- Joined
- Dec 6, 2015
- Messages
- 256
- Reaction score
- 78
Space is big.
The huge unending enormity of it all enough to boggle the mind and maybe even lead it to a religious experience. Everyone hears stories of people that looked deep into the darkness and didn't like what they saw. For some remaining firmly on the ground, safe in the well of a planet is more than enough. It takes a certain kind of person, half egotist, half cavalier risk taker and ninety percent mad to want to fight in that vacuum that alone is so intent on killing most species that having someone else trying to do it on top, is overkill. That does not stop some, those mad, crazed, knights of the stars from rolling their dice and testing to see whether their number has come up. They exist all over the galaxy, some rewound, others not. Some have stories to tell that shake the bones, some don't even have bones left to shake. Others haven't told their stories yet, stories of loss, victory, defeat and blaster bolts arching over an azure sunrise.
It is hard to pick a place to start, the beginning is long and complicated so us start from the days leading up to that day. In deep orbit of a gem of a planet, Telos in the Outer Rim. Most of the galaxy doesn't think it so important. Hundreds of blue green planets are home to many all over, why this one? A agricultural world on the Hydian Way, a hyperspace route that stretched right across the galaxy. Most of the food grown was sold in Core, on planets so densely packed that there was no hope of farming. A quiet world, having known its share of galactic war it sits high and proud along the trade-route. Given it is the access from one side of the galaxy to the other it is as popular with smugglers as it is with traders, pirates and anyone else looking to get somewhere in a hurry. That means that security can be a problem, or it might be for many other planets in this situation. Most serious criminal elements have long learned that it is best to avoid the Telos system and go around rather than risk running afoul of a patrol picket. Sometimes though, the money is just too good, the crew too stupid or things don't go to plan. Almost every day the Telos Defence Forces scrambles a Squadron to one alert or another.
As stated Space is big, it takes a certain series of events to catch a determined foe in its grasp.
Marley Outland was as the name implied not a native Telosian, she considered herself almost one though. Her adopted home felt right, real and more off than not it agreed with her. There were few bad memories attached here, a job, a life, a purpose and it was fun. Some planets she could be certain were dull places to be a pilot, Naboo for example, how droll. She'd been reading about Naboo since it had come up, nothing too interesting but those waterfalls reminded her a lot about, old home. While she might not stoop to reading about Alderaan and might pretend that she didn't care that much about it, or miss it, or people. The data-pad rested in her lap as she reclined back and reached up with her arms.
She was in the pilot's ready room for hanger one onboard Sennen Orbital Station, a military launch base and one of the two in medium Telos orbit with room for a few hundred staff and hangers for sixteen starfighters over six decks. Spartan to be sure and gravity tended to twitch every now and then, getting a little lighter. It was enough for a few months though, the company might not be great but there was a flight almost every day, free food, a bed. It was late afternoon by the stations clock, it felt far later though as today had been one of those days where nothing at all was happening. They'd covered the regional reports, done some Sith craft identification training and now nothing but being spare weight.
Dressed in a mustard yellow jumpsuit with a red leather jacket it was hard to make out what shape she actually was in the folds of fabric. The mass of long ginger hair and face would indicate a female human, the bored look in her green eyes told more. It seemed that today was going to go swanning by with nothing useful being done. It wouldn't be so bad if she was planet-side, able to go for a walk, anything. Dropping her arms Marley scratched her chin was about to drop herself back into the travel guide when, a foghorn like klaxon loud enough to wake the dead roared throughout the station. It was followed by a long ringing for several seconds but by then Marley was already on her feet, pad skittering across the floor. Her cap and support vest were pulled from the wall and over her head and she was half out of the door before the intercom, “Alert. Alert. Scramble. Scramble.” A male voice called out clearly but far from panicked. Everyone else was a hive of activity.
There was a corridor solely for pilots between the ready room and the hanger and Marley was quite adapt at scurrying along it, throwing herself around the hatchway into the bay she could see the crew chiefs clearing the hanger. There were six craft in the bay all of them the same, all of them being cleared. Her Bullfin was across the bay, right in the middle and everyone made sure to get out of her way as she reached the ladder. They had done this half a hundred times already, she knew the drill.
Suited, booted and now locked in she toggled the controls and checked the systems, green across the board, she could hear the murmurer of her talker over the intercom, “Engage reactor.” There was a hiss from lower on the spaceframe and another set of lights came on in the cockpit, “Power live, releasing umbilical, removing ladder.” On her end Marley primed the Repulsorlifts and checked the weapons tracking, deep breath. Down came the canopy, a thumbs up on the right hand side, same on the left. She nodded and she kicked forwards on the controls, just a tap. Pulling forwards she was the first out into the central section, everything had been cleared away by now.
“6-Y3, requesting final launch clearance.” Her voice was twanged with the somewhat too formal patterns of Alderaan.
“Clear for launch 6-Y3, course transferred 4.23 to intercept.”
“Confirmed, launching.” Again she feathered the controls before pushing harder. The repulsors allowed her to slide over the deck like it was grease, then she was already through the shield. The second she left it, the gravity went with it, leaving the repulsors good for only one thing, turning the starfighter in the emptiness of space. The main engines flared and the course was set in, Telos filled the right side of the cockpit, space the rest.
------------
“Intel to 6 Squadron element, we have one freighter and two single seat craft that have escaped a police operation and are making for an escape trajectory, they will break atmosphere within three minutes. You are to offer them a chance to surrender, if they refuse you are authorised to use force. Happy hunting."
@Tristar @Siah
The huge unending enormity of it all enough to boggle the mind and maybe even lead it to a religious experience. Everyone hears stories of people that looked deep into the darkness and didn't like what they saw. For some remaining firmly on the ground, safe in the well of a planet is more than enough. It takes a certain kind of person, half egotist, half cavalier risk taker and ninety percent mad to want to fight in that vacuum that alone is so intent on killing most species that having someone else trying to do it on top, is overkill. That does not stop some, those mad, crazed, knights of the stars from rolling their dice and testing to see whether their number has come up. They exist all over the galaxy, some rewound, others not. Some have stories to tell that shake the bones, some don't even have bones left to shake. Others haven't told their stories yet, stories of loss, victory, defeat and blaster bolts arching over an azure sunrise.
It is hard to pick a place to start, the beginning is long and complicated so us start from the days leading up to that day. In deep orbit of a gem of a planet, Telos in the Outer Rim. Most of the galaxy doesn't think it so important. Hundreds of blue green planets are home to many all over, why this one? A agricultural world on the Hydian Way, a hyperspace route that stretched right across the galaxy. Most of the food grown was sold in Core, on planets so densely packed that there was no hope of farming. A quiet world, having known its share of galactic war it sits high and proud along the trade-route. Given it is the access from one side of the galaxy to the other it is as popular with smugglers as it is with traders, pirates and anyone else looking to get somewhere in a hurry. That means that security can be a problem, or it might be for many other planets in this situation. Most serious criminal elements have long learned that it is best to avoid the Telos system and go around rather than risk running afoul of a patrol picket. Sometimes though, the money is just too good, the crew too stupid or things don't go to plan. Almost every day the Telos Defence Forces scrambles a Squadron to one alert or another.
As stated Space is big, it takes a certain series of events to catch a determined foe in its grasp.
Marley Outland was as the name implied not a native Telosian, she considered herself almost one though. Her adopted home felt right, real and more off than not it agreed with her. There were few bad memories attached here, a job, a life, a purpose and it was fun. Some planets she could be certain were dull places to be a pilot, Naboo for example, how droll. She'd been reading about Naboo since it had come up, nothing too interesting but those waterfalls reminded her a lot about, old home. While she might not stoop to reading about Alderaan and might pretend that she didn't care that much about it, or miss it, or people. The data-pad rested in her lap as she reclined back and reached up with her arms.
She was in the pilot's ready room for hanger one onboard Sennen Orbital Station, a military launch base and one of the two in medium Telos orbit with room for a few hundred staff and hangers for sixteen starfighters over six decks. Spartan to be sure and gravity tended to twitch every now and then, getting a little lighter. It was enough for a few months though, the company might not be great but there was a flight almost every day, free food, a bed. It was late afternoon by the stations clock, it felt far later though as today had been one of those days where nothing at all was happening. They'd covered the regional reports, done some Sith craft identification training and now nothing but being spare weight.
Dressed in a mustard yellow jumpsuit with a red leather jacket it was hard to make out what shape she actually was in the folds of fabric. The mass of long ginger hair and face would indicate a female human, the bored look in her green eyes told more. It seemed that today was going to go swanning by with nothing useful being done. It wouldn't be so bad if she was planet-side, able to go for a walk, anything. Dropping her arms Marley scratched her chin was about to drop herself back into the travel guide when, a foghorn like klaxon loud enough to wake the dead roared throughout the station. It was followed by a long ringing for several seconds but by then Marley was already on her feet, pad skittering across the floor. Her cap and support vest were pulled from the wall and over her head and she was half out of the door before the intercom, “Alert. Alert. Scramble. Scramble.” A male voice called out clearly but far from panicked. Everyone else was a hive of activity.
There was a corridor solely for pilots between the ready room and the hanger and Marley was quite adapt at scurrying along it, throwing herself around the hatchway into the bay she could see the crew chiefs clearing the hanger. There were six craft in the bay all of them the same, all of them being cleared. Her Bullfin was across the bay, right in the middle and everyone made sure to get out of her way as she reached the ladder. They had done this half a hundred times already, she knew the drill.
Suited, booted and now locked in she toggled the controls and checked the systems, green across the board, she could hear the murmurer of her talker over the intercom, “Engage reactor.” There was a hiss from lower on the spaceframe and another set of lights came on in the cockpit, “Power live, releasing umbilical, removing ladder.” On her end Marley primed the Repulsorlifts and checked the weapons tracking, deep breath. Down came the canopy, a thumbs up on the right hand side, same on the left. She nodded and she kicked forwards on the controls, just a tap. Pulling forwards she was the first out into the central section, everything had been cleared away by now.
“6-Y3, requesting final launch clearance.” Her voice was twanged with the somewhat too formal patterns of Alderaan.
“Clear for launch 6-Y3, course transferred 4.23 to intercept.”
“Confirmed, launching.” Again she feathered the controls before pushing harder. The repulsors allowed her to slide over the deck like it was grease, then she was already through the shield. The second she left it, the gravity went with it, leaving the repulsors good for only one thing, turning the starfighter in the emptiness of space. The main engines flared and the course was set in, Telos filled the right side of the cockpit, space the rest.
------------
“Intel to 6 Squadron element, we have one freighter and two single seat craft that have escaped a police operation and are making for an escape trajectory, they will break atmosphere within three minutes. You are to offer them a chance to surrender, if they refuse you are authorised to use force. Happy hunting."
This will be a space battle, taking place in space with some space physics which for that don't know means that once you start going in a direction you keep going in that direction until you actively thrust against it. Keep in mind that other players may or may not be moving relative to you and if you have any questions shoot me a PM.
The smugglers have blasted off the planet after a pirate base was raided by planetary police. They have to escape the planet's gravity well/charge their hyperdrives to escape. While subject to change pending how things go it can be assumed they will be able to escape after 5-6 rounds of posts. I don't expect anyone to die, however it is still completely possible.
The smugglers have blasted off the planet after a pirate base was raided by planetary police. They have to escape the planet's gravity well/charge their hyperdrives to escape. While subject to change pending how things go it can be assumed they will be able to escape after 5-6 rounds of posts. I don't expect anyone to die, however it is still completely possible.
@Tristar @Siah