Log:Spice Must Not Flow:Recon
Spice Must Not Flow:Recon
OOC Date: February 11,2016
Location: Nal Hutta
Participants: Gren Delede(Also GM), Sar Yavok, Alluria Dane, Kelnas, Rebel Yell
The light whine of repulsors, and an older model starfighter swings into the Rebel Yell hangar. Unlike the slagged Firebrand, and the under repair Last Call...this Z-95 appears to be just about as cherry as it is possible for a ship of its age to be. The canopy pops open, and Gren, clad in his Tie flightsuit climbs out, and gingerly hops onto the ground. He spots Sar and Alluria, and jerks his thumb at the fighter. "You." He points at Alluria..."This is yours. Sar ordered it, I just picked it up. Go get suited up. We've got a job." He eyes Sar..."If you can fly, your fast little shitbird might be useful. We're checking out one of Wyrm's spice plants. I want to liberate its workers, if we can...and bomb the fuck out of it." He's already walking toward the Oddsmaker.
"Obi-wan Kenobi's fast little shitbird, you mean," Sar corrects with a grin before he looks down to himself. "Yeah, I'll get changed, too." And so begins the man's long process of getting back /out/ of the armor. He disappears into his apartment for a little while, and reappers wearing his Rebel Yell flight suit, moving to talk to Gren, "I fucking love these things." Alluria looks up as the starfighter wheels into place. Then Gren is pointing at her, then the ship. The words take a moment to register. "Mine?" She asks with a stunned note to her voice. She stands there a bit surprised for a moment more until the orders filter through to her brain and she gives a curt nod and heads over to get changed into a flight suit. She is still zipping it up as she returns. "Anything I need to know about her?"
Stepping out of the Elevator and looking around, kelnas raises an eyebrow at the action and notes Gren. moving towards the man, he calls out. "Looks busy. Anything I can screw up?"
"Well. She's yours until you get fragged, or quit." Gren clarifies with a grin, before shrugging. "She's a hunk of outdated junk, but she's been babied. She'll serve." Then Delede just smirks at Sar..."Yeah. His shitbird. Whatever you want to call it. Get it warmed up. With Last Call out...you and Rex are taking the pictures, and getting the scans." He pops the hatch on the Oddsman, just about the time Kelnas appears. "Checking out a Hutt's Spice factory. And splashing a secondary target to cover our tracks on the way out. Grab your freighter, or work the turret for me."
Nodding to Sar as he calls out, Kelnas follows the man. "I'm on turret then." Thankfully the man has basically been living in his light armor for the last day, he ha no need to go get ready.
Sar Yavok approaches his new Aethersprite, a swelling of pride in his chest as he walks. The prep crew are already mobilizing, setting up a ladder against the thing, as they're also doing with the Scarlet Trollop and the Oddsmaker. The commander climbs his way up the ladder and stands on the hull of the ship, kneeling down to pet the built-in astromech on the dome. He looks over and calls out to Gren, "This one's Rolie! Rexie is on the Guardian now." He slides the dome forward on the Delta-7 and slides into the cockpit, flipping a few switches and saying, "Alright, Rolie. Run a full diagnostic."
Alluria moves up the ladder into the cockpit of her new plane. She takes a moment to acclimate herself to the controls of the ship as the crew finishes readying the ship. Far cry from the transports she is used to but surely can only be easier. She settles into her seat and buckles the safety straps. "So whats going?"
Settling into the Turret gunner's seat, Kelnas makes himself comfortable before he settles in for the ride. fingers brushing over the controls as he familiarizes himself with the layout, the Wroonian goest through acquisition and fire sequence dry runs step by step, then with his eyes closed.
Nal Hutta. The Hutt's Jewel. It is a swampy, humid, muddy wasteland. Rebel Yell's flight of starfighters is burning fast and low along the surface of the world, trying to stay low as they pass through an uninhabited area of the planet, headed toward a collection of buildings known to be a spice processing facility. <<<Sar. You're taking pictures. We're flying escort. On egress, we'll be hitting one of Wyrm's flight pads.>>>. Oddsmaker flying low, and as fast as the large starfighter can manage, dodging jungle foliage, and trying to stay out of 'sight' of any air defense radars.
<<<Copy.>>> Sar manuevers the small arrowhead-shaped vessel just barely above the surface of the planet, his firm grip making minute adjustments to the craft's yoke as they're required. "Hear that, Rolie? Make sure you take lots of pretty pictures. We're gonna make Wyrm famous." Alluria is still getting the feel for this new ship as they pass over Nal hutta. Wings steady now, though at first a few over compensations as she gets the feel of the controls. There is a muttered curse as she gets pinged and she drops a bit lower, "I think I got pinged, want me to drop back and keep their attention?" She calls over the coms.
Kelnas for his part sits in the turret and watches the land go whipping by. Relaxing as Gren does the flying, he grins as he speaks more or less to himself. "I need to get one of these."
<<<Negative, Tipsy Three>>>. Gren replies over the comms, because that is her callsign, obviously. Tipsy Three. <<<Just try to get lower. Lose them...>>> The Oddsmaker drops a few meters, skimming treetops. <<<I've got -something- flaring up in the direction of the starport. Keep a sharp eye out.>>>
And then, there it is. A large complex of buildings with speeders coming and going. There is a large wall, and a number of ground to air defense emplacements. A lot of it looks new, showing signs of construction near the defensive weapons. Someone is concerned with security.
Sar Yavok is in the one Rebel Yell vessel that's actually smaller than the Last Call, so he's having no problem zipping the Sunslinger around, over, and under incoming obstacles. He reaches a clear stretch and reaches forward, pressing a button next to the interior arm rest, cycling through a few readouts on his central terminal. Settling on one he reaches forward and taps in some commands. <<<Tipsy two to Tipsy one; beginning preliminary scan of the facility.>>>
Flying lower Alluria loses the radar ping, but notes a few coming to her position and mutters again, "Got three coming in hot on an intercept course. Keep eyes open and hands off your dicks." She calls out and keeps in formation, keeping an eye on the sensors to mark the approach of the ships. "Lets make this quick, reckon the party is about to get busy."
Something catching his attention, Kelnas leans forward and hits his comms <<<I've got eyes on your intercept Tipsy 3.>>> reaching forward the Wroonian hits weapons live and waits.
<<<Copy, Three. I've got your wing. Lead the way. We're intercepting the interceptors. Two, stay on target.>>> Gren replies over comms, before looking up over his shoulder, toward the gunnery station. "Light 'em up, soon as we're in range, Blue.>>> Oddsmaker's pilot is -not- used to flying such a slow ship, or he just sucks...because all of the sudden, there are alarms screaming the cockpit. All of those air defense weapons? They are lighting up the Skipray, and looking for solid tone. <<<They've got me locked down. Get those pictures.>>>
The trio of incoming fighters appear to be relatively low quality, even for for a Hutt force. Two V-wing interceptors flying on the wing of an old ARC-170. The ARC is clearly the primary threat, but the fast little V-wings can do some damage, certainly. They are turning toward the Rebel Yell formation, clearly vectoring in on Oddsmaker.
<<<Copy.>>> Sar jerks the yoke roughly to the side, zipping around a felled tree. Rolie exclaims a series of chirps and whistles that are all translated on one of Sar's tertiary consoles, before a series of images are downloaded from the tiny droid to the ships main terminal. <<<Looks like we've got a few decent ones. Definitely reading an energy shield, so don't get too close.>>> <Rebel Yell> Stavros says, "No. I still need to get you one. Uli earned this one. :P But I've got some more ideas for fun plots that could yield weapons." Alluria seems to have gotten the hang of her new ship now and the flying has gotten smoother. No more pings on the radar, though she has definately got the trio in view now. She flicks the switches to bring her weapons online. <<Get your pictures, I will keep these boys busy.>> As she hears Gren's comments over the coms she mutters again, <<Keep in my shadow.>> She says and swings in front of Gren's ship with an ease of a skilled pilot. Her shots though miss their intended target. <<Stay still so I can hit ya ya bastard.>>
Working the station, Kelnas zeroes in on the ARC and fires. watching for results, he keys his comms. <<<Arc is hit, light Damage. Still operational.>> You test your Pilot skill at a 135 difficulty.
Ground fire is now punching up into the atmosphere, streaking around the Oddsmaker. <<<This is getting hot, folks...>>> Gren complains conversationally over the comms. He hauls back on the flight yoke, and lifts his the nose of the large starfighter, settling his firing reticule over the large ARC-120 that is clearly burning straight toward them. Moments after Kelnas' splashes fire over its shields, there is a slight shudder as the Skipray launches a proton torpedo. The blue projectile is well-aimed, and it merges perfectly with the nose of the heavy interceptor that...the warhead detonates, and wreckage rains down over the jungle, explosions setting foliage alight. <<<Got one...>>> If he had more to say, it is lost, as ground fire tears into Oddsmaker, knocking its shields offline, and sending it careening toward the muddy deck. "If you know how to fix anything...see what you can do!" Not frantic, but still...orders are shouted to Kelnas.
Both of the V-wings are focused on the Headhunter, flying fast to try to keep the Scarlet Trollop in their sights, and letting loose with waves of green laser fire. No one has spotted the Sunslinger.
The shot from the ship knocks her ship a bit and more muttered curses come over the coms. It seems Ria has a rather colourful and creative vocabulary. The rocking about at least focuses her attention a bit better and when she makes her next shot it hits the intended target which sends it to the ground. <<Gotcha.>> She calls out the coms and sets to fire on the next V wing. <<<Another pass down. Just hold them off a little longer, Tipsy Squadron.>>> Sar barely manages to skirt along a rocky outcropping as he continues to circle the outside perimeter of the compound, the belly of his ship just short of clipping into the ground. A new set of images download to his terminal, <<<Recent pass is obscured. Gotta climb higher.>>>
Looking up from his sights, Kelnas grins, trying not to giggle. "Sorry Gren. No idea about this ship." trying to take bead on the last V-wing, he touches off the trigger just a split second after the ship lurches sideways and starts to go down. Gren can hear the laughter in the Wroonian's voice as he calls out. "I think we're fucked Gren! If we live through the landing, you run, I'll distract."
<<<Two. We need to know where the power generator is. Get on it.>>> Gren has no qualms about giving Sar orders when they're in the air, clearly. He manages to corkscrew the unwieldy fighter, and avoid incoming ground fire, and laser blasts from the Pursuing V-wing. He cuts his throttle, and hauls back down on the yoke, manages to sweep up, and behind the much more nimble interceptor. His blast from the forward guns merely makes the target's shields flicker. <<<Three. Strafe the spaceport, and get out of here.>>> The order is given to the damaged Scarlet Trollop....but he sticks around to protect Sar. Who is now starting to come under ground fire.
<<<Rebel One, Rolie's picking up some high energy radiation from the center of the compound. Probably a fair enough assumption that the generator's right around there somewhere.>>> Sar is starting to take ground fire, yes, but the Corellian is managing to shake off the incoming attacks. For now.
Back to the task at hand, Kelnas zeroes in on the V-wing once mroe and touches off the blasters once again. The Ship in his sights shudders as the shields die and the Hull gets rent by blaster bolts. <<<V-wing ready for the kill>>>
"Nice shooting, Blue!" Gren call in the confines of the cramped cockpit...so he basically just shouted in Kel's ear. There is another shudder, as the V-wing manages to land a solid hit, knocking out one of the Skip's engines, and his lasers..."Piss..." Smoke is filling the cockpit, and sparks are flying. <<<One more pass, Two. We need a location!>>> He's fighting gravity, and g-forces as he hauls the crippled Oddsmaker into a tight weave, and allows the equally damaged V-wing to overtake and pass him. No lasers, but....he flips a switch, and starts to press the firing stud on his yoke. Blue ion bolts streak out, and impact the shieldless target. The V-wing falls like a rock as its systems short out. It splats into a large mud field, breaking apart as it slides into the muck. The pilot might live. He might drown. <<<Pulling out of here, Two. Follow us out. Airspace is clear.>>> But, there's still ground fire, and he needs to clear it.
<<<Got it!>>> Sar shouts over the comms as Rolie manages to pinpoint the exact location of the shield generator. <<<Alright, pulling out. This went a lot better than last time.>>> The Old Man grins and reviews the newly-downloaded images popping up on his dash.
Still giggling as he sits as a passenger in this dogfight, Kelnas sits back watching Sar and keeping an eye out for reinforcements. Reaching into a pocket, he comes out with a joint and looks at it for a moment...waiting until Gren is a little less distracted.
