|
Post by Logan Shivers on Dec 29, 2017 22:13:27 GMT
Bone Collectors
In the swirling clouds of the gas giant in Bosph a small cloud city floated. At a casual glance, if you happened to even notice it, the city was unassuming, looked tired and poorly maintained and generally not worth taking much notice of. But not many ever spotted it. It was intentionally far lower than most cities on gas giants tended to be, even the Tibanagas mining operations had no need to sit as low in orbit as this city. The vast majority of the time it was concealed by the thick swirling gasses and when it was not, it was small enough to escape anything more than a direct stare.
Being that far down, it also avoided most scanners, again unless directed in a concentrated search in its direction, again the natural gasses and radiation of the planet providing this invaluable cover. The well hidden city was home to a small but powerful gang that had built quite a notorious reputation amongst the pirates and slave trader communities. Willing to deal in some of the most gruesome trafficking and smuggling rings, they were violent, bloodthirsty but most importantly well organised and efficient. The city was little more than a labour camp and a slave market, surrounded by rundown tenements, a seedy looking hotel, a plain office building and a small landing pad with hangar. Concealed in the outer boundaries of the floating city were ten quad laser batteries, but more obviously in the labour camp surrounds several anti air assault emplacements could be found ranging from missile batteries to small calibre lasers. Foxholes and fortifies towers also dotted the city.
It was a place only evervisited by the denizens of the galactic underworld and so was suitable armed, just in case any of them decided to take chance at messing with the Bone Collectors.
The gang had started out with no particular name, but their tendency to collect their enemies bones and wear them as ornaments earned them the moniker, which eventually they adopted as their name. The gang was hand picked, and nobody really knew how that selection process worked because if you tried to get in and failed…. You were not seen again.
This somewhat limited interest in joining, and seemed to ensure that all members were complete and utter madmen or women. If you were not a member, or a slave, you did not live on the Bone Collectors city. If you got invited, you left when told, and nobody got to extend their stay for more than one night. Nobody had ever managed to get a spy into the gang, no government, no faction, no rival gang. Not that the Collectors were big enough to warrant attention from any Governments, intentionally so, but never the less most gangs tended to get infiltrated at some point by someone…. Apart from this one.
Introducing:
Overlord Lyric Verasx A titanic Gamorrean, he is the undisputed leader of the Collectors and has been since the very start. Unusually intelligent for his race.
Lord Tersen Serat Muscular, ill tempered Whiphid. A sure shot with most rifles, not a sentient to cross, even from a distance. Master at Arms.
Mistress Cora Woodle Mysterious, calm, manipulative. A Tusken Raider with a dress made of bones that she saves for special occasions. Enough said? All matters involving female slaves are her domain.
Master Solan Emala Could be underestimated as not the most intelligent, but don’t make the mistake of trying to make a fool of him.. In control of all male slaves.
Negotiator Sen Cavi A Hutt with contacts in every dark corner of the Galaxy, the most well known face of the Collectors as the only one that has open dealings with sentients outside of the gang circles. Respected by most of the underworld, feared by some, hated by all. Unconfirmed rumours are that he likes to eat his enemy, not just collect their bones.
|
|
|
Post by Logan Shivers on Jan 4, 2018 19:29:04 GMT
Dead part 1
It was like a damned oven. The ship was on a headlong charge towards the sun and there did not seem to be much they could do about it. Logan had ordered the evacuation, but only a couple had decided to take their chances in pods. Less than 300 crew remained alive onboard the floating coffin, and they werer all heading towards a cremation.
Most were working feverishly to keep systems going, primarily shields and life support. The pilot, an experienced fleet captain who could usually fly her way out aof almost any situation was trying desparately to stop the ship from spinning, using just three manoeuvring thrusters that stubbornly refused to die, along with the rest of the ships propulsion systems. She had slowed the spin down considerably and Logan was not entirely sure she had not actually managed to alter their direction slightly.
“Captain Asher?”
His voice was hoarse, the air felt like it was blistering his vocal chords and stripping the lining off his throat in each breath of air he took in. It was no doubt cooking his lungs too.
“Best I can do sir. Not enough power to slow or stop us, not enough to break out of gravity pull. Just hope I can sling shot us around, but we will be inside the corona for at least an hour….”
She too sounded like every word was a burning agony. Logan was impressed at what she had achieved, but she did not have to say out loud what they all were thinking. That long inside the corona of the sun… the chances of this already heavily damaged ship holding out were slim at best.
“How many tanks we got in med bay?”
“not enough sir, thought of that…”
“How many escape pods?”
“just about enough to stuff most of the remaining crew into, if they got three or four to a pod”
“Leave everything else, if it lasts it lasts. Get crew working on the pods to make them makeshift bacta tanks. Use every bit of the stuff we have left and get the crew in and seal them. Use the tanks for the last crew, engineers working on shields and life support and me.”
It was a desparate hope and they knew it, but it was at least a hope. The added shielding of the pods may help, their own life support systems hooked up to run cold and cool the bacta down… who knew, if they did not overload… it might just work.
Nearly an hour later, the ship almost touching the corona, the crew were stuffed inot the pods. Logan had sealed all the engineers into their tanks and set the thermostatic controls to freeze them. It would not possibly happen, not with the ship temperature so high, but it would at the very least stop the bacta from boiling… he did not like the thought of what that might do… He set the controls to the last tank. He could barely move, it was agony. The heat was indescribable. They had managed to rig this tabk up with a remote so Logan heaved himself in and closed the seal. He triggered the remote and it did the rest, turning on the systems, setting the arranged settings and filling the tank with bacta. Nothing more could be done.
Aboard the MTC Regime Changer
With the battle over, the AMC was heavily involved with post battle deployment. It was effectively licking its wounds to see just how much this victory had cost. The clean up operation both in space and on the planet itself would likely take months. The High Command, most of whom managed to survive the war, had convened aboard the least damaged ship and made it the head quarters for the clean up effort. It was stationed in orbit and was full of fresh staff flown in from Comra to man the communications suites and other necessary tasks. It was a busy ship, the fresh crew wanting to do the very best to help all those who had taken part in the battle itself. Mechanics and astromechs had been delivered by the bundreds to help with the repair effort, and shipyards across the AMC allied network were preparing to receive the most heavily damaged ships still capable of hyper travel.
In the busy comms room, a technitian monitoring the ships sensor array noticed an unexpected blip. He narrowed down the sensors to get more power to the specified location of the unexpected blip and stood there with his mouth dropped open for a while. Eventually he backpedalled furiously, almost fell over a mechanics belt lying on the floor and scrambled on all fours until he got back up and ran headlong into the adjascent command room, interrupting the gathered meeting between the high command.
“Sirs, SIRS!!! Quick, you have to come see this!”
The over excited operator almost dragged Shri by the arm as he ran back to his console.
“What are we looking at soldier?”
He pointed animatedly at a tiny spec on his screen.
“THERE, don’t you see?.. I mean, don’t you see sir?”
“I see a spec on the screen right by the sun, with the amount of debris around…”
“No sir, that close to the sun, the radiation plays havoc with all sensors, plain old debris would either be too small, or too molten to be picked up… THAT, is a ship and for it to be showing up, it is a ship with shields up”
A short silence came over the huddled members of the high command. Ichiru broke the spell.
“Thinking it could be the Ardent?”
Everyone nodded.
“Lets get a medical frigate heading over, NOT the Scorekeepers Grace. Get a Corona over too to pull her out of the damned suns Corona… get it to a safe distance and see what we will see. Don’t get your hopes up people… I know those ships specs and capabilities, and cannot see any survivors from this. Keep it quiet too.”
Max gave Ichiru a questioning look,
“Why keep it quiet? Surely it could be a morale booster for the entire faction, and especially so for Pitch Black..”
“I had not got to my report yet in our meeting… “
Ichiru gave instructions to the comms agent and imposed a faction secrecy act upon him. One of his agents from the ISS was posted to ensure compliance, and ensure anyone else in the busy room that picked up on the matter did not go talking.
Back in the briefing room Ichiru handed his reports out on datapads to all the gathered High Command.
“I have had disturbing reports coming in from Adde Dimma. I have very few agents within the faction, as there has never been a perceived need to do so, meaning my own reports are sparce and slow in coming in. It would appear though that Pitch Black is either undergoing a mutiny, or a battle for Leadership. Adde has reported that several ships have left the system and are uncontactable. The Black Dragon was supposed to be at our shipyards four hours ago to begin repairs but has not been seen or heard from since it hit hyper. A list of missing ships known so far is in the report you have. Things are volatile, Shivers supporters are banding together against groups of Trandoshans and Barabel who want to see a change in leadership and a move away from AMC and the ‘Wookie prey’ that forms such a large part of it. Fights onboard ships have been reported, on the planets surface too. Several deaths have been reported during these clashes. I feel that the damage would be even greater if we gave some hope that Logan, or even some of his close command such as Quia or Janev might be alive, only to then announce yet again that no, they are definitely dead. If we find their corpses, we can at least then send out a communication. We need to help Adde keep stability where he can.”
Max and Shri looked shell shocked, as did Enox.
“Pitch Black has always been so close to us as a faction, there has never been such internal turmoil before, how can there be so many who suddenly rise up against the status quo?
“As you all know, the T’doshok are tribal in nature. Within Pitch Black there are at least 100 clans/tribes, each with their own ‘leader’. As I understand it, Logan regularly had to deal with the leaders trying to fight him for command. But they never won, and nobody ever knew what happened to them… traditionally a fight for leadership only ends if one of the combatants dies. We can only surmise. Either way, most were terrified of him, and also far too greedy to cause too much trouble. Logan provided well for his faction members. Adde has gained his own respect, but only from those who were loyal to Logan anyway. The ones who were loyal to greed are now the ones I suspect are causing the trouble. Adde is too much of a carreer soldier and a professional to reduce himself to challenge combat, he will simply deal with this as a mutiny. I don’t know if that will work better, but it is what it is.”
A silence whilst they all contemplated and perused the details of the reports Ichiru had provided them. Max spotted a further issue and spoke up.
“Looks like the Pitch Black cities are also affected?”
“Afraid so. Uncontrolled rioting is wide spread. With so many of the actual troops being herer in Carlac, the populous had no effective police force to keep law and order. This was fine until rumour of the troubles hit the streets, families of the opposing factions began their own fights which led to the spread of vilence and disorder across each city. We have sent troop ships to each to try and quell the riots, we have also sent emergency vehicles to help control the raging fires in some of those cities. But I fear it will be too little too late. The planetary governments are likely to step in before we get there and seie control. Nimm is doing what he can to prevent this, but the fear that the riots will spill out to neighbouring cities is great.”
“I can well imagine that Logan ruled a certain element by fear alone… He was certainly someone I think most of us would think hard about fighting if we did not have to!... And having seen him fight… I can attest that he was not what you would call a ‘fair’ fighter…”
Enox had a fond smile on his face as he spoke.
“I think he would laugh at you for that, and tell you there is no such thing as a fair fight, only a fight, you win or you lose, nothing else matters. There is an honor of a kind in that too, the honesty of it.”
Shri knew Logans fighting tactics pretty well from his days in the field with him, and knew him as the ruthless, crazed sentient he could be once in battle mode.
“Gents, as much as this conversation is warming my heart in fond memory, I am afraid we have a lot of business to attend to. We must and we will remember, we will mourn all the dead, we will now also have to avenge some too, but in good time. Let us get back to sorting this gods damned mess of a system out, get our fleet back in working order, get our troops back into health, and get the planet and our new allies stabilised.”
Max pushed the meeting on, realising that his good friend Shri must also be fighting his own internal demons considering the losses he encountered in his wife and potentially his son. He knew that if he could keep his old friend focused on what needed to be done, it would help him get through the near future. After that.. once time had taken its toll, he would eventually have to grieve, but Max hoped it would be a bit easier by then.
|
|
|
Post by Logan Shivers on Jan 5, 2018 20:40:52 GMT
Dead – part 2
Joshua Little was in his trusted scout ship, making his way across the Carlac system at a relaxingly slow pace, tagging debris that was too small for the scanners to pick up. This could then get collected by larger freighters and moved to whatever collecting point the AMC organised for all the wrecks this war had created. He had a team of three on board, and four other scouts working the system as well. It was a job that needed doing, but the faster it could be done, the better. Josh needed to get his men and women back out there in the voids of space, scouting for new hyper lanes and finding routes to undiscovered systems.
He was just moving his YT away from the latest bit of floating junk when his personal comms unit lit up with a request for an encrypted conversation. Joshua closed the cockpit door and sealed it, stopped the YT dead in its tracks to avoid his innatention causing any sort of collision and sat at the pilots console. He transferred the broadcast to the console, whilst sending a quick flash note to his crew to hold fire, take a break.
“Joshua, your assistance is required, we have a situation unfolding that we need to act upon with speed, but also with discretion. The teams you currently have working in the system, are they longstanding?”
It was Max, looking tired and a bit haggard if Joshua was honest about it.
“Sir, they are my most senior scouts. They just happened to be the closest to the region when the call came in, I would trust them with my own life.”
“They may have to trust you with theirs… all four ships equipped with your standard upgraded shields?”
“Of course sir, would not risk a scout ship without them.”
“Good. Head towards the sun then… sending you exact coordinates now. Go with speed, get your other scouts to meet you there.”
The coordinates came through and Joshuas eyes opened wide.
“Sir, that is within the corona of the sun!!!”
“That is why you will need those shields. Look out for the ‘Resolute’ en route. They are expecting you and have several power unit droids ready to pick up. The Corrosion of Sanity has appeared. We do not know what its status is, but it appears intact. It is too close for any other ship currently in system to get to it. Our two shield ships have been deployed and should be here within the next 6 hours, but we need to try and get boots on there if we can, or at least an eyeball, as fast as we can…. Your ships upgraded shields…”
“Yes sir, they will be able to tolerate that proximity for a time. We also carry hostile environment suits as standard, those will help protect the crews. I guess you want us to try and get in and see if anyone made it?”
“We want you to first confirm the visual status of the ship. If you deem it possible to enter, do so, but only if it seems relatively safe. If you can make entry.. those power units may come in handy to stabilise and support whatever systems are still functional. We know that shields at the very least still are.”
Max quickly briefed him about the need for secrecy and why adding that an ISS agent was also waiting on the Resolute to accompany them. This was not to watch over Joshua, but because he was a specialist code breaker and may be needed to gain access to the ship. He would also be hacking into the ships files if he could and retrieve whatever data he could to hand over to Adde.
It did not take the nimble little YT long to reach the Resolute, the droids and the agent were onboard in no time and he was on his way to the Ardent. He was amazed that the ship was still in one piece with shields functioning after such a long time in the corona. After all, the Resolute, a Corona carrier frigate had not been able to get closer without its own systems failing. The YT had its upgraded shields at full strength, Joshua and his crew were already in the hostile suits – agent included, and they stood all together cramped into the cockpit, staring at the astonishing view ahead of them.
The cockpit windows had gone almost completely opaque in order to block out the suns harmfull rays, but still, they could see the Ardent ahead of them. And although clearly very heavily damaged, it did not look like a ship that was falling apart…. Whilst waiting for another of his scout ships to arrive on scene, Joshua did a slow circuit of the Corrosion of Sanity. It actually looked intact, his sensors seemed to agree with him, however with the amount of radiation in the vicinity their reliability was not great. But his brain was telling him this was clearly not possible. Tos save some of his own shields strength, he took his ship in close to the shadow of the Ardent, taking refuse in that diminished heat area. He was amazed to see his sensors recognise a 2000 degree drop in temperature just by entering the ships shadow. He instructed the other scouts to do likewise and waited until they were on scene.
Joshua was going to make the first attempt at entry. The others were to wait and be ready to act. He wanted emergency contingency in place, three back up ships were not that many when in this sort of environment.
Luckily for them all, the hangar bay was wide open, the gleam of the environmental shield not present either. Even more luck, the bay was facing away from the sun, so was in the shade of the ship. Gingerly, Joshua and his copilot edged their ship closer and closer, into the hangar bay and then at last, set her to hover in the far end of the bay. He did not wish to land her skids… there was something odd looking about the ship now that they were inside, and the sun was not blinding everything. Joshua could not quite put his finger to it, but it was enough to make him hesitate to actually land the YT. All suited, they entered the tight space of the small ships cargo hold and used it as an air lock, opening the outer ramp whilst the inner blast doors remained tightly sealed.
Josh was first out, he took one step onto the vast hangar bay deck and froze. That felt odd… He crouched down and took a good look at the area his foot was standing on and slowly increased, then decreased the pressure he placed on his foot.
“By the gods…. The ship is almost molten!!! The metal is so soft it is indenting under my foot” He was suddenly glad of the expensive and powerfull suit he was wearing. Carefully he put his full weight on that one foot and seing that it did nothing too freaky, like sinking into the deck, he added his other foot, then slowly but methodically walked over to the nearest control panel. It was completely fried. The screen on it was a liquid and touching it sent it splashing away in globules.
“No chance of using that then” He muttered to himself.
The internal door was closed, but with the state of the ship it took no effort at all to get through. The added heat of a lazer cutter melted the thing so that it sunk to the deck in a misshapen heap. Joshua nad his men had to be wary, their suits were good, but only so good… prolonged contact would still damage them and bring danger to the wearer.
Joshua and his men had long ago developed a trick, on a planet that was mostly molten rock, they had found that their suits lasted very well indeed if they spent most of their time standing, or sitting on an anti grav sled. They had designed a heat shield to fit them and used them the entire time they were scouting that planet. Joshua was a hoarder… Those sleds were still in that cramped YT cargo hold so his crew got them out, loaded four droids onto the first two, and used the other two to take turns standing on them whilst the other crew pulled them along. This way each suit got a break from direct heat contact from the almost molten ship.
Painfully slowly, and very, very carefully, the five of them inched their way deeper into the ship, keeping lines of communication constantly open amongst themselves and with the other YT scouts stationed outside. Almost an hour into the exploration of the ship, in which time they had only made headway as far as the central corridor, and Joshua took note of his surroundings. Without even the emergency lights on the ship active, it was pitch black in the ship, something Joshua suddenly found amusing until he realised it was perhaps inappropriate.. so their suits torches were the only light source making their progress a bit more cautious.
“Anyone else find the complete lack of bodies a bit odd?” “Is it hot enough in herer for them to have just melted away?”
The slightly tremulous voice of one of his men enquired.
“not without a trace, I am no scientist, but there would be a trace at least surely… “
“Sir, the floor… its… well, less soft here…”
Joshua had been taking his turn on the sled so he hopped down to check it out. Indeed, the floor was actually quite solid in this hallway. Checking the temperature, it was considerably cooler, or more accurately, less hot in the central hallway.
“Go check those panels over there, see if they are functional”
Joshua himself went over to a larger, command access panel and tried that. It was barely functional but it was working. One of the crew made him jump with an excited cheer,
“Sir, got the power units hooked up, the ship is getting some more juice! The sockets here are working”.
That was enough information for Joshua to start the next phase.
“Go back and get the other power droids, hook them up to every socket you can find in the central hallway. If not enough, hook them to each other. Scouts 3 and 6 enter the bay, do not land, park them up and hover, get the droids unloaded and to the central corridor. Once done, link scout 3 directly to the power grid of the ardent, you will need to trail a cable through, don’t let it sit on the deck. Grav plates are off so it should float nicely. Get moving but do it slowly, and carefully. Report when done.”
Joshua returned his attemtion to the command panel. The ISS agent had got into it and was scrolling through systems reports.
“very clever. With the ships engines being damaged beyond use, they re-routed all power cells to shields. One engine power plant is still functioning, but not well. Had we left it much longer the ship would have shut down. The power units we just added have given us perhaps another hour, so more would be wise as you have planned. There is also a track of power going to… odd, to locations where escape pods would be, and one other to what appears to be a medical bay.. Power to the escape pods however failed some time ago. There is still a trickle being sent to the medical bay. Should I cut it off to add that power to shields?”
“No, not if it is a mefical bay. Lets go see what we find, the crews will be busy for now, so we can make use of the time to investigate further. With it being a medical bay…..”
Joshua did not want to finish that sentence, it was too much like giving himself false hope.
|
|
|
Post by Logan Shivers on Jan 9, 2018 23:13:20 GMT
In the dark corridor, Joshua and the agent slowly made their way towards the location of the mystery room, the one potentially turned into a medical bay. They had realised that it would involve going up to the next level and with the ship in the state it was in, even trying the lifts was out of the question. Instead, they found a service hatch and opened it, the more or less weightless environment making it easy for them to carefully rise up and come out at the next level.
The heat appeared to have damaged, or limited the function of the gravity plates installed within the ship to give it a false internal gravity, like all ships. Instead, it seemed that the gravity was almost non existant. It made it easy in one way, but also more dangerous. It was too easy to push off too hard and slam into a ceiling, one so hot it could perhaps damage your helmet when the impact shock added to the heat. It had also become apparent that their suits would only last so long in the current heat. They had perhaps been in the ship for an hour, perhaps a bit longer and the agents suit hjad lost the function of one of its built in torches. The light had simply fried. With the remaining functions of his suit appearing ok, he had insisted on carrying on though and so here they both were, slowly making their way towards what appeared in the gloom to be a closed door.
The agent got to the control panel next to the door first and began tapping codes into it. He froze though and then stepped back. “I dare not open it. The room has atmosphere inside. I open this door and IF there is anyone left even remotely alive in there…. Not that I can believe there would be but…well..”
“Agreed, not worth the risk. I will get one of the crew to allocate a power unit purely for this room, pump the atmospheric controls to full power and ensure life support is in full function. That will help keep temperature lower. We can only hope that if that door panel is functioning, so will the equipment in that room.”
After making the necessary arrangements, Joshua left his men to their work and returned to his YT. He sat in the cockpit, took off the helmet of his suit and immediately regreted it. He thought he had been hot inside his suit… but the air inside the cockpit of his YT was ten times worse. The ships life support clearly pushed to its limits in the solar environment. He slapped the helmet back on and waited a couple of minutes while his suit desperately tried to cool back down. It was clear to him that it would not be a quick cool down, so he ignored the sweat tht dripped down his face, that soaked his clothes, and checked on the ships systems. She was holding up well. Her upgraded systems holding up admirably against the ridiculous temperatures. Comforted that this ship was holding up, he also checked on the other two stationed in the bay and found that although their power was being shared with the Ardent now, they too were holding up well. Their way out was still viable. Just as he was about to step back onto the almost molten deck of the hangar bay, Joshuas comm unit crackled to life, an incoming transmission from the Resolute.
“Joshua, this is Enox. I hope you are all holding out well on there?”
“Yes sir, it is not somewhere I wish to stay for much longer though.”
“Understood. We are underway. Our two Shield ships have been deployed and are making their way to your location. Just trying to match the speed of your orbit of the sun so we can come in at the right angle. The resolute is just about managing to hide behind their shields, but it is a tight fit, and it is straining all the crews to their limits so we are taking it steady. We estimate being on site in under half an hour though.”
“I will begin our extraction then. There is little more we can do and I don’t think adding the mass of our three ships to the equation is sensible, not when the outer hull and outer floors of this shop are so damned soft… I fear the tractor beam could tear the hull off like butter coming off a hot knife…”
“Agreed, get your men out, you have risked enough. Those suits of yours cant last forever in there either.”
Joshua could tell they were getting closer. The communication had started off weak and distorted, but it was getting stronger and stronger now.
“Think the suits would be ok for another hour no more, so good timing. We will pop out and bug out as fast as these ships will carry us, I want to get them out of the heat, they are coping at present, but I have no doubt that deterioration of systems and materials is underway, even our upgraded shields are not keeping the heat at bay. Wish you good luck General.”
“Nobody could have asked more of you and your men. Get out and go get those ships checked out, get some well earned rest.”
“Not a chance…. I for one plan to be there when that room is cracked open…”
“I think you have earned that right. But Joshua, I am sorry, but your men cannot be there.”
“Understood. Joshua out.”
He cut the connection and contacted all his crew.
“Listen up all, time to get out. If all droids are not in place just link them to the nearest droid in circuit and make your way to your ships. We are done, lets get out of this oven.”
He did not wish to waste their time dragging the long power cable slowly back into the two ships that were currently helping to power the Ardent, so he also told his men to leave them be. They could disconnect at the last minute from their end and leave the cable behind.
Aboard the Resolute, Enox watched as four dots emerged from the shadow of the Corrosion of Sanity and sped away from the sun at their best possible speed. He breathed a sigh of relief that they had all managed to survive that mission. It had been immensely dangerous, but the brave scouts had indeed survived… and possibly secured the stability of the ship for long enough to get it away from the lethal clutches of the sun. A total of 40 power unit droids had been deployed on that ship, and the clever engineers of Joshuas crew had managed to get five of them hooked up to the ships hull integrity support systems. A sort of energy field that supported the hull of a ship, so when it took damage, little if no atmosphere vented as it immediately created an atmospheric shield in the breach. The shield by nature also had some traction capability so it helped to hold the breach together. It was a little known side affect, but usefull none the less.
Those five droids would of course have no hope of powering this field for the entire ship, so the engineers had limited it to a section of the ships hull in the shadow, just large enough for the tractor beam to target. It was hoped that by doing this, and ensuring that the pull was done slowly, the ship would not simply tear itself apart, with the hull being in an almost molten state, it would be a difficult tow, perhaps impossible without that little bit of added help from the energy field.
The Iron Accord and the Intervention, the two shield ships, with their massive sun shields at the forefront, made their way slowly towards the Ardent. The Resolute was following the Intervention, flying in tight behind the cooler shadow area cast by the shield. As they drew closer, the Iron accord drew away, slightly altering its approach angle so it would place itself between the Carlac Sun and the Ardent. Had the shield ships been any faster, they would have been here straight away, negating the need to risk the scout crews on their mission, but alas, the giant ships were slow and lumbering.
It took the experienced crew of the Iron Accord a further half an hour to establish themselves in the proper position and provide much needed shade for the Ardent. The Resolute and the Intervention had entered into a position just above and slightly to the near side of the Ardent, the two enourmous shield ships carefull not to catch each other with their shields.
Enox wanted to allow some time for the Ardent to sit in the shadow of the shields, however he was also very aware that those power droids would not keep things going for long, and this extraction could take hours in itself. He ordered the tractor beam be engaged and the mission began. With some careful and amazingly precise targeting, the engineer in charge of the beam managed to anchor it right in the centre of the reinforced hull area. Confirming a good link, the Corona began to slowly pull backwards at their slowest possible speed.
A tense few minutes went by, the crew on all ships studying the situation with rapt attention. The concentration on everyones faces was clear and there was not a sound to be heard above the hum of the ships.
A spotter on the Resolute was the first to break the tomb like silence.
“SIR! The hull…. Its… well, its stretching?!”
Enox zoomed in on the area around the tractor beam and could indeed see how the hull of the Ardent was stretching. It almost looked like it was rubberised in the way it bulged out.
“Engineering, is that ship moving or are we simply tearing its skin off?”
“Sir just running some calibrations. She is definitely moving but I want to check if she has matched our speed or not.”
“Hurry it up. Engines, all stop, then back to minimum thrust. If we cant go any slower, I want to decrease our speed by slightly pulsing the thrusters, can you make that work?”
“Sir engine room, yes, think we can do that.”
“Sir, Tractor engineering, looks like she was not quite up to speed, we show no tears in the hull as yet, and the engine stop seems to have halted any further bulging. We may have to wait until we are a bit further out before we can increase any speed sir, the gravity well is immensely powerfull here, even our ships are showing effect.”
“Everyone, lets keep it nice and slow. No point in dragging them out only to rip the ship apart. Send in probes, I want to know more about the temperature on that ship. I want to know if it is dropping, I want to know how fast.”
“Joshua, you still in system?”
“Of course sir, would not miss this. Ship diagnostics show no major issues, some fried circuits and some minor blistering in places that will need patching up, but we are fully operational.”
“I may need you to go back in…. If we cannot pick up the pace soon, and we most likely cant, that ship is going to run out of juice.”
“Want me to go hook the YT power cells back up to the Ardent.?”
“Actually… Think you could fly a Longprobe in with your thermal suit on? With the shield ships in place, you can get from the Resolute Hangar to the Ardent in shadow. That power unit is just as potent as the YT, the ship is smaller and its sensors could actually help us get valuable information transmitted out from the ship with regards to its integrity etc. You could leave it there, get your YT to pick you up and scarper.”
“Guess you want me to come collect the Longprobe from the Resolute then?”
“Knew I could count on you Joshua.”
Enox cut the connection and went back to his intent stufy of the screen, the viewport and the data streams all being fed over to him. This was going to be a long day.
In the end, it took over eight hours to extract the Ardent to a safe enough distance from the sun, and into a stable non degrading orbital pattern. The Iron Accord remained in place, continuing to provide a cooling shadow for the superheated ship. Power lines were dragged across from the Corona to fully stabilise what systems the Ardent had left, and finally a full ten hours after the operation began, the ship cooled down enough to allow for safe operations to proceed.
Enox was the first to set foot on that ship, well, other than the scouts of course from their dangerous mission, and he made a beeline straight for the reported medical room. Atmospheric shielding was working in most of the ship now and engineers were pouring out from shuttles to get working on further stabilising and securing systems.
Enox stood infront of the door to the medical room. The Chief Apothecary along with two of his most senior medics and a sled full of equipment stood to one side of him, he was not even sure how or when the master medic had appeared, but he was glad to have him there. On the other side of his stood Joshua, and the ISS agent who was busy fiddling with the control panel for the door.
“It has had several overrides put into place, lots of security… they were determined to keep this door sealed irrelevant of any malfunction the ship may incur. And they were successful it would appear. Data streams show atmosphere was contained throughout, however…. Well, temperatures did peak off the scale and burnt out the thermostat. I have no idea what temperature it is in there at present, but there is air so….”
The door hissed open, grinding slightly against its runners and then got jammed halfway. It was more than wide enough so Enox stepped through, eager to find out if by any miracle, there had been any survivors.
The sight that greeted them almost made their legs buckle. The agent in truth backed out and vomited noisily in the corridor. A series of bacta tanks stood inside, all full, and each one containing a carcas that looked to have been stripped of its flesh almost entirely to the bone. Cooked meat floated around in vile chunks in each tank, strips of what had once been skin of one type or another now looked like old leather. As the air began to circulate a bit with the opening of the door, the smell also hit them. It was possibly worse than the sight, but truth be told, it was a close call.
Enox stood next to Joshua in stunned shock. Both had hoped for survivors… both had put their faith in there being at least one to make this all worthwhile…
As they stood there in stunned horror, Gene and his medics stepped past, their professional side taking over and went to immediately study the scene. As they went further in, Gene spotted an even more horrific site. One poor soul had been in a malfunctioning tank, the seal had not held and the door had opened, spilling its contents onto the deck. Although this one was not boiled alive, he, or she Gene amended mentally, had clearly writhed in pain on the scortching hot floor before it became too much and they had, hopefully, passed out before dying. Gene could just about tell that this had been a reptilian of sorts, it had scales, now black and burnt, looked like some had actually set to burning from the heat. The skin beneath had melted and got stuck to the deck in many places. Whilst the pour soul had still been conscious enough to move in pain, the skin had torn off where it had got stuck, pouring out blood that had then instantly congealed in the heat. If he had to take a guess, he would wager this was a Trandoshan… but only really because it was a Pitch Black ship and that was a very likely form of reptilian to find aboard. He bent down to run his scanner over the body and try to identify it from its DNA sequence and almost toppled over in shock.
His scanner showed that this one, however horrifically burnt and injured it may be, this… thing, was actually alive… barely, but it was still alive!
|
|
|
Post by Logan Shivers on Feb 3, 2018 21:44:58 GMT
Alive?
“General, please clear a path to the hangar bay, we will need a clear path to the sprint and please arrange it quickly.”
The Apothecary motioned to his men and the sled was brought over. On it, was a bacta bath amongst many other items in a bulging medikit. Gene took a pair of laser scalpels and handed one to the nearest medic.
“We have to get him in the bath for transportation, but he appears to have at least partially stuck to the deck after his skin melted onto it. We don’t have time to be gentle and try to peel the attached skin back. Help me to cut it away, keep as much as you can obviously. Mr Ives, please dose the patient with bacta and dress the fresh wounds we are about to cause with patches quickly. If there is still time after that before we are able to move him, please see to his remaining clothing.”
The third medic nodded his understanding and all three made themselves busy. The smell of roasting flesh was singularly unpleasant, but being the professionals, they managed to somehow ignore it. Enox, a battle hardened General, and Joshua – no stranger to the unpleasant side of battle either, both struggled to keep their last meal down. The boiled bodies, floating in bits inside the bacta tanks had been bad enough, but to see this was worse. It was worse because this one was somehow alive, and who knew what sort of pain they had endured, and most likely still were despite the unconscious state they were in.
The hallway was cleared of all personell and equipment, as was the area between the sliced open blast door and the loading ramp of the sprint.
Enox returned to the medical room just in time to see the medics, with Joshua assisting, carefully lower the body into the bacta bath. The misshapen limbs were carefully placed at rest inside too. The head was almost entirely submerged too, with a tube coming out of what could only once have been a mouth to assist in breathing. The recognisable features on this creature were few. Enox stared at the deformed face but had no idea even what type of reptilian he was looking at. One of the hands appeared to only have three digits, this could narrow down the species a little… but it was all guess work.
The Apothecary approached Enox, leaving his two assistants to move the sled out of the room and int the corridor, on its way to the awaiting shuttle.
“General, once I have the body in a stable condition, or perhaps I should say if… It is a miracle it isstill alive.. I will run some geneology tests to determing species, and perhaps even identity, if it was a senior staff member we should have their data on file. In the mean time, I will send some medical droids over to clear up the other bodies from here.”
“No Gene. These were AMC brothers and sisters. However gruesome, their remains will not be handled by droids. I will get some of our veterans who are more adjusted to such sights come in and organise clean up and proper collection of the remains. If you could have one of your medics identify species for the remains, we can ensure the appropriate burial rights are performed for each.”
Gene nodded his understanding, placed a hand on Enox’s shoulder in sympathy and left the room. Joshua stood there with Enox in silence. Their gazes appeared drawn to the outline of the body on the deck where it had been cut free. The creature had actually melted to the deck and yet still amanged to remain alive.. neither could really comprehend the agony of such a thing. Their silent contemplation however was interrupted by a very pale and ill looking Chiss. He stormed into the room and faced the General.
“Sir, the escape pods… sir, its horrible… they must have made them into makeshift bacta tanks sir.. but sir…”
Enox placed his hands on the soldiers shoulders and looked into his eyes. He drew the soldiers attention towards the content of the room.
“I am afraid that I can imagine the rest soldier”
The already ill looking Chis turned and looked, then bent over double and emptied the content of his stomach onto the deck.
|
|
|
Post by Logan Shivers on Feb 3, 2018 21:46:15 GMT
Recognition.
It had been nearly two weeks since the Ardent had been dragged clear of the Carlac suns corona and at long last the terrible task of laying the unfortunate crew remains to rest had been completed. The ship had been stabilised and sealed off, leavin only a crew of astromech droids to slowly carry on internal repairs whilst it floated in place. The decision had neen made to leave it there for now as it could not withstand a journey in the hyper lanes even if they could repair its engines. The entire hull structure was weakened and deformed, but luckily still intact, but only just. It was being considered as a permanent floating monument to the Carlac war, but as it was property of Pitch Black, they would have to wait until the situation within that Consortuim stabilised before discussing the matter with its leadership structure.
It was still hoped that Adde Dima would prevail, and the AMC was certainly supporting his efforts as he was the best hope for keeping Pitch Black together and the only hope for keeping it within the AMC.
Unknown as yet by the Council and leadership of the AMC, another hope was slowly being built up. In a secure and secluded medical room aboard one of the AMC’s medicae class Nebulon frigates, Gene was gazing in amazement at the sight infront of him. The body he had removed from the Ardent was not only still alive, but with the aid of every ounce of medical skill and knowledge he and his two most senior staff members could muster it was now stable. It was in fact, stable enough for him to run a full geneaology test and part of his amazement was in the results. The deformed body in front of him now had a name. Of all the crew on that ship, the fates had decreed that Logan Shivers was going to be the one that survived. Gene was beginning to think that nothing could kill that reptilian, after all, he had almost been wiped out in the first throws of the Carlac war and Gene had brought him back from the brink of death then too. Gene deleted the results and replaced them with ‘unknown male Trandoshan’. He then walked over to the comms panel built into the far wall of the medical room and requested a secure and encrypted connection to Max. The medical room had nobody else in it, Gene had not wanted even his most trusted medical staff in there when he ran the test. He had strict instructions to keep this all quiet and under no circumstances let rumours of a survivor escape the ship. As far as most of the crew knew, this room was occupied by a captured Darkness being and it was therefore out of bounds to all but a select few. The link connected to Max and Gene smiled at the much less haggard looking Wookie.
“Proconsul, please would you arrange to attend the secure room with whomever you wish to be included in this matter. I have developments I will not speak of even over such a secure connection.”
Max nodded and replied that he would arrange a visit the very next day if that suited. The timing was good for Gene, it gave him time to do some more work on the poor Trandoshan. Stable he may be, but he was still some way off from being able to do anything but lie there in an induced coma.
|
|
|
Post by Logan Shivers on Feb 3, 2018 21:47:25 GMT
The new intake
Tersen watched as the Necropyre, their Crusader Corvette made its slow and steady approach to the landing pad. It was a tricky landing at the best of times, the pad was barely large enough to contain the ship, but with the current storm that was raging in the gas giant it was being made an almost impossible task. But to his satisfaction the bridge crew brought her in closer and closer, keeping the large ship as steady as a rock in the buffeting winds. With a slight click its skids touched down and the ship settled down on them with its full weight as the anti grav was powered down.
Plumes of white smoke billowed out of exhaust vents as the ship was slowly taken through its shut down process. It obscured Tersens view of the ship for a while, but when it cleared he saw that the ramp was down and Solan and Cora where herding the newest slaves down onto the deck. The pair were like chalk and cheese. She was a mysteriously sultry figure that oozed a dangerous sex appeal. She wielded her whip with artful delicacy, using it to barely lick her charges should they stray from her intended path. The Tusken had been with them almost since day one and knew how to handle herself. Soran on the other hand was a looming Abyssin that barely looked like he was paying attention half the time. Anyone stepped out of line and there was no artfull flicking of a whip, he had a tendancy to pound any offending slave so hard they then had to be carried by other slaves until a medic could be bothered to sort them out. His tolerance was low and his charges soon found out that despite him looking absent minded, he spotted every single thing they did.
Cora had just two females in her care, a plump Chiss – she would soon lose that excess weight, and a stunning female of his own race. Whiphid females just had a beauty about them like no other race as far as he was concerned, their musky smell, their soft furr…. But he was getting carried away. It would be a while before she was trained, but perhaps he would take her for some lessons of his own before her training was done and she was sold. After all, there had to be benefits to being the Lord of this operation.
Solan had four males. All four were Defel and all four showed the signs of Solans care. Tersen watched as the six were handed to other overseers and taken away to the cells beneath. He was expecting the two to head over to him to report, but instead they both went back into the ship. They emerged shortly after hauling a limp bodies Hutt between them. Solan was obviously doing the bulk of the work, but Cora did not shy away from the grunt work. As they got to the bottom of the ramp the Hutt began to stir so they left him there and called for buckets of cold water. The creature was showered with it and the shock brought him back to consciousness in a roaring rage. He thrashed like a raging animal, fighting the stun cuffs despite the obvious pain they were causing him for doing so and trying his best to land some sort of strike agains his captors. Tersen watched with interest to see just how long it would take for Solan to lose his temper…. The Hutt made its final mistake, it spoke without being instructed to speak…. In fact, is bellowed…
“DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?? DO YOU KNOW WHO YOU HAVE CROSSE…..”
He did not get to finish his rant. Solan used his fists like hammers in a blindingly fast attack that sent the large Hutt sprawling to the deck. With a grunt of effort Solan turned the thing onto its back and straddled its huge head. In the blink of an eye he had grabbed the disgusting tongue of the Hutt and pulled it until the creature screamed in pain instead of rage. Solan kept pulling until with a tearing sound he ripped it free of the huts mouth. He got up, threw the slimy tongue to the deck and kicked the Hutt into unconsciousness. He motioned for the returning overseers to take the creature down below.
“Cell, put salt in water, leave salted food in cell.”
Tersen smiled. Now that was just vindictive, but the Hutt must have been causing quite a stir for Solan to do what he had done. It would all come out in the report, and Tersen was in no hurry.
The two finally came over and bowed slightly in deference. Tersen nodded his head in acknowledgment and led the two to his office for a debriefing.
# # # # #
At about the same time, Overlord Lyric Verasx, the titanic Gamorrean was sitting on a two seater sofa that he used as his office chair, listening to the screams of the slaves echo in the cavernous training dome. He knew that Hadji, his master Confessor was hard at work, extracting information from his charges and teaching them humility and obedience at the same time. He had never known Hadji to fail in his task of teaching this submition. He had even seen him bring a subject back to life time and time again after bringing it so much pain its heart would fail. It was both fascinating and terrifying to witness. He had just finished watching a holo report from Sen Cavi, their Negotiator. The Hutt had a mind for business and a network of contacts like nobody else Lyric knew. He was also clever enough to know to send his reports in holo form as Lyric hated reading.. it was not easy, and so he hated it. He would rather peel off his own skin that sit there and read report after report. It was not that he lacked intelligence… anyone who dared even think that risked their lives, no, he was just not willing to read when he could simply watch.
Sen had not only reported a successful sale of ten slaves, transport of which Lyric would soon get organised, but he had also found a source for some new stock. That was always welcome news to Lyric. He did not like it when the base was quiet, the lack of screams kept him awake at night.
|
|
|
Post by Logan Shivers on Feb 9, 2018 22:24:02 GMT
Awakening
Over a month after the Corrosion of Sanity had been hauled away from the destructive heat of the Carlac Sun, Gene finally felt that it was safe to bring Logan out of his induced coma. His natural rejenerative powers had helped the healing process massively. In fact, if they were not so strong in him, he would not have survived in the first place. Gene had still needed to help things along, operating on him several times to remove cooked tissue that was blocking rejeneration, scraping black carbon from bones too burnt to heal themselves and separating parts of his body both external and internal that had fused together in the tremendous heat. Despite his best efforts, Logan still did not look anything like he once did. His formidable muscle mass had wasted away, his rough, dark green scales that covered his body were no longer a thick layer of protection, but a weak, thin and brittle substance more like tree bark in texture. The areas where the skin had melted, which was almost everywhere, you could see the scarring, it still looked like his skin and scales were molten, not a solid. His face… well, here Gene was most concerned. He had managed to save Logans eyes, they had somehow survived the heat mostly intact, but when Logan fell out of the bacta tank he must have face planted, shattering the fron of his skull which had then sort of fused back in a misshapen, flattened mess. Gene had been busy re-breaking bone, reshaping, but, well, truth be known, he could simply not get the features as nature had once intended. And the scarring… it was at its worst here. Logan had never been a pretty sight, well, to those not of his species anyway, but what was there now was downright ugly.
But all that was cosmetic. To Gene, the fact that the internal organs had all now settled and were functioning on their own within acceptable margins was a miracle, and something he was very proud of. His new worry, and one he would not be able to alleviate without waking Logan up, was how his brain had fared. He had removed shards of bone from it, had to scrape off sections that had burnt to allow for rejeneration.. but he did not know how a brain would be affected by such a thing. Would it still be Logan, or would the damage be too great and although the cells rejenerated, what came back would be a husk of Logan? Gene took hold of himself and settled his nerves. It was time to find out. He stopped the drug feeds, leaving only the plasma infused bacta drip in place.
Now it was just a waiting game. He had made sure he was on his own for this, if all was lost and what came back to consciousness was but a husk… he did not wish to have politics involved in his decision to terminate the life of the being that would no longer be Logan. That was a decision that could only be taken medically and ethically and politics had no place in such a thing.
Less than an hour later a soft moan escaped from Logan. His body physically tensed for a second then relaxed, then strained again. His eyes came open and Gene could see a mess of emotions in them, but over riding it all he could see an immense amount of pain? That concerned him, he should be past most of the pain by now. Without missing a beat, Gene infused the plasma infused bacta with a strong pain killer and saw its effects spread throughout Logans body, helping him to relax back down. His eyes closed for a while, then slowly opened again, the orbs within scanning the room until they locked onto Gene.
“…eeene?”
Had he just tried to speak Genes name?! Now THAT would be a good sign, Gene prayed it was the case.
“Logan, can you hear me, do you know who I am?”
The head tried to nod, the eyes screwed up in pain and the motion stopped.
“..esss…. eene… hurr…. “
A series of unintelligible grunts and groans followed, but Gene was convinced Logan was trying to speak Genes name through that damaged mouth. It would take him some time to get speech back to some semblance of normality due to the shape of his mouth cavity having changed so drastically from the damage to the bone and flesh. Gene had even had to replace most of the teeth with implants.
“Logan, are you still in pain, hurting?”
“esssssss” he almost growled.
Gene increased the pain relieving drug and saw Logan relax further. He could not increase it much more or he would most likely induce a coma again.
“Logan, you have been through a nightmare. I will do my best to get you back on your feet, but you are going to have to be patient this time. No leaving my care until I say so.”
“ ireg… sleek..”
Gene tilted his head in the effort to make his words out.
“Did you say that you are tired and want to sleep?”
“esss”
Natural sleep would be good for him, it meant his brain would be in control of it and not a drug, it would aid his healing much more. Gene got up and lowered the lighting in the room.
“Sleep my friend, gather your strength for you will need it all I fear.”
Logan was already asleep though.
|
|
|
Post by Logan Shivers on Feb 9, 2018 22:24:27 GMT
The pain, the Horror…
Logan had been in a world of pain for eternity. He had gone to the hells, to the deepest of the Scorekeepers demented realms for those who failed her. He was certain of this. He had, after all, had so much time to think about it. The pain at first had been unbearable, it stopped his brain from functioning. He was cooking, he was melting, but yet he did not exist, it must have been Her torturing his soul, for no body would withstand such treatment.
But eventually he managed to bring his thoughts into coherence. He was able to actually think. And that perhaps had proven worse. He not only had the pain to suffer, but now his brain could bring him terror and torment all on its own. The nightmares that plagued him werer beyond description, they were constant, he could not simply wake up to get away from them.
An eternity, of this? He had broken. Again, and again, and once more. But how could he break more than once? It was Her, she must have been keeping him from escaping the torment by not allowing him to break and just be, or drift away into non-existance, into releasing his tortured soul into nothingness.
And then his body screamed at him, it sent lancing shocks of pain running up and down his arms, his legs, his torso… from deep inside to the very surface of his skin. Wait, his body? No, that could not be, he did not have a body, he was a lost soul, he was dead, he was… IN PAIN… so much damned pain…
His mind found control of his eyelids, they opened and new, stabbing, searing pain hit his already pounding head. He fought through it, through the darkness the threatened to come over him again, he somehow knew that this was important, that this was good, despite the pain… his mind moved his eyes, more pain, felt like he was having them pulled out, but he kept on moving them… and there… therer.. what was that?.. a face, something to focus on. He stared for a while, and through the fog of his torture he finally made it out. It was a face he knew… what was his name?... it was there somewhere… in the deepest recesses of his mind… Gene!! That was it, it was Gene, he was a doctor, a good one… he fixed Logan when he broke himself against enemies… so he must be doing that now… Logan must be hurt, that explained the gods damned pain…. He had to tell Gene he was hurting, Gene could sort that out….
He tried to speak, to move his tongue, his mouth… it all felt so… unfamiliar? Njever mind the pain, this was important, he HAD to be able to speak to Gene… He managed to make some noises, he barely understood them himself but Gene seemed to, he did something, it made a icy cold start to spread through himi, it was so nice… it was beautiful…. He felt like he was floating. It was still in the background, the pain, but it was deep, he could ignore it, he could pretend it was not there for now.
But he was also tired. Gene was talking, Logan did not really register much, he heard his name so he tried to nod, that was a mistake but he made more noises, then he decided he was too tired. He needed sleep and Gene let him have it. Silent, blisfull sleep, without pain, without nightmares?
Logan woke several times over the next few days. Always with pain flooding into his every fibre, always with a fading nightmare in his head. But he was certain that it got that little bit better each time. Or was he simply becoming more able to cope with the crippling pain? Each time Gene would feed him, liquid food but it was about all he could manage, then dose him with pain killers and he would relax, falling asleep once again. Logan lost track of time, it was really quite meaningless to him, time just consisted of blackness, nightmares and pain.
Then it definitely started to get better. He would not wake up in agony, but almost like a switch had been pulled, he would simply wake up in pain. Simple pain, just a discomfort compared to the previous searing pain. The room would usually be lit dimly, Gene in a corner studying something or other with a small lamp to let him work. Logan would make a noise and Gene would get up and come to him. The poor medic had become a nursemaid? Logan felt embarrassed at that…
Then, one day he awoke. He could tell before he opened his eyes that the room was much better lit. It shone through his eyelids. He did not wish to open his eyes to that, not yet. He did not move, did not make a noise. Not yet, he was just taking in the feelings and sensations around him.
That was when he heard the first voice, one he knew…
“So you believe his mind is intact?”
“Yes Proconsul. He is fully self aware, in brief discussions we have had, he has shown that he knows himself, his name that is, recognised me, knows what year it is.. it is quite remarkable really.”
“And you believe he will make a full recovery? Mental and physical?”
“I believe so sir, he is most likely not far off from being able to start moving, get his muscles back into action. He will require physiotherapy to begin with, and then he will have to work at re-building his muscle mass, presuming he chooses to do so… might take him a long time, but I think being alive and able to do so is miracle enough”
“The damned Lizard will outlive us all…”
Ahhh, yes… it was his old friend Max… time to make himself known…
“..gax oo uzzy haced oukie….”
Well, that had definitely sounded better in HIS head… he was still trying to get used to whatever the hell the doc had done to his face… Gene chuckled, Max looked slightly bemused.
“He has had severe damage to his cranium and his jaw. His skull shattered when his head hit the deck, probably had become brittle due to the heat, then the bones got to the point of sort of melting and fusing together in a misshapen way. I will be able to do large scale corrections, but I need to wait until he is fully stable before looking at such invasive surgery. He said…”
“oh, I think I know what he said Doctor… seems his sense of humor has regrettably not been lost either. The lizard may have melted, but he still has a tongue on him.”
Max strode over and looked down on Logan, still lying there with his eyes closed.
“By the gods you are damned ugly my friend… enough to give a wookie nightmares..”
Logan made a rasping noise that both took as a laugh, then opened his eyes and stared at Max. He tried a smile, but with his mashed up face, he had no idea what it looked like… but speech was still a massive effort so he did not continue a conversation.
“Well, may be time to debrief him a bit on Pitch Black matters, what do you think doc? He be ok with that?”
“As ok as he will ever be to hear what he will have to hear… It may break his heart, but it wont break his body any more that it already is.”
Logan could see a look of profound sadness in Max’s eyes, not something he had seen before in the Wookies face, not to that extent… what was going on? Logan managed a shallow nod to Max, trying to urge him on and speak.
Max grabbed a nearby stool and dragged it over to Logans bedside. He took a deep, steadying breath and began. He started at what had been the end, or at least AN end.. the end of the Carlac war in which the AMC had risen battered and bruised, but victorious. He told Logan of the ongoing clean up operations, of how they found the Ardent and him.. of how he was the only survivor. Logan winced at that, and turned his face away from Max. Had his eyes been capable of it, Max was sure they would be filled with tears right now.
“Are you sure you want me to go on my friend, I am afraid it does not get any easier from here.”
Logan nodded his head just enough to be seen, but still could not turn and face the Wookie. Max continued, telling him of the fights that started breaking out, of the ships that started to go missing, of the rits… He went on and on with the bad news, trying to sweeten it a bit by telling him Adde was fighting even now to restore order and recover lost assets. But he also had to tell Logan of the divisions within the ranks and how they suspected the missing ships were stolen by some of those divided clans. His cities had all been lost, apart from the one on Comra as the local governments had seased the opportunity to sweep in and take over. His financial base was ruined.
When Max finished telling his tale of woe, there was a horrendous silence. The three sentients in the room all as silent as ghosts. It would have perhaps gone on forever, neither Gene nor Max daring to break it, knowing that Logan would need serious time to digest all of this. After all, Max had just told him that his hard fought for empire had crumbled to dust while he was incapacitated.
But Logan trrned to face Max. His face, a horribly distorted visage of what it once was now looked ten times worse as pure, unadulterated rage creased his features. Logan moved his hand, moved his arm, ignoring the fresh pain it ignited within him. He grasped Max’s arm and concentrated on trying to speak.
“..ey no I a’ive?”
“No Logan, you had already been reported dead twice, we dared not tell them you are alive until we knew you would be back, and fit to rule… false hope we thought would make things even worse… But perhaps now…”
Logan squeezed Max’s arm to stop him,
“no… ecret…”
“you want it kept a secret still?”
“ess…”
The look of rage was not subsiding, if anything it was getting worse and worse. It got to the point that Gene got up to separate the two, force Logan to take some rest, but before he could reach the conversing sentients, Logan spoke again.
“Sssen Caawi”
He tried so hard to pronounce the name clearly it came out as a growl
“Sen Cawi? Who is that, somebody you want me to contact?”
“Esss… Sen Caagi”
He shook his head, tried again.
“Caahi, Caafi, Caaavi, CAVI”
That last came out loud and with a deep growl.
“You want me to contact a Sen Cavi?”
“Essss”
Max nodded, promised he would do so and then gave in to Genes urging for him to leave so that Logan could rest. Gene had not expected so much angere, sorrow yes, but not anger… that was not good for a recovering patient.
|
|
|
Post by Logan Shivers on Feb 18, 2018 20:11:30 GMT
Caution
Max had left Logan with mixed emotions. Overjoyed at the survival of his long time friend and ally, but destought at the pain and anguish he was in from what had happened to him and his Consortium. He would findthis Sen Cavi and get him transported over. If it was going to help Logan it would be worth any expense.
Max assumed Adde would know who Sen was, but drew a blank there so started to search through Logans accessible comms records, nothing there either. He searched the Holonet and within seconds managed to trigger alarms within their network. That was strange… no sooner had he done this than his comms unit signalled an emergency call from the ISS. Max responded and found Ichiru on the other end of an encrypted link.
“Proconsul? What is your interest in Sen Cavi?”
“Greetings Ichiru. Straight to business as usual huh? Well, Logan has requested we contact him and bring him over, just trying to find out who he is to do that.”
“Logan is conscious and sound of mind?”
“Yes, but has requested his status is not released yet, I suspect he wants to deal with what is going on in Pitch Black and wants to be physically stronger before he gets out there.”
“Why would he have anything to do with Sen Cavi, and what would he want with him? He is on a watch list on almost every security service we are allied with, he is associated with a particularly nasty group of slavers.”
“Slavers? Are you sure? Logan knows we don’t accept the slave trade… what would he be doing getting into contact with him? Must be another Sen Cavi?”
“Proconsul, please find out. I would not be happy with us having anything to do with THAT Sen Cavi, the association only would be damaging to reputation and perhaps to some of our alliances.”
Max agreed and arranged to travel over to the med Neb Logan was on the very next day to find out more. He had a bad feeling though. He knew Logan well enough to believe he may just be crazy enough to deal with that sort of organisation… It would go against AMC ethical rules, but… well if he did not deal in slavery himself or within Pitch Black it would perhaps skirt those rules.
In the end it concerned him enough to get Ichiru to meet him in the room with Logan. The security specialist at the very least could help track down the person Logan was after, if it was not thet slaver. And if it was, he could be there to ask what questions he would about why Logan had this request. It was after all a matter that could affect the entire AMC and its allies from what Ichiru had said.
When Max arrived, he was somewhat surprised to find that Nimm was also therer, at the behest of Ichiru. He gave a questioning look and Ichiru responded to the question forming on his lips.
“If this could effect relations with allies, it would be of great benefit for Nimm to be involved from right now. He has been made aware of the security behind Logans status.”
“Makes sense I suppose. Ok, lets go find out what we can.”
On entry, they found Logan actually sitting upright in a supported chair. That was a massive improvement. He still had two drips feeding into him, but he seemed a lot more alert, more alive than he had just the day before. He still however, looked like a nightmare visage.
“Logan, good to see you up. I have been trying to find this Sen Cavi….”
Max was interrupted by a strange noise coming from Logan, his body shaking slightly. Initially alarmed, thinking he may be having some sort of fit, Max then realised Logan might be… laughing? Had he been playing some sort of joke on Max that he had yet to work out?
“Logan…”
But Logan interrupted by raising his hand. Gene walked across the room and handed Max a datapad.
“I think Logan suspected you may have questions he would struggle to answer due to his current speech impediment. He spent the last hour on this pad slowly inputting information. Asked me to hand it to you if he was asleep when you came.”
Max took hold of the pad and moved over so that he, Ichiru and Nimm could all read it with Logans consent. It read:
Yes Max, THAT Sen Cavi. Please trust in me. Arrange a secret meeting in DS, Sen knows how to be discreet and will be when you tell him I have asked for this. Bring who you want for security, ask Sen to bring none by my word.
That was it. A short message that had taken Logan a lot of effort it would appear to input. But it was clear enough and Max had a sense that this was very important to Logan. After discussion with Ichiru, it was agreed to contact the slaver as requested, and arrange a discreet meeting in a deep space location away from AMC space.
“Gene, could you arrange for Logan to be moved to a Sprint? ISS will provide a pilot, can you please attend to Logan and any other medical staff you require. Myself and Enox will accompany you. Shri will escort us with a Corona Carrier, and Ichiru will be meeting us in the location of the meeting in his ISS battle frigate. Nimm, would you travel with Ichiru?”
It was all agreed, and they left Logan who had a strange grimace on his face as they exited the room. That played on Max’s mind, had he offended Logan by arranging so much security for the meeting? If Max had only known that Logan had been grinning, or trying to. Because Logan knew just how weird this request had been, Logan knew what he was asking, and he knew that it would frustrate and confuse his friends and allies. But he had to take little pleasures like that for now, to keep him sane and calm. To stop the rage from overflowing. To stop the darkness from taking over.
|
|
|
Post by Logan Shivers on Feb 18, 2018 20:12:25 GMT
A meeting in deep space…
Sen Cavi was relaxing on his yacht. A luxuriously appointed J type 327 called the Slavers Girl. His office, a large central room within the ship was a vibrant red colour throughout, with battle scenes depicted in wall hanging rugs on each wall. The centre of the room was dominated by a massive black desk, large enough to cater for the Hutts generous proportions. Above it hung a lavish silver chandelier that had crystal shards dangling from it, throwing shimmering light across the room. The desk was embossed in silver leaf patterns to complement the chandelier above it.
In front of the desk two plush black leather couches could be found, for guests abd business meetings, and behind his desk, plain, black wooden seats for his house servants to sit on and wait his command.
Various ornaments stood on black marble plinths in the room, including one silver bust of a proud Trandoshan Warrior.
Sen was at his desk and was currently the rooms only occupant. He had just finished arranging the next operation when his comms panel signalled he had an incoming message. Sen checked out where it was coming from and his blood ran cold when he saw the source. This was not a contact he had ever thought would be made. He accepted the call with a nervous trepidation and as he expected, a Wookie faced him on his screen, his eyes showing the hatred the sentient felt towards him despite the attempt to hide it on his face.
“Greetings Sen Cavi. I am Proconsul of the Alliance of Mercenary Consortiums Max Ameeno Baca. I want to make it quite clear from the onset that this is a contact only made out of respect to one of my Generals and not one I would be making otherwise. Not unless it was to arrange your arrest.”
Sen was taken aback a little.. General? Well, that boy had done well if he was a General now. And he understood the Proconsuls position. That was not a surprise. Not if he was calling without full knowledge, without understanding….
“Greetings Proconsul Baca. I will not waste your time on fake pleasantries then. I assume the General you mention is one Logan Shivers?”
That seemed to catch the Wookie a little off guard. No, this one had no idea why he was asked to make contact… which could be a bad thing, a very bad thing. But… this was Logan so it could be just a not so good thing… perhaps?
“The General has requested we arrange a meeting with you personally. We have agreed that you will attend in a civilian ship and with no armed escort.”
The Hutt laughed out loud, a real belly laugh that shook him down to his stumpy tail end. He had not meant to but the sheer arrogance of the creature had surprised him and amused him.
“Proconsul, don’t misunderstand me or our little situation here. I am well aware of the power and reach of your Alliance, but I am also well aware of my capabilities and that of my bretherin. There is no way in this galaxy you would get this meeting to happen, under almost ANY conditions other than ones favourable to ME, if it were not for your General. I, we, have evaded the likes of the GE, the NR, Krath, Black Sun, even Hapes fleets. We are ghosts. BUT… it would appear that we have mutual respect for mr Shivers and so… I will agree to your… request. I ask only two questions. Is our mutual friend alive and well, and where is this meeting to take place?”
Max did not like this Hutt, not at all. He was full of himself, but what was even more infuriating was that Ichiru and the ISS were not able to track the signal. It was bouncing to so many places it was simply not possible to figure out which one Sen Cavi was in. That level of complex trickery was not a good sign.
“Logan is… alive and that is currently classified, but he said I should let you know. Coordinates are being sent to you for the meeting. We, will not be arriving without military power. You have been straight with me so I will be with you. I do not like the fact that Logan has some sort of relations with you or your…. Organisation. It concerns me and I will not promise to not arrest you or have you killed should this prove necessary. I hold no respect for you.”
Sen Cavi laughed again,
“Oh, but if you did, you could not be a person I would respect. Now there is a conundrum for you my good Wookie!! I think we could be best friends, a real love hate relationship!! Now, I have the location… I can be there in two days. Goodbye Mr Baca.”
The connection died. Ichiru and his agents pounded their desks in frustration, they had been so close to narrowing down the location… the Hutt clearly knew his stuff and cut the connection before they could get close.
Sen gave the cockpit the location and instructed them to make best speed. He was going to have a rest. He had a feeling the next couple of days would be long ones.
|
|
|
Post by Logan Shivers on Feb 25, 2018 16:25:53 GMT
On a gas giant somewhere….
“TERSEN”
The shout reverberated through the small floating city station. Lyric was not only a Gamorrean of large proportions, but one with a fog horn for a voice. He rarely had the patience to go and find anyone that was not easily contacteable at a push of a button, so he just bellowed and got their attention that way.
Sure enough, just a few minutes later Tersen walked into the office to see what the Overlord wanted.
“You screamed boss?”
“Sen is on his way to meet AMC leadership, not knowing why now, but guess trouble. Pass message, no more contracts until we know more. Close station down, make ready to leave quickly if we have to.”
To his credit Tersen did not hesitate or ask for more information. The Whiphid knew he was told either all there was to know, or all that he would be told. Same difference.
“Got near 50 slaves boss, what of them? No room to take in ship if we have to…”
Instead of responding, Lyric hurled a datapad over to Tersen, a broad grin on his toothy face. After study, Tersen nodded with an appreciative look on his face.
“Easy do boss, get the slaves on it.”
With no further frivolities, Tersen truned and left the office. He in turn hunted down Cora and Solan to give them instructions on what preparations were required. He then went and found Confessor Hadji, the master medic would want to ensure all his kit was ready and stowed so the lucky slaves would be spared any further torture sessions for now. Tersen thought it may be weird in the city without any screaming…
|
|
|
Post by Logan Shivers on Feb 27, 2018 17:01:18 GMT
Prefsbelt sector, deep space.
The AMC had in its inventory some very impressive ships. Some absolute behemoths. The problem with this, in this instance, was that these ships required huge crews. This made secrecy virtualy impossible. General Joshua Little had come up with the brilliant idea of staging war games in the area. This would mean that vast numbers of the AMC fleet would be in close vicinity, but would be too preoccupied with their given tasks to pay attention to a meeting taking place in their midst.
A standard precaution in any war game was to have a neutral area where a medical fleet would be stationed to deal with any emergencies. In this neutral location, the marshals for the war games would also be stationed. In this instance, the marshals were based on the Poseidon, a Lucrehulk class battleship that loomed over almost everything around it. With its cavernous hangar bays it was an ideal platform to have the marshals based on, enabling dozens of small, fast ships to flit in and out with spotters on and games masters who ensured that the war games were progressing as intended.
On this large ship, in a hangar bay that was currently empty, having been used to transport over a large number of satellites, sat a Sprint Class medical frigate. Inside the sprint, Logan, Max and Ichiru watched a large holoprojector image. It showed the entire deep space region with clear depictions of the various ships in the area. The two “sides” in the war games were defined using blue and yellow, the medical ships and the marshals ships as green.
The battling ships were quite mesmerising to watch as they maneuvered around, the two opposing fleets trying to out smart each other. Ichiru spotted the arrival of a new ship first. It had automatically been assigned a green colour in order that it was ignored by everyone, but its arrival did not go unnoticed by those who were looking for it. The luxury yacht was displaying the correct IFF details, as they had been instructed to.
The yacht made its way steadily through the multitude of ships, skirting thick clusters and fast moving ships, and eventually entered the neutral area. It slowed right down as it approached the Poseidon, its pilot waiting for instructions to proceed.
“Slavers Girl, this is Poseidon control. Please approach using vector 13.1.22 and enter hangar bay 6”
General Enox was on the bridge, monitoring the war games, but his presence there had more than one purpose. Upon spotting the incoming yacht, he had issued instructions to the comms operator on desk 1 to send to the Slavers Girl. The instruction had been discreet amongst the tumult of the bridge and went by unremarked upon by anyone else. That particular comms agent was an ISS agent, the same one that had accompanied the landing party on the stricken Ardent where Logan had been rescued from.
Minutes later the yacht gently touched its skids down inside the hangar bay, placing itself next to the Sprint. As it went through the shut down procedure, its ramp lowered with a quiet hiss and settled on the deck.
Logan had insisted that they go inside the yacht to hold their meeting, reasoning that there was little that could be done to endanger them under the circumstances and it would be more comfortable than the clinical sprint, or the empty hangar bay.
Max, Ichiru and Logan, assisted by Gene as he was barely able to walk under his own power yet, made their way slowly towards the entry ramp. The pace was purely for Logans benefit, not some sort of trepidation or regal bearing. By the time they reached the ramp two Chiss females had appeared, wearing what appeared to be some sort of smart suits? This caused Ichiru and Max to exchange glances, they had both expected some sort of scantily clad slaves to be greeting them in order to “impress” them. Perhaps this Sen creature had a modicum of common sense.
“Greetings to you all, Negotiator Cavi welcomes you aboard, Proconsul Baca, Director Hanabusa, Apothecary Sackins and…”
The Chiss female on the left took a closer study of Logan, apparently trying to figure out who that may be. Max had to admit to being a little concerned that Ichiru of all of them had been so easily recognised. The Chiss suddenly became very pale.
“General Shivers?”
When Logan nodded weakly, the second Chiss also went pale, she excused herself and rushed back up the ramp. That reaction confused Max, and, it would appear, Ichiru as both looked at each other with confusion. That appeared to be fear? They could come all this way into what was essentially hostile territory without batting an eye lid, but face to face with a crippled Trandoshan and they suddenly went all pale and scared? The remaining female hostess composed herself and beconed them to come on up the ramp.
“Please, come on up, I will escort you to the Negotiators office, he awaits you there.”
They followed her at their own pace and took the time to take in the overly opulent surroundings. All of them were more accustomed to the start, functional surroundings of their trade, either clinical medical areas, or undecorated warships. Even the Directors offices had no grand opulence such as this, not unless a particular situation called for it anyway. The thick carpet felt to Max like he was walking on thick moss, it was undeniably pleasant and he almost wished he did nt have his boots on so he could curl his toes into the thickness of it! All along the corridor walls were alcoves with what appeared to be priceless artefacts on display. Each doorway was ornamented by gold carvings and the walls were painted a deep, rich red that should have been agitating to look at but in the context of it all, was actually strangely calming. They finally approached a larger double door and to their amazement realised it was actually made of wood?! It was carved in amazing detail showing what appeared to be the capturing of slaves. A topic that not one of them agreed with, but none could dispute the artistry in the carving and the image displayed there.
The doors swung open and Max spotted the Chiss female who had scarpered off standing next to a Hutt, presumably Negotiator Cavi. The creature took them all in with his large eyes and when they scanned over Logan a look of pained despair came over his face. The large creature made his way towards Logan and gently but firmly pushed Gene away. He took Logans arm and… bowed to him?
It was hard to tell if that was what it was, after all Hutts were not the most flexible of creatures but it certainly looked like a bow.
“Grand Master, what has happened, what have they done to you?”
Logan was now able to speak more or less without impediment although it still pained him as he was still very much in the process of healing from multiple operations as well as the original injuries themselves.
“The fact you are able to recognise me speaks for Gene’s skills in saving me. I need a seat Sen, still not strong.”
Sen Cavi almost carried Logn to a nearby sofa and only once he was certain that he was comfortable did he turn his attention to the others.
“Please, make yourselves comfortable. I suspect there is a lot to tell on both sides and we may be herer a while.”
The Hutt made his way to his own oversized seat, a lounger that could accommodate his bulk comfortably. He beckoned to his staff/servants.
“Ladies, please, refreshments, anything our guests want.”
There was a bit of an uncomfortable silence in the room as the AMC leaders struggled with the idea of ordering anything from slaves, Gene found himself battling his own ethics as a doctor and Sen watched calmly waiting for them to act. Logan broke the tension.
“Slavikan marsh vein juice.”
He knew Gene would kick up a huge fuss if he ordered anything overly strong to drink, so he went with an old favourite, a mild drink made out of an obscure vine plant that grew in a marsh close to his tribal grounds on Trandosha. It was naturally infused with both stimulants and sedatives, giving it quite a balanced effect on the drinker. He did not doubt that Sen would hold a stock, just in case. It was also a very potent drug if distilled, removing the sedative effect and could be used to cause horrific hallucinations onto any unsuspecting victim. The distilled sedative being the only counter to this and so could be held as a blackmail tool.
“Sen, tell them all. Things will go easier. You must bring in protocol 13, I have not had the energy to tell them yet.”
The effort of just that much speech had visibly tired Logan, so it was no surprise to Sen to hear that his companions had been kept in the dark. It was after all a matter that needed proper explanations, made clearly. Sen could not however keep the shock from his face when Logan mentioned protocol 13.
“13 huh? Oh dear, things must be bad… I hate to admit it but I was almost becoming accustomed to this lifestyle, might be hard to shake so many years of opulence! I assume this begins here and now?”
Logan nodded. The change in the room was almost instant. The Chiss females suddenly no longer looked like meek mild mannered servant girls, the four other sentients in the rear that had looked like oppressed slaves awaiting their masters command straightened their backs and stood tall. Max noted with alarm that from somewhere, he had no idea how, but all now seemed armed with force pikes and stood more like sentries or guards than as serevants! He and Ichiru both began to stand in alarm, but Logan and Sen waved them to sit and calm down. Sen spoke first,
“Leave us, you all have tasks, you know what to do.”
The armed sentients left the room, closing the large wooden door behind them.
“Anyone mind telling me what this protocol is all about and what exactly is going on?”
Ichiru had remained alert. It was in his nature, he could see a well practiced drill when he saw one. Logan motioned for Sen to carry on.
“Before I can explain the protocol Director, I will need to first explain a few other things. As you may be aware by your reactions towards me, the Bone Collectors has been a collection of rather violent sentients that have developed a strong reputation amongst slavers, pirates and the galactic underworld in general. The conception of this gang, for lack of a better description, was nearly eight years ago, when Logan first had dealings with a rather loud Abyssin known as Boomer, I assume you may have heard of him?”
Max nodded, Ichiru filled in some details that he recalled from his intel files.
“Leader of the Byss Liberation Army, has been working to free his planet from the GE for decades, has so far evaded capture and continues to frustrate the GE in his efforts through sabotage and the like.”
Sen nodded.
“Yes, the very man. Well, as you may also be aware, Logan is a bit of a fan of having redundancies and contingencies in place. The only way he could put together a group as powerfull as Pitch Black, and keep it together, was to ensure that he had backup support readily available. Controling a band of Trandoshans that large, without it reducing to a rabble of clans in fighting for control was a task not easily done, and Logan faced challenges on a daily basis from leaders wishing to take over his powerful group of hunters. Logan had to have a way of feeding in loyal sentients that would be his to the end. In the back stabbing world of the T’doshok, nobody lasts long at the top of the ladder… unless they are prepared.”
Sen passed over two datapads, one to Max and one to Ichiru. Apologising to Gene as he did not have a third.
“A profile of the leadership of the Bone Collectors, but not as you may know it.”
Both sentients began to study the profiles and instantly noticed the single common factor. Every single one had begun life enslaved!
“I would also point out that Master Solan is the younges son of Boomer, and Lyric is the brother to Quia who I also believe you will be familiar with.”
The pained look that crossed all their faces when he mentioned Quia saddened Sen.
“Quia is dead my friend.”
Sen heard the pain in Logans voice. He took a moment to compose himself.
“I will not look forward to telling Lyric.”
Max noted another common factor. Every single one of the leadership had been freed from slavery by Logan himself?! That lizard did have a habit of keeping himself overly busy… but then, why had they formed a slavers gang?
“The Bone Collectors were formed by Logan, a secret group battling against slavery. And how to better hide it? Well, by making it appear to be a much hated slavers gang. Not an easy task, as it would have to involve dealing in slavery or it would simply not pass… but Logan and Boomer between them hatched a plan like no other. The Bone Collectors dealt in slavers, not slaves. Every single member of the collectors is a freed slave, it is the only way to become a member. It brings with it the sort of loyalty that cannot be bought. You may or may not know of our trademark amongst slavers. Any slave we sell on will have lost their tongue. This is obviously easily replaceable if you wish to spend the credits to remedy such an ailment, but those who purchase slaves are not interested in paying out for such things, not for a slave. They buy the slaves BECAUSE they cant talk. This is mainly to stop them constantly trying to tell people that they were once slavers etc, we doubt they would have been believed, nobody sees a slave as anything more than a slave, and such claims would only likely be met with disdain, but it was something we wanted to avoid anyway. This was obviously backed up with some rather inventive torture session to break them mentally. The scars these sessions left would also make the slavers unrecognisable to former associates. You see, we built up a network of contacts and would deal in real slaves for a while, setting them free as soon as we could do so securely and in the knowledge that they would be able to survive in the galaxy unfettered. We would then set up a sale for high value slaves that could be trained to fight, powerfull and strong sentients. The trade would be done in deep space and inevitably go very wrong for the slavers. We would pounce, capturing the slavers and releasing the slaves there and then. They would be given options to either apply for vetting to join our group, or would be left on a planet of their choice to return to friends or family. The price on their head would be the amount given to each from the coffers of the captures slavers.”
Both Max and Ichiru were looking somewhat stunned, and Ichiru needed more convincing.
“And you are telling me that all these attacks against slavers went unnoticed, nobody questioned that anyone dealing with you eventually vanished?”
“Ah, well, we did have to let some go, some smaller slavers that were of smaller influence. But the jewel in all of this is that because the BLA could be called upon, THEY did the attacking, in their clearly recognisable sky blue ships, they have a known vendetta against slavers, and it is not after all unheard of for slavers to be attacked is it?”
That appeared to satisfy Ichiru a little.
“We will need evidence to support this claim… Logan may be a respected member of this Consortium, and as he has not disputed any of this I am willing to believe it all, but… we have alliances that will not hold if we are found to be dealing with slavers… and they will require proof.”
“This is where Protocol 13 will help. Logan has essentially ordered that we disband, we destroy all that is left of the Collectors, and come to his side as his personal guard. As thee Collectors is officially no longer in existance, or soon wont be, letting you have access to our records so you may take your own evidence is of no consequence. The data pads you hold contain access codes to every system on this ship. As this ship was our main platform of operations when dealing with slavers, it is well stocked with interesting information you may like. It is also directly linked to our base, however less than 20 hours from now that base will no longer exist so I recommend you get what information you will before that time. Your ISS can have free access to this ship for that timie period. After that, I must insist that we depart, with Logan on board.”
Max and Ichiru both wanted to voice a protest, but Logan was nodding his agreement.
“My existence has to remain a secret, cannot stay like that for long here. I have to leave while I sort out what I have to.”
“And if you are worried about security, the sole purpose of the Collectors existing is to provide dangerous individuals with absolute and unfaltering loyalty to Logan. This brings me to a point I wanted to bring up… there were several ex Collectors in your senior staff…”
Logan winced, the pain in his face not physical but emotional. He shook his head sadly. Ichiru spoke up though, having been studying the datapad furiously.
“All named in your records have regretfully been confirmed KIA, apart from one, who is MIA and has been since the battle of Carlac. A Diathim female by the name Voba Wevfel.”
Sen nodded in recognition.
“If that one is still alive, she is either trying to make her way to the Collectors base, or hiding around trying to find Logan. Such devestation to have all those souls die… I am sure time will reveal the full tale to us all. I assume you have remained “dead” in order to conduct your own inestigations into what has occurred Logan?”
Sen had been told some of what had occurred to Pitch Black after the battle of Carlac, he did not have to be a genius to figure out why. When Logan nodded affirmative Sen returned to the others.
“So we are agreed on Logan leaving with us.”
That did make sense, but Gene was not happy.
“Logan is not yet ready to leave without medical assistance at his side, he…”
Sen interrupted,
“You may leave us strict directions on his care to last one day. That will be how long it will take to join up with the Collectors. At that point Confessor Hadji will take over Logans treatment. You are welcome to join us of course Apothecary, you can then leave when you feel it is safe to do so?”
Gene declined.
“24 hours will not be a problem and I am well aware of Hadji Falconer’s talents. He was one of the most respected surgeons of his people, and the Dug are amongst the best at what they do. His abduction six years ago had something to do with you I presume?”
“Not teally, we just benefitted. He was taken by pirates who wanted, or needed medical staff. He was forced to work as a slave medic for a while until we came along. He owes Logan a particular debt as his wife had been helf hostage for his good behaviour, and Logan managed to get her free whilst we did our thing with the pirates.”
The conversations went on for many hours, ISS agents had been called in discretely and were combing through the ships systems and Logan lay on the comfortable sofa in a semi-conscious daze. The day had tired him and he was happy to just relax and doze off, leaving his trusted friends, now more at ease with each other, to do their thing and get organised.
|
|
|
Post by Logan Shivers on Mar 4, 2018 13:41:47 GMT
On a gas giant…..
“TERSEN, GET THE COMMAND IN HERE.”
Yet again Lyric used his earthquake inducing voice rather than get up and go and find his second in command. Well, being the size of a mountain, he would probably move as little as possible too if that were him Tersen mused. He found it interesting that this time, it was not just him, but all the command structure Lyric wanted, this would be it then, whatever was going down, it was time.
Less than ten minutes after Lyric had bellowed, Tersen, Hadji, Cora and Solan were all crammed into the not so spacious office. Lyric did not wait for them to get comfortable, or even to fully close the door. He threw them each a datapad and in a tone that made it clear there would be no discussion he ammounced.
“Protocol 13, orders on datapad, get moving.”
They all looked grim, that was the last thing any of them wanted to hear as it meant their liege, their true Lord was either in trouble, or dead. Hadji eased their worries though as he read through his datapad. He made an odd whistling noise,
“It is a miracle Mr Shivers survived, it is a credit to him and to the medical skills of the AMC Apothecary. I will need to have most, no, all of my kit transported.”
“Corona frigate on way, you get crated, will move all”
Confirming he was alive appeased them all, made it that much easier to go about the tasks they had to go about. As for the Corona Lyric had mentioned.. If this was coming in, it meant that the BLA was on their way to “destroy the evil slavers”, as their frigate was permanently stationed with the BLA, running under their colours.
Two hours later, and the frantic activity on the small floating city had calmed considerably. The Crusader class Corvette, the Necropyre, had bee loaded, the remainder of the crated gear was on the small landing pad, ready for collection and the majority of the Collectors troops were lined up In rank by the side of the ship. The only noise came from the mutterings and moanings of the slaves, who were currently chained hand and foot to the stabiliser wing of the Necropyre. The last few Collectors came out from a nearby building that housed an elevator and, escorted by Cora and Solan, they hauled the bulk of a large Hutt, a skeletal Gamorrean, two Defel and a Devaronian. The five creatures were barely conscious.
They had been the leaders of slaver gangs, evil individuals that could not be released back into the world, but instead had been subjected to constant cycles of torture and healing, to give them a taste of what subjects under them had felt like when used as slaves. The Hutt had only been a recent addition, Hadji and his confessor team had not had the time to really get him going, which was a bit of a shame Tersen thought. A special place had been reserved for them and one by one, they were attached to the nose of the large ship. Once the task was done, the troops, Cora and Solan joined the rest in rank. Lyric stepped out of the hangar and faced the gathered sentients.
“We are done. BLA here in hour. Been good, now we do real job. Sen meet us tomorrow with Commander Shivers. Tersen, you tell scum what happens.”
Tersen smiled a nasty, toothy grin. He spoke up in a loud, clear voice.
“SCUM, listen up boys and girls. Collectors are going out of business, so you are all in with a bit of luck. We gonna let you go free, not want you no more you see! Got no room on ship though.. so holds your breaths, you coming along for a nice ride!!”
Slowly, the horror of what Tersen had just implied hit them one by one. The somewhat docile slaves began to scream and shout and fight agaist their shackles. The sound of their agonising brought a smile to Tersens face that was even more genuine and even broader than his original smile. There was a part of him that would miss this life, a small part, but it was there.
All but a few had boarded and settled themselves on the Necropyre by the time the looming shadows of “Slavers Demise”, the Corona Frigate running under BLA colours, made their presence felt. It was escorted by a much smaller shadown, that turned out to Hadji’s delight to be a Sprint Class medical ship which made its way down to the landing pad. All of the Master Confessors delicate equipment was carefully loaded into the two medical rooms on board and Hadji and his team got settled into what was likely to be their new base of operations for a while.
Once the Sprint had taken off, a DX-9 dropship took its place on the landing pad and the remaining crates and personell loaded onto that in quick order. It wasted no time in taking off and returning to the Slavers Demise, leaving Lyric and Tersen alone on the landing pad. Tersen looked around at the now abandoned city they had called home for so long.
“Gonna miss the place”
Lyric nodded,
“Was like new home. Wont miss stink”
Tersen had to agree, although the atmospheric filters did a good job of making the air breathable on the floating city station, they did nothing to remove the horrendous stink of the gas giants more pungent gasses. It was a smell you could never get used to as it constantly changed, but never improved.
Ignoring the screams and pleadings of the slaves chained to the ship, Lyric boarded the Necropyre. Tersen followed, but could not resist going past the five ex-slavers at the very front of the ship.
“Enjoy the view, we go nice and slow up, let you watch city blow up.”
He smiled as he let their cries for mercy wash over him, well, he assumed that is what they were, seeing as none of them had tongues… they sounded desparate though, so that was good enough. These scum had provided lifetimes of misery for so many like him, he could find no pity in him for their current predicament. He knew that once the ship left the protective bubble of the city’s atmospheric shield, they would be either slowly burnt or melted to death by the corrosive gasses of the giant, or slowly poisoned, or both, depending on what mix of gasses swirled past. Tersen cast them a last, wide smile and made his way into the ship, the boarding ramp hissing shut behind him, shutting off the noise of their screaming and yelling.
By the time he had joined Lyric on the bridge, they had lifted off and were slowly edging back from the city station. Once clear, the Slavers Demise opened fire on their once home. For good measure, the Necropyre added its own firepower to the mix and it was not long before the city sunk down into the depths of the gas giant in a shattered mess. There, it would get crushed beyond recognition by the immense gravitational forces long before it hit the core.
Outside, on the Necropyres hull, close to 50 sentients silently screamed as their flesh was turned to a liquid mush and sluffed away by the corrosive gasses of the planet. The gods had provided an oxygen rich vein of gasses so they also remained alive to feel that exquisite pain, until one by one, they finally died. The Hutt was the last to die, having much more flesh to burn than the rest. But eventually too his dying thrashes ended.
By the time the Necropyre had come out of the gas giants embrace, all that was left on the ship was a collection of bones at attached to the ship by chains, and some rather distinct bloody splatters. In time, those might disappear, but nobody would actually make any effort to clean the ship of its goory markings. They would be left there for all to see, for all to wonder about and for all to fear.
|
|
|
Post by Logan Shivers on Mar 20, 2018 11:02:22 GMT
A Crusie amongst the stars.
The Slavers Girl gently took her weight off the skids and was barely out of the hangar bay and Sen was straight to business.
“With the news of the Collectors demise sure to spread amongst the underworld, I have already taken steps to distance myself. I now work for a new employer who is interested in purchasing top spec military ships at rock bottom prices with little or no audit trail. Ships that have been… unfortunately misplaced by their previous owners. Using my network I have to report great success already.”
He handed Logan a datapad before continuing.
“I am certain that the Stike is the missing Black Dragon, I also believe the two crusaders, the Corona, the Arquittens and the small hoard of Aggressors are all Pitch Black property. I have taken the liberty of prioritising the Strike and arranged a meeting with the seller. I have put word out to all the rest as well and will arrange meetings as soon as I hear back. The Bone Collectors are due to meet us in deep space in just under 36 hours. Hadji is already setting up his kit and studying your case so that he can work his magic. The Collectors are ready to take this on. How would you like to run the operations?”
Logan had to admit surprise. He knew Sen was good, that is why he was in that role, but he did not realise he was THIS good. Logan had really thought that most of his ships would be lost amongst the stars… And, Sen had found the Black Dragon…. That in itself was a miracle. She had been the first ship to vanish, taken over by a clan of T’doshok who’s chief had tried several times to depose Logan, each time failing miserably. Logan would enjoy catching up with this lot of back stabbing, treacherous kin.
“Setting up the sale is your role my friend, let me know the time and location, and then that becomes my role. For now… this ruined body of mine needs rest.”
Sen immediately escorted Logan to a stateroom near the front of the luxury yacht. As they entered the oversized lounge room Logan stopped dead in his tracks. Theroom was made to feel somewhat smaller than it was by the presence of eight Destroyer droids!! Sen pulled the sort of face that showed apologetic, but only through masking amusement.
“That Max fellow…. He sort of insisted, a gift he said… and keyed in to you. You have yourself a new bodyguard…”
Logan did not like droids… the thought of eight of these things becoming his shadow…
“No, get the damned tin cans out of my sight, pack them in crates.”
Sen winced, a slightly more apologetic look on his face.
“Cant sir…made a deal.. besides, these things will only listen to you..”
“Tin cans, leave my quarters and store yourselves in the hold, do not return unless called for.”
Nothing.. Logan looked at Sen, the question evident in his somewhat lopsided expressional face.
“Sorry Logan, will only follow commands providing they tie in with their primary function, to be your guard.”
“I will take his hide and turn it into a gods damned sofa!! He knows I hate these damned things”
The strains of the past few months all spilled out then in a complete and utter rage, a torrent of curses and abuse about everyone and everything, culminating in Logan attacking one of the droids with his bare hands… Once he had calmed down, his rage spent, Sen dared to re-enter the room having made a tactical retreat when the rage began. Logan was sat on a seat nursing his hands muttering curses about tin cans and his own body giving up on him. Sen saw the hidden mental torment and anguish in Logans eyes then… the strong leader of theirs was not completely unshakeable then. That was comforting in a way.
“Get some rest Logan. Just ignore the machines, they are under orders to stay out of your way and stay quiet unless you command otherwise.. Hadji will be meeting us very soon, and you may like what he has planned… I will come and get you when we arrive at our meeting point.”
Logan nodded, feeling deflated.
“keep me informed on any other ships you locate, and plans to get them back.”
As the outer door slid shut with a quiet hiss, Logan made his way to the oversized bed in the other room, thankfully no droids here, and collapsed into it, allowing the satisfying darkness of sleep to take over.
|
|