New Republic: The Enemy of My Enemy
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KING OF STRONG STYLE
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Joined: Fri Feb 10, 2006 5:43 pm
Joined: Fri Feb 10, 2006 5:43 pm
New Republic: The Enemy of My Enemy
New Republic: The Enemy of My Enemy
Captain’s Quarters-Retribution
Austin Kislum leaned back in the chair that he was sitting in. His quarters weren’t the greatest, they weren’t even furnished that well. But he liked them, and they were his and had been his for many years. The Retribution had been “his” ship since he had joined the Rebel Alliance, a few short months after the Battle of Hoth. Austin had been twenty two then, eager and ready to do damage to the oppressive regime of the Empire that had hurt people that he cared about. A Corellian and damned proud of it, Austin had been nothing more than a gunner on board the Nebulon-B Frigate. Now, he was the ship’s captain, and the commander of a small New Republic task force. The Retribution wasn’t the largest ship in his task force, but he had chosen to remain on board the Neb-B instead of transferring over to a different vessel.
He had, under his command, the Retribution; the Dantooine and the Hopeful Sentry, two Warrior-class Gunships; and the largest vessel in the task force, the Mon Hemura, an MC-40a Cruiser. He had been given the option to transfer over to the Mon Hemura, but he had chosen not to, comfortably happy on board his Retribution. The vessel had seen a lot in it’s early days. It had been an Imperial ship before a daring Rebel raid when the ship had been in drydock undergoing some repairs. That had been an interesting fight from what he’d heard. He didn’t know what the ship had been named before hand, he just knew that when he’d gotten on board, he had never been off planet before, and Austin had known right then and there, that this was going to be the start of a great adventure. He was in his late thirties now, and he had been fighting Imperials for roughly fifteen years. It had been an interesting life.
Looking down at the datapad in front of him, Austin got back to work. He had been reviewing details about one of the things he dreaded when it came to being the captain of a ship or, even worse, the commander of a task force: resupplying. His gaze had shifted over to a series of deep cuts in the metal wall of his quarters which had caused him to let his mind drift. It didn’t help that the two Warrior-classes weren’t exactly the greatest when it came to holding onto supplies. Luckily, his task force’s job was patrolling a sector of space where there were a number of New Republic worlds, and he was able to get supplies whenever and wherever he needed. However, the paperwork involved, that was the main problem. There seemed to never be an end of it.
Fighting the pirates that threatened from time to time, there was nothing wrong with that. He enjoyed that, and while he wished that he would have been given more resources and more ships, he understood that fighting pirates in the Outer Rim wasn’t the biggest concern of the New Republic’s. As much as he liked those Foundation guys, sometimes even they missed the problems of the guys like him. Austin knew that he’d fallen through the cracks a little. He had been a part of the New Republic in some incarnation for fifteen years, fighting successful battles, and he was only a Captain? It didn’t matter that much to Austin, as he was more content with the work he’d done than the recognition that he’d received. He wasn’t ridiculously decorated like some, and at the same time, he didn’t care for the decorations nor did he care about pieces of paper that said he was meritorious. In the end, as long as he knew that he was doing right and making a difference, that was all that mattered to him.
In this situation, their resupply had taken longer, because the Mon Hemura had taken on more pilots. The Mon Calamari cruiser had received a new squadron of fighters and the pilots to go along with the squadron. The Task Force’s fighter make up was simple. The Retribution held a squadron of A-Wings, Jawa Squadron, and a squadron of X-Wings, Damage Squadron. The Mon Hemura had a squadron of X-Wings, Bantha Barf Squadron, and the new squadron, a squadron of B-Wings, Blaster Squadron. This was the task force that Austin had been given in order to fight and stop the pirates from harassing trade lanes and the common New Republic citizen. He would make do with what he had available to him. And hope that it was enough.
With a sigh, Austin started signing the paperwork.
OOC: Edit: 1000 threads on the MBT!
Captain’s Quarters-Retribution
Austin Kislum leaned back in the chair that he was sitting in. His quarters weren’t the greatest, they weren’t even furnished that well. But he liked them, and they were his and had been his for many years. The Retribution had been “his” ship since he had joined the Rebel Alliance, a few short months after the Battle of Hoth. Austin had been twenty two then, eager and ready to do damage to the oppressive regime of the Empire that had hurt people that he cared about. A Corellian and damned proud of it, Austin had been nothing more than a gunner on board the Nebulon-B Frigate. Now, he was the ship’s captain, and the commander of a small New Republic task force. The Retribution wasn’t the largest ship in his task force, but he had chosen to remain on board the Neb-B instead of transferring over to a different vessel.
He had, under his command, the Retribution; the Dantooine and the Hopeful Sentry, two Warrior-class Gunships; and the largest vessel in the task force, the Mon Hemura, an MC-40a Cruiser. He had been given the option to transfer over to the Mon Hemura, but he had chosen not to, comfortably happy on board his Retribution. The vessel had seen a lot in it’s early days. It had been an Imperial ship before a daring Rebel raid when the ship had been in drydock undergoing some repairs. That had been an interesting fight from what he’d heard. He didn’t know what the ship had been named before hand, he just knew that when he’d gotten on board, he had never been off planet before, and Austin had known right then and there, that this was going to be the start of a great adventure. He was in his late thirties now, and he had been fighting Imperials for roughly fifteen years. It had been an interesting life.
Looking down at the datapad in front of him, Austin got back to work. He had been reviewing details about one of the things he dreaded when it came to being the captain of a ship or, even worse, the commander of a task force: resupplying. His gaze had shifted over to a series of deep cuts in the metal wall of his quarters which had caused him to let his mind drift. It didn’t help that the two Warrior-classes weren’t exactly the greatest when it came to holding onto supplies. Luckily, his task force’s job was patrolling a sector of space where there were a number of New Republic worlds, and he was able to get supplies whenever and wherever he needed. However, the paperwork involved, that was the main problem. There seemed to never be an end of it.
Fighting the pirates that threatened from time to time, there was nothing wrong with that. He enjoyed that, and while he wished that he would have been given more resources and more ships, he understood that fighting pirates in the Outer Rim wasn’t the biggest concern of the New Republic’s. As much as he liked those Foundation guys, sometimes even they missed the problems of the guys like him. Austin knew that he’d fallen through the cracks a little. He had been a part of the New Republic in some incarnation for fifteen years, fighting successful battles, and he was only a Captain? It didn’t matter that much to Austin, as he was more content with the work he’d done than the recognition that he’d received. He wasn’t ridiculously decorated like some, and at the same time, he didn’t care for the decorations nor did he care about pieces of paper that said he was meritorious. In the end, as long as he knew that he was doing right and making a difference, that was all that mattered to him.
In this situation, their resupply had taken longer, because the Mon Hemura had taken on more pilots. The Mon Calamari cruiser had received a new squadron of fighters and the pilots to go along with the squadron. The Task Force’s fighter make up was simple. The Retribution held a squadron of A-Wings, Jawa Squadron, and a squadron of X-Wings, Damage Squadron. The Mon Hemura had a squadron of X-Wings, Bantha Barf Squadron, and the new squadron, a squadron of B-Wings, Blaster Squadron. This was the task force that Austin had been given in order to fight and stop the pirates from harassing trade lanes and the common New Republic citizen. He would make do with what he had available to him. And hope that it was enough.
With a sigh, Austin started signing the paperwork.
OOC: Edit: 1000 threads on the MBT!
KING OF STRONG STYLE
Posts: 18884
Joined: Fri Feb 10, 2006 5:43 pm
Joined: Fri Feb 10, 2006 5:43 pm
Re: New Republic: The Enemy of My Enemy
Bridge-Retribution
The Commander of Task Force Retribution looked over the reports that were flowing onto his datapad. The Task Force had just been conducting a battle drill. The times were rather good, not as good as their all time high, but still, impressive numbers. In the end, he was happy with the results, and after a few more moments, he put the datapad away, appeased. Austin sat down in the captain’s chair of the Retribution, with a sigh. Things were good. They were in the process of hunting one particular pirates group, called the Mobisi Raiders. They were a fairly decent outfit. Operating out of a Kaloth-class Battlecruiser and a small group of Skipray Blastboats, the Mobisi Raiders had been able to pull off a series of daring raids and attacks. So far, their targets appeared to be simple trade convoys. They had a tendency to attack bacta shipments and convoys of mining companies. Why, Austin wasn’t too sure.
So he’d done a little digging. New Republic Intelligence had given him information on the economies of local New Republic systems and planets and the same information, or at least, what information was had, on worlds and systems in the area that were not affiliated or part of the New Republic. The information had been a blessing. He’d discovered that there were a few companies on a nearby New Republic planet that were in the process of rapidly expanding their business. While he didn’t have the ability to get an in depth and complete look at their finances, it was obvious that something was going on when it came to the raw ores and metals that were being stolen and these companies. Suffice to say, there was enough of a connection that it made sense to use this system as the center of activity and start checking possible entry and exit vectors. That kind of information would start to point him in the right direction, at the very least.
That much he could do, and the mapping was already under way. He’d gone through the Republic’s database and gotten all pertinent information on a Kaloth-class. After all, the Mobisi Raiders couldn’t haul their take on the Skiprays, they had to use the bigger cruiser. In the end, they were dependent on the Kaloth-class. While he didn’t doubt that the Mobisi Raiders had probably modified their vessel, he had to start with the assumption that they were operating with a Class 2 hyperdrive. This allowed him to take past attacks and the vector information and start pinpointing where they would probably jump to in order to lie low and keep the heat down.
From there, he intended on narrowing down the list with what intelligence assets he did have, which, in all honestly, wasn’t much. The best that he could really do, was send his Intelligence officers undercover to ask around.
CDF-NR expected him to fight this fight, but they were unable to give him all of the tools that he needed in order to win the fight. He would make do, because that was what he had been trained to do. Since the days of the Rebel Alliance, if there was one thing that he’d learned, it had been to make do with whatever he had available to him. Austin was waiting to hear back from the Intelligence officers that he’d sent out, before he was able to figure out what his next move was. With the Task Force having a good bit of downtime, he’d decided that instituting a few drills would keep everyone at the best of their game. The decision seemed to be paying off so far.
Austin turned to look at a Twi’lek Ensign who was walking towards him. “What is it?”
“The Mobisi Raiders have struck again, sir.”
Or maybe he was going to be forced to act before he wanted to.
The Commander of Task Force Retribution looked over the reports that were flowing onto his datapad. The Task Force had just been conducting a battle drill. The times were rather good, not as good as their all time high, but still, impressive numbers. In the end, he was happy with the results, and after a few more moments, he put the datapad away, appeased. Austin sat down in the captain’s chair of the Retribution, with a sigh. Things were good. They were in the process of hunting one particular pirates group, called the Mobisi Raiders. They were a fairly decent outfit. Operating out of a Kaloth-class Battlecruiser and a small group of Skipray Blastboats, the Mobisi Raiders had been able to pull off a series of daring raids and attacks. So far, their targets appeared to be simple trade convoys. They had a tendency to attack bacta shipments and convoys of mining companies. Why, Austin wasn’t too sure.
So he’d done a little digging. New Republic Intelligence had given him information on the economies of local New Republic systems and planets and the same information, or at least, what information was had, on worlds and systems in the area that were not affiliated or part of the New Republic. The information had been a blessing. He’d discovered that there were a few companies on a nearby New Republic planet that were in the process of rapidly expanding their business. While he didn’t have the ability to get an in depth and complete look at their finances, it was obvious that something was going on when it came to the raw ores and metals that were being stolen and these companies. Suffice to say, there was enough of a connection that it made sense to use this system as the center of activity and start checking possible entry and exit vectors. That kind of information would start to point him in the right direction, at the very least.
That much he could do, and the mapping was already under way. He’d gone through the Republic’s database and gotten all pertinent information on a Kaloth-class. After all, the Mobisi Raiders couldn’t haul their take on the Skiprays, they had to use the bigger cruiser. In the end, they were dependent on the Kaloth-class. While he didn’t doubt that the Mobisi Raiders had probably modified their vessel, he had to start with the assumption that they were operating with a Class 2 hyperdrive. This allowed him to take past attacks and the vector information and start pinpointing where they would probably jump to in order to lie low and keep the heat down.
From there, he intended on narrowing down the list with what intelligence assets he did have, which, in all honestly, wasn’t much. The best that he could really do, was send his Intelligence officers undercover to ask around.
CDF-NR expected him to fight this fight, but they were unable to give him all of the tools that he needed in order to win the fight. He would make do, because that was what he had been trained to do. Since the days of the Rebel Alliance, if there was one thing that he’d learned, it had been to make do with whatever he had available to him. Austin was waiting to hear back from the Intelligence officers that he’d sent out, before he was able to figure out what his next move was. With the Task Force having a good bit of downtime, he’d decided that instituting a few drills would keep everyone at the best of their game. The decision seemed to be paying off so far.
Austin turned to look at a Twi’lek Ensign who was walking towards him. “What is it?”
“The Mobisi Raiders have struck again, sir.”
Or maybe he was going to be forced to act before he wanted to.
KING OF STRONG STYLE
Posts: 18884
Joined: Fri Feb 10, 2006 5:43 pm
Joined: Fri Feb 10, 2006 5:43 pm
Re: New Republic: The Enemy of My Enemy
Bridge-Retribution
The datapad couldn’t begin to properly convey the damage that had been dealt. Austin’s reports had told him some, but his eyes could see so much more. Damage and devastation. It may not have been on as big of a scale as the battle raging over Mon Calamari, but to the people of this system, and to all the people that this affected, there had been a lot of pain dealt and a lot of future hardship that would have to be endured. He had arranged his taskforce in a defensive perimeter around the convoy that had been attacked. It didn’t make much sense at this point, but it was something. Austin knew that right then and there he was the most important New Republic official in the system. He had to project the security that the New Republic gave through his words and actions in order to give a sense of stability to the people. Appearances were everything, yes, especially in a system like this, that didn’t particularly care whether they were independent, part of the New Republic, part of the Empire, or part of some other entity.
All in all, a total of three cargo containers had been outright taken. Another two had been mangled, heavily damaged, and one had been completely destroyed. From what he’d seen, it fit the Mobisi Raider’s methods totally. They’d destroyed the one container to ensure that everyone knew that they meant business. If you wanted to try to defend yourself fine, but they didn’t care if they lost some of the cargo in order to get compliancy. Again, appearances were everything, and after they had conveyed the appearance that they meant business and would follow through with their threats, it had made the entire job go far more smoothly for them. The trade caravan’s protectors had been ordered to stand down. The NR planetary forces had been called up, but the Mobisi Raiders had been able to effectively combat a squadron of modified Z-95 Headhunters and a squadron of Y-Wings.
Austin didn’t expect that much from the NR Home Defense Corps. They were underpaid and understaffed in these areas, and many of them were counting on patriotism and heart to win battles for them. Without strategy they were often laid waste to by superior tactics. Unfortunately it happened. Austin looked down at his datapad, which listed the number of people who were dead from the home defense corps. The two squadrons had lost a total of seven people. Three of them had been Headhunter pilots and the other four had been Y-Wing pilots. The fighter craft had been lost as well. Three more pilots had been forced to eject. One of them, a Headhunter pilot, had seen his fighter crash into a cargo container. Thankfully, the other two machines had been successfully recovered.
The cargo container company had sent some people, and a small defense group to help keep their employees safe as they tried to sort through the mess. Austin had been dealing with the company’s commander for the past half an hour, and that one had thought that he’d been given a mandate by some deity and the Force to go after these pirates. Austin had calmly informed him that doing so was taking the law in his own hands and that realistically he had better leave it to the professionals. This hadn’t gone over too well, until Austin had reminded the man that the company had sent him in a single CR90 Corellian Corvette and a single squadron of Uglies. The Mobisi Raiders had far more firepower, and were better trained.
Austin always did love the joys of leadership.
The datapad couldn’t begin to properly convey the damage that had been dealt. Austin’s reports had told him some, but his eyes could see so much more. Damage and devastation. It may not have been on as big of a scale as the battle raging over Mon Calamari, but to the people of this system, and to all the people that this affected, there had been a lot of pain dealt and a lot of future hardship that would have to be endured. He had arranged his taskforce in a defensive perimeter around the convoy that had been attacked. It didn’t make much sense at this point, but it was something. Austin knew that right then and there he was the most important New Republic official in the system. He had to project the security that the New Republic gave through his words and actions in order to give a sense of stability to the people. Appearances were everything, yes, especially in a system like this, that didn’t particularly care whether they were independent, part of the New Republic, part of the Empire, or part of some other entity.
All in all, a total of three cargo containers had been outright taken. Another two had been mangled, heavily damaged, and one had been completely destroyed. From what he’d seen, it fit the Mobisi Raider’s methods totally. They’d destroyed the one container to ensure that everyone knew that they meant business. If you wanted to try to defend yourself fine, but they didn’t care if they lost some of the cargo in order to get compliancy. Again, appearances were everything, and after they had conveyed the appearance that they meant business and would follow through with their threats, it had made the entire job go far more smoothly for them. The trade caravan’s protectors had been ordered to stand down. The NR planetary forces had been called up, but the Mobisi Raiders had been able to effectively combat a squadron of modified Z-95 Headhunters and a squadron of Y-Wings.
Austin didn’t expect that much from the NR Home Defense Corps. They were underpaid and understaffed in these areas, and many of them were counting on patriotism and heart to win battles for them. Without strategy they were often laid waste to by superior tactics. Unfortunately it happened. Austin looked down at his datapad, which listed the number of people who were dead from the home defense corps. The two squadrons had lost a total of seven people. Three of them had been Headhunter pilots and the other four had been Y-Wing pilots. The fighter craft had been lost as well. Three more pilots had been forced to eject. One of them, a Headhunter pilot, had seen his fighter crash into a cargo container. Thankfully, the other two machines had been successfully recovered.
The cargo container company had sent some people, and a small defense group to help keep their employees safe as they tried to sort through the mess. Austin had been dealing with the company’s commander for the past half an hour, and that one had thought that he’d been given a mandate by some deity and the Force to go after these pirates. Austin had calmly informed him that doing so was taking the law in his own hands and that realistically he had better leave it to the professionals. This hadn’t gone over too well, until Austin had reminded the man that the company had sent him in a single CR90 Corellian Corvette and a single squadron of Uglies. The Mobisi Raiders had far more firepower, and were better trained.
Austin always did love the joys of leadership.
KING OF STRONG STYLE
Posts: 18884
Joined: Fri Feb 10, 2006 5:43 pm
Joined: Fri Feb 10, 2006 5:43 pm
Re: New Republic: The Enemy of My Enemy
Bridge-Retribution
He had hit upon a plan.
Austin had gotten in touch with the CEO of the cargo container company and had expressed his condolences at the loss of life, cargo, and machinery. The CEO had commiserated with him, and had shared with him that the company was losing a great deal of money to the pirates, particularly to the Mobisi Raiders. It was then that he’d shown an extreme amount of interest in doing something to get rid of the Raiders. His main problem was that he lacked the muscle to effectively combat the Raiders and knowledge of their organization. Austin had then known that he could do something with this interest, since he was able to provide both of the requirements. All he needed was something or someone who could act and would be willing to act, as bait. He had been given his solution to take down the Mobisi Raiders and it had been nicely gift wrapped. He’d started talking of the two men working together and the CEO had been rather happy to work with the New Republic commander.
They had started their planning in earnest. Since Austin knew what it was that the Mobisi Raiders liked to pirate, he was able to give the CEO a solid list to stock one of his convoys with. Next, the CEO made sure that he could reroute what he had and the convoy’s path so that this particular convoy would be a great target for the Raiders. After that, Austin hit upon the idea of having a few of the CEO’s pilots go on drunken spiels at various bars, some of whom were known Mobisi Raiders hangouts. Some of the pilots were indeed company men, and others were plants from Task Force Retribution’s own ranks. Concurrently, the CEO realized that they needed to ensure that the Mobisi Raiders would think that the NR pirate task force would be far from the area so that they could properly strike and advised Austin on what to do, with his knowledge of ship convoy times.
Together the two of them had put together a rather good plan. Now it just needed to be implemented. That was going to be the hard part. After all, no plan properly survived contact with the enemy. That was something that they both knew.
Austin was ready to do what needed to be done. He was fairly sure that the plan would be able to work, but he was going over the details on his datapad while he waited on the bridge. The plan was already in place, already implemented. His mind was just moving so fast, trying to make sure that he could think of everything that was going to happen. Austin knew that he couldn’t, but at the same time he needed to do it, because his mens’ lives were on the line and he was the one putting them there. If there was anything that he owed them, he owed them a little bit of time. Time was what made the difference between survival and death. That was something that he needed to ensure for the men and women under his command.
It had been what his purpose in life ever since he had taken over command of the Retribution.
He had hit upon a plan.
Austin had gotten in touch with the CEO of the cargo container company and had expressed his condolences at the loss of life, cargo, and machinery. The CEO had commiserated with him, and had shared with him that the company was losing a great deal of money to the pirates, particularly to the Mobisi Raiders. It was then that he’d shown an extreme amount of interest in doing something to get rid of the Raiders. His main problem was that he lacked the muscle to effectively combat the Raiders and knowledge of their organization. Austin had then known that he could do something with this interest, since he was able to provide both of the requirements. All he needed was something or someone who could act and would be willing to act, as bait. He had been given his solution to take down the Mobisi Raiders and it had been nicely gift wrapped. He’d started talking of the two men working together and the CEO had been rather happy to work with the New Republic commander.
They had started their planning in earnest. Since Austin knew what it was that the Mobisi Raiders liked to pirate, he was able to give the CEO a solid list to stock one of his convoys with. Next, the CEO made sure that he could reroute what he had and the convoy’s path so that this particular convoy would be a great target for the Raiders. After that, Austin hit upon the idea of having a few of the CEO’s pilots go on drunken spiels at various bars, some of whom were known Mobisi Raiders hangouts. Some of the pilots were indeed company men, and others were plants from Task Force Retribution’s own ranks. Concurrently, the CEO realized that they needed to ensure that the Mobisi Raiders would think that the NR pirate task force would be far from the area so that they could properly strike and advised Austin on what to do, with his knowledge of ship convoy times.
Together the two of them had put together a rather good plan. Now it just needed to be implemented. That was going to be the hard part. After all, no plan properly survived contact with the enemy. That was something that they both knew.
Austin was ready to do what needed to be done. He was fairly sure that the plan would be able to work, but he was going over the details on his datapad while he waited on the bridge. The plan was already in place, already implemented. His mind was just moving so fast, trying to make sure that he could think of everything that was going to happen. Austin knew that he couldn’t, but at the same time he needed to do it, because his mens’ lives were on the line and he was the one putting them there. If there was anything that he owed them, he owed them a little bit of time. Time was what made the difference between survival and death. That was something that he needed to ensure for the men and women under his command.
It had been what his purpose in life ever since he had taken over command of the Retribution.
KING OF STRONG STYLE
Posts: 18884
Joined: Fri Feb 10, 2006 5:43 pm
Joined: Fri Feb 10, 2006 5:43 pm
Re: New Republic: The Enemy of My Enemy
Bridge- Retribution
The turbolasers flew, slamming into the shields of the Kaloth-class Battlecruiser.
The plan had worked and it had worked rather well. The New Republic forces had lain in wait and the trap had been sprung. With fighters already launched and weapons and shields ready to go, the New Republic Task Force had unleashed hell upon the Mobisi Raiders. The group had arrived in system, and had begun their usual tactics against a trade convoy. What they hadn’t expected was for the company to have bolstered their defenses. In addition to Task Force Retribution, there was also a large chunk of the company’s security force protecting the convoy. The CEO of the company had brought in a total of two CR90 Corvettes, a squadron of uglies, and a squadron of modified Cloakshapes. Austin had instructed the company forces that their mission was to go after the three Skipray Blastboats, as those designs packed a powerful punch in one ship. They had been more than happy to go along with this idea.
After all, the bigger Kaloth-class would have been able to probably eat their forces alive. But against the superior firepower of Task Force Retribution, that was not the case. Austin had utilized his other ships to array themselves around the Mobisi Raiders’ lead vessel, in an attempt to block it from entering hyperspace. He was counting on their hyperdrive solutions officer to not be as adept at his job as he needed to be. It was a risk, but since he didn’t have any interdiction vessels, it was all that he could do. Requesting them would have taken time, time that Austin hadn’t had.
The plan had been geared around the idea of being fluid and was what some would have called “calling an audible”. Fir Caulrin, the leader of the Mobisi Raiders would be aware that there were ways out of the trap, but the question was whether or not he would be able to exploit the weakness apparent and inherent in the idea for his successful escape. So far, he was not showing much promise in that department. None at all as a matter of fact. The battle was raging, and the New Republic starfighters under Task Force Retribution were doing daring runs against the Kaloth-class. No one but the Mobisi Raiders were a hundred percent sure as to what exactly the modifications had been to the ship, but it was more than apparent that the vessel was not standard to its design.
The battle was already over. The pirates were drastically outgunned and out manned. Austin knew this and he was a little amazed that the pirates had kept going this long. Granted there was all that bother about reputations that needed to be upheld, but everyone involved in this fight knew that the pirates needed to surrender if they wanted to keep their lives. Austin had no issue with completely dismantling and systematically destroyed the pirates. He hated pirates. Almost as much as he hated the old Empire. The new Empire was different and he had reserved judgment on them for the time being.
He watched as the battle continued. And then it happened.
“Sir, Captain Fir Caulrin of the Mobisi Raiders is hailing us.”
“Patch him through.”
The turbolasers flew, slamming into the shields of the Kaloth-class Battlecruiser.
The plan had worked and it had worked rather well. The New Republic forces had lain in wait and the trap had been sprung. With fighters already launched and weapons and shields ready to go, the New Republic Task Force had unleashed hell upon the Mobisi Raiders. The group had arrived in system, and had begun their usual tactics against a trade convoy. What they hadn’t expected was for the company to have bolstered their defenses. In addition to Task Force Retribution, there was also a large chunk of the company’s security force protecting the convoy. The CEO of the company had brought in a total of two CR90 Corvettes, a squadron of uglies, and a squadron of modified Cloakshapes. Austin had instructed the company forces that their mission was to go after the three Skipray Blastboats, as those designs packed a powerful punch in one ship. They had been more than happy to go along with this idea.
After all, the bigger Kaloth-class would have been able to probably eat their forces alive. But against the superior firepower of Task Force Retribution, that was not the case. Austin had utilized his other ships to array themselves around the Mobisi Raiders’ lead vessel, in an attempt to block it from entering hyperspace. He was counting on their hyperdrive solutions officer to not be as adept at his job as he needed to be. It was a risk, but since he didn’t have any interdiction vessels, it was all that he could do. Requesting them would have taken time, time that Austin hadn’t had.
The plan had been geared around the idea of being fluid and was what some would have called “calling an audible”. Fir Caulrin, the leader of the Mobisi Raiders would be aware that there were ways out of the trap, but the question was whether or not he would be able to exploit the weakness apparent and inherent in the idea for his successful escape. So far, he was not showing much promise in that department. None at all as a matter of fact. The battle was raging, and the New Republic starfighters under Task Force Retribution were doing daring runs against the Kaloth-class. No one but the Mobisi Raiders were a hundred percent sure as to what exactly the modifications had been to the ship, but it was more than apparent that the vessel was not standard to its design.
The battle was already over. The pirates were drastically outgunned and out manned. Austin knew this and he was a little amazed that the pirates had kept going this long. Granted there was all that bother about reputations that needed to be upheld, but everyone involved in this fight knew that the pirates needed to surrender if they wanted to keep their lives. Austin had no issue with completely dismantling and systematically destroyed the pirates. He hated pirates. Almost as much as he hated the old Empire. The new Empire was different and he had reserved judgment on them for the time being.
He watched as the battle continued. And then it happened.
“Sir, Captain Fir Caulrin of the Mobisi Raiders is hailing us.”
“Patch him through.”
KING OF STRONG STYLE
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Joined: Fri Feb 10, 2006 5:43 pm
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Re: New Republic: The Enemy of My Enemy
Captain’s Quarters-Retribution
The surrender of the Mobisi Raiders had gone over well with Austin’s superiors. He’d used it to get a number of his crewmembers better leave options. They were in the Belgaroth system, resupplying and giving some of the crewmembers of Task Force Retribution shore leave. It was one of the things that he liked getting for his crew and in turn helped give them the motivation to put forward their best work for their commander. The relationship that he shared with his crewmembers was good, and he worked hard to keep it that way. The last thing he wanted was to not appreciate the hard work that the men and women of Task Force Retribution gave him, day in and day out. He appreciated it and wanted them to know it.
As for him, he was getting a good two to three days of leave himself, but he was taking it on board the vessel. There was nowhere for him to go, and he didn’t have any family, at least no immediate family. For him, his family was the Nebulon-B Frigate itself, and he loved his family. He was into his second day of leave and he had taken some time to head down to engineering to personally take a look at the engines and see what work needed to be done. He’d even lent a hand to some repairs and diagnostics. Whatever was needed to make sure that his baby continued to run properly.
He reached out and took the glass of wine that he had poured a few minutes earlier and took a good sip. Rising, he decided that it was time for him to check on what the holonet could give him. It was time, to find his hunters new targets. He wanted to make sure that he had something for the Task Force to sink their teeth into as soon as they got off of leave because he refused to let them waste time when they were on his time. His time was important. His datapad displayed reported pirate and bandit attacks throughout the New Republic.
Austin cracked his knuckles.
In order to properly hunt pirates, he needed to do a series of things. These people were like all people, creatures of habit. They followed certain protocol and certain tactics because they were what worked. The New Republic military and the Imperial military were the biggest offenders of this. But the pirates, they were not exempt. Once they’d found something that worked, it was all too easy to fall into the habit of continuing to rely on those things to ensure their victories. In addition, the first thing that he was going to do was sort the reports based off of the vessels identified in the attacks. That was the easiest way to catalogue pirate organizations, by the ships used in the attacks.
From there, he would keep narrowing it down. Once he had a few leads, he’d turn it over to the intel guys to see what they’d make of it.
The surrender of the Mobisi Raiders had gone over well with Austin’s superiors. He’d used it to get a number of his crewmembers better leave options. They were in the Belgaroth system, resupplying and giving some of the crewmembers of Task Force Retribution shore leave. It was one of the things that he liked getting for his crew and in turn helped give them the motivation to put forward their best work for their commander. The relationship that he shared with his crewmembers was good, and he worked hard to keep it that way. The last thing he wanted was to not appreciate the hard work that the men and women of Task Force Retribution gave him, day in and day out. He appreciated it and wanted them to know it.
As for him, he was getting a good two to three days of leave himself, but he was taking it on board the vessel. There was nowhere for him to go, and he didn’t have any family, at least no immediate family. For him, his family was the Nebulon-B Frigate itself, and he loved his family. He was into his second day of leave and he had taken some time to head down to engineering to personally take a look at the engines and see what work needed to be done. He’d even lent a hand to some repairs and diagnostics. Whatever was needed to make sure that his baby continued to run properly.
He reached out and took the glass of wine that he had poured a few minutes earlier and took a good sip. Rising, he decided that it was time for him to check on what the holonet could give him. It was time, to find his hunters new targets. He wanted to make sure that he had something for the Task Force to sink their teeth into as soon as they got off of leave because he refused to let them waste time when they were on his time. His time was important. His datapad displayed reported pirate and bandit attacks throughout the New Republic.
Austin cracked his knuckles.
In order to properly hunt pirates, he needed to do a series of things. These people were like all people, creatures of habit. They followed certain protocol and certain tactics because they were what worked. The New Republic military and the Imperial military were the biggest offenders of this. But the pirates, they were not exempt. Once they’d found something that worked, it was all too easy to fall into the habit of continuing to rely on those things to ensure their victories. In addition, the first thing that he was going to do was sort the reports based off of the vessels identified in the attacks. That was the easiest way to catalogue pirate organizations, by the ships used in the attacks.
From there, he would keep narrowing it down. Once he had a few leads, he’d turn it over to the intel guys to see what they’d make of it.
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Re: New Republic: The Enemy of My Enemy
Leave time came, leave time went.
Everyone was back from their rest and relaxation. The research that he had done, he had given it over to the Intelligence people in his Task Force and now it was time to let them do their jobs. Granted, Austin had put deadlines on them, and it would be time to enforce them soon, but he was going to give them the space that they needed. They were working and working hard to analyze the data that he’d worked on and whatever data that they were able to get from their own sources. The work that they were doing was extremely important. Often times, Austin had found, people did not appreciate the work that the intelligence folks did. Making sure that one had the best intelligence that one could, that was what won battles and wars. You could have all the supplies in the galaxy, and all the troops in the galaxy, but if you were fighting blind, then you could easily be taken advantage of and easily be put down.
The spooks were needed and he knew that NRI believed that to the fullest. Those guys were some serious spies. There were few organizations that could match or beat the NRI. If Austin had been able to get a Bothan, a Muir onboard, that would have been beautiful, but he knew what his job was. It was important, but in the grand scale of things, it wasn’t that important. A New Republic Task Force going after pirates and brigands? There were more important things going on in the galaxy and Austin knew this. Granted, he knew that at the same time, what he did, his job was still important and needed, because they could not forget the common man, the normal everyday citizen of the New Republic.
Austin was on the bridge, looking over his datapad. He was receiving reports from everything that was happening in Mon Calamari. Treniun was working it so that commanders in the field could receive standard five minute reports of the battle unfolding in the Dac system. From the reports, he understood that most of the fighting was over, but he still wanted to keep tabs on it. It always helped to knwo what was going on around them. The problem was that the pirates and all, especially those who operated in the New Republic were using this time to try to organize any and all jobs that they could. They had the time to do it and they knew that the New Republic was going to be so focused on other things.
Which made Austin’s job that much more important.
Setting the datapad down, he looked out at the bleakness of space, and he waited.
Everyone was back from their rest and relaxation. The research that he had done, he had given it over to the Intelligence people in his Task Force and now it was time to let them do their jobs. Granted, Austin had put deadlines on them, and it would be time to enforce them soon, but he was going to give them the space that they needed. They were working and working hard to analyze the data that he’d worked on and whatever data that they were able to get from their own sources. The work that they were doing was extremely important. Often times, Austin had found, people did not appreciate the work that the intelligence folks did. Making sure that one had the best intelligence that one could, that was what won battles and wars. You could have all the supplies in the galaxy, and all the troops in the galaxy, but if you were fighting blind, then you could easily be taken advantage of and easily be put down.
The spooks were needed and he knew that NRI believed that to the fullest. Those guys were some serious spies. There were few organizations that could match or beat the NRI. If Austin had been able to get a Bothan, a Muir onboard, that would have been beautiful, but he knew what his job was. It was important, but in the grand scale of things, it wasn’t that important. A New Republic Task Force going after pirates and brigands? There were more important things going on in the galaxy and Austin knew this. Granted, he knew that at the same time, what he did, his job was still important and needed, because they could not forget the common man, the normal everyday citizen of the New Republic.
Austin was on the bridge, looking over his datapad. He was receiving reports from everything that was happening in Mon Calamari. Treniun was working it so that commanders in the field could receive standard five minute reports of the battle unfolding in the Dac system. From the reports, he understood that most of the fighting was over, but he still wanted to keep tabs on it. It always helped to knwo what was going on around them. The problem was that the pirates and all, especially those who operated in the New Republic were using this time to try to organize any and all jobs that they could. They had the time to do it and they knew that the New Republic was going to be so focused on other things.
Which made Austin’s job that much more important.
Setting the datapad down, he looked out at the bleakness of space, and he waited.
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Re: New Republic: The Enemy of My Enemy
The name that the intelligence folks had come up with was the Razor Renegades. That was the end result from all of their various searches. This group was, by far, the one that was striking now the most. The intelligence that they had on them was sketchy, but a few pieces of it was solid and had been verified by higher sources. That was all that Austin had needed to see in order for it to get his approval for use. The Razor Renegades were a group of pirates and looters that specialized in attacking convoys but also in attacking planets themselves. Furthermore, their size and scope denoted a sense of organization that hadn't been present in the Mobisi Raiders. Fir Caulrin did not have the tactical sense that the leader of this group did. Suffice to say, Austin's task force lacked the power to defeat these foes. Not the physical firepower, because he figured that that he probably possessed. No, he didn't think that he had the tactical firepower needed in order to find these pirates. To find these pirates he needed to be able to become like the pirates. But almost all of his forces were decidedly New Republic in appearance.
Only the Retribution itself could be considered a possible pirate vessel. Who would believe that an MC-40 or a Warrior-class Gunship were pirate vessels? It seemed a bit far fetched and not something easily believed. He wasn't utilizing pirate ready fighters either, with the exception of the X-wings. He needed someone or some group that could appear to look like pirates to get close to the Renegades and root them out.
So he'd put a few calls out. Hopefully he'd have his solution soon. Before the next attack took place.
Only the Retribution itself could be considered a possible pirate vessel. Who would believe that an MC-40 or a Warrior-class Gunship were pirate vessels? It seemed a bit far fetched and not something easily believed. He wasn't utilizing pirate ready fighters either, with the exception of the X-wings. He needed someone or some group that could appear to look like pirates to get close to the Renegades and root them out.
So he'd put a few calls out. Hopefully he'd have his solution soon. Before the next attack took place.
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Re: New Republic: The Enemy of My Enemy
Some days after the Battle of Vespin VII...
Corona-class Frigate Audacious, in orbit via Vespin VII
"And you truly believe that we can disguise the task force as pirates, sir?" questioned Cyprien, leaning back in his chair.
His quarters were still mostly dark from having just woke up from the priority call from Commodore Brand back at Questral Falls Starbase. Am I not fully awake, or is he just not making sense? Cyprien took a sip of hot tea, letting caffiene and the aromas of chok flowers dispel sleepiness from his minds. Well, at least the tea tastes good, and my nightclothes are comfortable...and perhaps it's a good thing he's tolerating that now...The holo-projector in front of him displayed a stern man who seemed on the opposite end of the time spectrum; near ready for the end of his shift and the rack. Commodore Brand wearily nodded.
"The only thing not going for the whole pirate look of your fleet is the Audacious herself. But I'm sure that can be fixed with some work. You seem to think that you're be operating in the sector where your notoriety will have some effect."
Cyprien nodded, "Wouldn't that be correct, sir? I imagine it's going to have to be a short stint if Vespin VII is to be left unprotected..."
Brand sighed, "I thought so as well, but that is not to be the case. No, I'll come down in the Majestic for shake down cruises and watch over the planet. Doctor Etkins will probably feel more safe."
Cyprien managed a tight-lipped smile. Because he may likely be more safe. But one should not make assumptions quite like that. If the Majestic isn't fully operational, or fully crewed, he may be worse off than if the task force remained here. Let us hope that they do not return yet, for a long time. He rubbed a bit of sleep from his eyes.
"So it's a longer journey then, out of sector then, is it?" said Cyprien, "do you know where they will be sending us?"
The visage of a man shook his head, "Not precisely. I only have a set of rendezvous coordinates. You'll be meeting with Task Force Retribution. They've been dealing with some pirate problems of their own recently. I know the commanding officer is a Captain Kislum. I haven't heard much about him though, nothing to confirm though..." Brand glanced at his watch, "It is getting late, and you need to get your task force moving. Have a good morning, Captain."
"Good night Commodore."
With a curt nod, Brand winked out of existence and the holo-projector shut down, once again plunging Cyprien's quarters into darkness.
************************************************
Some Hours Later...
Corona-class Frigate Audacious, Deep Space
The Audacious plunged into realspace, followed by a host of smaller craft. To the rear and starboard of the frigate, the Templar cruised under Lieutenant Daleg Greggs with her heavily-drilled crew. Opposite of the Assassin-class Corvette and still behind the frigate, the Discril-class Attack Cruiser Republic Fire seemed to soar under the command of Lieutenant Larsan Seic'lar. The bothan had taken the brief time since the battle to repaint the insides of his ship in New Republic Gray and apparently had installed some sort of device liberated from the battle in the inside of the ship. Cyprien stared at the holos of the warships behind him. One day he'll learn that he can't fully rely on tricks and intelligence to carry the day...Around the three warships soared nearly a dozen of freighters converted into gunships and armed transports. They certainly look they could be turned into looking pirate craft. Wonder what this Captain Kislum's plan is? He tapped a button, showing a quartet of New Republic warships in front of his task force. So this is Task Force Retribution...Well, certainly has more firepower than we have. But I suppose that isn't the key to winning all battles, is it? He cleared his throat.
"Lieutenant Yalltir, see if you can get me a direct line with Captain Kislum. I believe he should be on the Retribution..."
"Understood sir."
Corona-class Frigate Audacious, in orbit via Vespin VII
"And you truly believe that we can disguise the task force as pirates, sir?" questioned Cyprien, leaning back in his chair.
His quarters were still mostly dark from having just woke up from the priority call from Commodore Brand back at Questral Falls Starbase. Am I not fully awake, or is he just not making sense? Cyprien took a sip of hot tea, letting caffiene and the aromas of chok flowers dispel sleepiness from his minds. Well, at least the tea tastes good, and my nightclothes are comfortable...and perhaps it's a good thing he's tolerating that now...The holo-projector in front of him displayed a stern man who seemed on the opposite end of the time spectrum; near ready for the end of his shift and the rack. Commodore Brand wearily nodded.
"The only thing not going for the whole pirate look of your fleet is the Audacious herself. But I'm sure that can be fixed with some work. You seem to think that you're be operating in the sector where your notoriety will have some effect."
Cyprien nodded, "Wouldn't that be correct, sir? I imagine it's going to have to be a short stint if Vespin VII is to be left unprotected..."
Brand sighed, "I thought so as well, but that is not to be the case. No, I'll come down in the Majestic for shake down cruises and watch over the planet. Doctor Etkins will probably feel more safe."
Cyprien managed a tight-lipped smile. Because he may likely be more safe. But one should not make assumptions quite like that. If the Majestic isn't fully operational, or fully crewed, he may be worse off than if the task force remained here. Let us hope that they do not return yet, for a long time. He rubbed a bit of sleep from his eyes.
"So it's a longer journey then, out of sector then, is it?" said Cyprien, "do you know where they will be sending us?"
The visage of a man shook his head, "Not precisely. I only have a set of rendezvous coordinates. You'll be meeting with Task Force Retribution. They've been dealing with some pirate problems of their own recently. I know the commanding officer is a Captain Kislum. I haven't heard much about him though, nothing to confirm though..." Brand glanced at his watch, "It is getting late, and you need to get your task force moving. Have a good morning, Captain."
"Good night Commodore."
With a curt nod, Brand winked out of existence and the holo-projector shut down, once again plunging Cyprien's quarters into darkness.
************************************************
Some Hours Later...
Corona-class Frigate Audacious, Deep Space
The Audacious plunged into realspace, followed by a host of smaller craft. To the rear and starboard of the frigate, the Templar cruised under Lieutenant Daleg Greggs with her heavily-drilled crew. Opposite of the Assassin-class Corvette and still behind the frigate, the Discril-class Attack Cruiser Republic Fire seemed to soar under the command of Lieutenant Larsan Seic'lar. The bothan had taken the brief time since the battle to repaint the insides of his ship in New Republic Gray and apparently had installed some sort of device liberated from the battle in the inside of the ship. Cyprien stared at the holos of the warships behind him. One day he'll learn that he can't fully rely on tricks and intelligence to carry the day...Around the three warships soared nearly a dozen of freighters converted into gunships and armed transports. They certainly look they could be turned into looking pirate craft. Wonder what this Captain Kislum's plan is? He tapped a button, showing a quartet of New Republic warships in front of his task force. So this is Task Force Retribution...Well, certainly has more firepower than we have. But I suppose that isn't the key to winning all battles, is it? He cleared his throat.
"Lieutenant Yalltir, see if you can get me a direct line with Captain Kislum. I believe he should be on the Retribution..."
"Understood sir."
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Re: New Republic: The Enemy of My Enemy
When Austin had found out who his reinforcements were, he'd been a little surprised. Granted, he'd heard nothing but good things about Task Force Audacious, but that wasn't too hard when what he'd heard had been little to nothing. He'd gotten reports on what had happened at Vespin VII and he had been on the bridge of the Retribution reading them from his datapad when the reversion had taken place. A few minutes later, when Task Force Audacious had come into communications range and the call had been placed, he'd just finished reading the reports. That whole university situation had been interesting, to say the least.
"Sir, we're being hailed by the Audacious." His comms officer said and Austin nodded slowly, giving the go ahead for the channel to be opened.
"Audacious, this is Captain Austin Kislum of the Retribution." He said. "I'm guessing you're my reinforcements, then?" He asked.
"Sir, we're being hailed by the Audacious." His comms officer said and Austin nodded slowly, giving the go ahead for the channel to be opened.
"Audacious, this is Captain Austin Kislum of the Retribution." He said. "I'm guessing you're my reinforcements, then?" He asked.
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Re: New Republic: The Enemy of My Enemy
Most of the bridge crew found themselves staring at Task Force Retribution with admiration. Sometimes I forget that there are actually somewhat more normal units than us. At least more normally equipped. And supposedly Captain Kislum here has been around to completely form this task force up. Perhaps I too will be lucky enough if I can Task Force Audacious to this size, but then again, Kislum has had more time to put his together, at least seniority wise. Yalltir cleared her throat and stared intently at the native of Jalarren. Cyprien tapped a button on his headset mike and listened to Austin.
Cyprien nodded, to no-one in particular, "We are. What is the plan?"
Cyprien nodded, to no-one in particular, "We are. What is the plan?"
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Re: New Republic: The Enemy of My Enemy
"As you can see, my forces are not conducive for proper intelligence gathering." Austin said. "I have intelligence collectors and assets as part of the task force, but there is only so much that they can do. My task force is not geared towards appearing like a pirate group and gaining intelligence through a wider number of channels." He said. "I am solely dependent on the little that I can get. This has, in the past, served my purposes well."
"But now?" Cyprien asked.
"But now, I'm dealing with a force that strikes entirely from the shadows. They currently have no patterned trends that would lend credence to an attack philosophy." Austin said. "I'm dealing with a group who has a completely modular force. There is no one vessel that is present in every attack attributed to this group. In order to find out their base of operations I need someone who will be able to get underneath their skin. Once the location has been ascertained, then I can bring Task Force Retribution's larger firepower to bear."
"But now?" Cyprien asked.
"But now, I'm dealing with a force that strikes entirely from the shadows. They currently have no patterned trends that would lend credence to an attack philosophy." Austin said. "I'm dealing with a group who has a completely modular force. There is no one vessel that is present in every attack attributed to this group. In order to find out their base of operations I need someone who will be able to get underneath their skin. Once the location has been ascertained, then I can bring Task Force Retribution's larger firepower to bear."
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Re: New Republic: The Enemy of My Enemy
Cyprien slowly nodded as he listened to Kislum. Well, this is certainly interesting. If you can't identify the pirates, or rather their ships, how does one catch them? Extensive tracking techniques like we use in the Tarabba Sector won't work if they're constantly changing ships. Traps are always an option, but they rely too much on the enemy's initiative. Another option is to play like the late Darth Vader, and simply scour everywhere with probots and scoutships to try and find their base. But that's probably too extensive of an operation for a fleet even four times larger than our two task forces combined. So how exactly do we get underneath their skin? Did he mean that in provoking them to attack, or as more of how to think like them? He shuddered. Or maybe even become them for a little bit, with some sort of infiltration? That's a possibility for several of our converted freighters, I suppose...Taillefer lightly tapped a button on his comlink.
“Did you have a certain plan or strategy in mind to get underneath their skin?” questioned the native of Jalarren.
“Did you have a certain plan or strategy in mind to get underneath their skin?” questioned the native of Jalarren.
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Re: New Republic: The Enemy of My Enemy
"That's where your Task Force would come in. What I'm proposing is that we create a fake pirate group, comprised of various vessels and fighters from your Task Force. You would conduct a number of missions in order to cement your status as pirates. I've established a contact within a small, but well known corporation that would be willing to let us conduct false raids on their ships and convoys. We can utilize Task Force Retribution to come after you, giving you legitimacy and making it appear that you are our next target. From there, it's on you."
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Re: New Republic: The Enemy of My Enemy
Cyprien nodded. Every ship in the task force can do that fairly easily save for the Audacious herself...It's what you get when you have a ramshackle fleet like my own, like the Rebel Alliance before us. At least we can follow in their footsteps. Disguising the Audacious to be something else...or at least not obviously a regular navy warship...I'll have to get Chief Indiers working on that soon He mentally sighed and tapped a button on his com headset. Hopefully he won't mind revealing his co-working corporation with us, but it's a secure, direct-line channel...
"I take it this company you've been working about knows about your current plans? With your permission, I'd like to get their information so I can talk to them personally about our upcoming mission..."
"I take it this company you've been working about knows about your current plans? With your permission, I'd like to get their information so I can talk to them personally about our upcoming mission..."
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Re: New Republic: The Enemy of My Enemy
Austin nodded. "It's a small time shipping company. Nothing too major. When we worked with them to bring down the Mobisi Raiders, they sent a large portion of their escort fleet and it was a total of two CR90 Corvettes, a squadron of uglies, and a squadron of modified Cloakshapes. That should give you an indicator of their cash flow and profits. They're capable, but they're not powerful enough to stop this group. All we really have is a name, Razor Renegades." Austin said. "I'm forwarding the contact information to you now in regards to the company. Alpha Star Line Shipping, and their CEO is a Devaronian named Torgish Wu'varil."
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Re: New Republic: The Enemy of My Enemy
Cyprien nodded. The two captains continued talking for a while about the area and general fleet scuttlebutt before they closed the communication's channel. There was only so much one could talk about before things had to start getting done. He seems like a good guy and a capable officer. Let's hope his contact is just as helpful. Cyprien scratched his head. And about things we can do right away...The native of Jalarren slowly rose from his chair.
"Officer Twensies, you have the bridge. I'll be in my quarters, Lieutenant Yalltir, can you get me holo lines with Captains Seic'lar and Greggs reroute it to my quarter's holo-projector?"
The woman nodded, "On it sir."
Several hallways and turns later, Cyprien found himself reclining in a padded chair next to his communication's terminal. When he had arrived, he had found two full-scale holos of the Duros and the Bothan already talking to each other, as if they shared the room together. Yalltir must have put them on a conference call with my terminal. That's probably what I should have told her to do explicitly. He shrugged and joined the visages of his fellow officers. Both of the holos stopped talking when joined them.
"Don't stop on my account," said Cyprien, "I take it one of you has found something interesting?"
"It's rumor really," said Daleb, "I was talking to Larsan here about an old friend who use to live in the area."
"We're pretty sure he doesn't," said the bothan.
Cyprien cocked his head to the side, "And how do you know that?"
"A bounty hunter him a while back. He didn't need to get taken alive either, so..."
Cyprien nodded, "And how does this have to relate to our mission?"
"He was leading a, well, a group of some sort," said Daleb, "they weren't always on the right side of the law."
"Pteros Wallace was an interesting man," said the bothan, "he dabbled in a bit of everything, from information brokering to doing a little bit of privateering for the Alliance back in the day. But he seems to have mostly been a bit of a smuggler. He and his people operated under the name of the Wallace Star Company."
"That's very descriptive," commented Cyprien dryly, "I'm sure if we take that name, we'll be striking fear into everyone's hearts."
"It's not," admitted the bothan, "but I think it's perfect for our use. Think about it, if we don't seem like a super tough pirate gang, one that only sort of has experience, do we seem like we're going to be easy pickings for a more experienced pirate group, particularly if we're the ones crossing into their territory? We should almost be as good as prey to them, but prey that's making their job toughier than it has to be by taking all of their resources and bringing down the law in the area."
Cyprien nodded. It makes sense to some degree, giving them multiple base motivations to go after us will ensure that even if we don't fully understand what the hell is going on here, they're more likely to go after us, particularly if we have that group's history. But if Wallace is dead, and that's a well-known fact, well, how are we going to work this? The blonde-haired man frowned.
"What happened to the original Wallace Star Company?" questioned Captain Taillefer.
"Well, his group sort of vanished and went their own ways when he died," said the bothan.
"So how are we going to form this group up then," said Cyprien, "if he's dead, and everyone knows it?"
The Duros let out what Cyprien guessed was a smile, "But what if Wallace had a son that no-one knew about, who just came of age? It's someone all of his old comrades could rally around, particularly if that son already has a few ships and a bunch of men kicking around. We could even give him the motivation of revenge to for his father, that could attract some more attention to him."
Cyprien frowned, "And who exactly ordered Wallace killed?"
"A Hutt crime lord," said Daleb, "Wallace apparently stole some cargo from him when he was doing a shipment for the Hutt, and refused to give it back. Rumor has it was a bunch of precious gems the hutt was going to use to bribe some planetary governor."
"We'd have to rephrase that though," said the bothan, "like Wallace has come to get his father's treasure of gemstones. And maybe he won't stop plundering the space lanes until it is returned to him?"
"That's doable," said Cyprien, "if we plan it with a few of the planetary authorities, obviously very much in secret. But we have something else to deal with. I want you two to do the best you can in turning our ships into piratical vessels, or rather, something that obviously makes it apparent that we're not Republic ships. Seic'lar, would it be possible for you to arrange some historical fabrications for our ships' aliases?"
The bothan hesitated, "I'll see what I can do. I don't know as many people around here, but I might have a few friends who have friends here...if that'll work for you."
"That'd be great," said Cyprien, "Daleb, while Seic'lar's taking care of that, I want you to do everything you can to make our ships physically look like that their Wallace's ships. I take it you know his paint schemes of old, or some of them, perhaps?"
She nodded, "I can. I can even do better than that. I know a few people of his old ring, sort of hanging around here. I could maybe arrange for their own ships to join ours."
"With them knowing what's actually going on?" said Cyprien, raising an eyebrow, "Or have them think that Wallace really does have a son?"
"I think it'd be best if they didn't know reality," advised the bothan, "I wouldn't trust any of them. They're all borderline good citizens...good people of convenience."
Cyprien supressed a smile. Seic'lar never really likes other spacers that aren't part of our navy. Not that I blame him, with his experience at least, that tends to be true. And then we have Daleb on the other hand with the opposite experience...Both of his officers turned to him.
"OpSec wll probably require us to keep them in the dark," said Cyprien, "but if you're uncomfortable with that, and I know how it is with old friends, particularly with keeping your reputation, then don't recruit them if you can't do that. We can't really guarantee anything good for them to happen. We can't pay them, and if they do something here that's really stupid, I won't be able to bail them out."
"Roger sir," said Daleb slowly, "I'll see what I can do."
"Believe me," said Seic'lar, "trying to find a disguise for the Audacious is going to be difficult enough; there aren't many civilian or non-governmental corona-class frigates out there. You might find that hard enough to do, Daleb."
Cyprien nodded, "I thought of that too. I decided we're going to make the Audacious look like more of a converted liner of some sorts. I'm going to have Chief Indiers add some extra duraplast prothesis to cover parts of the ship to make it not quite readily identifable as a Corona frigate, something for both of you to keep in mind..."
Cyprien glanced at his chrono, "I should be off to make a new call to a certain Devaronian. I leave it to both of you to your tasks."
The two aliens nodded and blinked out of existence. He tapped a button on his comlink.
"Lieutenant Yalltir?"
"Yes sir?"
"Can you get me a line to Torgish Wu'varil of Alpha Star Line Shipping? I'll take it right here."
"I'm on it sir."
"Officer Twensies, you have the bridge. I'll be in my quarters, Lieutenant Yalltir, can you get me holo lines with Captains Seic'lar and Greggs reroute it to my quarter's holo-projector?"
The woman nodded, "On it sir."
Several hallways and turns later, Cyprien found himself reclining in a padded chair next to his communication's terminal. When he had arrived, he had found two full-scale holos of the Duros and the Bothan already talking to each other, as if they shared the room together. Yalltir must have put them on a conference call with my terminal. That's probably what I should have told her to do explicitly. He shrugged and joined the visages of his fellow officers. Both of the holos stopped talking when joined them.
"Don't stop on my account," said Cyprien, "I take it one of you has found something interesting?"
"It's rumor really," said Daleb, "I was talking to Larsan here about an old friend who use to live in the area."
"We're pretty sure he doesn't," said the bothan.
Cyprien cocked his head to the side, "And how do you know that?"
"A bounty hunter him a while back. He didn't need to get taken alive either, so..."
Cyprien nodded, "And how does this have to relate to our mission?"
"He was leading a, well, a group of some sort," said Daleb, "they weren't always on the right side of the law."
"Pteros Wallace was an interesting man," said the bothan, "he dabbled in a bit of everything, from information brokering to doing a little bit of privateering for the Alliance back in the day. But he seems to have mostly been a bit of a smuggler. He and his people operated under the name of the Wallace Star Company."
"That's very descriptive," commented Cyprien dryly, "I'm sure if we take that name, we'll be striking fear into everyone's hearts."
"It's not," admitted the bothan, "but I think it's perfect for our use. Think about it, if we don't seem like a super tough pirate gang, one that only sort of has experience, do we seem like we're going to be easy pickings for a more experienced pirate group, particularly if we're the ones crossing into their territory? We should almost be as good as prey to them, but prey that's making their job toughier than it has to be by taking all of their resources and bringing down the law in the area."
Cyprien nodded. It makes sense to some degree, giving them multiple base motivations to go after us will ensure that even if we don't fully understand what the hell is going on here, they're more likely to go after us, particularly if we have that group's history. But if Wallace is dead, and that's a well-known fact, well, how are we going to work this? The blonde-haired man frowned.
"What happened to the original Wallace Star Company?" questioned Captain Taillefer.
"Well, his group sort of vanished and went their own ways when he died," said the bothan.
"So how are we going to form this group up then," said Cyprien, "if he's dead, and everyone knows it?"
The Duros let out what Cyprien guessed was a smile, "But what if Wallace had a son that no-one knew about, who just came of age? It's someone all of his old comrades could rally around, particularly if that son already has a few ships and a bunch of men kicking around. We could even give him the motivation of revenge to for his father, that could attract some more attention to him."
Cyprien frowned, "And who exactly ordered Wallace killed?"
"A Hutt crime lord," said Daleb, "Wallace apparently stole some cargo from him when he was doing a shipment for the Hutt, and refused to give it back. Rumor has it was a bunch of precious gems the hutt was going to use to bribe some planetary governor."
"We'd have to rephrase that though," said the bothan, "like Wallace has come to get his father's treasure of gemstones. And maybe he won't stop plundering the space lanes until it is returned to him?"
"That's doable," said Cyprien, "if we plan it with a few of the planetary authorities, obviously very much in secret. But we have something else to deal with. I want you two to do the best you can in turning our ships into piratical vessels, or rather, something that obviously makes it apparent that we're not Republic ships. Seic'lar, would it be possible for you to arrange some historical fabrications for our ships' aliases?"
The bothan hesitated, "I'll see what I can do. I don't know as many people around here, but I might have a few friends who have friends here...if that'll work for you."
"That'd be great," said Cyprien, "Daleb, while Seic'lar's taking care of that, I want you to do everything you can to make our ships physically look like that their Wallace's ships. I take it you know his paint schemes of old, or some of them, perhaps?"
She nodded, "I can. I can even do better than that. I know a few people of his old ring, sort of hanging around here. I could maybe arrange for their own ships to join ours."
"With them knowing what's actually going on?" said Cyprien, raising an eyebrow, "Or have them think that Wallace really does have a son?"
"I think it'd be best if they didn't know reality," advised the bothan, "I wouldn't trust any of them. They're all borderline good citizens...good people of convenience."
Cyprien supressed a smile. Seic'lar never really likes other spacers that aren't part of our navy. Not that I blame him, with his experience at least, that tends to be true. And then we have Daleb on the other hand with the opposite experience...Both of his officers turned to him.
"OpSec wll probably require us to keep them in the dark," said Cyprien, "but if you're uncomfortable with that, and I know how it is with old friends, particularly with keeping your reputation, then don't recruit them if you can't do that. We can't really guarantee anything good for them to happen. We can't pay them, and if they do something here that's really stupid, I won't be able to bail them out."
"Roger sir," said Daleb slowly, "I'll see what I can do."
"Believe me," said Seic'lar, "trying to find a disguise for the Audacious is going to be difficult enough; there aren't many civilian or non-governmental corona-class frigates out there. You might find that hard enough to do, Daleb."
Cyprien nodded, "I thought of that too. I decided we're going to make the Audacious look like more of a converted liner of some sorts. I'm going to have Chief Indiers add some extra duraplast prothesis to cover parts of the ship to make it not quite readily identifable as a Corona frigate, something for both of you to keep in mind..."
Cyprien glanced at his chrono, "I should be off to make a new call to a certain Devaronian. I leave it to both of you to your tasks."
The two aliens nodded and blinked out of existence. He tapped a button on his comlink.
"Lieutenant Yalltir?"
"Yes sir?"
"Can you get me a line to Torgish Wu'varil of Alpha Star Line Shipping? I'll take it right here."
"I'm on it sir."
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Re: New Republic: The Enemy of My Enemy
Alpha Star Line Shipping's headquarters were in a shady shadowport, named the Hub. Torgish Wu'varil was not the one who answered Taillefer's call, it was his secretary, a human male who seemed rather diminutive. The secretary welcomed Taillefer and put him on hold before going to get Torgish. The Devaronian came into view and sat down in front of the holo camera. "Captain, what can I do for you?" He asked.
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Re: New Republic: The Enemy of My Enemy
Cyprien paused and studied the alien warily.
"I'm under the understanding that you worked with Captain Kislum before wiping out some raiders..."
The alien regarded him with some annoyance. Here we go again, stating facts to those who did them, yet I have to show him some sort of credentials aside from a uniform and some basic communication's encrypting...well, here goes nothing...
"...we were wondering if you would be willing to lend us your assistance again, before these raiders begin to strike your own ships. I regret this may be a little bit more involved than the previous operation. You see, rather than trying to catch an already existing one, we're going to have to reestablish one, if you can catch my drift..."
"I'm under the understanding that you worked with Captain Kislum before wiping out some raiders..."
The alien regarded him with some annoyance. Here we go again, stating facts to those who did them, yet I have to show him some sort of credentials aside from a uniform and some basic communication's encrypting...well, here goes nothing...
"...we were wondering if you would be willing to lend us your assistance again, before these raiders begin to strike your own ships. I regret this may be a little bit more involved than the previous operation. You see, rather than trying to catch an already existing one, we're going to have to reestablish one, if you can catch my drift..."
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Re: New Republic: The Enemy of My Enemy
Torgish nodded slowly, giving a Devaronian's approximation of a smile. "Indeed, Captain, the Alpha Star Lines Shipping company did work with Captain Kislum. It was a successful partnership, we were able to rid the lanes of some rather vicious pirates and let business and life return to normal." He said, giving the impression that it also allowed the corporate pirates, those who had been legalized by government and tax codes to continue their work on people. "All in all, I think everyone came out of it happy, except the pirates, of course."
He clasped his hands in front of him, resting them over his belt buckle. "So you need my company's assistance once more? Very well, I can help, but it all depends on who we are waging this campaign against. My company, while influential, is not incredibly large. I don't have access to a sizable defense force. If I did, I wouldn't have been in the situation that I had been in when Captain Kislum came to my aid." He said. "Who are we going after, if I may inquire?"
He clasped his hands in front of him, resting them over his belt buckle. "So you need my company's assistance once more? Very well, I can help, but it all depends on who we are waging this campaign against. My company, while influential, is not incredibly large. I don't have access to a sizable defense force. If I did, I wouldn't have been in the situation that I had been in when Captain Kislum came to my aid." He said. "Who are we going after, if I may inquire?"
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Re: New Republic: The Enemy of My Enemy
"The Razor Renegades," said Cyprien softly, "according to Captain Kislum, they're becoming the largest criminal operation in the area. They're a bit of an interesting quarry, because they're not only hitting convoys now, and eventually, one of them will probably be yours if this continues, but also because they're making planetside raids. It's all rather bold and random..."
Cyprien's blue eyes scanned the alien as the Jalarren native talked, hoping to be able to better read his corporate counterpart. This is one of those times I wish I was Seic'lar. He could read this guy like an open book, which means I'll have to play it safe. Cyprien lightly rubbed his hand.
"To be honest sir, we're not even sure how strong this group is, so I'm not entirely sure how much firepower we need from your group. What we do need is your legitimacy..."
That probably sounds ridiculous...a government needing legitimacy from a small corporation...
"...we mean to catch these Razor Renegades by introducing some competition to them. As competition, our fake pirate group will need prey, but naturally, we don't wish to really prey on any honest merchant or business peoples like yourself. So, we were wondering if you would be willing to be our prey. Naturally, we will have to work out some details in advance to make it appear that we are actually harming your business, maybe stage a fake raid on one of your convoys. Is there any particular convoy or time that would work well for this sort of operation?"
Cyprien's blue eyes scanned the alien as the Jalarren native talked, hoping to be able to better read his corporate counterpart. This is one of those times I wish I was Seic'lar. He could read this guy like an open book, which means I'll have to play it safe. Cyprien lightly rubbed his hand.
"To be honest sir, we're not even sure how strong this group is, so I'm not entirely sure how much firepower we need from your group. What we do need is your legitimacy..."
That probably sounds ridiculous...a government needing legitimacy from a small corporation...
"...we mean to catch these Razor Renegades by introducing some competition to them. As competition, our fake pirate group will need prey, but naturally, we don't wish to really prey on any honest merchant or business peoples like yourself. So, we were wondering if you would be willing to be our prey. Naturally, we will have to work out some details in advance to make it appear that we are actually harming your business, maybe stage a fake raid on one of your convoys. Is there any particular convoy or time that would work well for this sort of operation?"
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Re: New Republic: The Enemy of My Enemy
The Devaronian nodded with another smile. "Of course, all of what you ask for can be arranged, Captain. An ingenious plan, it should allow you to pull these Razor Renegades out of hiding. I have heard of them, but I have been lucky to not have had to deal with them as of yet. But what I have heard has led me to believe that they're an incredibly dangerous group, not a collection of brigands that one would want to cross without preparation." He said. Looking down he checked a datapad that was handed him by his assistant and then looked back up a few moments later. "Yes, I see a convoy that could work for what you're looking for. I would just need some time to speak with the commander of the convoy to let him know what is going to happen. How much damage due you wish to cause with this first attack?" He asked. "Remember though if you favor my company though, someone might think that there is something going on."
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Re: New Republic: The Enemy of My Enemy
Cyprien let a slow smile blossom across his lips, "Naturally. We have some other plans to help establish our legitimacy, and so there are other things which I must take into account. But the attack on your convoy will likely be its highlight. As far as damaging your convoy, we intend to keep it to a minimum. Most likely we'll be using some very low-powered lasers to simulate knocking down your ships shields online, but your crews will likely have to lower them themselves with some coordination. That way, if these pirates do attack during our operation, which is an unlikely possibility, your ships will still be fully capable of defending themselves. When do you think your convoy will be ready for such an operation?"
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Re: New Republic: The Enemy of My Enemy
Torgish had to pause for a moment and contemplate. "The convoy is currently in transit. I'll give you their schedule, but I feel as though the smartest point to catch up would be in three standard days from today. They spend the longest time at this stop, it's a small, out of the way system, named Bareduut." The Devaronian said. "They're offloading a supply of foodstuffs and taking on scraps and spare sparts bound for Nkllon." He added and then stopped and thought for a moment. "Honestly, if I was a pirate, that's when I would try to go for them, if they have the schedule. There's enough people on Bareduut to make it a known and visible attack."
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Re: New Republic: The Enemy of My Enemy
Cyprien nodded, "Sounds excellent. I don't think we have anything more to discuss, though I'd appreciate recieving some contact information for that convoy's commander, just to smooth things over and go over some more minor details. I appreciate your time, sir, and wish you the best of luck in your endeavors..."
The two exchanged a few other pleasantries and elementary words before the holo-projector clicked off, leaving Cyprien alone with his thoughts. Three days is not as much as I would have hoped for, but it can be done. It's going to make our initial work disguising our ships sloppy, but we can improve it after that a little bit, we just give it time and make it look sort of like the originally sloppy work...Seic'lar and Greggs won't have the slightlest problem doing that with their ships, nor with our starfighters...but the Audacious herself...how am I going to pull that off? His mind went into overdrive, thinking of ways to disguise his frigate. The most obvious would be to simply change the transponder signal and slap on a new paint job, but if those were the only changes, it might not be long before people figured out that a New Republic task force that went missing in one area of space with the exact number and type of ships had simply reappeared in another area, and while perhaps Daleb's corvette was a relatively common ship, neither the Republic Fire or the Audacious were in civilian hands. Though at least the attack cruiser has a reputation for being a preferred piratical craft for those that can get their hands on them...so we're back at full turn, dealing with the Audacious...What if we changed the sensor profile of the ship, not including the fake hull panelling? Perhaps hide an engine or two or disguise the reactor's power output? That could work out fairly well, maybe just even keeping a few of those systems working powered down would at least change the basic sensor profile enough to not be a Corona frigate...that might have to work for now until we can think of something better...An idea gripped him. He tapped a button on his comlink.
"Seic'lar?"
"Yes Cyprien?"
"How hard would it be for us to get some external cargo containers, like the ones used on the larger bulk freighters?"
"There's a bunch laying around at the last fleet station we visited," answered the bothan, "or we could simply buy them somewhere locally, but it wouldn't be super cheap. What are you thinking about?"
"Ideas," replied Cyprien, "I'll talk to you about them later."
The two exchanged a few other pleasantries and elementary words before the holo-projector clicked off, leaving Cyprien alone with his thoughts. Three days is not as much as I would have hoped for, but it can be done. It's going to make our initial work disguising our ships sloppy, but we can improve it after that a little bit, we just give it time and make it look sort of like the originally sloppy work...Seic'lar and Greggs won't have the slightlest problem doing that with their ships, nor with our starfighters...but the Audacious herself...how am I going to pull that off? His mind went into overdrive, thinking of ways to disguise his frigate. The most obvious would be to simply change the transponder signal and slap on a new paint job, but if those were the only changes, it might not be long before people figured out that a New Republic task force that went missing in one area of space with the exact number and type of ships had simply reappeared in another area, and while perhaps Daleb's corvette was a relatively common ship, neither the Republic Fire or the Audacious were in civilian hands. Though at least the attack cruiser has a reputation for being a preferred piratical craft for those that can get their hands on them...so we're back at full turn, dealing with the Audacious...What if we changed the sensor profile of the ship, not including the fake hull panelling? Perhaps hide an engine or two or disguise the reactor's power output? That could work out fairly well, maybe just even keeping a few of those systems working powered down would at least change the basic sensor profile enough to not be a Corona frigate...that might have to work for now until we can think of something better...An idea gripped him. He tapped a button on his comlink.
"Seic'lar?"
"Yes Cyprien?"
"How hard would it be for us to get some external cargo containers, like the ones used on the larger bulk freighters?"
"There's a bunch laying around at the last fleet station we visited," answered the bothan, "or we could simply buy them somewhere locally, but it wouldn't be super cheap. What are you thinking about?"
"Ideas," replied Cyprien, "I'll talk to you about them later."
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Re: New Republic: The Enemy of My Enemy
Corona-class Frigate Audacious, Deep Space
"Go ahead Yalltir," said Cyprien, "flip the switch."
She nodded and tapped a few buttons on her console. Cyprien glanced around the room. Instead of the traditional New Republic uniforms, the bridge crew wore their own civilian clothes, but with a hexagonal patch bearing the words "Wallace Star Company". Several of the more senior and more well-known crewmembers had gone far enough as to dye their hair, add makeup, or add some other discrepancy to their official profiles to further reduce their chances of being identified as soldiers. Cyprien himself had taken to wearing a wig that gave him long, dark, and unruly hair, along with a prominent artificial mole, and set of contacts which gave him the eyes of his alleged father, the late Pteros Wallace. His clothing had been similarly chosen to match the style of the original head of the Wallace Star Company. Yet with the thick bantha-hide tunic and vibrorapier dangling from his lizardskin belt, Cyprien felt that he should be off plundering some outer rim world as a bandit rather than as a space captain. The Audacious had similarly undergone a refit, making it appear to be a heavily modified C-class Frigate. Indiers had fabricated duraplast panels which to break up the ship's profile and give the stern the larger and more boxy engine block of the older frigate, and Seic'lar had obtained a pair of cargo containers whose shells now covered up most of the warship's bow. With the flick of the switch, Yalltir had changed the transponder from the Republic's Audacious to the unaffiliated Wallace's Revenge. He cleared his throat.
"Let's make the jump."
The starship surged into hyperspace, followed closely by the Republic Fire, now the Moonstriker, and the Templar, now the Luck Jubilee. All three of the ships had been given a light paint job which dusted over the New Republic white's in a dappled gray and line markings in violet. Inscribed on their hulls in large, blocky lettering was Wallace Star Company. Cyprien had thought it somewhat overdone, yet both Seic'lar and Greggs had been insistent that not only was it done in the original Wallace Star Company style, but it also made it painfully obvious to anyone remotely near the ships who the craft belonged to. Cyprien glanced at his chrono.
"Time to target is one hour," said Lieutenant Toklar dryly, watching Cyprien, "you don't think this will be a hard mission, do you?"
The native of Jalarren shook his head. This little chance of physical danger this meeting, since we'll be "fighting" friends. But the real hard part about this will be making the attack look real enough to any observers in the area...that and hoping those around us don't get involved. Cyprien and Torgish Wu'varil of Alpha Star Line Shipping had decided to attack the conovy at Bareduut, a grassy world home to scattered groups of ranchers and a few small cities. Their defense forces were almost all entirely ground-based, assuring Cyprien that he'd have time to make the raid on the convoy without giving the planetary government much of a chance to react; by the time the few squadrons of starfighters they had exited the planet's atmosphere, Cyprien's group should be well away into hyperspace. If everything goes to according plan. Cyprien reviewed his notes and planning throughout the hour-long micro-jump, beginning to deeply analyze them. Toklar's gravelly voice interrupted the captain's thinking.
"Reverting in five, four, three, two, one..."
The warships flashed into realspace...
....Into an ongoing battle.
"Raise shields," demanded Cyprien, over the chaotic din of the bridge crew.
He glanced at his console. Well, they already did that, not that I should have had to told them in the first place...What the hell is going on? He glanced out of the viewport at the flashes of bright emerald and ruby light that leapt out from among the stars. A minute explosion rippled out of one of the Alpha Star Line freighters. He frowned. This isn't the light show we had planned...Let's see what we got here...a score of cloakshapes not registered to Alpha Star Lines and a pair of Vanguard heavy Gunships...is that a Class 1000 cruiser? Haven't seen one of those in a while...And transponders...well, it looks like we've found the Razor Renegades...
"Sir, what your orders?" said Twensies, "Can I change my weapons to full-power and fire on their Renegades?"
Cyprien nodded, "Go ahead...fire at will."
Well, this screws up all of our planning. If we don't fire upon the Star Line ships, they're going to know that we're fakes, if we do fire upon, we're actually going to hurting our friends...so how can we cover this up, and not get killed in the process? I bet the planetary defense force is going to be here soon too, and that's not going to make it any easier on us...if they come at all, this might be too big of a mess for them to want to handle it....He tapped a few buttons on his console...So, they've already disabled the freighter Alpha Lion...just maybe...maybe...
"Weapons," said Cyprien loudly, "begin to tractor the Alpha Lion. Let's see if we can't steal their prey."
He eyed the Class 1000 cruiser Razorwind cautiously. It's a lot more heavily-armed than we are, but its shielding looks like its really lacking...A Corellian Corvette is nearly as well-shielded, and its half the size of the cruiser. He began to rapidly type commands into his console, sending the disguised Templar in a high arc to flank the Razorwind from its topside as the Audacious would hammer away at its starboard shields. He glanced at the eratsz Moonstriker, noting that Seic'lar was already taking the attack cruiser in a long arc. That route bisects the convoy and should take the gunship to the Razorwind's portside in a matter of minutes. That'll work out just as well as my other idea, and Seic'lar know's what he's doing, he's probably giving the convoy some decent fire support against those Cloakshapes and gunships as well...
"Designate the Razorwind as our primary target," shouted Taillefer to Twensies, "and see if you can't disable one of those Vanguard gunships. I want at least one of the Razor vessel's captured..."
"Sir," said Lieutenant Fessk, "I've detected a pair of IPVs and two dozen snubfighters of various classes coming around Bareduut's orbit."
"The planetary defense force?" questioned the captain.
"It seems likely," agreed the bothan.
"ETA?"
"Fifteen minutes."
Wonderful. We're going to fighting the planetary defense forces as well at this rate...
"Permission to launch fighters?" said Eris.
"Denied," replied Taillefer, "not yet, but soon."
"Go ahead Yalltir," said Cyprien, "flip the switch."
She nodded and tapped a few buttons on her console. Cyprien glanced around the room. Instead of the traditional New Republic uniforms, the bridge crew wore their own civilian clothes, but with a hexagonal patch bearing the words "Wallace Star Company". Several of the more senior and more well-known crewmembers had gone far enough as to dye their hair, add makeup, or add some other discrepancy to their official profiles to further reduce their chances of being identified as soldiers. Cyprien himself had taken to wearing a wig that gave him long, dark, and unruly hair, along with a prominent artificial mole, and set of contacts which gave him the eyes of his alleged father, the late Pteros Wallace. His clothing had been similarly chosen to match the style of the original head of the Wallace Star Company. Yet with the thick bantha-hide tunic and vibrorapier dangling from his lizardskin belt, Cyprien felt that he should be off plundering some outer rim world as a bandit rather than as a space captain. The Audacious had similarly undergone a refit, making it appear to be a heavily modified C-class Frigate. Indiers had fabricated duraplast panels which to break up the ship's profile and give the stern the larger and more boxy engine block of the older frigate, and Seic'lar had obtained a pair of cargo containers whose shells now covered up most of the warship's bow. With the flick of the switch, Yalltir had changed the transponder from the Republic's Audacious to the unaffiliated Wallace's Revenge. He cleared his throat.
"Let's make the jump."
The starship surged into hyperspace, followed closely by the Republic Fire, now the Moonstriker, and the Templar, now the Luck Jubilee. All three of the ships had been given a light paint job which dusted over the New Republic white's in a dappled gray and line markings in violet. Inscribed on their hulls in large, blocky lettering was Wallace Star Company. Cyprien had thought it somewhat overdone, yet both Seic'lar and Greggs had been insistent that not only was it done in the original Wallace Star Company style, but it also made it painfully obvious to anyone remotely near the ships who the craft belonged to. Cyprien glanced at his chrono.
"Time to target is one hour," said Lieutenant Toklar dryly, watching Cyprien, "you don't think this will be a hard mission, do you?"
The native of Jalarren shook his head. This little chance of physical danger this meeting, since we'll be "fighting" friends. But the real hard part about this will be making the attack look real enough to any observers in the area...that and hoping those around us don't get involved. Cyprien and Torgish Wu'varil of Alpha Star Line Shipping had decided to attack the conovy at Bareduut, a grassy world home to scattered groups of ranchers and a few small cities. Their defense forces were almost all entirely ground-based, assuring Cyprien that he'd have time to make the raid on the convoy without giving the planetary government much of a chance to react; by the time the few squadrons of starfighters they had exited the planet's atmosphere, Cyprien's group should be well away into hyperspace. If everything goes to according plan. Cyprien reviewed his notes and planning throughout the hour-long micro-jump, beginning to deeply analyze them. Toklar's gravelly voice interrupted the captain's thinking.
"Reverting in five, four, three, two, one..."
The warships flashed into realspace...
....Into an ongoing battle.
"Raise shields," demanded Cyprien, over the chaotic din of the bridge crew.
He glanced at his console. Well, they already did that, not that I should have had to told them in the first place...What the hell is going on? He glanced out of the viewport at the flashes of bright emerald and ruby light that leapt out from among the stars. A minute explosion rippled out of one of the Alpha Star Line freighters. He frowned. This isn't the light show we had planned...Let's see what we got here...a score of cloakshapes not registered to Alpha Star Lines and a pair of Vanguard heavy Gunships...is that a Class 1000 cruiser? Haven't seen one of those in a while...And transponders...well, it looks like we've found the Razor Renegades...
"Sir, what your orders?" said Twensies, "Can I change my weapons to full-power and fire on their Renegades?"
Cyprien nodded, "Go ahead...fire at will."
Well, this screws up all of our planning. If we don't fire upon the Star Line ships, they're going to know that we're fakes, if we do fire upon, we're actually going to hurting our friends...so how can we cover this up, and not get killed in the process? I bet the planetary defense force is going to be here soon too, and that's not going to make it any easier on us...if they come at all, this might be too big of a mess for them to want to handle it....He tapped a few buttons on his console...So, they've already disabled the freighter Alpha Lion...just maybe...maybe...
"Weapons," said Cyprien loudly, "begin to tractor the Alpha Lion. Let's see if we can't steal their prey."
He eyed the Class 1000 cruiser Razorwind cautiously. It's a lot more heavily-armed than we are, but its shielding looks like its really lacking...A Corellian Corvette is nearly as well-shielded, and its half the size of the cruiser. He began to rapidly type commands into his console, sending the disguised Templar in a high arc to flank the Razorwind from its topside as the Audacious would hammer away at its starboard shields. He glanced at the eratsz Moonstriker, noting that Seic'lar was already taking the attack cruiser in a long arc. That route bisects the convoy and should take the gunship to the Razorwind's portside in a matter of minutes. That'll work out just as well as my other idea, and Seic'lar know's what he's doing, he's probably giving the convoy some decent fire support against those Cloakshapes and gunships as well...
"Designate the Razorwind as our primary target," shouted Taillefer to Twensies, "and see if you can't disable one of those Vanguard gunships. I want at least one of the Razor vessel's captured..."
"Sir," said Lieutenant Fessk, "I've detected a pair of IPVs and two dozen snubfighters of various classes coming around Bareduut's orbit."
"The planetary defense force?" questioned the captain.
"It seems likely," agreed the bothan.
"ETA?"
"Fifteen minutes."
Wonderful. We're going to fighting the planetary defense forces as well at this rate...
"Permission to launch fighters?" said Eris.
"Denied," replied Taillefer, "not yet, but soon."
Last edited by Cyprien Taillefer on Wed Feb 08, 2012 3:21 am, edited 1 time in total.
Posts: 157
Joined: Mon Dec 05, 2011 5:34 pm
Joined: Mon Dec 05, 2011 5:34 pm
Re: New Republic: The Enemy of My Enemy
Corona-class Frigate Audacious, near Bareduut
Cyprien raised a hand over his eyes, warding off the blinding light which briefly filled the frigate's viewport. As the light receded, the voices of his crew grew louder as the reports came in. He frowned and rapidly typed a few buttons. Seic'lar just took out one of those Vanguards with a particle beamer...the main power core must have detonated when its shields got overloaded. Each of those gunships has enough proton torpedoes in it to do a fair amount of damage as well, that couldn't have helped...He shook his head, driving the thoughts away as he looked at the crippled Alpha Lion; the decrepit freighter disappeared into the empty cargo container mounted on the frigate's dorsal side. Well, one thing taken care of. It's a hell of a good thing that most of the freighters managed to scatter when the Renegades showed up...The deck beneath his feet lightly rattled. And the Razorwind is at us again full power...The trio of disguised New Republic ships had managed to get a brief break when one of the Audacious' ion cannons overloaded a power conduit which fed several of the cruiser's turbolasers. That's apparently been fixed. What are our shields at? Are we really down to 25% already on our starboard side? Too soon... His stomach promptly contracted into a sickening knot.
"Helm," said the native of Jalarren, "roll us on our Z-axis; let's give them our undamaged shields to deal with..."
"Permission to launch fighters now?" said Eris.
Cyprien shook his head, "Almost, not yet."
The Razorwind and the other ships of Task Force Audacious seemed to flip over as the Audacious turned itself upside down. As they did, Cyprien noticed a subdued flash of red linger across the length of the Class 1000 cruiser as Seic'lar refocused the Republic Fire's particle beamers from the now destroyed Vanguard gunship unto the pirate ship. Cyprien rapidly typed a few buttons onto his console, bringing up Fessk's latest scans of the Razorwind. We've got her. With fire pouring in from all different sides, the cruiser didn't have the option to concentrate its defenses in one area, unlike the Republic warships. Whereas the Republic ships could maneuver like the Audacious to present undamaged sections of shielding to their opponent, the Razorwind's already low-powered shields were getting bashed from all sides. For its part, most of the Class 1000's turbolasers had concentrated on the Luck Jubilee, which Daleb had brought in to nearly point-blank range to hammer the cruiser's command tower directly. Cyprien eyed the Razorwind and the Luck Jubilee, whose bridge viewports stood face to face. That's got to be pretty unnerving, watching the other bridge crew react through the viewports to your own actions. That might be a good enough psychological ploy to mess their captain up, it'd be hard to think anything else besides the ship directly in your face...which blinds them to the real threat...He glanced at the Assassin-class corvette, noting a power surge sizzling across the Republic ship's hull. That's got to be messing up Daleb's sensors and targetting equipment at the very least, not that they really need it to hit anything at that range...But we're getting pretty close ourself...
"How close are we to the Razorwind?" questioned Captain Taillefer.
"Roughly three hundred meters from our bow to their stern," replied Fessk casually.
"And from our hangar bay to their stern?" pushed the blonde-haired man.
"Five hundred meters."
"Helm," said Cyprien, "put us on a course that would bring us parallel with the Razorwind, as if we're going to exchange broadsides, and ready the hangar doors to be opened..."
"You're thinking of a spitball, sir?" said Twensies, looking up from his console.
"I am," said Cyprien, "I'm thinking of their stern, maybe taking a few chunks out of the engine block. It's far enough from their main generator that we shouldn't have to worry about that...did you see a better target?"
"No," replied Twensies, "I'll begin to redirect my fire towards the defense forces with your permission."
Cyprien nodded in approval. The defense forces are still out of effective range, but the fact that we look hostile may be enough to make them hesitate long enough to let us get something done here first. That and it'll help convince everyone that we're not really on the right side, and yet we won't actually be harming them. The captain turned his attention to the Class 1000 cruiser looming in the frigate's viewport. The Wallace's Revenge abruptly angled off from its course, pulling most of the Razorwind's bulk to the far reaches of his viewport. Cyprien tapped a few buttons on his console, bringing up a visage of the pirate craft through the frigates side-mounted EPRs. He looked up at Flight Controller Eris.
"Open up the hangar doors," ordered Cyprien, "all fighters, fire missiles at will."
No sooner had the hangar doors of the frigate creeped open than torrents of missile fire erupted from the frigate's side. The Loran Spitball tactic essentially turned our three dozen starfighters into over seventy static missile launchers, and at this range, there's no chance the Razorwind's going to be able to react in time to destroy them...The warheads quickly pierced through the Razorwind's weakened shields and tore up the engine block; gouts of fire erupted from the farthest engine nozzle to the top of the cruiser's command tower. Lights flickered out across the pirate's ships hull; some came back on, powered by emergency power supplies, while most did not. Cyprien watched as Gregg's Luck Jubilee vectored up and away from the stricken craft while the Moonstriker coolly laid down covering fire with its odd assortment of dated particle beamers and oversized laser cannons. The Wallace's Revenge herself began to pull away from the stricken warship. Cyprien noted several escape pods jet out from near the Class 1000's flaming stern.
"Twensies," said Cyprien, "see if you can snag some of those escape pods the Razorwind's letting off. And let's get out of here."
Cyprien raised a hand over his eyes, warding off the blinding light which briefly filled the frigate's viewport. As the light receded, the voices of his crew grew louder as the reports came in. He frowned and rapidly typed a few buttons. Seic'lar just took out one of those Vanguards with a particle beamer...the main power core must have detonated when its shields got overloaded. Each of those gunships has enough proton torpedoes in it to do a fair amount of damage as well, that couldn't have helped...He shook his head, driving the thoughts away as he looked at the crippled Alpha Lion; the decrepit freighter disappeared into the empty cargo container mounted on the frigate's dorsal side. Well, one thing taken care of. It's a hell of a good thing that most of the freighters managed to scatter when the Renegades showed up...The deck beneath his feet lightly rattled. And the Razorwind is at us again full power...The trio of disguised New Republic ships had managed to get a brief break when one of the Audacious' ion cannons overloaded a power conduit which fed several of the cruiser's turbolasers. That's apparently been fixed. What are our shields at? Are we really down to 25% already on our starboard side? Too soon... His stomach promptly contracted into a sickening knot.
"Helm," said the native of Jalarren, "roll us on our Z-axis; let's give them our undamaged shields to deal with..."
"Permission to launch fighters now?" said Eris.
Cyprien shook his head, "Almost, not yet."
The Razorwind and the other ships of Task Force Audacious seemed to flip over as the Audacious turned itself upside down. As they did, Cyprien noticed a subdued flash of red linger across the length of the Class 1000 cruiser as Seic'lar refocused the Republic Fire's particle beamers from the now destroyed Vanguard gunship unto the pirate ship. Cyprien rapidly typed a few buttons onto his console, bringing up Fessk's latest scans of the Razorwind. We've got her. With fire pouring in from all different sides, the cruiser didn't have the option to concentrate its defenses in one area, unlike the Republic warships. Whereas the Republic ships could maneuver like the Audacious to present undamaged sections of shielding to their opponent, the Razorwind's already low-powered shields were getting bashed from all sides. For its part, most of the Class 1000's turbolasers had concentrated on the Luck Jubilee, which Daleb had brought in to nearly point-blank range to hammer the cruiser's command tower directly. Cyprien eyed the Razorwind and the Luck Jubilee, whose bridge viewports stood face to face. That's got to be pretty unnerving, watching the other bridge crew react through the viewports to your own actions. That might be a good enough psychological ploy to mess their captain up, it'd be hard to think anything else besides the ship directly in your face...which blinds them to the real threat...He glanced at the Assassin-class corvette, noting a power surge sizzling across the Republic ship's hull. That's got to be messing up Daleb's sensors and targetting equipment at the very least, not that they really need it to hit anything at that range...But we're getting pretty close ourself...
"How close are we to the Razorwind?" questioned Captain Taillefer.
"Roughly three hundred meters from our bow to their stern," replied Fessk casually.
"And from our hangar bay to their stern?" pushed the blonde-haired man.
"Five hundred meters."
"Helm," said Cyprien, "put us on a course that would bring us parallel with the Razorwind, as if we're going to exchange broadsides, and ready the hangar doors to be opened..."
"You're thinking of a spitball, sir?" said Twensies, looking up from his console.
"I am," said Cyprien, "I'm thinking of their stern, maybe taking a few chunks out of the engine block. It's far enough from their main generator that we shouldn't have to worry about that...did you see a better target?"
"No," replied Twensies, "I'll begin to redirect my fire towards the defense forces with your permission."
Cyprien nodded in approval. The defense forces are still out of effective range, but the fact that we look hostile may be enough to make them hesitate long enough to let us get something done here first. That and it'll help convince everyone that we're not really on the right side, and yet we won't actually be harming them. The captain turned his attention to the Class 1000 cruiser looming in the frigate's viewport. The Wallace's Revenge abruptly angled off from its course, pulling most of the Razorwind's bulk to the far reaches of his viewport. Cyprien tapped a few buttons on his console, bringing up a visage of the pirate craft through the frigates side-mounted EPRs. He looked up at Flight Controller Eris.
"Open up the hangar doors," ordered Cyprien, "all fighters, fire missiles at will."
No sooner had the hangar doors of the frigate creeped open than torrents of missile fire erupted from the frigate's side. The Loran Spitball tactic essentially turned our three dozen starfighters into over seventy static missile launchers, and at this range, there's no chance the Razorwind's going to be able to react in time to destroy them...The warheads quickly pierced through the Razorwind's weakened shields and tore up the engine block; gouts of fire erupted from the farthest engine nozzle to the top of the cruiser's command tower. Lights flickered out across the pirate's ships hull; some came back on, powered by emergency power supplies, while most did not. Cyprien watched as Gregg's Luck Jubilee vectored up and away from the stricken craft while the Moonstriker coolly laid down covering fire with its odd assortment of dated particle beamers and oversized laser cannons. The Wallace's Revenge herself began to pull away from the stricken warship. Cyprien noted several escape pods jet out from near the Class 1000's flaming stern.
"Twensies," said Cyprien, "see if you can snag some of those escape pods the Razorwind's letting off. And let's get out of here."
Posts: 157
Joined: Mon Dec 05, 2011 5:34 pm
Joined: Mon Dec 05, 2011 5:34 pm
Re: New Republic: The Enemy of My Enemy
The next day...
Captain's Quarters, Corona-class Frigate Audacious, masquerading as the Class C frigate Wallace's Revenge, Deep Space
"That was a mess."
Both Daleb and Cyprien bobbed their heads in agreement of Larsan's assessment. They say that no plan ever survives contact with the enemy, at least not completely, but nothing went according to plan. The Alpha Star Line ships were damaged to varying extents, and the Alpha Lion may need to be totaled. Bareduut's planetary defense forces got bloodied finishing off the Razorwind when we left, and while we didn't lose anyone, we may have come off as being too competent to be bumbling pirates, and even then, we may have seemed to friendly to the Alpha Star Line ships, even if we made it look like we captured the Lion. I suppose the only thing that went right is now the Renegades probably hate our guts...Cyprien reached for a bottle of Cambrian wine after Larsan had poured a glass for himself. He let the red wine flow into a crystal goblet. Cyprien rarely drank much, only on special occasions, but this was one of them: defeat.
"We have to soften our image," decided Taillefer, "of the Wallace Star Company, make them all think that that was a fluke."
"Alternatively," said Daleb, "we could alter our presentation of the Wallace gang to make them more tough and hardened. Maybe they did some mercenary work for some Hutts or something."
"Neither will be believable on their own," said the bothan, gazing wistfully at his glass of wine, "but what if we put them together?"
"How do you mean?" said the blonde-haired man, setting his glass down on the caf table.
"In-house struggle?" suggested the bothan, "like there is a group of hardened soldiers who have a clue what we're doing, and there is another part of the group who are completely blundering, and then there's some obvious infighting among the group? A house divided cannot stand sort of thing? That could be equally appetizing to the Renegades, particularly if they want some revenge to go with our list of possible motivations."
"Have the prisoners been talking?" interrupted the duros, "And I mean, anything useful?"
The Audacious had managed to snag a single escape pod from the Razorwind as the Republic ships fled the planetary defense force's arrival. The pod, designed to carry eight people, had only had three occupants. One of them had been a protocol droid captured by the pirates several raids ago, and while it was cooperative, it seemed to know little to nothing of strategic importance. Still, Seic'lar decided to take the droid back to his Republic Fire to better understand daily life under the renegades. Another prisoner had been an alien of sorts who Cyprien had not recognized, nor did he understand. Only one of the frigate's protocol droids had been able to understand him, and even then, the alien did not talk very much. The last prisoner was a wrinkled, middle-aged woman dressed in what could be considered piratical garb, yet she claimed to have been an unwilling prisoner aboard the Razorwind, yet her knowledge of ship systems and pirating in general seemed to be more extensive than it should be for a captive just taken off a luxury liner. Cyprien doubted they could trust a word she said without administering any sort of truth serum, whose use was illegal under Republic law. Perhaps the most worthless lot of prisoners we could take. Seic'lar raised a furry paw as he finished a sip of wine.
"Well, the droid has mentioned that female human we captured was a member of the crew, some sort of turbolaser gunner, and that the unknown alien was a fellow gunner. The droid apparently had to translate between the two. The alien could understand the human, but not the other way around apparently," said the bothan, "and I'm somewhat inclined to believe the droid on this part."
Cyprien nodded, "Seems to make sense to me, yet droids can be crafty because of that; everyone seems to think that they're programming can't be changed, but if he's with pirates, or an emancipated droid who's had time to develop a more complex personality or modify himself in some way..."
"He could be the trickest of them all," finished the duros, finally pouring a small glass of wine herself, "which puts us back at square one."
"We can do things to the droid," said the bothan, "it doesn't quite have the same rights as the others..."
"Droid's Right Activists would kill you just for insinuating that," observed Cyprien, "you're thinking of reprogramming the droid, or downloading its memory and sifting through it?"
"Already have," said Seic'lar sheepishly, "I suppose I should have asked you if that's all right, first."
"Probably, but I would have approved irregardless," said the man, "did you find anything useful."
"The droid's long-term memory appears to have been wiped. It only has knowledge of the past few days."
"It's probably a recent capture then," decided Daleb, "it probably doesn't know anything useful, except about the Razorwind, and since that's destroyed...well."
"It's worthless," said the man, "but the prisoners might still be useful. If you were a prisoner right now, what would you want to do?"
"Get my freedom is the obvious answer," said the bothan, "and rejoin my group is yet another one. You aren't thinking of the whole plant a tracking device on them or a ship we're going to let them steal, are you? That almost worked for Vader..."
"I was thinking of reprogramming the droid to work as our spy in their group," said the man, "but a variation of the same idea."
"No," said Daleb, "That might make us either look too idiotical, or simply so easy that it's obviously a trap. It's not really outlaw enough either."
"Well," said the man, "what if we were to do reprogram the droid and then maroon them somewhere? Outlawish enough? We could even send them on the same escape pod they came in..."
The bothan shrugged, "It's possible, particularly if we place the escape pod on a more shadowy route, but it's still chancy."
"But the prisoners aren't doing us any good here rotting in cells..."
"Let's give it a shot, but focus on to doing something else, like something against that Hutt that put the bounty on the original Wallace..."
*****************************************************************************************************************************
The next day...
Corona-class Frigate Audacious, masquerading as the Class-C Frigate Wallace's Revenge, Boutaes Asteroid Belt
"I don't think I believe you," decided Cyprien, looking over the holo visage of the woman.
In his disguise of Robert Wallace, Cyprien always felt awkward, and normally kept his words to a mininum, but the absurdity of the situation was all too amusing to not feel uncomfortable. From the bridge of her garbage scow, the woman scowled. Yes, we interdicted your garbage scow, Yarella the Hutt. We're dirtbags like that. Daleb had managed to talk to one of her old contacts in the area, and had found out about a small nav point far from the main lanes and little used by legitimate space travelers, though apparently it was a more common waypoint for the less scrupulous. In the last five hours, the Republic ships had encountered three other ships besides the scow, and had stopped them all for "inspection". One was a smuggler, and Cyprien had the several crates of illegal spice found onboard taken aboard his frigate for his "inspection" fee before letting the man go. Another one had been a slaver using an old, beat-up Gymnsor-3 Transport. He had been less fortunate, and Cyprien had arranged for the slaves to take over the ship and put the slaver in their old cells, and then let the ship leave. And the last ship before the garbage scow had been a bounty hunter working for Yarella the Hutt. Cyprien had promptly fired upon the craft once the bounty hunter had let his identity be known. Now the wreckage of his ship, the Ice Hunter, tumbled about aimlessly a kilometer away from the nav point.
"You can't possibly be so stupid enough to trouble her over her garbage," said the female captain, "she'd put a bounty on your head. You'll have bounty hunters crawling all over the sector looking for you."
Cyprien half-forced an overwide smile onto his face, "Do you see the remains of that ship over there? An hour ago, that was the Dengo Bubar's Ice Hunter, perhaps you've heard of it? That's what I think of your Hutt's boutny hunters. Did you know that somehow, one of them managed to kill my father? I think that just even mentioning them warrants inspecting your scow for contraband. Besides, even a Hutt's ships need protection every once and a while. I hear the Razor Renegades are just hitting everyone in the area. You should be thankful that we're keeping this area clear of them."
"She takes care of her own," snapped the woman, "I warn you."
Cyprien laughed, "What? You'll ram me? Why does the Hutt need her own garbage scowl? Must have something there she doesn't want anyone to know about, particularly if her scow is taking such a backwoods' route. What have you got for me, pretty? Maybe some sort of hazardous waste that she can't be legally disposing of? You know, maybe it's some bodies of her rivals...or those bodies of people who didn't take her bribes...or maybe you're just another one of her smugglers..."
"You're stupid."
Cyprien rested his hand on the hilt of his vibrorapier and pointed out of a viewport towards an asteroid, "Do you see over there? There's a little asteroid base, used to be a mining colony back in the day. Do you know who's there?"
She frowned, "Nobody now..."
Cyprien shook his head, "A couple of pirates who I crossed paths with. I thought marooning them there to starve to death would be suitable punishment for opposing me. they're lucky I even gave them a blaster pistol, but with only one charge. I figured that way, they can fight to see who gets to kill themselves the least painfully. Perhaps you'd care to join them. No? Tell you what, I'll cut you a deal. There's two parts, and then I'll let you leave. For starters, I'd like you to collect the remains of the Ice Hunter and bring them back to your mistress. Let's just start with that. I'll let you know the second part after the first, understand my dear?"
She nodded. Cyprien tapped a button, cutting the transmission out. Toklar turned to him and gave the man a rubbery smile. Well, at least I'm not the only one enjoying the absurdity of the situation...when did I think I would ever be using warships to tell garbage men to pick up trash, all when wearing such a ridiculous outfit? If my mother were to see me now...well....let's not go there...Cyprien shook the thoughts away. Fessk spun on his chair to face him.
"One of those trash pods has something different in it," said teh bothan, "It probably is illegal, at least to carry in that sort of pod, the way the radiation is bleeding through it..."
Cyprien shrugged, "And doubtlessly if our main mission was to ensure that the craft we are stopping was legal interdiction and safety inspections, I'd agree that it's worth noting, but this chance is too hard to miss. Fessk, how would you like to argue with me when she's done with that task?"
The bothan slowly nodded, "If that's what you want me to do."
"It is," said the native of Jalarren, "And Twensies, have our turbolaser gunners get ready to make shots worthy of making them graduates of the Stormtrooper Academy for Marksmanship."
The former Imperial slowly shook his head, and Cyprien wasn't sure if he was hurt by the reference, or amused. Too close, maybe? I'll talk to him afterwards, make sure everything is all right...Cyprien flipped through several screens on his command console, watching the garbage scow pick up the remains of the late Ice Hunter. And that's the last piece. Cyprien turned to Yalltir and nodded. The woman nodded and turn and signalled the garbage scow. The holo-visage of the female captain returned yet again. The woman somehow seemed more tame than before...Perhaps cowed by the Ice Hunter's destruction? Well, doesn't matter now...
"Ready for part two?" said Cyprien, leaning back in his chair.
She nodded sliently.
"I don't know Dalek," said Cyprien, turning to Fessk, "how about two minutes for this one?"
The sensor's operator shook his head, "I'd give her four minutes. I mean, her scow is pretty big and slow...."
"Three and forty seconds maybe?" contemplated Cyprien.
"What are you talking about?" said the other captain meekly.
"How long you and your barge will last when we decide who gets to use you for target practice," answered Fessk.
"You blundering idiot," said Cyprien, rising from his chair, "we never tell them that, fire at will!"
Yalltir cut out the transmission as the ships of Task Force Audacious began to take potshots at the fleeing garbage scow. Cyprien started the timer on his chrono. At least half of the shots fired from the Republic ships went completely wide. Most of the others haphazardly rocked the scow's shields but would have missed the ship otherwise, while a lucky few actually hit the scow. Cyprien watched as sparks flared from the scow as its port shield generator fizzled out. The scow abruptly turned and jumped into hyperspace. He stopped his chrono. Two minutes and thirteen seconds. Faster than I'd thought she'd take.
"Well," said Cyprien, "we should probably leave here before words gets out to Yarella or anyone else more powerful about what we're doing here..."
Captain's Quarters, Corona-class Frigate Audacious, masquerading as the Class C frigate Wallace's Revenge, Deep Space
"That was a mess."
Both Daleb and Cyprien bobbed their heads in agreement of Larsan's assessment. They say that no plan ever survives contact with the enemy, at least not completely, but nothing went according to plan. The Alpha Star Line ships were damaged to varying extents, and the Alpha Lion may need to be totaled. Bareduut's planetary defense forces got bloodied finishing off the Razorwind when we left, and while we didn't lose anyone, we may have come off as being too competent to be bumbling pirates, and even then, we may have seemed to friendly to the Alpha Star Line ships, even if we made it look like we captured the Lion. I suppose the only thing that went right is now the Renegades probably hate our guts...Cyprien reached for a bottle of Cambrian wine after Larsan had poured a glass for himself. He let the red wine flow into a crystal goblet. Cyprien rarely drank much, only on special occasions, but this was one of them: defeat.
"We have to soften our image," decided Taillefer, "of the Wallace Star Company, make them all think that that was a fluke."
"Alternatively," said Daleb, "we could alter our presentation of the Wallace gang to make them more tough and hardened. Maybe they did some mercenary work for some Hutts or something."
"Neither will be believable on their own," said the bothan, gazing wistfully at his glass of wine, "but what if we put them together?"
"How do you mean?" said the blonde-haired man, setting his glass down on the caf table.
"In-house struggle?" suggested the bothan, "like there is a group of hardened soldiers who have a clue what we're doing, and there is another part of the group who are completely blundering, and then there's some obvious infighting among the group? A house divided cannot stand sort of thing? That could be equally appetizing to the Renegades, particularly if they want some revenge to go with our list of possible motivations."
"Have the prisoners been talking?" interrupted the duros, "And I mean, anything useful?"
The Audacious had managed to snag a single escape pod from the Razorwind as the Republic ships fled the planetary defense force's arrival. The pod, designed to carry eight people, had only had three occupants. One of them had been a protocol droid captured by the pirates several raids ago, and while it was cooperative, it seemed to know little to nothing of strategic importance. Still, Seic'lar decided to take the droid back to his Republic Fire to better understand daily life under the renegades. Another prisoner had been an alien of sorts who Cyprien had not recognized, nor did he understand. Only one of the frigate's protocol droids had been able to understand him, and even then, the alien did not talk very much. The last prisoner was a wrinkled, middle-aged woman dressed in what could be considered piratical garb, yet she claimed to have been an unwilling prisoner aboard the Razorwind, yet her knowledge of ship systems and pirating in general seemed to be more extensive than it should be for a captive just taken off a luxury liner. Cyprien doubted they could trust a word she said without administering any sort of truth serum, whose use was illegal under Republic law. Perhaps the most worthless lot of prisoners we could take. Seic'lar raised a furry paw as he finished a sip of wine.
"Well, the droid has mentioned that female human we captured was a member of the crew, some sort of turbolaser gunner, and that the unknown alien was a fellow gunner. The droid apparently had to translate between the two. The alien could understand the human, but not the other way around apparently," said the bothan, "and I'm somewhat inclined to believe the droid on this part."
Cyprien nodded, "Seems to make sense to me, yet droids can be crafty because of that; everyone seems to think that they're programming can't be changed, but if he's with pirates, or an emancipated droid who's had time to develop a more complex personality or modify himself in some way..."
"He could be the trickest of them all," finished the duros, finally pouring a small glass of wine herself, "which puts us back at square one."
"We can do things to the droid," said the bothan, "it doesn't quite have the same rights as the others..."
"Droid's Right Activists would kill you just for insinuating that," observed Cyprien, "you're thinking of reprogramming the droid, or downloading its memory and sifting through it?"
"Already have," said Seic'lar sheepishly, "I suppose I should have asked you if that's all right, first."
"Probably, but I would have approved irregardless," said the man, "did you find anything useful."
"The droid's long-term memory appears to have been wiped. It only has knowledge of the past few days."
"It's probably a recent capture then," decided Daleb, "it probably doesn't know anything useful, except about the Razorwind, and since that's destroyed...well."
"It's worthless," said the man, "but the prisoners might still be useful. If you were a prisoner right now, what would you want to do?"
"Get my freedom is the obvious answer," said the bothan, "and rejoin my group is yet another one. You aren't thinking of the whole plant a tracking device on them or a ship we're going to let them steal, are you? That almost worked for Vader..."
"I was thinking of reprogramming the droid to work as our spy in their group," said the man, "but a variation of the same idea."
"No," said Daleb, "That might make us either look too idiotical, or simply so easy that it's obviously a trap. It's not really outlaw enough either."
"Well," said the man, "what if we were to do reprogram the droid and then maroon them somewhere? Outlawish enough? We could even send them on the same escape pod they came in..."
The bothan shrugged, "It's possible, particularly if we place the escape pod on a more shadowy route, but it's still chancy."
"But the prisoners aren't doing us any good here rotting in cells..."
"Let's give it a shot, but focus on to doing something else, like something against that Hutt that put the bounty on the original Wallace..."
*****************************************************************************************************************************
The next day...
Corona-class Frigate Audacious, masquerading as the Class-C Frigate Wallace's Revenge, Boutaes Asteroid Belt
"I don't think I believe you," decided Cyprien, looking over the holo visage of the woman.
In his disguise of Robert Wallace, Cyprien always felt awkward, and normally kept his words to a mininum, but the absurdity of the situation was all too amusing to not feel uncomfortable. From the bridge of her garbage scow, the woman scowled. Yes, we interdicted your garbage scow, Yarella the Hutt. We're dirtbags like that. Daleb had managed to talk to one of her old contacts in the area, and had found out about a small nav point far from the main lanes and little used by legitimate space travelers, though apparently it was a more common waypoint for the less scrupulous. In the last five hours, the Republic ships had encountered three other ships besides the scow, and had stopped them all for "inspection". One was a smuggler, and Cyprien had the several crates of illegal spice found onboard taken aboard his frigate for his "inspection" fee before letting the man go. Another one had been a slaver using an old, beat-up Gymnsor-3 Transport. He had been less fortunate, and Cyprien had arranged for the slaves to take over the ship and put the slaver in their old cells, and then let the ship leave. And the last ship before the garbage scow had been a bounty hunter working for Yarella the Hutt. Cyprien had promptly fired upon the craft once the bounty hunter had let his identity be known. Now the wreckage of his ship, the Ice Hunter, tumbled about aimlessly a kilometer away from the nav point.
"You can't possibly be so stupid enough to trouble her over her garbage," said the female captain, "she'd put a bounty on your head. You'll have bounty hunters crawling all over the sector looking for you."
Cyprien half-forced an overwide smile onto his face, "Do you see the remains of that ship over there? An hour ago, that was the Dengo Bubar's Ice Hunter, perhaps you've heard of it? That's what I think of your Hutt's boutny hunters. Did you know that somehow, one of them managed to kill my father? I think that just even mentioning them warrants inspecting your scow for contraband. Besides, even a Hutt's ships need protection every once and a while. I hear the Razor Renegades are just hitting everyone in the area. You should be thankful that we're keeping this area clear of them."
"She takes care of her own," snapped the woman, "I warn you."
Cyprien laughed, "What? You'll ram me? Why does the Hutt need her own garbage scowl? Must have something there she doesn't want anyone to know about, particularly if her scow is taking such a backwoods' route. What have you got for me, pretty? Maybe some sort of hazardous waste that she can't be legally disposing of? You know, maybe it's some bodies of her rivals...or those bodies of people who didn't take her bribes...or maybe you're just another one of her smugglers..."
"You're stupid."
Cyprien rested his hand on the hilt of his vibrorapier and pointed out of a viewport towards an asteroid, "Do you see over there? There's a little asteroid base, used to be a mining colony back in the day. Do you know who's there?"
She frowned, "Nobody now..."
Cyprien shook his head, "A couple of pirates who I crossed paths with. I thought marooning them there to starve to death would be suitable punishment for opposing me. they're lucky I even gave them a blaster pistol, but with only one charge. I figured that way, they can fight to see who gets to kill themselves the least painfully. Perhaps you'd care to join them. No? Tell you what, I'll cut you a deal. There's two parts, and then I'll let you leave. For starters, I'd like you to collect the remains of the Ice Hunter and bring them back to your mistress. Let's just start with that. I'll let you know the second part after the first, understand my dear?"
She nodded. Cyprien tapped a button, cutting the transmission out. Toklar turned to him and gave the man a rubbery smile. Well, at least I'm not the only one enjoying the absurdity of the situation...when did I think I would ever be using warships to tell garbage men to pick up trash, all when wearing such a ridiculous outfit? If my mother were to see me now...well....let's not go there...Cyprien shook the thoughts away. Fessk spun on his chair to face him.
"One of those trash pods has something different in it," said teh bothan, "It probably is illegal, at least to carry in that sort of pod, the way the radiation is bleeding through it..."
Cyprien shrugged, "And doubtlessly if our main mission was to ensure that the craft we are stopping was legal interdiction and safety inspections, I'd agree that it's worth noting, but this chance is too hard to miss. Fessk, how would you like to argue with me when she's done with that task?"
The bothan slowly nodded, "If that's what you want me to do."
"It is," said the native of Jalarren, "And Twensies, have our turbolaser gunners get ready to make shots worthy of making them graduates of the Stormtrooper Academy for Marksmanship."
The former Imperial slowly shook his head, and Cyprien wasn't sure if he was hurt by the reference, or amused. Too close, maybe? I'll talk to him afterwards, make sure everything is all right...Cyprien flipped through several screens on his command console, watching the garbage scow pick up the remains of the late Ice Hunter. And that's the last piece. Cyprien turned to Yalltir and nodded. The woman nodded and turn and signalled the garbage scow. The holo-visage of the female captain returned yet again. The woman somehow seemed more tame than before...Perhaps cowed by the Ice Hunter's destruction? Well, doesn't matter now...
"Ready for part two?" said Cyprien, leaning back in his chair.
She nodded sliently.
"I don't know Dalek," said Cyprien, turning to Fessk, "how about two minutes for this one?"
The sensor's operator shook his head, "I'd give her four minutes. I mean, her scow is pretty big and slow...."
"Three and forty seconds maybe?" contemplated Cyprien.
"What are you talking about?" said the other captain meekly.
"How long you and your barge will last when we decide who gets to use you for target practice," answered Fessk.
"You blundering idiot," said Cyprien, rising from his chair, "we never tell them that, fire at will!"
Yalltir cut out the transmission as the ships of Task Force Audacious began to take potshots at the fleeing garbage scow. Cyprien started the timer on his chrono. At least half of the shots fired from the Republic ships went completely wide. Most of the others haphazardly rocked the scow's shields but would have missed the ship otherwise, while a lucky few actually hit the scow. Cyprien watched as sparks flared from the scow as its port shield generator fizzled out. The scow abruptly turned and jumped into hyperspace. He stopped his chrono. Two minutes and thirteen seconds. Faster than I'd thought she'd take.
"Well," said Cyprien, "we should probably leave here before words gets out to Yarella or anyone else more powerful about what we're doing here..."
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Re: New Republic: The Enemy of My Enemy
Some days after the first interdiction raid...
Corona-class Frigate Audacious, masquerading as the Class C Frigate Wallace's Revenge, Deep Space
"What's our next move, sir?" asked Toklar.
Cyprien half-shrugged, not really wanting to talk about it. The Wallace's Revenge and her consorts had staged multiple interdiction missions on the lesser used runs. Each time, Cyprien had hoped to accidentally catch a starship belonging to the Razor Renegades, or be informed upon about their whereabouts by one of the ships they had stopped. Yet while they hadn't succeeded in drawing the renegades to them, they had managed to outrage the local black market and Yarella the Hutt. Yarella had set a rather high bounty of 50,000 credits on his persona of Robert Wallace. Cyprien guessed that the group had probably confiscated at least ten times the amount in stolen or illegal goods during their interdiction runs. Such tactics would be profitable for Robert Wallace if he was really a raider or pirate, but he was not. The hunt over the last weeks had been frustrating. Cyprien stroked his chin. Maybe we took out the bulk of the Renegades when we destroyed the Razorwind? But if they constantly are switching starships, how does that work? Might have taken care of a lot of the crew, but perhaps we haven't taken care of their support crew yet...The one real bright spot had been that the pirates and the droid they had marooned had been rescued by Yarella's people. But their reprogrammed espionage droid hadn't been real useful yet, as those marooned had been stuck in Yarella the Hutt's palace since their rescue by the Hutt's garbage scow. Yalltir cleared her throat.
"I'm getting a message from the droid," said the woman, "he's back at the Razor Renegade's base."
It's too good to be true...Cyprien rapidly pulled up Yalltir's screen and began reading the message. The droid never communicated via holo. Rather a subroutine in the droid's programming planted by Seic'lar simply condensed what the droid knew and transmitted through a variety of piggybacking schemes whenever the droid used its scomp-link. He scrolled through the droid's report. He sighed. Of course it would be a mobile base. It explains how they can never be tracked down...but a Vainglorious Cruiser? Even decommissioned and only partially working, that's far too big a target for Task Force Audacious to attack by itself, we'll have to call in Task Force Retribution in as well to take that out. But how do we transition from being Wallace's Star Company to being Task Force Audacious again? If we simply change transponders and take our disguises, we're going to have the Bareduut government pissed off at us...and the Wallace Star Company guise could prove to be a useful device for us later on...so it would have to appear that the Wallace Star Company would be working in league with the Republic, which is not good either...He sighed.
"Forward the report to Seic'lar and Greggs, please," said the man, "I need to think. I'll be in my quarters. Toklar, you have the bridge."
The man rose from the command chair. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, or so they say. The Wallace Star Company could attack the Renegades, Task Force Retribution could appear, and we could form a temporary public alliance to finish off the Renegades, and then break the truce once we've taken care of the base. The Wallace Star Company could fade away from the area, after allegedly being hunted out of the area by Task Force Retribution...that might work...time to make a call to Captain Kislum. Cyprien walked through the doors to his quarters and went straight to the holo-projector. He tapped a button on his comlink.
"Lieutenant Yalltir, see if you can get me a channel with Captain Austin Kislum of Task Force Retribution."
"On it sir, just give me a couple of minutes."
Cyprien took off the ridiculous wig of his persona and let his swordbelt and rapier clatter to the ground. I'm still going to look absolutely ridiculous to the man. But that's life...
Corona-class Frigate Audacious, masquerading as the Class C Frigate Wallace's Revenge, Deep Space
"What's our next move, sir?" asked Toklar.
Cyprien half-shrugged, not really wanting to talk about it. The Wallace's Revenge and her consorts had staged multiple interdiction missions on the lesser used runs. Each time, Cyprien had hoped to accidentally catch a starship belonging to the Razor Renegades, or be informed upon about their whereabouts by one of the ships they had stopped. Yet while they hadn't succeeded in drawing the renegades to them, they had managed to outrage the local black market and Yarella the Hutt. Yarella had set a rather high bounty of 50,000 credits on his persona of Robert Wallace. Cyprien guessed that the group had probably confiscated at least ten times the amount in stolen or illegal goods during their interdiction runs. Such tactics would be profitable for Robert Wallace if he was really a raider or pirate, but he was not. The hunt over the last weeks had been frustrating. Cyprien stroked his chin. Maybe we took out the bulk of the Renegades when we destroyed the Razorwind? But if they constantly are switching starships, how does that work? Might have taken care of a lot of the crew, but perhaps we haven't taken care of their support crew yet...The one real bright spot had been that the pirates and the droid they had marooned had been rescued by Yarella's people. But their reprogrammed espionage droid hadn't been real useful yet, as those marooned had been stuck in Yarella the Hutt's palace since their rescue by the Hutt's garbage scow. Yalltir cleared her throat.
"I'm getting a message from the droid," said the woman, "he's back at the Razor Renegade's base."
It's too good to be true...Cyprien rapidly pulled up Yalltir's screen and began reading the message. The droid never communicated via holo. Rather a subroutine in the droid's programming planted by Seic'lar simply condensed what the droid knew and transmitted through a variety of piggybacking schemes whenever the droid used its scomp-link. He scrolled through the droid's report. He sighed. Of course it would be a mobile base. It explains how they can never be tracked down...but a Vainglorious Cruiser? Even decommissioned and only partially working, that's far too big a target for Task Force Audacious to attack by itself, we'll have to call in Task Force Retribution in as well to take that out. But how do we transition from being Wallace's Star Company to being Task Force Audacious again? If we simply change transponders and take our disguises, we're going to have the Bareduut government pissed off at us...and the Wallace Star Company guise could prove to be a useful device for us later on...so it would have to appear that the Wallace Star Company would be working in league with the Republic, which is not good either...He sighed.
"Forward the report to Seic'lar and Greggs, please," said the man, "I need to think. I'll be in my quarters. Toklar, you have the bridge."
The man rose from the command chair. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, or so they say. The Wallace Star Company could attack the Renegades, Task Force Retribution could appear, and we could form a temporary public alliance to finish off the Renegades, and then break the truce once we've taken care of the base. The Wallace Star Company could fade away from the area, after allegedly being hunted out of the area by Task Force Retribution...that might work...time to make a call to Captain Kislum. Cyprien walked through the doors to his quarters and went straight to the holo-projector. He tapped a button on his comlink.
"Lieutenant Yalltir, see if you can get me a channel with Captain Austin Kislum of Task Force Retribution."
"On it sir, just give me a couple of minutes."
Cyprien took off the ridiculous wig of his persona and let his swordbelt and rapier clatter to the ground. I'm still going to look absolutely ridiculous to the man. But that's life...
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Re: New Republic: The Enemy of My Enemy
Ever since they had had the meeting, Austin had directed his efforts away from the Razor Renegades. It was something that had been needed to be done. He couldn't afford to interfere with Taillefer's plans nor did he want to. That would have been uncouth and as the commander of a Task Force he knew that he himself hated it when others breathed down his neck and didn't give him the time and space that he needed in order to produce results. One could not rush such a thing as this, that was something that Austin had learned the hard way many, many years ago. He had not wanted to interfere and so he hadn't, instead directing his forces towards other, also profitable, endeavors. They had encountered and skirmished with a small pirate group and he had been developing a series of plans on which to act upon. However, during everything that had happened, Austin had bee wondering what Cyprien had been doing. Waiting, to receive some news. In this game no news was news, he supposed. Still, he had decided to keep a closer watch on the rumor mill and see what sprung up.
He had been rewarded. Reports had slowly drifted in about what had happened with the Alpha Star Line Shipping company. The Razor Renegades had hit them pretty hard. Cyprien and his forces had been there, but Austin had only been able to confirm once he'd gotten a few high-res shots of the ships involved in the battle, and he'd spent a good deal of time analyzing the lead vessel. Whoever had been in charge of the make over had done excellent work, to say the least. Then it had been a simple step to confirm with the CEO of the shipping company, who had been rather adamant that the New Republic pay him something in compensation for being complicit with the CDF-NR's activities. Naturally, Austin had expected this and had put forward a proper request through the channels. Time would tell on that regard.
The fact that they needed money told a good story of what had happened and sold a good tale, in Austin's mind of the Wallace pirates.
When the call had come in from Task Force Audacious, it found Austin in his private quarters and he answered it personally. His only reaction to the other man's garb was a simple eyebrow raise. "Captain Taillefer," He said, "How can I help you?" He asked.
He had been rewarded. Reports had slowly drifted in about what had happened with the Alpha Star Line Shipping company. The Razor Renegades had hit them pretty hard. Cyprien and his forces had been there, but Austin had only been able to confirm once he'd gotten a few high-res shots of the ships involved in the battle, and he'd spent a good deal of time analyzing the lead vessel. Whoever had been in charge of the make over had done excellent work, to say the least. Then it had been a simple step to confirm with the CEO of the shipping company, who had been rather adamant that the New Republic pay him something in compensation for being complicit with the CDF-NR's activities. Naturally, Austin had expected this and had put forward a proper request through the channels. Time would tell on that regard.
The fact that they needed money told a good story of what had happened and sold a good tale, in Austin's mind of the Wallace pirates.
When the call had come in from Task Force Audacious, it found Austin in his private quarters and he answered it personally. His only reaction to the other man's garb was a simple eyebrow raise. "Captain Taillefer," He said, "How can I help you?" He asked.
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Re: New Republic: The Enemy of My Enemy
"I think we are at the point where we must join forces again," replied Cyprien.
The native of Jalarren tapped several buttons on his consoles, forwarding the reports and ship logs of his Task Force for the last few weeks. They'll give him a better idea than what I can convey in a conversation, especially the holo-footage of some of our encounters...Cyprien briefly described his task force's operations to the man, culminating in his revelation of that the reprogrammed protocol droid now walked aboard the Razor's Renegades' home base, the Vainglorious-class Heavy Cruiser Bandit's Blade. Though the Bandit's Blade frequently changed locations via its hyperdrives, with the droid onboard, the New Republic forces could track the roving base down in any number of remote systems the Renegades frequented, and destroy it. Cyprien loosened a button on his bantha-hide tunic and cleared his throat.
"From the report we've got from the droid," said the blonde-haired man, "the Bandit's Blade isn't a fully operational warship, but rather a ship that had been stripped of its weapons and sold off to work as a large merchant ship for a wealthier merchant. The pirates now use it as more of mobile space station. The Renegades have doubtlessly been able to add some weaponry to it, but I doubt they've ever used it as their main raiding ship: it'd be too big to not attract a lot of undue attention to it, and top of that, it's probably too slow. I think our main problem will be its starfighters. The droid reports that a lot of space that had been converted to cargo holds has been reconverted into hangar bays. They probably have enough ships in there to make it appear that they're always changing vessels because they've never had to concentrate their strength before, which probably would have been overkill for most of their operations previously. They'll be too much for my ships to handle by themselves, and I think that only your task force's superior fire power will be able to completely wipe them out decisively..."
Cyprien then explained his intent to Captain Kislum to maintain his ships charade of being the Wallace Star Company during the fight against the Bandit's Blade, and the group's being chased away out of the area by Task Force Retribution. Cyprien thought they could work out the specifics of that part after the Bandit's Blade had been destroyed; after all there was no point in getting ahead of oneself, which led the two in talking about battle plans to destroy the Blade.
"I'm not sure how you want to do this, and I'm open to a lot of suggestions, but I was originally thinking about jumping in my task force before your own, to try and draw out the Blade's starfighters and support craft far away the heavy cruiser. Once that's done, we'll have a good idea about what we're facing, and your task force could either jump in to help my forces out if we're far too overwhelmed, or alternatively, your ships could jump right to the Blade, which would then be fighterless, and take it out before they really have a chance to recall their fighters for their own defense. Once that's done, even if some of their ships survive, the pirates have essentially lost all of their support and logistics and probably their command structure, and I doubt they'll be a threat to anyone else for a long time. Did you have any ideas about how you'd like to proceed with this operation?"
The native of Jalarren tapped several buttons on his consoles, forwarding the reports and ship logs of his Task Force for the last few weeks. They'll give him a better idea than what I can convey in a conversation, especially the holo-footage of some of our encounters...Cyprien briefly described his task force's operations to the man, culminating in his revelation of that the reprogrammed protocol droid now walked aboard the Razor's Renegades' home base, the Vainglorious-class Heavy Cruiser Bandit's Blade. Though the Bandit's Blade frequently changed locations via its hyperdrives, with the droid onboard, the New Republic forces could track the roving base down in any number of remote systems the Renegades frequented, and destroy it. Cyprien loosened a button on his bantha-hide tunic and cleared his throat.
"From the report we've got from the droid," said the blonde-haired man, "the Bandit's Blade isn't a fully operational warship, but rather a ship that had been stripped of its weapons and sold off to work as a large merchant ship for a wealthier merchant. The pirates now use it as more of mobile space station. The Renegades have doubtlessly been able to add some weaponry to it, but I doubt they've ever used it as their main raiding ship: it'd be too big to not attract a lot of undue attention to it, and top of that, it's probably too slow. I think our main problem will be its starfighters. The droid reports that a lot of space that had been converted to cargo holds has been reconverted into hangar bays. They probably have enough ships in there to make it appear that they're always changing vessels because they've never had to concentrate their strength before, which probably would have been overkill for most of their operations previously. They'll be too much for my ships to handle by themselves, and I think that only your task force's superior fire power will be able to completely wipe them out decisively..."
Cyprien then explained his intent to Captain Kislum to maintain his ships charade of being the Wallace Star Company during the fight against the Bandit's Blade, and the group's being chased away out of the area by Task Force Retribution. Cyprien thought they could work out the specifics of that part after the Bandit's Blade had been destroyed; after all there was no point in getting ahead of oneself, which led the two in talking about battle plans to destroy the Blade.
"I'm not sure how you want to do this, and I'm open to a lot of suggestions, but I was originally thinking about jumping in my task force before your own, to try and draw out the Blade's starfighters and support craft far away the heavy cruiser. Once that's done, we'll have a good idea about what we're facing, and your task force could either jump in to help my forces out if we're far too overwhelmed, or alternatively, your ships could jump right to the Blade, which would then be fighterless, and take it out before they really have a chance to recall their fighters for their own defense. Once that's done, even if some of their ships survive, the pirates have essentially lost all of their support and logistics and probably their command structure, and I doubt they'll be a threat to anyone else for a long time. Did you have any ideas about how you'd like to proceed with this operation?"
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Re: New Republic: The Enemy of My Enemy
Austin sat back in his chair and considered everything that Taillefer had said. He asked for more information about a few things and the two had a back and forth until Austin considered himself knowledgeable enough about everything in order to make a qualified statement. "I think your plan makes the most sense. Honestly, I'm in favor of the second plan. If your reports are correct, and I don't doubt their accuracy, I think that the Renegades are definitely not the Wallace Star Company's biggest fans right now. Our plan most certainly should involve playing to that strength. I don't doubt that they will go after your forces as soon as you are within range. I'll get in touch with command and see if we might be able to rustle up something to provide us with a little bit more firepower." He said.
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Re: New Republic: The Enemy of My Enemy
Cyprien nodded in agreement. I'm not the smoothest operator yet when it comes to transitions. Perhaps I should to talk to Seic'lar about this afterwards? And Old Griz back at the academy did always say to let your opponents fall into traps of their own making...So how could we bait the Renegades into attacking us? We're not in very public locations in advance, ever, and there really isn't anyone to spy on us in this deep of space, meaning that we'll have to make our own spies, real or fake...Seic'lar will know how to handle that...Cyprien leaned back into his couch, wiping off a bit of makeup from his face.
"A thought just came to my mind. If we made known somehow that Wallace's Star Company was conducting some sort of trade deal deep space or some other activity nearby, but not super close to the Bandit's Blade, we might be able to lure most of the ship's starfighters and support vessels away from the cruiser, leaving it wide to an attack by your forces. And since neither the Republic or the Wallace Star Company ships will be in the same general area, it's reasonable enough to say that they never really worked together..."
"A thought just came to my mind. If we made known somehow that Wallace's Star Company was conducting some sort of trade deal deep space or some other activity nearby, but not super close to the Bandit's Blade, we might be able to lure most of the ship's starfighters and support vessels away from the cruiser, leaving it wide to an attack by your forces. And since neither the Republic or the Wallace Star Company ships will be in the same general area, it's reasonable enough to say that they never really worked together..."
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Re: New Republic: The Enemy of My Enemy
The Commander of Task Force Retribution smiled and nodded. "That would work, exceptionally." He said. "I think that's a plan that we can properly implement. It would be something that could very well allow us to maintain the facade that we aren't working together." He added. "When would want to do this? I can see if I can fast track that request for more firepower." Austin said.
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Re: New Republic: The Enemy of My Enemy
Cyprien idly tapped his fingers together, back and forth.
"Perhaps in a week, maybe two. I don't trust our ad hoc esponiage droid to last much longer than that, yet some time has to be given in order for both our assets to be mustered, and to inadvertently give the Razor's Renegades a heads up about the Wallace's Star Company's position," mused the man, "I'll have my people send you more specifics about the date and location as soon as we can make them up. Good luck in your endeavors, captain, and may be the Force be with you."
The other captain said a few things, and then the holo-projector's hum began to change as it entered a standby mode. Our best bet is to talk to Seic'lar, and see if we can somehow "sell" the information about a Wallace Star Company gathering to a large number of info-brokers. Only problem is, we may attract more than just the Renegades if we do that, but still, it's probably worth the risk....worse gets to worse, we can always call upon Task Force Retribution and whatever extra firepower Kislum's bringing to break us out of a situation...He tapped a button on his comlink.
"Larsan?"
The bothan's voice came back fuzzy, "Yes captain?"
"Do you think we can possibly sell the location of our fleet away to any information brokers your people know of in the area?"
The bothan hesitated, "Yes, I think so. Why? Thinking about trying to lead them into a trap?"
Cyprien nodded to no-one in particular, "Yes, I am. See if you can find a good spot somewhere near where the Bandit's Blade is roughly suppose to show up in a week, but at least several light years distance, perhaps a dozen minimum would be good."
"I'm on it."
**************************************************************************************************************************************************************
Slightly over a week later...
Corona-class Frigate Audacious, masquerading as the Class-C Frigate Wallace's Revenge, Deep Space
"Luck Jubilee is now in position," said Yalltir dryly.
Cyprien merely nodded. The Assassin-class Corvette had moved so close to the frigate that the two would appear to have been docked to a distant or nondiscerning eye. Seic'lar's own Moonstriker was also present, hovering just beneath the two other ships, yet it could not be easily seen. Seic'lar had finally activated the sensor shroud taken from the outlaw techs at Vespin VII they engaged over a month ago. That just give us a bit of advantage of surprise if we have someone get too close to us too soon. He glanced at his chrono. The meeting is supposedly going to start in ten minutes...so if they show up, will they attack before the meeting's underway, or during the meeting itself? There were advantages to both situations. If they attacked before the meeting actually took place, there would be some shifting of responsibilities and crew transfers going on between the ships, making coordination difficult for the Wallace Star Company, if they hadn't been the ones laying the trap. If they attacked during the meeting itself, the Renegades would might find that the two ship's coupled up together would be more vulnerable to attack physically, even if the two ships' cres would be more coordinated. And which one they chose tells us even more about them...not that we'll likely need to know that if Kislum and his people can take care of the Blade...The bridge crew was oddly silent, simply waiting for the storm to occur. Across the rest of the task force, crews settled quietly into their battle stations, all while to the outside world, the ships of the Wallace's Star Company seemed at ease and oblivious to the outside world. Lieutenant Yalltir abruptly cleared her throat.
"My passive sensors are picking up some light comm's chatter about ten kilometers away from here."
Cyprien turned to Fessk, "Can you see if we can get some thermal EPR coverage of the area that Yalltir is referring to?"
There were many ways to steathily stalk an opponent's ship. Many of the most efficient involved such gizmos as cloaking devices or sensor shrouds, but in the case of pirates, sometimes it was more likely the opposite approach: rather than use technology, they went without it by powering down various systems in order to keep power and radiation signatures down. If the ships were small, like most starfighters, their FST profiles would naturally be fairly small to begin with as well, making them hard to detect. But the problem with this approach was that not only was the technology immediately unavailable, but it did nothing to cloak the thermal signature of the pilots or equipment needed to survive the most basics of space travel. Fessk glanced up at Cyprien.
"I have slightly over forty signature's there. They're pretty faint, and I can't completely tell where some craft start and some begin."
"You're saying that they're flying in close formation," questioned the native of Jalarren.
"I'd say that's likely."
Cyprien tapped a button on his comlink, "Seic'lar, we have roughly forty contacts ten kilometers to our stern, probably all are starfighter sized and running with most systems powered down. Kindly take your ship and give them a surprise attack."
"On it sir."
"Perhaps in a week, maybe two. I don't trust our ad hoc esponiage droid to last much longer than that, yet some time has to be given in order for both our assets to be mustered, and to inadvertently give the Razor's Renegades a heads up about the Wallace's Star Company's position," mused the man, "I'll have my people send you more specifics about the date and location as soon as we can make them up. Good luck in your endeavors, captain, and may be the Force be with you."
The other captain said a few things, and then the holo-projector's hum began to change as it entered a standby mode. Our best bet is to talk to Seic'lar, and see if we can somehow "sell" the information about a Wallace Star Company gathering to a large number of info-brokers. Only problem is, we may attract more than just the Renegades if we do that, but still, it's probably worth the risk....worse gets to worse, we can always call upon Task Force Retribution and whatever extra firepower Kislum's bringing to break us out of a situation...He tapped a button on his comlink.
"Larsan?"
The bothan's voice came back fuzzy, "Yes captain?"
"Do you think we can possibly sell the location of our fleet away to any information brokers your people know of in the area?"
The bothan hesitated, "Yes, I think so. Why? Thinking about trying to lead them into a trap?"
Cyprien nodded to no-one in particular, "Yes, I am. See if you can find a good spot somewhere near where the Bandit's Blade is roughly suppose to show up in a week, but at least several light years distance, perhaps a dozen minimum would be good."
"I'm on it."
**************************************************************************************************************************************************************
Slightly over a week later...
Corona-class Frigate Audacious, masquerading as the Class-C Frigate Wallace's Revenge, Deep Space
"Luck Jubilee is now in position," said Yalltir dryly.
Cyprien merely nodded. The Assassin-class Corvette had moved so close to the frigate that the two would appear to have been docked to a distant or nondiscerning eye. Seic'lar's own Moonstriker was also present, hovering just beneath the two other ships, yet it could not be easily seen. Seic'lar had finally activated the sensor shroud taken from the outlaw techs at Vespin VII they engaged over a month ago. That just give us a bit of advantage of surprise if we have someone get too close to us too soon. He glanced at his chrono. The meeting is supposedly going to start in ten minutes...so if they show up, will they attack before the meeting's underway, or during the meeting itself? There were advantages to both situations. If they attacked before the meeting actually took place, there would be some shifting of responsibilities and crew transfers going on between the ships, making coordination difficult for the Wallace Star Company, if they hadn't been the ones laying the trap. If they attacked during the meeting itself, the Renegades would might find that the two ship's coupled up together would be more vulnerable to attack physically, even if the two ships' cres would be more coordinated. And which one they chose tells us even more about them...not that we'll likely need to know that if Kislum and his people can take care of the Blade...The bridge crew was oddly silent, simply waiting for the storm to occur. Across the rest of the task force, crews settled quietly into their battle stations, all while to the outside world, the ships of the Wallace's Star Company seemed at ease and oblivious to the outside world. Lieutenant Yalltir abruptly cleared her throat.
"My passive sensors are picking up some light comm's chatter about ten kilometers away from here."
Cyprien turned to Fessk, "Can you see if we can get some thermal EPR coverage of the area that Yalltir is referring to?"
There were many ways to steathily stalk an opponent's ship. Many of the most efficient involved such gizmos as cloaking devices or sensor shrouds, but in the case of pirates, sometimes it was more likely the opposite approach: rather than use technology, they went without it by powering down various systems in order to keep power and radiation signatures down. If the ships were small, like most starfighters, their FST profiles would naturally be fairly small to begin with as well, making them hard to detect. But the problem with this approach was that not only was the technology immediately unavailable, but it did nothing to cloak the thermal signature of the pilots or equipment needed to survive the most basics of space travel. Fessk glanced up at Cyprien.
"I have slightly over forty signature's there. They're pretty faint, and I can't completely tell where some craft start and some begin."
"You're saying that they're flying in close formation," questioned the native of Jalarren.
"I'd say that's likely."
Cyprien tapped a button on his comlink, "Seic'lar, we have roughly forty contacts ten kilometers to our stern, probably all are starfighter sized and running with most systems powered down. Kindly take your ship and give them a surprise attack."
"On it sir."
KING OF STRONG STYLE
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Re: New Republic: The Enemy of My Enemy
The Razor Renegades had formed up and had arrived in this system once the bait had been placed in front of them. They had been reeling from the battle that had taken place only a short while ago. But the necessary steps to regroup had been taken and they were back and ready to go. Their leaders had been rather upset, and understandably so, after everything that had happened. From there, they had been fiends for any and all information on the Wallace Star Company. They had gotten rumors and reports, but nothing concrete. For the first time, the shoe was on the opposite foot, and the leaders of the Razor Renegades hadn’t liked it. So they sent out even more probes, and had made a few examples of some information brokers. But then they’d finally gotten what they’d wanted. They’d gotten the report that they wanted, the rumor that they had been looking for.
As soon as they’d gotten word that the Wallace Star Company was going to be in one particular system at a given point in time, they’d started to marshall their forces and see who else they could get to help them. The goal of the Renegades’ leadership was to make an example of the Wallace Star Company. No one could challenge them. That was the goal of this fight. No one had dared to challenge them before the Wallace Star Company and the Razor Renegades were going to ensure that after this, no one else got the wise idea.
So they had assembled in system, and their strike force was composed of a Kathol Cruiser in the lead of all of their vessels. The rest of the strike force a motley group of designs from various corporations through the history of the galaxy. The Wallace Star Company didn’t know what was going to hit them, that was for sure. The plan was quite simple. They were going to do a pincer attack, keeping a portion of their force in reserve to make their enemy think that they were weaker.
The Bandit's Blade had been held in reserve in order to prepare for the attack.
As soon as they’d gotten word that the Wallace Star Company was going to be in one particular system at a given point in time, they’d started to marshall their forces and see who else they could get to help them. The goal of the Renegades’ leadership was to make an example of the Wallace Star Company. No one could challenge them. That was the goal of this fight. No one had dared to challenge them before the Wallace Star Company and the Razor Renegades were going to ensure that after this, no one else got the wise idea.
So they had assembled in system, and their strike force was composed of a Kathol Cruiser in the lead of all of their vessels. The rest of the strike force a motley group of designs from various corporations through the history of the galaxy. The Wallace Star Company didn’t know what was going to hit them, that was for sure. The plan was quite simple. They were going to do a pincer attack, keeping a portion of their force in reserve to make their enemy think that they were weaker.
The Bandit's Blade had been held in reserve in order to prepare for the attack.
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Re: New Republic: The Enemy of My Enemy
Corona-class Frigate Audacious, masquerading as the Class-C Frigate Wallace's Revenge, Deep Space
Cyprien stared at the space where Seic'lar's Moonstriker supposedly was. The bothan was intrigued by the sensor mask recovered from the tech base, which the outlaws had labelled as a sensor shroud, but Cyprien wasn't entirely sure what the difference was supposed to be. What he did know was that the holo-projections hiding the ship from visual sight wasn't perfect, as he could notice an odd refraction in the light given off by the distant stars. So not perfect, but still, if they aren't looking for it, Seic'lar might have a chance to get off a few shots before they realize what's going on...
"There's a lot of them powering up suddenly," observed Fessk.
Bright flashes of light errupted astern of the Revenge and the Luck Jubilee. Cyprien dialed his footage of the EPRs to a closer view, noticing the distant flares of light to be the ignition of starfighter engines. Seic'lar chose to abruptly reveal the Moonstriker in that moment: space seemed to ripple as the holo-projectors and other sensor countermeasures stopped to power up the gunship's weaponry. Solid swathes of harsh blue light erupted from the Moonstriker and lashed into the formation of pirate ships. The Renegades scattered, but most surged away from the marauding gunship straight towards the Wallace's Revenge and the Luck Jubilee. Cyprien curled his lip, noting a couple of minute explosions erupt around the Moonstriker. Well, at least we got a couple in the surprise attack...timing could have been better though.
"Break away from the Jubilee, and prepare to launch all starfighters on my count," ordered Cyprien, raising his voice among the dim of the bridge crew.
The Jubilee and Revenge jetted away from each other like the snapping of a wishbone, presenting their widening broadsides to piratical starships. We're making our profile a bit bigger and easier from the hit, but at least we can actually get some of our weapons to fire off on them...He rapidly searched through the screens of his bridge crew's consoles. What are we up against? Headhunters and X-wings, cloakshapes and uglies...the Renegades certainly do have a fairly wide assortment of craft...His blue eyes fluttered from his console to Flight Controller Eris, whose own eyes met his. Waiting for the order, as always. He glanced down at the screen, watching the enemy fighters' assault smash upon the frigate and her consort before receding like an ocean wave. As the enemy starfighters jetted away from the frigate, Cyprien gave the nod to Eris, scrambling the fighters out of the frigate's hangar. That should set up our fighters to start on their tails as they avoid our turbolaser fire. I hate these kinds of fights...Against capital ships, Cyprien could pick out the vulnerabilities in larger ships and devise ways to exploit it with his own ships, but fighting solely against starfighters was another thing altogether. If they didn't operate in uniform elements, like the Renegades were doing, it was very difficult to devise organized ways of constructively fighting the disorganized dogfighting which characterized starfighter combat, particularly since his own R-41s and T-wings were now along in the mix. The only thing we can do is become big targets and fire defensively...He tapped a button on his headset comlink.
"Jubilee, Moonstriker, let's form the spoke..."
Whereas many convoys would form a circle and use it as a perimeter defensive formation, Cyprien preferred to use the opposite: the unorthodox spoke formation. The Wallace's Revenge stood still as the Luck Jubilee and the Moonstriker jetted to form something that looked like a "Y", with all of the ships's engines facing each other, and the bows pointing outwards. Let's see how they handle this. He glanced at Eris, but the man was already alerting the New Republic fighters to stay away from the "spoke", where the capital ships gun batteries would frequently engage to render a deadly and undiscriminating crossfire which would rip apart any fighter that came too close to the formation. That should protect us well enough., now if only our fighters are up for the job...
Cyprien stared at the space where Seic'lar's Moonstriker supposedly was. The bothan was intrigued by the sensor mask recovered from the tech base, which the outlaws had labelled as a sensor shroud, but Cyprien wasn't entirely sure what the difference was supposed to be. What he did know was that the holo-projections hiding the ship from visual sight wasn't perfect, as he could notice an odd refraction in the light given off by the distant stars. So not perfect, but still, if they aren't looking for it, Seic'lar might have a chance to get off a few shots before they realize what's going on...
"There's a lot of them powering up suddenly," observed Fessk.
Bright flashes of light errupted astern of the Revenge and the Luck Jubilee. Cyprien dialed his footage of the EPRs to a closer view, noticing the distant flares of light to be the ignition of starfighter engines. Seic'lar chose to abruptly reveal the Moonstriker in that moment: space seemed to ripple as the holo-projectors and other sensor countermeasures stopped to power up the gunship's weaponry. Solid swathes of harsh blue light erupted from the Moonstriker and lashed into the formation of pirate ships. The Renegades scattered, but most surged away from the marauding gunship straight towards the Wallace's Revenge and the Luck Jubilee. Cyprien curled his lip, noting a couple of minute explosions erupt around the Moonstriker. Well, at least we got a couple in the surprise attack...timing could have been better though.
"Break away from the Jubilee, and prepare to launch all starfighters on my count," ordered Cyprien, raising his voice among the dim of the bridge crew.
The Jubilee and Revenge jetted away from each other like the snapping of a wishbone, presenting their widening broadsides to piratical starships. We're making our profile a bit bigger and easier from the hit, but at least we can actually get some of our weapons to fire off on them...He rapidly searched through the screens of his bridge crew's consoles. What are we up against? Headhunters and X-wings, cloakshapes and uglies...the Renegades certainly do have a fairly wide assortment of craft...His blue eyes fluttered from his console to Flight Controller Eris, whose own eyes met his. Waiting for the order, as always. He glanced down at the screen, watching the enemy fighters' assault smash upon the frigate and her consort before receding like an ocean wave. As the enemy starfighters jetted away from the frigate, Cyprien gave the nod to Eris, scrambling the fighters out of the frigate's hangar. That should set up our fighters to start on their tails as they avoid our turbolaser fire. I hate these kinds of fights...Against capital ships, Cyprien could pick out the vulnerabilities in larger ships and devise ways to exploit it with his own ships, but fighting solely against starfighters was another thing altogether. If they didn't operate in uniform elements, like the Renegades were doing, it was very difficult to devise organized ways of constructively fighting the disorganized dogfighting which characterized starfighter combat, particularly since his own R-41s and T-wings were now along in the mix. The only thing we can do is become big targets and fire defensively...He tapped a button on his headset comlink.
"Jubilee, Moonstriker, let's form the spoke..."
Whereas many convoys would form a circle and use it as a perimeter defensive formation, Cyprien preferred to use the opposite: the unorthodox spoke formation. The Wallace's Revenge stood still as the Luck Jubilee and the Moonstriker jetted to form something that looked like a "Y", with all of the ships's engines facing each other, and the bows pointing outwards. Let's see how they handle this. He glanced at Eris, but the man was already alerting the New Republic fighters to stay away from the "spoke", where the capital ships gun batteries would frequently engage to render a deadly and undiscriminating crossfire which would rip apart any fighter that came too close to the formation. That should protect us well enough., now if only our fighters are up for the job...
KING OF STRONG STYLE
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Re: New Republic: The Enemy of My Enemy
The captain in charge of the Kathol Cruiser knew what he was supposed to do. He was to provide heavy fire and to keep the Wallace Star Company busy. He, his crew, and his vessel were not part of the Renegades, but he’d been promised that they would let him into the group upon the successful completion of this fight. That was enough for him to do this job, especially if there was an added bonus of taking out a competitor. The Renegades knew that the Wallace Star Company would get suspicious if the Bandit’s Blade wasn’t in system soon. All that they were up against right then and there was a Kathol Cruiser and a very large group of fighters.
But his hyperspace officer was hard at work, computing a complicated series of calculations that would allow the Razor Renegades to do the job that needed to be done. All they were there to do was to buy time and soften up their enemy. That was what he would do, to the best of his ability. All of his turbolasers were split as equally as possible against his various targets. He only had the rough firepower of a Nebulon-B Frigate. He could only hope that the transmission of the calculations that had been sent had gotten through.
But his hyperspace officer was hard at work, computing a complicated series of calculations that would allow the Razor Renegades to do the job that needed to be done. All they were there to do was to buy time and soften up their enemy. That was what he would do, to the best of his ability. All of his turbolasers were split as equally as possible against his various targets. He only had the rough firepower of a Nebulon-B Frigate. He could only hope that the transmission of the calculations that had been sent had gotten through.
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Re: New Republic: The Enemy of My Enemy
"We have a Kaloth-class Cruiser entering the battlefield," noted Fessk, "roughly twenty-five klicks away from us, it looks like they're going to hit the Republic Fire head-on."
Cyprien silently cursed. The droid didn't say anything about them having a Kaloth battlecruiser, so apparently that means we've been acting on incomplete intelligence, which means that this entire plan could be ruined. He sighed. And the Fire is hardly the sort of ship to be able to take on a Kaloth. We're evenly matched in terms of firepower, and no-one ever decisively wins fights like that. We're lucky the spoke formation has been able to give our fighters a slight edge in all-round support firepower, that's going to have to change now. He cleared his throat.
"Standby to break the spoke formation," said Cyprien tenatively, "Toklar, plot a course for nav point Beta Eight Niner. All ships will follow us to that point.”
The Mon Calamari nodded his bulbous head, “Yes sir.”
Yalltir acknowledged the order as well and relayed the information to the other ships as well. The spoke of ships broke apart, with the Audacious slowly jetting away forward and directly away from the oncoming Kaloth-class Battlecruiser. The Republic Fire and the Templar both looped around to run parallel to the Audacious' path. Cyprien studied the opposing frigate. It's still rather slow, which is good. Yet those tractor beam projectors on the prongs could prove to be a problem for either the Templar or the Fire, especially fire, since it's so small. He frowned and glanced up at Flight Controller Eris.
“How are our fighters doing?”
Eris hesitated, “They're about equal to the opposing force. The pirates have some X-wings and a few other more advanced craft than we do, but the R-41s' ion cannons are pretty much making up for that advantage. Numerically, we're doing better off, but that's only because our fighters have had capital ship support, but now that's another advantage axed off.”
“Recall all fighters to the protection of our guns,” decided Cyprien, “but only through a specific corridor. Twensies, coordinate with Eris here and fill the other sectors with suppressive fire to cover their withdrawal.”
As those two men got to work, Cyprien flipped his console screen over to sensor readout of the battlefield. We're gaining some distance on the slow Kaloth, and hopefully we can keep their starfighters coming after us, particularly since it appears that we're retreating. If their forces are divided, we can beat them in small groups by kiting them...
Cyprien silently cursed. The droid didn't say anything about them having a Kaloth battlecruiser, so apparently that means we've been acting on incomplete intelligence, which means that this entire plan could be ruined. He sighed. And the Fire is hardly the sort of ship to be able to take on a Kaloth. We're evenly matched in terms of firepower, and no-one ever decisively wins fights like that. We're lucky the spoke formation has been able to give our fighters a slight edge in all-round support firepower, that's going to have to change now. He cleared his throat.
"Standby to break the spoke formation," said Cyprien tenatively, "Toklar, plot a course for nav point Beta Eight Niner. All ships will follow us to that point.”
The Mon Calamari nodded his bulbous head, “Yes sir.”
Yalltir acknowledged the order as well and relayed the information to the other ships as well. The spoke of ships broke apart, with the Audacious slowly jetting away forward and directly away from the oncoming Kaloth-class Battlecruiser. The Republic Fire and the Templar both looped around to run parallel to the Audacious' path. Cyprien studied the opposing frigate. It's still rather slow, which is good. Yet those tractor beam projectors on the prongs could prove to be a problem for either the Templar or the Fire, especially fire, since it's so small. He frowned and glanced up at Flight Controller Eris.
“How are our fighters doing?”
Eris hesitated, “They're about equal to the opposing force. The pirates have some X-wings and a few other more advanced craft than we do, but the R-41s' ion cannons are pretty much making up for that advantage. Numerically, we're doing better off, but that's only because our fighters have had capital ship support, but now that's another advantage axed off.”
“Recall all fighters to the protection of our guns,” decided Cyprien, “but only through a specific corridor. Twensies, coordinate with Eris here and fill the other sectors with suppressive fire to cover their withdrawal.”
As those two men got to work, Cyprien flipped his console screen over to sensor readout of the battlefield. We're gaining some distance on the slow Kaloth, and hopefully we can keep their starfighters coming after us, particularly since it appears that we're retreating. If their forces are divided, we can beat them in small groups by kiting them...
KING OF STRONG STYLE
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Re: New Republic: The Enemy of My Enemy
The Captain of the Kaloth-class Cruiser narrowed his eyes. This didn't make sense. They had the advantage when it came to fighters, maybe not in raw firepower, but in numbers, yes. His sensors officer had given him a number of fifty two small sized ships. They didn't necessarily outgun him, but they presented more than one target whereas he was singular object to fire upon. But they felt as though he and his force was superior in either size or strength to their own. What was going on here? Was he being set up? Paranoia for some reason started to creep into his mind. Better to play the card now than to wait.
"Did the transmission get through?" He asked.
"It did, sir."
He leaned back in his chair, trying to figure out what was the Wallace Star Company's game. "Send it again." He said. "Make sure it gets through." He added, trying to bluster through the thoughts that raced through his mind. He wasn't that big of an operation to be a threat to the Razor Renegades. They weren't planning on suckering him in. That was what appeared to be going on. Was he being suckered in? Or was there something that he just honestly didn't know about? "Full speed ahead, target the Corvette. I want it floating in space, filled with vacuum." He said, the conundrum of the phrase lost on him.
And then it happened. The Razor Renegades arrived from a nearby system, at the exact point that he'd given them, less than a klick off the starboard side of his vessel. The Bandit's Blade, along with a Bulk Cruiser, two Hammerhead-class Frigates, and a modified Action VI Freighter. Fighters started to pour out of the Bulk Cruiser. It was easy to tell that the ship had been modified in some way, for an extra fighter squadron came out, totaling four squadrons of Uglies. The Bandit's Blade launched two squadrons of Shielded TIE Interceptors. Six squadrons added to the pirates side of the battle, along with the capital ships.
He waited and then smiled. All weapons from the Razor Renegades opened up, pointed towards the Wallace Star Company.
As they burn, I will rise.
"Did the transmission get through?" He asked.
"It did, sir."
He leaned back in his chair, trying to figure out what was the Wallace Star Company's game. "Send it again." He said. "Make sure it gets through." He added, trying to bluster through the thoughts that raced through his mind. He wasn't that big of an operation to be a threat to the Razor Renegades. They weren't planning on suckering him in. That was what appeared to be going on. Was he being suckered in? Or was there something that he just honestly didn't know about? "Full speed ahead, target the Corvette. I want it floating in space, filled with vacuum." He said, the conundrum of the phrase lost on him.
And then it happened. The Razor Renegades arrived from a nearby system, at the exact point that he'd given them, less than a klick off the starboard side of his vessel. The Bandit's Blade, along with a Bulk Cruiser, two Hammerhead-class Frigates, and a modified Action VI Freighter. Fighters started to pour out of the Bulk Cruiser. It was easy to tell that the ship had been modified in some way, for an extra fighter squadron came out, totaling four squadrons of Uglies. The Bandit's Blade launched two squadrons of Shielded TIE Interceptors. Six squadrons added to the pirates side of the battle, along with the capital ships.
He waited and then smiled. All weapons from the Razor Renegades opened up, pointed towards the Wallace Star Company.
As they burn, I will rise.
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