Head in the Clouds

[Devrim Wolfe]

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Having been recruited for Operation: Stardust along with Toland, Devrim and his companion found themselves in the far reaches of the Outer Rim near Bespin. Independently owned and far from the reaches of the Empire, the gas planet specialized in the production of Tibanna gasses vital for the creation of blaster power packs. Czerka Corporation wants this production in their pocket for their own nefarious purposes, and therefore they've sent an executive to meed with company representatives on Bespin. Devrim and Toland have been assigned to stop this meeting from taking place — but they have to be careful in their approach.

Boarded in an RX-4 Starfighter, Devrim's ship was loaded with local pirate insignias, and he himself was wearing a set of disguised armour to boot. Pressing a few buttons on his naviscreen, the display read that he and Toland were closing in quickly on the courier lightly defended by two escort fighters. "You all ready to roll there, Toland?" Devrim relayed to his companion, double checking the weapon systems and rolling his shoulders in preparation. "Those fighters look like they're mostly for show — Czerka clearly doesn't expect anyone to prevent their business deal." Switching his targeting systems over to attack mode, he pushed his throttle wide open. "Nobody else in sight — full speed ahead."

@Shalken
OOC: After receiving no opposition within 72 hours, this Open PvP thread is now Ask.​

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[Toland Vult]

Despite the Galactic Alliance's vastly smaller size than the bloated Empire, their resourcefulness never ceased to surprise Toland. Today, he and Devrim were dispatched to stop a Czerka official from meeting a delegation on Bespin — even using lethal force, if necessary. In order to cover their tracks, they were provided with a RX-4 starfighter each and an outfit to match. "As ready as I'll ever be," Toland replied, flicking switches to prepare for the engagement ahead. Though it was possible they could get away without violence, no Czerka executive got anywhere by bowing down to everyone else's demands.

Keeping tight formation with Devrim, Toland locked on to the three ships ahead. Having just exited hyperspace, it would take a while before they were able to jump again. The two Rebels had caught them completely unaware. Opening a broadcast channel to the Czerka shuttle, Toland enabled a vocoder in his borrowed suit of armour to mask his real voice. "Alright you money-lubbers, listen up: Bespin's our territory, and you're toeing the line. Turn your expensive asses around and don't come back, or we'll cut your life expectancy real short." It was a start, anyway. Faked impressions were hardly Vult's strong suit, but at least pirates weren't very imaginative in the first place.

The Czerka responded with the expected incredulity and condescension. "You'll what now? I don't have time for this nonsense." Right on queue, the two escort fighters spun around, flying straight for the two disguised Rebels. Luckily, Toland had locked on beforehand, and had the drop on the two Czerka fighters. Pulling a side trigger, he unleashed a single concussion rocket at the starfighter on the right. Completely unprepared for the attack, the missile struck home, completely knocking out the controls of its target while disorienting the other as well.♦ "All yours, Devrim." Toland wasn't sure whether he would like dogfighting at first, but so far this was going splendidly.

@Vosrik​

 

[Uhtred Wardruna]

Hyperspace was many things. To some, it was a spectacle, a flashy display of a mysterious, yet familiar-to-sight dimension. To others, it was a marvel of the universe, and a scientist's source of fascination. Then to some, it was just... silence. Of course, space was always in perfect silence, but hyperspace was special. Even when traversing in groups, it was as if you were always alone. Isolated. The only sights were the constant ripples of light. The only noises was your own breathing in the cockpit. And for the mind, it was a perfect place to wander or to focus, whatever one had desired.

The silence broke as an indicator in Uhtred's Rýtingur-class Starfighter alerted him to his relative proximity. He was coming up on the navicomputer's charted destination. Dropping out of hyperspace was the most surreal part of the entire experience. To enter hyperspace seeing one sky of stars, then in mere moments, being catapulted into an entirely different part of the galaxy? That was a marvel by itself. But now, Uhtred was far from alone. Word had reached the Deucalians of the presence of a Czerka executive. Lightly protected, boldly parading through the Anoat Sector of the Greater Javin region, it was far too lucrative of a target to simply ignore. And now, rumor turned to truth as a wicked grin tore its way onto Uhtred's face.

Þar er það... rétt þar sem þeir sögðu að það væri, the Deucalian raider mused to himself, arming his weapon systems.

"Markmið staðfest. Allir starfendur, halda áfram með árásarleyfi", Uhtred said, rerouting power from his interceptor's engines to the laser cannons.

It was at this point that Uhtred noticed another pair of pirate fighters. By all accounts, it looked like Czerka and the pirate fighters were about to engage. It was only a shame that Uhtred would never be able to see the look on those Czerka mercenaries' faces when it would be clear to them where this was all headed. He had no idea who the pirates were or who they were aligned to, but those were details to hammer out later.

Accelerating his interceptor to full throttle, Uhtred unleashed a barrage of laser fire on the second Czerka escort fighter. Between his sudden appearance and the apparent disorientation caused by the first fighter's encounter with a concussive missile, Uhtred's attack struck true as the laser fire crashed down on the Czerka fighter, detonating it.

The other Deucalian fighters would have been headed toward the Czerka executive's yacht, but Uhtred opened a line to the nearby pirate fighters. He was familiar enough with most pirates in the Anoat sector, but seldom had the opportunity to address any specifically. After all, pirates tended to be a less-than-chatty lot.

"I see we were not the only ones to receive word of this meeting. If you two are also after the head of this calyarnr, then you are no enemy of ours, nor are we to you. If it seems well enough," Uhtred said, turning his eyes to the yacht, "Perhaps there may be something to gain in working together."

@Vosrik @Shalken @Iridescence

 

[Devrim Wolfe]

No matter how well-funded Czerka executives were, Devrim knew they wouldn't put a cutting-edge hyperdrive onto a carrier that wasn't supposed to have any opposition getting to its destination. Hell, if that wasn't clear enough, the two ships that were poor excuses for escorts were proof of that fact. This executive was unequivocally and undeniably unprepared to be assaulted head-on by what appeared to be two small pirate strike ships. However, clearly the Czerka executive was either overconfident in his own escort fighters or underestimated the hitting power of the "pirates" — a single concussion missile from Toland's RX-4 obliterated a starship without even receiving returning fire. Devrim broke out into a wide smile upon witnessing the burst of red and yellow from the ensuing explosion. "Haha! Good shot, Toland," he complimented, unleashing a volley of firepower that obliterated the fighter. ♦ Looking at his screen as a warning beep illuminated his cockpit, he realized another fighter had exited from hyperspace.

The smile faded from Devrim's face as he watched a completely unknown ship to him approached the battle at attack velocity. "Look out, we have incoming, possible reinforcements," the ersatz pirate communicated to his wingman. The speed at which the fighter approached convinced Devrim that it was an interceptor — normal starfighters certainly weren't that fast. Before even having the chance to reposition from his attack run, the newcomer opened fire and blasted the second Czerka escort to oblivion. The dark-haired pilot was nothing short of stunned. Who was this guy, and why was he helping pirates take down a Czerka executive on the front doorstep of Bespin?

His myriad of questions were soon answered as the stranger opened a channel to both the rebels in disguise. This guy sounds like...a Deucalian, by the way he talks, Devrim mused, especially upon hearing the strange language Uhtred used to describe the executive. "Perhaps indeed," he replied, returning his attention to the Czerka courier up ahead. "It seems our interests align. Czerka is rich enough, don't you think? They could do with one less trade contract." Opening his throttle to catch up to the courier, it was not long before the trio had the ship surrounded.

"What do you want!?" The executive hailed the ships threatening his own. "I have the backing of the Company — I, I can offer you as much as you want!" The panic in his voice was clearly audible. But neither Devrim nor Toland were here to specifically end the man's life, just prevent him from attending the meeting.

"Turn your ship around and leave," the faux pirate stated firmly. "We already told ya once — Bespin's our territory. Leave the system now, or you'll end up like your hired escorts." There was a long pause at the other end of the line. The Czerka executive knew that if he, as a representative of the Company, were to no-show on this meeting, then the Bespin Court would never agree to make trade agreements with Czerka ever again. Not only that, but the executive's personal life in his company would be over — he was guaranteed to be fired upon his return. They awaited his response, fingers on their triggers.

@Iridescence @Shalken @Korvo​

 

[Lysandra Soleil]

Lysandra Soleil was hellaciously late. Not only was this one of the first times piloting a starfighter, this was her first time piloting a starfighter by herself. When she first stepped in, her heart was in her throat. All she knew Uhtred knew where they could attain some...things. He was sometimes hard to understand.

Lysandra was a diplomat, not even close to a true Deucalian fighter, especially not a pilot. She grunted as she fiddled with buttons,strapped herself in, and took off into space. She could do this. It was just like a speeder. Except the hyperspace part.

Snow, not actually snow, was flying past her. Her breathing shallowed and a glowy sweat was on her brow. A steady beeping let the Deucalian Plyndrer know she was close to the location after she exited hyperspace. “Holy shit.” She mumbled as she felt jerked up. An adrenaline rush.

“Uhtred. I’m here.” To Lysandra’s surprise, she saw two others. “Who are our friends, Uhtred?” Lysandra thought her voice sounded shaky, and she tried to clear her throat. She saw the Czerka, and her lip curled in disgust. She felt very out of place.

Then, the fighting began. “Oh, kriff. What did I get myself into?” She steered to the right, her fingers dancing along the triggers just in case, watching her surroundings through the monitors as well.

@Shalken @Korvo @Vosrik

 

[Toland Vult]

Barely skipping a beat, Devrim capitalized on Toland's direct hit with a salvo of his own completely destroying the immobilized fighter. Before he could strike down the second escort, though, bolts streaked from a vector he did not expect, preemptively eliminating his target. "What was that?" Toland asked, baffled. Nobody else but us and the top brass know about this operation, he thought concernedly as the two other ships came into view. After getting a closer look at them, however, Toland recognized the fighters' design from his preliminary pilot training in the Imperial military: these were Deucalian ships.

Shortly afterward the leader opened communications with them, appearing friendly to their cause and uninterested in their true identity. This could prove quite advantageous to the two disguised Rebels. Allowing Devrim to reply, the fighters quickly surrounded the Czerka shuttle before it could escape. Devrim had already granted the ultimatum, and all they had to do was wait for the executive's response. As a precaution, Toland scanned the shuttle's comms to make sure they did not attempt to establish contact with authorities. After a minute of silent deliberation, they finally received a response.♦ "O-okay, listen...I'll head outta here, j-just don't shoot! Let me live!" So it was settled, then. The meeting would never take place. No communications had been sent, and now all they needed to do was ensure the Czerka diplomat actually followed through.

While they could just simply let him return home, Toland had an idea. He hailed the two Deucalian fighters on a private channel. "Hey, you two...we don't need this guy anymore; he's all yours. Just don't kill him — he's probably worth a lot more alive than dead, anyway." If the space raiders caught on and agreed, that would both give the Deucalians a large sum of free credits in ransom money as well as relieve the two fake pirates the ordeal of having to clean up. It was a perfect win-win.

@Korvo @Iridescence @Vosrik​

 

[Uhtred Wardruna]

Although separated by helmets, iron frames and the void of space, anyone with a comlink and Uhtred's com-frequency could have 'heard'_the smile etched deep onto his face.

"Now that .is what I like to hear!", Uhtred remarked into his comlink system, releasing a boisterous guffaw. Partnership was always a beautiful thing, after all. And plunder? That_was what made it all worthwhile, in the end.

Soon after the brief exchange, Uhtred's com lit up again, with it this time being Lysandra contacting him. Czerka was expected. Unidentified company was not. It was only sensible that their presence would make those relying on a plan nervous, or even anxious, to an extent. 'Friends', Lysandra called them.

'Friends', indeed

"It's as you said. Only friends", Uhtred replied, glibly. He frankly didn't know who they were, but he also acknowledged that it really didn't matter, either. They were here, gunning at the same enemy, and they called truce. That_was what mattered now. "As my father would say, 'simple men, trying to make their way in the universe'."

In a way, the Czerka executive's meek surrender was something of a disappointment. But still, he couldn't complain with the results; this was exactly what he wanted. What occurred next actually was more of a surprise to Uhtred than anything else; before he could begin to negotiate with the other two unidentified pirates for the plunder, they seemingly abdicated any claim and were simply satisfied with the cessation of Czerka's intrusion.

The territorial sort then, are they?, he could only muse, inwardly. Perhaps if he felt the need, he'd consider the oddity of the situation, but he wasn't going to let such an opportunity pass him by.

"Well then, as you wish", Uhtred said, bringing his ship around and over the yacht, docking atop of it as he began unstrapping himself from his starfighter's harness. "Oh, and I wouldn't worry about this one, here. The wealthy and the comfortable and those with plenty? They are always_worth more alive."

At least for now...

Opening his cockpit, Uhtred allowed himself exposure to the void. His armor was modified with a vac-suit and life support box, and it took him little time to reach the airlock of the Czerka ship. With his axe in hand and powered up and his Læsatein on his back, Uhtred struck the console at the ship's exterior. It was a gamble, to be sure, but hot-wiring was tedious and annoying. And this time, at least, the gamble paid off. As the circuits shorted, the airlock opened, and Uhtred entered the pressurizing chamber. He wasn't positive Lysandra would even want to follow him in here, but the way was open to her, if she wished.

As Uhtred passed through the pressurized chamber and into the interior of the yacht, the first thing he noticed was how clean it was. Sleek, as if it were all sterilized. As he came to a wall panel, accessing the ship's base information, he was surprised to find that besides the Czerka executive himself, there were only four other crew-members. Even for a minimum crew, that had to be pushing it.

As Uhtred reached the bridge, an eyebrow rose as not one, but two corpses were on the ground. Uhtred was positive the yacht hadn't sustained any damage, so it couldn't have been the result of a power surge from overloaded circuits or systems. All the same, Uhtred mounted his axe and pulled his Læsatein, firing a blaster bolt in the head of the first body, just to be sure. Then the second.

"What the hell are you doing?!", yelled the Czerka executive, bravely standing behind the two still-living crewmembers on the bridge.

But Uhtred said nothing. He had no incentive to. Instead, he simply raised his lockbow and fired again, shooting the first of the living crewmembers. As the second took off fleeing, Uhtred reached to his side and pulled his axe, powering it up and hurling it into the head of the second formerly-living crewmember. Calmly, Uhtred mounted his lockbow to his back, walked over to the corpse that bore his axe, and retrieved it. Leaving it active, reddish mist fumed from the weapon as the blood quickly began evaporating. The Czerka executive was on the floor with his back against the wall, shivering in place. No more words, no protests. Just pure terror. Uhtred stood over him for a few moments, simply looking down at him, before slowly squatting before him.

"You have a fine ship, you know. But... I think you and I have much to discuss", he said rather kindly to the man, tilting his head slightly as he brought the edge of his blue-hot axe near to the Czerka man's face, practically tanning his skin by the closeness of the heated blade. "Don't we?"

//END THREAD
(Presumably)

@Vosrik @Shalken @Iridescence​

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