Raiders of The Lost Ark

[Hol Horse]

What a B-E-A-utiful Day​

There they all were then. The vagabonds, the outcasts, the galactic garbage, they were quite the merry band.

Mercenary work was never something that Athir had ever thought himself doing 5 years ago, yet times were tough, and it was becoming increasingly important for a smuggler like him to learn to make some nice profits when he was inbetween jobs. Besides, this job was just one overhyped theft right? They just had to go to a secret planet hidden in the Unknown regions, raid the republican enclave tucked away and supposedly forgotten, and then just capture their secret project, research included, and flee back to the Outer Rim Warlords who had hired them all. It was easy, right? There were plenty of thugs and mercenaries, soldiers of fortune, who had been hired and were now sitting by themselves polishing their weapons for what was surely going to be a very long day. Still, the pay was good. If it wasn't the red skinned zabrak wouldn't be here.

He had come across this job by chance. After he had severed his ties to the Hutts following the Nar Shaddah incident, he had set about starting over with a new crime syndicate or patron who had the money to hire someone of his particular skillset. He was a veteran by now after all, five years of experience running away from people, a professional coward at his core. Still, this professional coward had managed to stay alive while so many other smugglers had died in the crackdown on free trading following the fall of the republic by the Empire and the Mandos. With the Hutts, the Empire, and the jetpack-enthusiasts breathing down his neck, Athir had been jumping from system to system looking for work without commiting to any of the numerous factions filling up this tumbled galaxy of his. It was only when being invited by the Pyke Syndicate to prove his mettle by helping in their joint-operation with... whoever the hell it was that was funding all this- that Athir had come to accept this little test run of sorts.

Traveling through the Unknown Regions was tricky buisness, you could never tell where it was you were going unless you had already been there before. It was pretty easy to spot the problem with naviating it. Still, the voice that crackled over the PA system into the large and empty cargo hold where the small army of mercenaries and vagabonds were preparing, Athir felt that getting lost in these wilds were the least of his concerns, "Alright ladies, get ready to make some money. We reach Kalvar in thirty minutes" the captain of the outfitted-freighter said over the intercom. The burly and varied figures in the cargo bay grumbled amongst themselves before continuing to prepare for the siege they were about to go through with. Athir himself had prepared already to keep his mind busy, but now that they had come so close to their landing, he couldn't help but wonder...

How much of a share could he get out of all of this if he was the only one who made it back alive?



OOC: This is open to anyone who's interested in having some good old fashioned shoot-em-up adventure RP. This thread is death-disable in case anyone might be wondering, but one can still expect plenty of over-the-top moments for sure.

 

[Soup]

Xel was absolutely out of his mind. He had thrown himself into a mercenary mission to get some extra Credits, but he hadn't a clue why he thought a mission like this would work for him. Dying was a bad thing to do, and he was likely to do just that.

Honestly, he was part of an organization that probably wouldn't approve of this sort of thing, but there he was. After all, the Kjlljk Protectorate had no jurisdiction in the system in which they were performing this task. Though Xel lacked experience in covert missions, he did have ten years of overall experience under his belt to back him up. Not to mention a good FRAB blaster rifle and a BP01 blaster pistol in his arsenal. In fact that was all he had in his arsenal.

Xel was leaning against a wall of the cargo bay, his FRAB slung across his back, and his BP01 in his cargo pant pocket. He heard the announcement of their proximity to their destination and sighed. This would certainly be dangerous.

Xel was dressed in his usual turtle neck, long sleeved, black shirt and black cargo pants. Had was examining his BP01 for most of the flight, but now looked up to see his buddies. His eyes moved all along the cargo bay until he spotted a familiar face. A certain Zabarak who he hadn't seen in a while. Xel made his way over to Athir and waved casually. He hoped the Athir would recognize him. Someone he knew wouldn't hurt to have around.

 

[Nor'baal]

Deep Cover, well, that is what the special service types called it. Dressed in some off looking mercenary armour, I asked myself again exactly why I was here. The Inquisition was demanding work, and many of us gave our all, dignity and much more, in its service. I wore a facemask, as many in the mercenary profession did, so as not to arouse suspicious, a simple Czerka Issue Assault rifle, and a pistol at my side.



Instead of my lightsaber, which I hoped I would have no cause to miss, a large knife was across my back, a vibroblade, more like a machete than an actual sword. My plan was a simple one, and thanks to the support of members of my team off world, I was confident that it could be advanced by this deception. We had reason to believe these mercenaries would be targeting a Republic enclave, and my task was simply to get to correct location, and allow the Imperial Legion to do the rest.



My cover name, Dran Mardel, was the one others in the ship new me by, and I remained silent as we came closer to our landing zone.





OOC - Well, this seems like fun! Dropping in Sith my under-cover Sith Inquisitor :) I reserve the right to make half arses Indiana Jones quips throughout.

 

[Hol Horse]

"Yeah man, like, she was totally into me dude. I'm teling you bro, that Twi'lek was hella into me"
"Nah Bro, she was staring at you because your fly was down Bro"
"Bro, come on Bro"
"Don't Bro me, Bro, Bro"
"Bro"
"Broseph"
"Brohammed"
"Brolimanjaro"

Athir stared up at the ceiling as the pilots continued to speak, forgetting to turn off the PA system that was being transmitted throughout the entire ship. Most of the mercenaries tried their best to just ignore the crazed ramblings of the Brosephs and instead prepare for the commando landing that they were going to have to execute with accurate percision or be shot into makeshift flesh-flavored swiss cheese. They had no idea what kind of firepower they were going up against here. This Republican enclave had been hidden during the dark ages after the fall of the Republic, it had been tucked away in the Unknown Regions so that no Sith could ever find it supposedly. Still, its location had now been revealed, the single bastion was soon about to fall to the barbarians and their pet dogs. The red skinned zabrak grumbled to himself as chants of "BroBroBro" continued reverberating throughout the cargo bay where they were all loitering around like ner'do'els.

As the zabrak looked around, a figure waving his direction caught his eye. Glancing back a second time, Athir squinted as he saw a human wave casually at him. Was he waving to someone else? There was nothing worse, save death, than waving back to someone only to realize they had been ooking to someone behind you the entire time, making you look like a complete tool. Athir still could recognize something vaguely familiar about the human he was now looking at. Had he met him before? The smuggler ran through a mental catalogue of people he had met over his travels during the previous five years, yet none of them were currently ringing a bell in relation to the stranger now approaching him. Still, there was something generally familiar. God, it was on the tip of his tongue, it was... uhhh.

Boom, Xel. Yeah, he still had it. The Spice hadn't eaten up his brain quite yet at least. Athir walked over to the fellow smuggler, "Of all the thugs in this cargo bay, you weren't one I was expecting to see" he started with a small smile on his face, "How you doing then? Has five years treated you well?" the smuggler asked. He didn't know all that much about the other man, during their last encounter he hadn't asked him that much save the basic questions. Still, it was a bit of a funny sort of thing that the two would meet again in such an unlikely place as this. Athir was glad to know someone, even if it was just so he could use their dead body as a meat shield later if they were killed by a sniper. Friendship had its perks.

---

"Sir, a ship is approaching the planet, they appear to know our location"

"So, zey 'ave come at last. Zer is no hiding outselvzes anymore" Chief Scientist Heinreich said as he closed his eyes in contemplation. Project A.R.K had been coming along smoothly in their past five years of secret research. After the Republic had fallen, he and his elite private army, the Brothers of the Fallen, had secluded themselves in this remote rock int he far throngs of the Unknown Regions, conducting their research in secrecy, waiting for the day to return and reclaim their Republic from the evil imperialist scum. Heinreich frowned to himself as he thought of what to do next, they were here for A.R.K, he just knew it. He could not let them have it, if these intruders stole his research, all would be lost.

"Vell Vell Vell, Vwe must give our guestz a properly warm velcome. I'll leave you to it, commander Gustavus"

Zey v'would make zi's scum pay​

 

[Soup]

Xel watched as the Zabrak ran through his memory. He thought it wouldn't be too hard to remember someone who Athir had talked to during the complete destruction of a crappy cantina. But of course, five years was a while ago. When Athir finally got the name, Xel nodded and stopped about a meter away from Athir. He shrugged and tapped his guantlets made of scrap metal. "Treated me like it didn't remember I was there. However I did get these little things for some extra protection. Only made of some scrap metal though, it won't do much. How's it been for you then? Any new toys?"

Xel set his hand on his waist as he examined Athir, checking for any changes that had happened in the past five years. Xel wanted to believe he could fully trust Athir to cover him during the mission, but he wasn't too sure. After all, they had only met during one rotation.

 

[Nor'baal]

OOC - I think my 7-day delay on posting may just have become a new personal best.

If one more person says Bro, I'll frakking scream. cursed the man known as 'Dran Mardel' inwardly, nursing his R-8R Rifle a little closer to his chest. A suit of MCV lay over his chest, an armor weave body glove beneath it offering ample protection, given the circumstances. A Sunspear Pistol rested on his hip holster, and as Dran rose from his seat he noticed he was probably the least armed and armored person here. Self-consciously he straightened his Bantha Hide Jacket, trying to look his best.

As far as he was aware, or at least as far as his retinal display was showing, they where nearly there, and he voiced as much "ETA: 2 Mins guys, let's load up." he stated, checking the ammunition on his rifle, and tapping the hilt of the vibroknife, whilst double checking his cluster of three thermal detonators. Let us hope we pull through this one he thought to himself as he looked out to side window and down to their rapidly approaching LZ.

 

[Hol Horse]

Athir watched as the human stepped back from him a tad, grabbing some of his new toys that he had brought for this assignment of theirs. Extra protection was always good, especially on little expeditions like this where none of them had any idea what the heck they were doing. When the question was turned back on Athir though, the zabrak patted himself down to remind himself what he had brought with him as well. He never liked wearing armor, the stuff slowed him down, and when he was constantly running away, slow was something that he couldn't afford to be. Thus, a consortium of blaster pistols, a retractable rifle, some grenades, some hidden blades, and a mini-pistol straddling his groin under his underwear were what he had brought with him. The stuff wasn't much of an upgrade though, all things considered, quantity over quality was perhaps his best friend when working on a budget as a smuggler.

"I've got some stuff, yeah" he summarized, not wishing to disclose his full arsenal, he had to keep some things secret after all. They were hired grunts, the only thing they could trust was the money they'd be getting out of this, they'd step over one another to be the one to get the biggest cut at the end of the day. The red skinned alien was about to ask Xel another question to see what he had been up to, but once more the PA system crackled to life, and so the mercs in the cargo bay once more looked up in mild irritation, "Alright Bros, we've descended into, like, this planet's orbit man" the now-high pilot said before continuing, "So, like, get in one of the transport shuttles and fly down to the beach. Kalvar is pretty straightforward, if you're not on some beach or desert, you're in a jungle. Okay, have fun" the voice crackled before falling silent again. Athir and the other mercs in the bay didn't need to be told twice, it was party time, and not the sweet 16 kind of party, but the turning-50-over-the-hill kind of party, the depressing party, yeah, that one.

There were six smaller transport ships in total in the massive cargo bay. Being a born and bred pilot, Athir shimmied over and slid into the cockpit of the landing vehicle whirring it to life. As he turned the ship on, he'd look over his shoulder into the open bay where mercs had begun flooding into. He hoped Xel would come on board, he may not have known much about the human, but a familiar face was better than a bloodthirsty stranger. As the cargo bay doors opened up, and the other ships finished loading mercs into them, the Bro in the cockpit would speak again, "Alright bros, remember- you gotta be like a midget trying to piss into a urinal: on your toes" before going silent for the final time, probably to finish smoking spice with his copilot.

With that, Athir gently lifted the transport off the ground of the cargo bay and flew it out into the tropical blue skies of Kalvar.

-------------

Athir kept his eyes trained on the oceans below as he piloted one of the six landing crafts towards the LZ, the beach of a singular island in the middle of a tropical sea. In the distance, the zabrak could see the island in question fast approaching. It was large, that was certain, dominated by what looked like a large dormant volcano, but almost completely covered by jungle and trees. There were no buildings so far as he could tell, although from this distance and height they'd never be able to see through the thick jungle canopy anyways. Still, things were remarkably easy and quiet flying towards the beach. Too quiet...

 

[Soup]

Xel smiled and nodded when Athir responded. He was hoping to see some interesting stuff from Athir, but Xel knew little about him. Xel started looking around at the others that would be accompanying him on the journey. Most looked like smugglers and bounty hunters pulled out of a rancor's- well they weren't too pretty. Hopefully not all of them had personalities and skills to match their looks.

Xel listened patiently and followed Athir on to one of the ships, quickly making his way into the co-pilot's seat. He examined the controls before him and rested his arms on his legs after stralping himself in. He certainly hoped that Athir was a good pilot, but if he was still alive as a smuggler he likely was. Xel was fine as co-pilot, less work for him.

As the shuttle began to fly off and away from the cargo bay, Xel eyed the planet below. It looked like a nice place, a hot one though. He rolled up his sleeves in anticipation for their landing when they arrived at the LZ. It came as a suprise that there was nothing being fired at them at the moment. Perhaps thee enemy was trying to draw the small army of mercs in before firing. Xel didn't know, but he felt uncomfortable in the suspense of blaster fire being sent their way.

 

[Nor'baal]

Should have called shotgun, Dran remarked to himself as he clambered onto the transport with his comrades, consigned to the side gun rather than his preferred copilots seat. You snooze you loose?


Buckling himself into his seat he checked the ammunition load of the laser gun in front of him, and over the sound of the engine whirring shouted his readiness for launch, accompanied by a thumbs up in case the pilot could not hear him.


With a lurch, the ship took to the skies, and he began to pan the horizon for potential threats.


OOC - Quick Question, are you chaps OK with us all bringing hostiles in or do you want to control that aspect of the RP Raven?

 

[Hol Horse]

As if on cue, the sky lit up in a blaze of blaster fire. Athir swore as he saw bolts whiz past the ship, or striking glancing blows off the side of the transport. The zabrak couldn't tell where it was they were being fired from, only that it was hidden behind the treeline of the beach. The red skinned alien dipped and weaved to shake the oncoming fire hailing upon them from the approaching beachhead. The smuggler frowned, focusing in on where the artillery barrage was coming from, estimating its origin. After making an educated guess, Athir honed in on the coordinates of the patch of jungle where he thought one of the turrets might have been, and launched one of their torpedos. The process was difficult however, and the fact that he and the rest of the merc ships were forced to break formation and evade as they approached made targeting difficult, it was on their gunner and his copilot to concentrate fire while he kept their landing craft moving.

A few explosions could be heard, one to their left and a few to their right. It seems some of the landing craft hadn't been so lucky in their evasive manuvers and had been dealt a critical blow by the hidden cannons The voices of the other pilots urgently re-iterated the importance of landing on the beach head. It felt like an eternity flying through the air like this. Smaller blaster rifle bolts now shot at them from the cover of the jungle, the assailaints frustratingly impossible to detect from their current range. Still, despite this, the mercs continued their advanced to the beach head, finally descending with guns blazing. The bros had been right, this landing was like hell. Athir flipped open the large doors to the transport bay, causing the 30 or so mercs he had on board to start flooding outwards onto the beach, using the ship as cover as they waited fro Athir and the other pilots to launch their own covering fire while the men on the beach advanced into the jungle to secure a foothold.

Slowly but surely, the black-clad soldiers of the base could be seen, firing from behind trees and the like at the invading mercenaries. Now hovering only a few feet off the ground, Athir continued to track where the cannons were firing from, diverting what remaining auxillary power was left to the frontal shields. He could take maybe one or two direct hits before he too went down in a blazing inferno. It was up to the men on the ground to find the turrets and shut them down before their only ships off this rock were fried, signalling a poor start to their operation.

OOC: sure, i gave you guys a vague ifrst priority which is to secure the beach, you can contorl enemies as you will though there will be some big baddies later i'd like to keep control of.

 

[Soup]

OOC: Sounds good to me. ^-^


Xel's eyes widened a bit and his hands grabbed the yoke before him. He tried to pinpoint the general area from which the assualt was coming from, and fired towards the area once he had. He saw the torpedo fly down from the ship and desperatly hoped that it would demolish whatever was firing at them. He kept his firing going until the landing, where he let the "troops" inside the ship leave to take on the elusive, jungle covered enemies.

Xel looked around for a moment and realised that they were lacking ships, meaning that they had already lost some of their numbers. Not a good sign for a mission that seemed to require so many mercs. Xel looked over at Athir who sat beside him in the pilot's seat with a worried look. "I reccomend we get the hell off this thing before we blow up. The enemy is bound to have something that we can leave in."

Xel unstrapped himself from his seat and ran out of the ship. Once he got to the beach, he took his FRAB off of his back and began firing at the uniformed soldiers that he was being paid to fight. Xel's accuracy had certainly improved over the years, which was shown as he took two of the enemy troops down in seconds. He had yet to miss a shot, which wasn't too hard when the enemy was standing still for the most part. Xel started advancing towards a nearby tree and hid behind it for cover as he looked over to the ship that he sat in moments ago.

 

[Nor'baal]

It would probably be safe to say that the man had never jumped out of a ship faster in his life. Allowing himself an arguably heroic moment to fire half a clip of shots back from his pintle mounted weapon, Dran divested himself of the firearm, and lept from the ship the second it was suggested they get clear by his compatriot. Falling a few feet into a haphazard roll, Dran secretly hoped the ship would explode behind him, so as to make his rapid evacuation look at least slighty heroic.


Dropping into a roll, and rising to take a knee, he scoped out the area before offering cursory and sporadic covering fire with his weapon before diving into shelter behind a large rock, which rapidly became a small rock as the enemy decided they would refocus their efforts onto his location.


”Help?” he half shouted half commanded down the communicator to his colleagues.