Open to 1 High ground what high ground? Freighter Ambush

[Sskyr Uros]

Ruusan
Barraka Canyon | Barraka Mines
Abandoned Artefact Digsite, Now Illegal Spice Storage.
Dawn | Overcast
OOC Thread | Muse Music​

Gentle rays of dawn pulled back darkness to wake the world, washing any trace of sleep from his green eyes. Fixed in one position on a ridge for three hours, his muscles were stiff. An imprint of dusty earth he was resting on outlined the shape of his body and the barrel of his gun. Opposite him others had set up, to catch the crew in a crossfire as soon as they woke up, six on one side of the ridge, and six on the other.

Ruusan was rumored to have a lot of relics, and so a lot of loot for the taking. The Gathering novices had come here expecting to find some diggers at this site, tipped to find maybe a smuggler or two. They’d stumbled across a crate of Sansanna spice hoarded in an old mining site, not ‘kessel pure’ but worth it all the same. The small freighter landed nearby was worth more than that, greed had gripped the group and there had been disagreement about how to proceed.

The Twelve young hunters were restless, a few were salivating for the kill, but more for getting their hands on any spice hopefully inside its cargo hold. A mix of mostly Trandoshans, with a few Rodians, and Gamorreans waited, silencing conversation was not a problem, with just a few barely intelligible grunts or growls to hush.

An enveloping blue flash struck out, blinding against the still dawning landscape, then another. Two ion blasts straight into the freighter's engine port complicated the plan, causing some tense disagreement from the opposite ridge. Pirates never could decide on how to best pick the carcass, and these pirates were working together in greater numbers for the first time.

The fizzling of electronics and systems aboard the freighter also woke up those inside, and three crew stumbled out prematurely to see what the hell was going on. The inexperience in the Gathering Hunters was plain, they’d waited three hours to ambush the small freighter crew and now that ambush was all but wasted.

Boiling anger gripped Sskyr. He held his position, even as the two fools that broke the trap early ran down the ridge opposite him, heading straight into blaster fire. A few of the freighter’s crew were exposed, could they keep the landing ramp down? Was this even a spice runner's ship?

”Ssss’silence their guns,” his harsh reptilian voice chided, barely contained rage surfacing. “Keep that ramp down’sss.” Ducking a shot, Sskyr aimed his carbine and let loose around the ramp, but at this range, he'd probably have to get closer to hit any controls unless they got lucky.

While their two trigger-happy associates were slowly used up as target practice. Above them, the two ridges erupted in searing bolts of death, blaster fire, smoke, and chaos. Dusty debris were thrown up as shots went back and forth. It didn’t matter how green they were, or how old their guns were, when they were firing down from above they had the advantage, if they could hit anything.

OOC Forces

Spoiler

Friendly NPCs: 11/12 Gathering Hunters. Trandoshan, Rodian, and Gamorrean Rookie Lackeys.
Enemy NPCs: 7 Sleepy crewmembers and a prone freighter

 

[Tannon Dellian]

The Cantonica Concordat, if it was even prudent to call it as such, barely stood. There was no 'mutual interest' to be seen in the treaty. The Empire licked its wounds, humiliated, plotting in the shadows. Meanwhile, the Hutts and the Syndicates moved to exploit their boon.

Tannon spat on the idea of him being here— on Ruusan posing as a glorified bodyguard for some Imperial archaeologists. All while his home was beset with rampant crime and unrest following the treaty. Surely his talents as a Knight were better suited elsewhere? Hitting the Hutts where it hurt real bad. Alas, it was not to be. Maybe the ISB knew better, sending him here. Well, of course they would. A thought that helped him cope better, if nothing else.

Unlike the crew, Tannon stayed vigilant. Ruusan was far too close to Hutt space to be taking any chances.

A good thing too as the ship jolted, rattling everyone onboard awake. Why the captain and the rest of the crew opted to have a snooze as they arrived and not in hyperspace was beyond him. But he was outranked, and Knights who talked back were... reprimanded for their disobedience, to say the least.

"Status report!" The captain demanded as his eyes begrudgingly crawled open.

"Engines down sir. Possible Ion attack." An Ensign tapped away at the console. "Attack? Out here?" The captain refuted in disbelief.

Blaster fire rained down from ridges above. Some of the crew took the initiative and returned fire, though to little effect. "Captain, we have hostiles incoming!" The Ensign warned with a hint of fear in his voice.

"Order our men to stop firing." the Knight suggested to the Captain. "Protect whatever cargo we have, I'll deal with the enemy." All this could've been avoided. Yet, here they were. Sporting the Knights' armour, he put his helmet on and approached the ramp, staying out of sight.

The downed ramp might just prove as the ideal bait for whoever attacked them. After all, who could resist charging head first toward a helpless, yet potentially priceless freighter? He was about to find out, unclipping his crossguard saber from his belt and readying his blaster in ambush behind the entryway.

The first few of the attackers who charged the craft would find the little resistance they've encountered thus far ceased as they rushed down the slope. Though that would not be the case if they attempted to board the freighter...

@Blue Oakwood

 

[Sskyr Uros]

Growls, snorts, and high-pitched Rodian banter followed. Some were cheering, but Sskyr and those with more than one brain cell were not happy. Retreating inside the freighter meant cunning prey, funneling them into a choke point. Giving chase was also honey to a hunter. Mixed emotions. The hunt and scent of burning blaster fire on the air, overrode his sense of restraint to further damage their engines and starve or burn them out, something a more experienced hunter might have done. Instead eager shooters began making their way down lower, keeping their weapons trained, while a few remained high above. This might look like tactics and cover, but right now it was just disorganization.

The remaining fat Gamorrean who’d survived the charge and reached the ramp sniffed a bit, he tilted his head, turned around, and shrugged. His kind were not the brightest beings in the galaxy. Snarling, Sskyr started his way down calling the others to, “Approach clos’sss’er.” Aside from Sskyr’s rusty red plastoid armor, the equipment the group had was patchy armor, old stolen blasters, aging blades, and maybe if they were lucky some homemade grenades, not exactly top-of-the-line pirates. Halfway to the ramp, Sskyr looked at the body of the single dead reckless Trandoshan, reminding himself of why this plan had failed. “Wait,” a toothy grin formed, then he growled at the Gamorrean “You firs’sss’t.” The green pig-faced pirate didn’t like that idea, but Sskyr shot below his feet to motivate him. Carrying a rusty old two-handed axe, nothing special just a hunk of sharp heavy metal, the stocky green alien waddled forward very slowly up the ramp, sniffing for signs of life.

Bait.

Meanwhile, behind the Green Bait, Sskyr waved two shooters to take up positions pointing directly up the ramp. “Kill anything moving.” Was the easy command, that bait had cost him an easy ambush, he might as well make another ambush out of it. The two rookiee Trandoshan pirates crept closer, trying to get a better angle to shoot upward, remaining a distance behind their walking green possum. Grabbing a comms device off the nearest Trandoshan, *kkkcrck* "Sss’Surender your Cargo.” Sskyr broadcasted on all local frequencies, the crackling comms device betraying its age, *kkkckck* "you will live.” Will live as slaves, that part was unspoken. In the thrill of the hunt, it was hard to ignore the prize of the kill, only the possibility of credits for slaves made that likely. Most spice runners were not going to give their life for their cargo, little did he know these were not smugglers.

Miners, maybe the old mine had more powerful explosives? He grabbed the nearest Rodian by the collar, “S’sssearch the mine, bring me explosives.” If this breach failed, he might make another entry on the other side.

@Wills

 

[Tannon Dellian]

Patience was not one of Tannon's virtues. But as fate would have it, it was neither his enemies'. The Knight listened to the approaching clanging of footsteps across the ramp. Something big. Likely an alien. He thought, taking a step back into the shadows, readying the Force for his ambush.

As the Gamorrean entered, all he'd see is a figure in the dark. Before Tannon lifted him off the floor with a Force Choke.

The Raxian cocked his head to the side. A Gamorrean. Intriguing. So, this little ambush was the Cartel's doing. Whether that was true or not didn't bother him one bit. He had seen enough— waited long enough to have his personal vengeance.

The pig squealed in whatever freak of a language it 'spoke', begging for mercy. None would be granted. Tannon kept the chokehold in place and unloaded five blaster bolts into the Gamorrean. Letting its hulking dead carcass roll all the way back down the ramp.

It served as a momentary warning to anyone observing. Then, a mechanical voice crackled through the Trandoshan's comms; "You surrender." Tannon responded on the same frequencies as he stepped into the entryway. Red duraplast armour shining in the morning light.

He ignited his crossguard saber with a deep hum, deflecting a blaster bolt fired by one of the two trigger-happy goons. Kicking up dirt as it landed in front of the tall Trandoshan. Tannon anchored his gaze on the lizard. Looking for any signs that may betray his intents. "You have one chance to make the right decision." He stated. Ready to make his next move in response.

@Blue Oakwood

 

[Sskyr Uros]

When the squealing, now dead Gamorrean rolled down the ramp, surprisingly there was a mix of laughter from most, and some anger from the remaining Gamorrean. A lot of those present really enjoyed violence and respected a show of power. The reflected shot landing at the tall Trandoshan’s feet made his green eyes narrow, and he walked past where it had landed to display a territorial instinct. From a distance, red armor faced red armor, one was clean and uniformed, the other a rusty mess. As dawn spilled more light on the scene, the symbols on Tannon’s shoulders, or at least the armor design was unmistakable, quelling his rage Sskyr pointed his weapon up.

Imperials ”Hasssshtakar” Which by the frustrated tone was an expletive comment on his luck. Sskyr and these goons were just prospects in the Cartel, hoping to get rich off an easy score and hunt for a kill, or a slave or two. They didn’t know the politics, but all the Cartel knew about the truce, to break it for small fish like him was death.

“Bucket heads taking Ryll?” Another voice said, displaying the level of thought process going on. One of the Trandoshans was mocking the knight about taking spice, and needed to be checked. Sskyr walked to his left, and didn’t so much punch as hammer the young hunter across the head, sending him sideways.

”Lower weapon’sss.” He turned to the others to make sure they all understood, not having the full authority he might have one day, but they all knew the score here and slowly lowered their guns. ”Your sss’spice?” Unsure that imperials smuggled spice, but he wasn’t going to judge. The one positive was no imperial had died. A hunt with no-kill curdled his blood, but it might salvage this situation without him dead in an alley on Nal Hutta.

A shrewd plan formed in his mind, was this their spice? “Mine’sss full of it.” A crate or two anyway. If this wasn’t their spice, maybe there was still a possibility of a payday when its owners arrived. If it was their spice, he could strike a deal to sell it. Could he turn a mistake to his advantage? Sskyr was watching to see if the Imperial tried to hide something or make a move, his weapon was pointed up in the air, but the instinct for violence was never far from a Trandoshan mind.

The Rodian who went to get the explosives had not returned…

@Wills

 

[Tannon Dellian]

Tannon pulled a smirk behind his helmet as the big boss Trandoshan whipped another into line. In response, he turned his saber off, keeping it on hand just in case. "Wise choice." As much as he would've loved to, he was not going to be the one to break the truce. At least, not here and not now. Besides, it seemed like the cartel's thugs weren't all mindless lackeys. Or at least, one of them wasn't. Judging by the absent-minded looks the others glared at the Knight with... Absolutely no thoughts behind those eyes. But, Sskyr? He had some sense.

The Imperial Knight's anger slowly quenched as he spared the dead Gamorrean a 'sorrowful' glance. "Sorry about your friend. He was a real charmer. Lovely squeals." Of course, he wasn't truly sorry. The pig had it coming trying to board the ship. But it didn't seem like the others cared much for it their fallen brethren. And Tannon sure as hell wasn't above rubbing it in for the remaining Gamorrean.

The mention of spice piqued his interest. It all started to make sense now. What else could it have been about? Of course some band of ragtag pirates wouldn't attack a lone archaeological expedition Definitely not one just arriving on the planet. Fancy digging equipment and the like was all they could've expected to find aboard. Not really the kind of 'cargo' a bunch of pirates would yearn for.

For a moment, Tannon eyed the Trandoshan with suspicion. Then, he made a leisurely descent down the ramp, holstering his blaster pistol in the process. There was no reason they couldn't 'negotiate' in a slightly more civilised manner. "What's the spice to you?" He contended boldly. Curious of where this interaction could lead them to.

Frankly, the Imperial freighter was going nowhere anytime soon with those damages. Perhaps even requiring spare parts from a nearby settlement. Where Imperial credits were unlikely to cut it. And so, he saw an opportunity. But first, he'd let the Trandoshan establish his position. As a gesture of goodwill.

@Blue Oakwood

 

[Sskyr Uros]

When the Knight talked about the dead, “Death of the weak and the foolis’sss’h.” Sskyr stated it as if it was normal, even while the Gamorrean present continued to glare at the Knight. Already Trandoshans had decided to start looting the reckless dead pair, dragging their weapons and bodies clear from the ramp. The two dead were the most trigger-happy. In time only the better fighters would remain within the hunting group, natural selection at work.

Not sure whether this was the Imperial’s spice or not. The Imperial's bravery and direct approach were respected. He hissed contemplatively and judged how to answer what was the spice to him. ”Profit. In’ffff’luence. Death of competitors’sss.” He rested the carbine behind his neck, “If your crew has’sss more, we can deal. If not, do you want to find out why there is’sss spice at your digsite?” To Sskyr, that was one of three possibilities for what they’d found in the mine, someone on this Imperial’s crew was responsible behind the other’s backs, some other ship was responsible, or the Knight here was the smuggler.

Time to ask the obvious to rule out one of those possibilities. ”What is spice to you?”

Sskyr was holding back who had tipped him off about the location, because right now that nugget of information, could be the key to the mystery. Something more sinister crossed his mind. Had it been a setup, a test for this band of rookie Hutt prospects, or a way to get Imperials and Hutts shooting at each other? Break the truce, then sit back and watch what happened.

The Trandoshan could have offered to help with repairs or pay for the cost of the damage to the engine ports, but he wasn't going to offer up something for free. Payment first. *Click* *Click* *Scrape* He clicked his claws together, adrenaline starting to lower in the young hunter.

@Wills