of the security droids to scatter their aim, and the prisoners who were with Creon fled for cover. Once they had been secured, Creon took up his saber and took to the closest droids. When a droid would turn its attention to Creon, its fire was either deflected by his saber, or it was either taken down by Len’s sniping. The Chiss focused solely on the droids that turned their attention to Creon and nearby vulnerable members. The droids who’s attention was scattered was addressed by Creon, and eventually Tarvitz who joined in the melee, as well as the cover fire placed by the rest of the O.T.F. and their allied prisoners.

A stir in the Force brought Creon’s attention to his backside, but it did him little good. An HK-Series droid winded his arms to redirect Creon’s twirl and snapped his wrist to disarm the lightsaber. Creon winced at the sudden shock, but pressed down his elbow hard at the droid’s arm to disarm it of his wrist. The impact would have worked on normal biological targets, but the HK droid didn’t budge. Instead Creon’s helmet was smashed off his head from a direct blow from a metallic arm.

“Rutgar-4,” Len hissed to himself as he focused to take aim from the nearby security droids to the HK.

Tarvitz dashed into the remaining droid group to support Creon. He weaved and tore through the droids in his way to get to the middle, then met Rutgar-4 with a thrust aimed at the chest cavity without the blade meeting with Creon. The droid twisted it’s torso in a way no biological creature could, and drew a vibro-arbir blade to slice at Tarvitz. He was lucky he listened to the Force as the end of the blade grazed the tip of his neck. He took a few steps back from the droid’s spinning of the blade through it’s rotating hands. It could move and fight in such a way that organics couldn’t, and lacked the pressure points that they were trained to manage in hand-to-hand combat.

Two blaster shots connected to the HK that caused it to stumble backwards. Creon acknowledged the opportunity and drew his lightsaber to his uninjured hand. Tarvitz followed suit with Creon looking to him in a knowing nod. The two rushed to the HK droid and exchanged places, leaving a horizontal slice across Rutgar-4s torso. The droid split apart and fell on the ground. The rest of the security droids that remained were followed up on in the crossfire. After the engagement was over, Tarvitz resealed the blaster door with the Force.

“How much longer?” Creon asked while inspecting his wrist.

“Oh, I’m good mate. Prisons are open,” Jetsam said as he started to toss around denton charges.

“What are you doing, then?” Len asked as he approached from his post.

“Oh it won’t last long unless I blow this place up. Once we get clear, that is.”

“Call in for extraction, team,” Creon said, “Let’s get out of here.”


(Morgan B. Sorenn) #22

This Phase lasts from November 12th until November the 19th (one (1) week)

Request from the organizers: Please add a note to the top of the next post which path your team will choose in this Phase. Thank you.

Phase III objectives

The Brotherhood advances. What started as sporadic fighting in the major hangar bays of Meridian has turned into an all-out battle on all decks. Spurred by your team’s success in the prison, your Clan forces have come to support you and issue new orders for your team.

Daggo Mouk, one of the leaders of the Collective and the Guildmaster of the Technocratic Guild, has been confirmed on the station. With him he has a potent Technocratic Artifact that, if whisked away, would threaten the position of the Brotherhood in future engagements.

Daggo’s last known position was in the command center, however we have been having trouble following his movements. Wherever he is on the station, he would not leave the artifact unattended. The return of the artifact to Brotherhood hands is of absolute strategic value.

Your team has been tasked to complete one of the following objectives in limited time (you may complete only one (1) objective):

  • Revenge path: Confront and eliminate Daggo Mouk. Have no mercy.

  • Sabotage path: Sabotage the Collective’s future plans by stealing the artifact by any means necessary.

  • Pacifist path: Capture Daggo Mouk for interrogation and trial.

The phase must end with the artifact retrieved. Daggo’s fate is open-ended and up to you.

Relevant character sheets:


(Ka Tarvitz) #23

Revenge path: Confront and eliminate Daggo Mouk. Have no mercy.

Meridian Space Station
Wild Space
Station Interior

Meridian Prime was dying. Slowly but surely, it was succumbing to the relentless bombardment of the orbiting fleet and the detachments of assault troops reaping a heavy toll among its forces. Even at its core, the distant roar of turbolaser detonations sent tremors through the ship’s superstructure. In the midst of such carnage, no one was going to notice one more explosion.

“It’s a thing of real beauty,” Jetsam Walsh grinned, listening to the sequence of denton charges exploding throughout the AI core’s chamber, “Does anyone want to place any bets on how long it will take them to notice?”

“Notice or care?” Dral replied, shrugging his massive shoulders at the comment, “They have other things to worry about right now, assuming the fleet’s still doing its job.”

The Mandalorian seemed slightly put-out by how he had been unable to witness the AI’s destruction in person, even given the danger. The group had retreated until they were a safe distance from the chamber - or at least until they had eighteen blast doors and five reinforced bulkheads between them and the explosives - before Walsh triggered the bombs. With the AI to guide it, the Collective defenses had been unable to muster the numbers to effectively fight the strike force; allowing the mixture of prisoners and operatives to swiftly extract themselves from the center of the facility. The few who had not been smart enough to run had been pillaged for their weapons, and then left where they had fallen.

“So, the question now is if we make a run for the escape pods or try to find a spare hanger,” Tarvitz commented, one hand raised as he used the Force to search the area ahead for possible threats, “Any word on that extraction, Len?”

Len shook his head, “Nothing thus far, but knowing our luck something will get in the way of it. With this many boarding actions underway, and only so many of our ships still flying, they’ll need to ask someone to make their own way out of here.”

“Better us than some poor grunts,” Creon answered, with a nod “Better to trust people with a track record of getting out of these situations than a squad lacking it.”

“Lacking it?” one prisoner echoed, a smuggler who had claimed that he had been imprisoned for refusing to accept the Collective’s alterations to a deal, “Just how many times have each of you stolen an enemy ship off of an exploding station?”

The group stopped for a moment, each person looking from one to the next.

“I’ve lost count,” Len replied, “A lot.”

“Eighteen times,” Creon said with total sincerity, “Nineteen if you count this one.”

“That depends if we’re counting ships which have already been blowing up, but someone has still boarded them,” Tarvitz finished, looking at the ceiling and frowning as he tried to remember an exact number.

“Usually I’d be trying to steal their ship after ramming it with a burning one,” Dral answered, his quiet chuckle taking on an odd grating quality as it was vocalized through his helmet, “No captain ever seems to expect whoever they are chasing to do that.”

Most of the prisoners suddenly looked as if they would rather be back in their cells than accompanying the strike team. All save for the one claiming to be a bounty hunter, who now had an expression halfway between incredulity and respect. Before anything more could be said, Len’s comlink began bleeping as it picked up an incoming signal.

“Iode here,” Len said as he activated it, “Go ahead.”

Black Harbinger to strike force,” Mia’s voice came through the communicator, distorted by the several thousand meters of metal and background energy of the battle, “We have new orders: You’re to head to the lower levels of the Correctional Facility immediately; the presence of a priority target has been confirmed.”

“Can you be more specific?” Creon asked, “You’re asking a lot from us to risk going down there while a riot is underway, and you’re still shooting at the station.”

“Communications from various Collective units state that Daggo Mouk is present on Meridian Prime,” Mia answered, “He’s gathering as many troops as he can and is trying to escape the station with an unidentified item. Its purpose is unknown, but he is risking remaining here to secure its removal.”

“And I’m guessing we’re the closest people who can cause him trouble?” Dral replied, evidently enthused at this latest turn of events.

“Correct,” Mia confirmed, “We suspect that he will make for the escape pods on the lowest area of the station, or possibly a hidden hanger. Stop him at all costs.”

“And find out just what it is he’s carrying as well,” Len acknowledged, “Any help you can offer would be appreciated, but we’ll do all we can to stop him. Strike force out.”

He closed the link and then looked to the group of prisoners. Most looked uncertain of this new development, even a few of those with ties to the Brotherhood. It was difficult to blame them. They had risked death once already in a bid for freedom, now they were being asked to fight their way halfway across the station in what was effectively an assassination mission.

“If you want to leave, I won’t hold it against you,” Tarvitz said, “But we could use some help finding the fastest way down there, and that the moment I can’t think of a faster way off of the station.”

“Normally I’d ask for payment with this sort of thing,” the bounty hunter admitted, a grin adding a splash of white to her dark features, “In this case, I think I’ll settle for revenge and any valuables we run into along the way.”

“I can think of worse moves,” the smuggler agreed, checking the charge on a pistol he had taken from a fallen, “But if we run into any escape pods on the way down there, I’m gone.”

A few others, notably a member of Clan Arcona’s military and someone claiming to be an Iron Legionnaire, offered similar agreements. Others, more than might have been hoped, parted from the group with few words and disappeared to hunt for their own way off of Meridian.

“Thank you,” Creon said with a nod, “Let’s move out.”


(Dral Falgorth) #24

“So what’s the plan then here,” Terry asked boldly to the squad and accompanying members.

“Well we could attempt to find one of those secret access routes again,” The Mandalorian brings up.

“The main paths would be blocked or have resistance should we take those paths.” The Smuggler brought to the group’s attention.

“How much fuel do you have left in your cutter then, Falgorth?” Creon provided the option as if it was almost an order. Dral takes a few seconds to check the time use remaining on the Plasma Cutter before providing his response. “It didn’t take much fuel to skim through the passages hatch, we still have about thirty minutes left on the Plasma cutter left but I don’t believe it’ll be enough to go through the floor entirely. Three fourths at best.”

“The remaining Force Users could finish the job then with their Lightsabers,” The Arcona Legionnaire suggested, followed by an immediate scowl of hatred shot from Dral. The Legionnaire winced at the attention he received from his suggestion.

The Task Force with company continued to move down the halls, Tarvitz utilizing the force to gage their surroundings while Len was observing the partial map they received from the AI’s data storage before the unit disposed of the AI Core properly. With a bang.

The group met small resistance as they made their way through the halls and corridors, often encountering the Technocratic security guards that managed to flee from the riots or some unsavory Prisoners who either mistook the group as Collective members or saw them as Brotherhood forces and left them be. Any hostilities was met with quick and decisive elimination, as the team pressed forward to attempt to at least cut Daggo off from the escape pods.

Just as they were about to intersect a T-shaped junction Tarvitz stopped in his tracks. Looking to Creon who in turn nodded at him, “Len what’s the map say is below us?” Creon asked as the Chiss pulled up the map once more, “The map has that section blocked off, basically leaving it as non-existence” Which many of the members knew that was most likely not true.

“The guards did initially bring us in from a separate hanger from the upper levels one.” The Bounty Hunter brought up, her expression a very neutral stance as she spoke. “Though they did ensure to conceal the pathway as so we wouldn’t know the right direction to backtrack should something like this occur.”

“If you we’re moving a high value possession, would you go for the obvious escape pods or the secret hanger they use for prisoner extraction and arrivals?” Len asked inquisitively

“I do believe the hanger is the obvious choice here,” The smuggler piped up

“Start cutting?” Dral asked as he unhooked his plasma cutter.

“So long as you realize I have to finish the cuts,” The Jedi Commander looked sternly at the Mando.

The Professional mumbled under his breath as he started his cutting. “Freakin, krate spit jedi and their frakin laser swords messing up my frakin professional cut lines,” Dral continued the cut just before the plasma fuel was expended.

The bounty hunter was taken back by the words the Mando mumbled as he started his incision. “You from the Outer Rim?” she asked Dral.

Len chuckled at her response, “No but we’ve been out and around that region before.” Dral continued his job with intense concentration. “As you can tell though Dral has taken a liking to their insults.”


(Len Iode) #25

As Dral finished his precise cut into the floor Len’s stomach churned. The officer had been on missions that were risky before, but this was different.

Not even a year ago, Len, Tarvitz, and the Chiss’ adoptive father along with then Councilor of the Roll Ta’Var, Councilor of War Archenksova, Tamashi Delat, Yuki Suoh, and a band of TDUCs faced down a horde of Collective Forces on Nancora. Their mission to assault a Collective reliquary had been a success, but some nights the commando had dreams about the sand swallowing up some of the commandos thanks to Gwendolyn Sparks. Their screams would melt into his distraction force nearly being overrun before the battle turned in their favor with the timely arrival of air and ground support.

It was easy to chalk the nervousness up to this being the first time Len had worked with Creon, Dral, and the OTF however so far they worked together like a dream. They played well to each others skill set. As he analyzed his concern more, Iode realized it was their new target who brought him distress. Daggo Mouk had overseen the torture, mutilation, and forced assimilation of hundreds of innocents and soldiers alike. On top of that, bag and tag operations of living subjects usually became messy. This was no mid level officer either, Mouk would more than likely have a dedicated squad of fanatic soldiers guarding him. Lastly if they failed, the Guildmaster would most likely go underground never to be seen for a long time.

Snapped back to reality by the snap-hiss of Saldean’s saber igniting, Iode surveyed his team. Everyone was doing a last minute weapons check. Fletcher tapped Iode on the shoulder and gestured towards Falgorth. Len covered his area as Terry took it over. The Chiss moved quickly popping his ion grenade out of the front left pouch on his vest and posting up opposite of Dral. Creon was just about to complete the final cut when Len looked at his grenade partner and smiled.

We got this, he thought.

No sooner had the thought passed when the floor plate fell away revealing an empty repair bay. Iode signaled for Dral to not throw, placing his own grenade in his right cargo pocket and readying his rifle.

“Clear my way. After you?” The Mando asked.

“Don’t mind if I do.” The Chiss sat on the edge of the opening and let his feet dangle. It was about a 2 to 3 meter drop. There was no cover only the walls forming the repair bay.

Cleaning house, Iode thought.

“They’ve moved the repair equipment out. Probably in case the escape ship needs it,” Iode relayed.

“If I may be of assistance.” Tarvitz raised his hand and lowered the officer through the hatch.

The durasteel walls and floors were relatively untouched by the raging battle, about 50 meters away was a large environment magnetic field in the floor. As Len’s boots gently touched the ground he immediately took to the nearest wall covering Dral’s descent. The repair bay opened to the main flight line and exterior exit. There was no hatch in the repair bay, which pushed the team into a corner. The craft storage and what the officer surmised was the prisoner disembarkation area was across from them. There was not ship in sight.

Iode relayed the bad news to the rest of the team.

No sign at all?” Saldean asked.

“It looks like they cleared out this area before we got to the core,” Len replied. As he did a hatch opened loudly and modified voices spoke in twisted tongues. They seemed to indicate the hanger was clear, but they were difficult to understand.

“Scratch that, get everyone down now.” Whispered Len, urgency in his tone. Turning over his shoulder he whispered to Tenny. “Recon ahead please.”

The droid whirred in response and flew off, as it did an old Lambda-class shuttle marked with decades of blaster hits rose into the landing area. Luckily for the team, the pilot had angled the shuttle to line up with the landing area already.


(Creon Saldean) #26

A small thud led by a whispering curse made Daggo Mouk turn towards the corner leading to a storage hatch. They weren’t alone. He ordered his men to investigate, which was enough to spring the hidden foes into action. Blaster fire echoed in the hangar, along with the flair of lightsabers. Daggo was impressed that anyone could have carved their way into an area like this on the Meridian. Not very few could have made their way here by accident. They must have been after him. This meant that they would pursue him into a place much more suitable to Mouk’s advantage.

The Ithorian bolted down the hall using the Cybernetic Harness. Although it wasn’t as natural, the extra limbs provided Douk with a movement speed that none could match. Two of the limbs ran like legs, while the other held a datapad to his torso for him to access, the fourth drew out a blaster pistol and fired aimlessly in the air. He wanted the group to deter their attention from his troops and focus on pursuing their target. He ordered his men to not chase the intruders, and to continue to prime the ship for liftoff.

Daggo continued his retreat until he came around a corner into another hangar, yet this one looked to have had a fight recently. To his right, along a platform just outside of an attached control room, was a large turret. The turret was installed as a show of force to unauthorized ships making land. It was perfect! The Technocratic leader made his way into the control room and started up the console. He turned on the magnetic fields that protected his room, and booted up the turret. The controls were easy for him to pick up. So easy, in fact, that he began downloading the control to the turret’s software onto his datapad. It was in case he needed to operate it outside the command console, or if he finds another turret from another retreat. The turret wheeled left, and then right, aimed high and then low. Mouk even fired off a round just to see the damage it could pull. A small crate of boxes were completely eradicated by the blast. The turret could easily blow vessels, let alone a few approaching fleshy bodies.

After a pause of silence, Daggo wheeled the turret to the opening blast door he came in through and fired. There was a small explosion and a clearing of smoke. Unfortunately, he didn’t see any bodies. The Blast door remained open, however, with the overhead lights on in the hallway. Someone was there, and Mouk decided he’ll blast anyone who comes this way, friend or foe. He was to hold out until the remaining men, if any, had the ship primed. He knew the station well enough to where he could keep his pursuers on a chase should he need to buy time. What worried him, however, was the fight outside the Meridian. He had no scope of the situation, and at any second the station could be eradicated. It was a moment he had to draw out without knowing how much time he had left.

“Good call,” Creon complimented to Walsh. He asked earlier if one of the Jedi could open the blast door from afar, just in case if Mouk was the trap laying type. Walsh expected a primed explosive or mine of some sorts, instead he got a high caliber blaster fire at the entrance.

“Usually it’s one boom and we’re clear. But there’s always more blaster fire,” Walsh commented before asking, “What do we do?”

It was the only known way into the hangar they followed Daggo to, unless they circled around the entire Meridian station to come into the hangar the opposite way. That wasn’t an option. That was their only entrance, and the turrets blast covered more ground than what they could funnel out of.

“Can the droids hack it from here?” Creon asked.

“Doubt it,” Len said looking to Tenny, “They could if they had access to the control console, easily.”

“Alright,” Creon said biting his lip, “It’s risky, but I think I have a plan.”


(Ka Tarvitz) #27

As plans went, as Tarvitz would reflect later on, it wasn’t a terrible one. Bad in its own way to be sure, it had that sort of creative simplicity which always seemed to catch the more intelligent of minds off guard; especially when their intellect was being bolstered by superior firepower. At the time though, any appreciation he had was being quelled by the desire to swear profusely at his part in the intended plan.

Tarvitz leapt into the air, hurtling vertically upward and out of cover from behind the corner of the blast door as he was propelled by Creon’s telekinetic shove. An energy bolt burned past him, racing just under Tarvitz’s legs as Mouk fired on instinct, failing to fully account for an airborne foe. Firing the jets mounted to his armor’s ankles, Tarvitz rolled to one side as another shot narrowly missed him, and began flying directly at the cannon.

“I have his attention,” Tarvitz spoke into his comlink, as the cannon slowly attempted to shift about and track his flight, “Time for the next part.”

The cannon fired once more, aiming high as the Ithorian attempted to catch Tarvitz mid-flight. Cutting power to his thrusters, he dropped in the air and another bolt missed him entirely, ending only as it punched a large glowing crater into the far end of the hanger. Ending his abrupt fall with a roll and sprinting behind the nearest group of cargo containers, Tarvitz caught sight of Dral, Walsh and the Smuggler moving forward, darting out from behind their shelter and sticking to the shadows.

Focused upon the most pressing target in the area, the cannon prepared to fire again at Tarvitz as Creon stepped out of cover next, and raised both hands. The weapon’s internal mechanics ground to a halt as the barrel was caught in the Jedi’s telekinetic grip, briefly freezing it in place as it fired, missing again, but slamming Tarvitz back against the crates with the force of the detonation. Grunting with the impact and with his head ringing he dragged himself upright and raised a hand to the cannon, adding his own telekinetic strength to Creon’s efforts. With a lumbering pace the cannon was dragged about, Mouk ineffectually firing the weapon several times into the deck plating as he tried to drag it free.

“Walsh, Dral, now!” Creon managed, grunting with the effort.

The saboteur and Mandalorian both sprung out into view, each holding one of the two remaining denton charges left in their arsenal. As one they hurled them into the air, and as one Tarvitz shunted them along, smashing them against the cannon and holding them in place. With a grin, Walsh’s thumb stabbed down on the detonator in his other hand, and the cannon was engulfed in a ball of fire. Fragments of metal scattered through the air as the thunderous explosion shook the very ground itself, and momentarily lit up the interior with the orange hue of the charges igniting.

For a moment the cannon shuddered and attempted to turn once more. Where the explosives had struck, the metal had been left blackened and cracked but little else. For a weapon intended to contend against enemy starships, the charges had done little besides weaken its protective shell.

“Okay, time to improvise!” Tarvitz yelled, igniting his lightsaber and sprinting toward the gun.

As the Jensaarai did, the remainder of their number broke from cover with Len at their lead. Ignoring the fight playing out for the moment, they raced toward the awaiting shuttle, with some of their number occasionally pausing to take shelter behind a cargo crate as the cannon tried to wrest itself from Creon’s grip. Shots blazed past from the other side of the hanger, as a group dressed in Collective fatigues began surrounding the shuttle and desperately attempted to bring it online.

With their initial attempt having failed, Walsh and Dral resorted to blasters. Lining up shots on Mouk, they advanced forward, snapping off shots one after the next. Scuttling back on his metallic limbs, Mouk seemingly realised just how exposed he truly was. Stabbing several commands into the datapad grasped in one claw-tipped durasteel limb, the cannon began automatically firing at anything which came within range. It struggled against Creon’s efforts, tearing about as it tried to lock onto anything nearby and firing in a succession of rapid blasts, sending shots ricocheting about the room.

Mouk retreated, withdrawing at high speed in a mass of flailing metal legs away from his attackers and heading for the shuttle. Firing ineffectively with the pistol, he discarded it after several shots went completely wide of his intended target, and instead withdrew a bulky grenade launcher from where it was holstered against his back. Steadying it with his cybernetic hand, Mouk opened fire on his pursuers and unleashed a succession of explosions in their path. Inaccurate as they were, the efforts forced the others into cover, slowing their pursuit as he scuttled away.

Catching sight of the exchange out of the corner of his eye, Tarvitz fired his thrusters again and launched himself toward the cannon. Slamming down onto the topmost section of its plating, he hacked away at the sections blackened by its explosives, leaving deep glowing gouges in the metal. Bringing the energy blade down in a series of graceless slashes he parted the armor before tearing through the delicate electronics locked within it. With a slow whine of dwindling power, the weapon finally slumped to one side, dead and inoperable at last.

Leaping from the weapon, Tarvitz raced after Dral, Walsh, Creon and the Smuggler as they hurried after Mouk.


(Len Iode) #28

“Quickly, get that rear turret online!” Technocratic Guildmaster’s personal pilot barked to one of the technicians as he slid into the flight controllers seat.

The technician human grabbed the blaster control yoke. “Yes sir, locking on now.”

The turret sprang to life, responding to the technician’s input. His artificial eye displayed the cannon’s view. As the image focused, the augmented human saw the last OTF trooper disappear under the shuttle.

“Intruders!” the Technocrat shouted, but it was too late. Len and Terry had lined up their shots and took out the flight crew.

A chorus of “Clear” echoed throughout the shuttle.

“We have the shuttle,” Iode radioed, “How is the rest of the fight?”

Stay where you are. We’re coming to you,” Tarvitz replied.

“I’ve got left you take right?” the senior Odanite asked.

“Works for me.” Terry readied his weapon toward the on ramp.

Mechanical clanking in the distance grew closer and closer. Len tightened his grip on the A280, settling the weapon firmly into his shoulder.

“You still have that grenade?” The medic asked.

Using his off hand, the commando produced the cylinder from his cargo pocket and rolled it to Sting. “The interior should be shielded enough.”

As Len watched Terry pick up the grenade from the corner of his eye, his mind was racing. They would be the first to engage Mouk when he arrived but Iode guessed it would not be that simple. The clanking got closer but blaster fire now followed behind. The commando readied his rifle once more and the medic beside him readied the grenade.

“Ion out!” Sting shouted as he lobbed the grenade through the open entrance hatch.
Two counts of Coruscant later the sound of electronics frying and screaming wafted through the hatch. Mouk sprinted up the ramp and both soldiers opened fire. One of the volley hit the Guildmaster’s mechanical arms just before he got behind a piece of repair equipment.

Creon and Tarvitz bolted up the ramp approaching their quarry from either side, sabers at the ready. Dral came up between the men while Terry and Len approached from the outer flanks of the Jensaari and Jedi. The OTF team had cut off the Guildmaster who now noticed he had been hit on more places than just the mechanical arm. Still alive, the less obvious hits covered the Ithorian’s midsection, blood was beginning to soak his tunic and his breathing was labored.


(Dral Falgorth) #29

The team held their ground as they began to slowly approach the Collective Guildmaster with caution. Most of the fighting was already concluded, all that remained was the leader.

Mouk slipped his datapad out from his side, luckily it had taken no bolts. The Technocrat typed something on the display as his would-be captors descended upon his cover.

The blaster fire then stopped, followed with one last bolt from Dral as a sign of displeasure for the Collective members as a whole.

“You’ve made your best efforts in seeing that all Force Users are either eradicated or held in contempt for no other reason than being a Force User, Daggo,” Creon’s voice echoed in the hanger bay.

“It’s time you finally face your consequences head on and not hide behind the shield of others,” Creon spoke firmly as he took another step forward.

A cynical laughter slowly emerged from slowly from behind the repair equipment. Soft and slow at first, only growing in pace and depth as the laughter continued with each stroke on his datapad.

Just as he was wrapping his laughter up the hanger went black as the bay doors and entrances were sealed shut by the emergency blaster doors. When he finished he slowly stepped out from behind the equipment with a sneering smirk on his face as he held onto his wounds, resting on the remaining arms of his harness. The only light source was that of the Lightsabers, the blue and green hue that emanated around the Jedi. Alongside the ships interior lights that illuminated the ship’s ramp.

“You underestimate me, Force scum.” the Guildmaster chuckled as he began to slowly approach the ramp.

“You have a few options now, you could kill me and be stuck in here til the station is obliterated. Or you can get off my ship and once I have the ramp closed I will unlock the hanger doors and be on my way. At least you’ll have the opportunity to escape with your lives with the second choice.” Mouk sneered being cocksure of his options with the O.T.F unit.

“After all my droid is the only one who can access the encrypted code at my command,” he continued.


(Creon Saldean) #30

Mouk pulled out a strange object, one that none of the Odanites could identify in nature. Though the way he was holding it, it didn’t look like a friendly parting gift. An impact came from the Force, a void that held some kind of odor. This odor was not by smell, though the stench felt acidic in Creon and Tarvitz’ blood. The two impulsively looked to each other, and then back to the artifact.

A large wave of electrostatic expanded in a sphere of power that washed all over the hangar bay and beyond. The impact caused everyone nearby to take a step back and catch their footing, with Tarvitz and Creon collapsing to the floor. Sting took to the wounded Jedi as Dral and Iode opened fire on Douk Maggo, who was already in the hangar and closed the door. The blaster fire did nothing good to the armor, and soon enough the shield deflectors would make their attempt useless. They needed to stop the flight.

“Explosives near the thrusters!” Len shouted out. When he reached into his pack for a thermal detonator, he was reminded that it was spent. Dral looked to be out too when he spat, “Walsh! Where the frak is Walsh?!”

Len couldn’t find him either. It did no good, however, as the ship booted up.

“Help me pull these guys out of here!” Terry said as he lifted the unconscious Tarvitz over his shoulder. Dral and Len helped Creon to his feet, who was barely able to move on his own, and walked him with Fletcher past one of the blast doors to the hangar bay. It was safer than leaving them there, should Mouk decide to test the reach of his ship’s thrusters.

“Sir, I need you to reach into your intestinal fortitude and get yo’ bantha fodder together. Mouk just took off,” Terry said to Creon who was groaning to regain his awareness. When Creon looked at his hands, and then to the others, he felt almost blind. He couldn’t sense their outer emotions or presence. His eyes and ears were the only indicator of their existence. Creon was no longer connected to the Force.

It was heartbreaking for him to realize it. It was like losing an entire limb, or even his spirit. He loved how connected he was to life, nature, and the balances they held. It was a remarkable and beautiful experience, and now it was gone.

“Orders?” Someone asked. Creon didn’t care. Daggo Mouk got away, they were in a station that could blow at any second, and Creon didn’t much care for life without the Force.

“This mission is a failure, it doesn’t matter,” he replied.

“Oi, don’t say that mate,” Walsh’s voice came in over the comlink.

“The Frak?! Where are you?” Dral asked.

“On Daggo’s ship. He didn’t look like the type with good peripherals. If he dies, the mission is a success, yeah?”

“Jetsam, see if you can subdue him and make an escape through hyperspace,” Creon ordered.

“Can’t do that, boss.”

“Why not?”

“He’s got a tight ship. Take me hours to hack it without my toys. Think I can rig it to blow, though.”

“Walsh, you don’t need to do that.”

“I think I do. Not sure what that artifact of his is capable of doing, but I’m pretty sure he plans to use it as much as possible. The Technocratic Guild would take a hit if he’s gone, and I always wanted to go out with a bang. Let me choose my death, yeah?”

“Walsh!”

The line went dead.

“Orders?” Terry asked again.

“Let’s find a way out of here,” Creon replied, “Nobody else dies.”