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Open Space and Asteroid Field


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Post Thu Oct 14, 2010 2:51 pm

Open Space and Asteroid Field

*This is the open space and deadly asteroid field that surrounds the Smuggler's Run. Only pilots of extreme skill and luck are able to make it through the large field*
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Post Fri Oct 15, 2010 11:03 am

Re: Open Space and Asteroid Field

*As silently as the asteroids floating in space, a single Munificent-class star frigate dropped out of hyperspace, followed shortly by an escort of XJ7 X-wing Starfighters. The captain of the frigate, a large human male going by the name of Kartuul, moved towards the forward viewport to get a better view of the asteroid field. His eyes searched the field of floating mountains, wondering exactly how much resistance they would get, if any.*

*he asked expectantly, not bothering to look at his officers manning the equipment.*

*To his right, Staff Officer Trent Burgem, in charge of sensor data and communications, looked up from his spot behind a subordinate.*


*Kartuul continued to stare out into the open expanse, a grin forming on his lips.*


*With that said, the Captain signaled one of the other officers to get him and himself a stimulant from the kitchen. Now, the waiting began.*

*Melric watched as the 'Black Dagger' cautiously moved closer to one of the nearby asteroids. Boosting power to his engines, he brought his starfighter to a speed that matched the frigate. Glancing downwards, he noticed his squadron was neatly in formation behind him. Checking to make sure his communications encryption was on, he activated his headset with his jaw.*


*After a quick series of each pilot calling out their number, Melric activated his headset again.*



*The sweet female voice of the 2nd Flight Leader Nunia Zarerre came over the comm.*



*Knowing that acknowledging that response would be redundant, Wolfrus breaks off from it's parallel flight pattern with the 'Black Dagger' and pulls into the asteroid field, his squad tight at his side. As soon as they were in, the group split into three groups of four, fanning out. They then split into pairs, with each one finding a steady rock to hide behind. Now, they would wait for the call, watching out for stray asteroids as they did so.


Rayfe Bentro glanced over at his platoon from his spot on the catwalk. A majority of them were hanging around the AIAT/i, cleaning their weapons and checking their gear. The rest were finishing up with the donning of their light combat armor. Either way, he knew that his platoon would be ready when the time came. He was about to let his muscles relax when a hand came down on his shoulder, jerking his attention from the commandos below to the familiar face of one of his men. He couldn't help but crack a smile.*




*The hard-faced man grinned, making his face wrinkle.*



*Bentro looked back on his squads, sighing slightly as he did.*

*Rholar noticed Bentro's posture and the fact that he had something on his mind. Leaning on the railing, he looked down to see the rest of the soldiers join the platoon, taking up their weapons to clean them out.*



*Bentro continued to stare down into the hanger, nodding his head slightly to Rholar's question. It took him a couple seconds, but he was finally able to straighten his thoughts into a single answer.*




*With that out of the way, the two men simply continued to lean on the railing in silence, knowing that the only option they had left was to wait for the green light to move out...*
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Post Tue Oct 19, 2010 3:04 pm

Re: Open Space and Asteroid Field

*It had been nineteen hours. Nineteen hours in hyperspace, with time for talk, sleep, and food. Truth be told, it had been good for all of them. Fel was rested, and wearing clean clothes for the first time in... who knew? He was shaved and his belly was full. All good things when arriving at the 'Run... because the next ten minutes were going to be some of the most taxing flying any pilot could imagine.

Cutting in the sublight engines, The 'Millenium Eagle' (by the three suns, he couldn't wait to get back home to the UA...) pulled back into real-space, and a massive asteroid, hurtling toward the flight deck, came sharply into focus. Fel hauled the stick to Starboard, and then back to Port, seesawing the craft around the boulders. He looked across at Myranda Ghomesz as he laid in the coordinates of Skip One, and hammered on the throttle to bring the craft up to fighting speed, where she was least sluggish, and better able to dodge the larger rock shards.

Myranda, meanwhile, fired the fore cannons at smaller targets, vaporising them or altering their course enough to move them aside as Fel twisted and churned through the dense debris. It was like driving a school bus through a snowstorm and trying to miss every flake.

Myranda shot, and neatly split a house-sized boulder into three chunks, one of which stayed its course (those were the chances when you flew the 'Run...) Seeing the obstacle at the last second, Fel pulled the ship inverted, and the dense rock literally scraped past the superstructure. The pilot let out a breath he seemed to have been holding for minutes on end.*


Luck.

*The ride was box-car rough, almost as bad as being in a dogfight, and Fel had worked up a sweat, even with his capable co-pilot manning the guns and the aux. systems. He couldn't help bu think of Wrench and Malora, and hoped aloud that they were faring as well, or better.

Finally, after an eternity, the scope showed their destination as only a few thousand kilometers distant...*


Just a minute now... stay sharp...
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Post Wed Oct 20, 2010 12:00 am

Re: Open Space and Asteroid Field

*Jace stepped into the cockpit as Fel began the trek through the asteroid field. He was completely refreshed, having nineteen hours to sleep, bath, eat, and meditate. Unfortunately, he had not discovered any answers in the Force, although that was expected this time around. He felt as though the only way to uncover the answers here was patience and time. With a set of fresh clothes on, he took an available seat in the cockpit. Knowing that the inertial dampeners may not be able to fully compensate for the hard turns, he found himself strapping in to brace himself for the rough journey.

As they passed through the asteroid field, he found himself relatively at ease. He had confidence in Fel's ability to maneuver through the debris in the freighter, as he could see the apparent skills in the man's efforts. Jace wondered how well he could handle a freighter like this one through the current obstacles. He knew that he could get through in his fighter with no problems, but it would take some practice if he was ever going to attempt such a journey in this heap of metals.

Once he felt that they had hit a calm spot, he quickly glanced over the controls. He had noticed that Fel was working with a single set of coordinates, which he had been moving towards as if it was his compass for getting through the deadly shield of rocks.*
"So, where do those coordinates lead us?"*He looked to Fel, hoping he would answer his question fully. The more information he gathered about the Smuggler's Run, the better. Not only for his own knowledge, but also for his forces sitting in wait. And as a side-note, he was the leader of an intelligence gathering organization, so it would only make sense for him to get this information regardless.*
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Post Thu Oct 21, 2010 3:30 am

Re: Open Space and Asteroid Field

YT-1300 stocklight freighter, Millennium Eagle - Cockpit

Myranda barely had time to register Jace's presence in the cockpit as she focussed on keeping the ship in one piece, while Galdaart tried to fly them through the nightmare that was the entrance to the Smuggler's Run. The Skips were massive asteroids where the smugglers hid out. At this point in time, the soldier had chosen to rely less on the Force and more on her wits. Having transfered over control of all the weapons on board the Eagle to her console, Myranda had her hands full keeping an eye on all parts of the ship, wary of moving debris coming straight for them.

And there was plenty of that.

"Transferring all power to the forward shields..." she announces, "...there's magnetized rocks out there, and they'll flock to us like mynocks in heat."

Just moments after declaring that, one of her monitors beeps a collision warning. Coming from the port side, a large asteroid, about the size of a TIE Fighter, came hurtling towards the Eagle. She turns both the quad-blaster turrets on the asteroid and fires a hail of lasers, cutting the large rock to ribbons and harmless pieces which flew through the vessel. Right after that, another asteroid, this one far larger, about the same size as the Eagle itself came charging up, spinning almost lazily in space, but on a direct course for the ship. For this one, Myranda didn't spare the warheads, and fired a concussion missile in tandem with a proton torpedo. The follow up blasters and autoblasters took care of the rest of the rock, forever ending it as a credible threat to the ship's health.

"We're doing slightly better than last time with the Eagle..." she turned and smiles sheepishly at Galdaart, "...this wasn't our first ship. There was nothing left of the last one..."

Post Thu Oct 21, 2010 5:13 pm

Re: Open Space and Asteroid Field

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

*Cornelius uttered that phrase again as he pulled hard on the controls, sending the Exodus Flight into a almost ninety-degree climb. The asteroid he had been trying to avoid drifted past, eliciting a wince when he head a light "ping" from the underside again. Seeing it was a rather clearer patch right now, he took the second it gave him to adjust power from the weapons to reinforce the shields, then checked his information again. The ship's console beeped as it brought up the document, and he looked at the picture it gave him again. The old thing took a moment to load, which he attributed to years of use. This thing had been bought at a discount, and was in rather poor shape. Some of the escape pods were supposed to be damaged but still usable, while the sensors were garbage. Still, it did the job, and soon he had a few photos of Skip 1 with some text in between.

Due to the nature of Smuggler's Run, he obviously hadn't been given a map, but rather general directions. He was to look for a large asteroid, which was distinguished by others by the fact it had been colonized. It had docking facilities, cantinas, gambling, the whole thing. It had cost Cornelius a pretty penny for this information, even more had it cost him in hygiene to enter some of the shadier cantinas on Yanibar. Really, what was it about dirt that attracted the criminal element? Still, he could write that off for how much closer he got to being in a position to complete what he had set out to do.

The way he saw things, his upbringing was not really that conducive to helping him find areas that needed help. To be completely honest, he had fully realized this only when searching for someone who knew about Smuggler's Run. The criminal element associated the closest with the downtrodden and the weak, and often had connections to their oppressors. So the best way to help the weak, Cornelius had rationalized, was to join up with smugglers, who supplied the crime bosses and revolutionaries around the galaxy. If he could get into a crew, he could keep an ear to any deliveries they made, and help out as he could. Also, there was that childish idealization of smuggling, of adventure and danger, that attracted him as well.

But none of that would come to fruition if he was smashed to pieces against the asteroid that was fast approaching. So, putting his thoughts aside for a moment, he pushed hard on the controls, passing through on the lower left of that one, then the pulling in the opposite direction to dodge it's twin. Cornelius flicked his sweaty hair out of his eyes as he stressed his piloting skills and drew on the Force to keep him from a rather swift, painful, and fiery death. He didn't even try to imagine what it would be like for people without the Force aiding them. He had the advantage of a second's warning and guidance, they had the advantage of skill and talent. Still, they at this point both shared Lady Luck's favor.

Corny saw a flash of electric blue in between two asteroids, which he had the distinct feeling was part of a drawing rather inappropriate for his age. With a smile he pulled the ship in that direction. Skip 1 was right in his hands! He was still smiling as his engines were sheered off by the asteroids, his cockpit and most of the ship otherwise intact. They made a terrifying screeching sound, which he supposed was better then a swift "fwoosh" followed by silence. He felt a rush of air, then the blast doors shut closed, and he was plunged into a hell-hole of beeps and alarms. So much for luck.

His eyes widened three sized as he started frantically doing anything he knew to slow his speeding descent towards Skip 1. He flicked the engines power up to max, then was informed of his idiocy as the computer processed an error message. His landing jets could barely steer him left or right, and marginally up and down, so weren't of much use in slowing the speeding freighter. Cornelius pushed the fear rather ineffectively from his mind, then looked at the escape pods. He had two remaining, though one of them had broken propulsion and launch systems.

With a flash of insight that was unfortunately only common during situations such as this, Cornelius took a guess at what to do. He flared the landing jets to max, taking him on a course that would almost kiss the landing pad he had decided to aim for. He felt in the Force for a second to clear his mind, then checked his calculations again. It was about 50/50 that it would smash into a nearby building, which seemed from a distance that was getting alarmingly small to be a hotel, but he would almost certainly survive. Cursing his conscience, he scaled the jets again, giving him a greater amount of room between the landing pad and ship, and a almost nil chance of hitting anything besides another asteroid, then took off sprinting for the broken escape pod, grabbing his coat on the way.

He had precious few seconds to waste, so he would have to rely on the rations, clothes, and other supplies in the escape pod until he found somewhere else. Luckily he kept his creditchip and his weapons on him, so he would be fine unless he was mugged by some hyper-efficient thugs. He laughed, realizing he was already assuming he was going to live, then slapped open the escape pod. The blast doors sounded close behind him, and Cornelius looked out the view port. This was going to be interesting, to say the slightest.*
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Post Thu Oct 21, 2010 9:05 pm

Re: Open Space and Asteroid Field

[quote="Galdaart Fel":1wsmljaj][narration:1wsmljaj]The ride was box-car rough, almost as bad as being in a dogfight, and Fel had worked up a sweat, even with his capable co-pilot manning the guns and the aux. systems. He couldn't help bu think of Wrench and Malora, and hoped aloud that they were faring as well, or better.

Finally, after an eternity, the scope showed their destination as only a few thousand kilometers distant...[/narration:1wsmljaj][/quote:1wsmljaj]

[b:1wsmljaj]YT-1300 light freighter, [i:1wsmljaj]The Millennium Eagle[/i:1wsmljaj] - Common Area/Galley[/b:1wsmljaj]

[npc name=Dax:1wsmljaj][action:1wsmljaj]The Rodian looks over at Mack, an incredulous look on his bug-eyed face as he looks at the slumbering human and wonders how the man can sleep through the stomach wrenching manuevers the Eagle is currently going through as it makes it's way through the asteroid field, that, and the sounds of firing that accompany the ride, Dax thinks, should have woken any normal being by now, surely, but, aside from an occasional snore or adjustment of his position as the turns and swerves make him slide about, Mack remains utterly unaffected.[/action:1wsmljaj] [narration:1wsmljaj]Dax supposes, on reflection, that he should not be too terribly surprised, Mack has a soldier's enviable, uncanny ability to sleep whenever the opportunity presents itself, no matter the place or circumstance so long as he can be reasonably certain that he can do so safely - or, as the case is now, that there is nothing productive he can do instead. Returning his attention to his datapad, making his way through the fifteen page epic reply Constanza sent to a simple question about where they might want to head if they wanted to reunite with the crew of [i:1wsmljaj]the Midnight Shadow[/i:1wsmljaj], Dax sighs, wondering if it would be easier to just send the Nagai another holonet message asking for the Cliffsnotes version of the answer than to wade through her babble. He has already tried the [i:1wsmljaj]skip-to-the-end[/i:1wsmljaj] trick to no avail, and skimming proves just as fruitless, so there is nothing for it but to read the bloody thing beginning to end and hope that, somewhere amidst the rambling about De'ath recovering thanks to the efforts of some mysterious black robed chap with "really cool hair", something about Marv waking up after a "[i:1wsmljaj]reeeeeally[/i:1wsmljaj] effing long nap" with a new face, something else about a sentient computer progran named Avvie, and Constanza's belief that she is being hunted by some other chap for reasons that Dax cannot, even after re-reading the relevant sections of the lengthy missive, make heads or tails of, that an answer about where they are currently is eventually forthcoming.[/narration:1wsmljaj][/npc:1wsmljaj]

[npc name=Claude "Mack" Dieter:1wsmljaj][action:1wsmljaj]Waking up without any preamble or discernable effect from having slept so long, Mack scratches a stubbled cheek, looking somehow instantly alert, and looks over to Dax, nodding his chin towards the datapad and asking,[/action:1wsmljaj] "Anything?"[/npc:1wsmljaj]

[npc name=Dax:1wsmljaj][action:1wsmljaj]Shaking his head, the Rodian, having finished the message only to find that the Nagai was writing as she was preparing to leave [i:1wsmljaj]the Endless[/i:1wsmljaj] because of the pursuit she claimed was being mounted for her for reasons Dax still has not managed to get a clear understanding of, hands the datapad to Mack, saying,[/action:1wsmljaj] "Nothing utheful, unleth you want to thychoanalythe Conthantha. The'th as addled in writing as the ith in perthon. Tho far as the knowth, Ade'th on [i:1wsmljaj]the Endleth[/i:1wsmljaj], recovering in the medbay. The never mentionth where they are, or were, or where they were heading, tho I gueth we better hope our friendth tracking neth better rethulth."[/npc:1wsmljaj]

[npc name=Claude "Mack" Dieter:1wsmljaj][action:1wsmljaj]Reading a few paragraphs of Vinti's holonet message as he translates Dax's speech into Basic in his head, Mack hands the datapad back to his companion rather than risking a headache from trying to make sense of Vinti and nods, saying,[/action:1wsmljaj] "Yeah. [action:1wsmljaj]Looking up at the ceiling as he laces his hands behind his back, Mack listens to the sounds coming from around them, feeling the manuevering of the freighter becoming gradually less frentic and guessing that they are nearing their destination, he adds,[/action:1wsmljaj] We'll find out soon enough."[/npc:1wsmljaj]
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Post Fri Oct 22, 2010 11:21 pm

Re: Open Space and Asteroid Field



*It had been well over twenty hours since I had pulled the Bronze Star and her passengers from orbit around the planet Varonat, into hyperspace and bound for the desolate, forsaken wilderness of Wild Space. It had been twenty-something, but it felt like forty, since the first time I had pulled those levels back in the cockpit, and watched the universe merge into starlines, and then the starless ether of hyperspace. Since then, I had pulled those levers countless other times, and only been successful twice. It had indeed been a long and frustrating journey. Barely six hours out of Varonat, something had given out in the hyperdrive system with an emphatic bang, and left us stranded at least a dozen lightyears from any known civilized place. Scrappy had traced the problem to the hyperdrive motivator, which had apparently been damaged when we blasted out of Tropis, and repairs had taken half an hour or so. I hadn't minded so much, as the problem was easily corrected, and we had enough speed to catch up with Fel if we pushed things to their limits. But pushing that hard had caused other problems, and two hours later, I had been wretched from a sound sleep by another failure, and the wailing and screaming of a dozen alarms. Fortunately, droids were faster than unconscious sentients, and my faithful R2 unit had shut down the hyperdrive before any permanent damage had been done. My passengers had been understandably upset and distrustful at that point, but what was most irritating was that I had nothing to fill my time while we waited. There were no repairs to make, rather, we simply had to wait for the cooling system to reboot and catch up with the drive. Scrappy suggested cleaning the ship, but unfortunately we couldn't find any dirty places that had escaped the dutiful droid's earlier escapades with his sterilizer spray. A good 40 minutes later, by the lounge chrono, and we were under way again. But I hadn't been able to sleep. After trying for an hour, I hopped in the fresher, and then went and sat in the cockpit, watching the mottled greys and browns of hyperspace pass by, and taking a tour of the engine room every hour or so. By the time we arrived in the vicinity of our destination, the somewhat mysterious Smugglers' Run, I was bone tired, and more than a little irritable. A hard battle, then the shock of my injuries, then the intervention of a healer, then two engine repairs, with only a two hour nap to show for it, and anyone would have been a mess. Fortunately a hot shower and a hanful of high-energy ration bars had restored my sanity, or I might not have been ready for the difficult approach to the Run. The proximity meter began to beep as it ticked down the seconds, and Scrappy hooted in anticipation. Regretfully, I stood in the cockpit, and then reached for a comlink.*

::: Karana, Wade, Dazac, we're approaching our destination. Time to belt in. I'm going to the engine room to make sure the hyperdrive cuts off when it's supposed to. We're coming out in an asteroid field, so hang tight. Scrappy's even more precise a flyer than I am, at least for a short time, so don't worry, we won't hit anything. :::





*Clipping the comlink to my collar, I scrambled towards the rear of the ship as the seconds ticked to zero. Suddenly, there was a jolt, and the wavering nothingness outside the viewports resolved into starlines, and then stars.... and then asteroids. Far more of them than there should have been, as I watched my wrist display''s feed of cockpit data. My data had been wrong. Again. Giving the problematic hyperdrive coolant system one last hurried look, I vaulted out of the engine hatch, and sprinted forwards. Or at least I tried too. I only got two steps towards a headlong run, when a sudden dip threw me flying across the room. There, that was my bad luck again. Scrappy was already making corrections. Fighting to my feet, I half crawled, half fell, towards the front of the ship, as we pitched and rolled and spun and dove. I could hear hissing noises as dust collided with the shields. I had to get to that cockpit. Scrappy was capable of almost infinite precision in flight, but I knew his circuits had a limit. He couldn't keep this up for long......*
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Post Fri Oct 22, 2010 11:31 pm

Re: Open Space and Asteroid Field

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Post Sun Oct 24, 2010 8:20 pm

Re: Open Space and Asteroid Field

[quote="Jace Stealer":2zkjckm8][narration:2zkjckm8]Once he felt that they had hit a calm spot, he quickly glanced over the controls. He had noticed that Fel was working with a single set of coordinates, which he had been moving towards as if it was his compass for getting through the deadly shield of rocks.[/narration:2zkjckm8]"So, where do those coordinates lead us?"[narration:2zkjckm8]He looked to Fel, hoping he would answer his question fully. The more information he gathered about the Smuggler's Run, the better. Not only for his own knowledge, but also for his forces sitting in wait. And as a side-note, he was the leader of an intelligence gathering organization, so it would only make sense for him to get this information regardless.[/narration:2zkjckm8][/quote:2zkjckm8]

[narration:2zkjckm8]Fel didn't look up from the cockpit canopy, his eyes scanned back and forth constantly as the pilot adjusted thrust vector and heading, occasionally remapping exhaust venting, occasionally altering system power routing: whatever a specific maneuver required. His fingers were in constant motion of the controls, or on the control yoke, and the Eagle seemed to be making progress in the asteroid field. Fel rotated the craft as two rocks the size of Bantha criss-crossed in their path and collided, the shower of debris pelting the ship like broken plate glass. Fel had heard Jace sit, but hadn't made conversation until now.[/narration:2zkjckm8]

Actually Jace, I have no idea what those coordinates are for. Somewhere in the middle of this sector. To be honest, I'm just keeping time... [action:2zkjckm8]the pilot's eyes moved as if in REM sleep, but the lids were open, searching for something intangible...[/action:2zkjckm8] ...like a metronome. Everything out there's got a rhythm. You gotta move with the beat, or you get walloped.

[narration:2zkjckm8]It soon became clear to those in the cockpit that Fel was actually using the reflected sensor sweeps as timekeeper for his internal dance with the asteroids. Every roll of the ship, every motion and accelleration, choreographed. The waypoint he had set was days' travel distant, but just far enough to provide just the right 'rhythm.'[/narration:2zkjckm8]

We're headed for the Smuggler's Run. [i:2zkjckm8]Those[/i:2zkjckm8] coordinates I keep in my head. You'll know it when you see it. A rock like the rest, but bigger. Called Skip One. Ain't much there to call home, but it's where Draykon will be, if he's here.

[narration:2zkjckm8]Fel looked over briefly at his co-pilot as she spoke:[/narration:2zkjckm8]

[quote="Myranda Ghomesz":2zkjckm8]"We're doing slightly better than last time with the Eagle... this wasn't our first ship. There was nothing left of the last one..."[/quote:2zkjckm8]

[narration:2zkjckm8]Continuing to work the controls, Fel smirked, the scar at the corner of his mouth pulling his features into a rough approximation of a sneer, and quipped[/narration:2zkjckm8]

Don't worry, Ghomesz... I crash better than anyone I know! Trust me...

[narration:2zkjckm8]At that moment, several rocks, parting ways and either avoided or destroyed by the 'Eagle' moved in such a way as to reveal the horizon of Skip One, very obviously a larger satellite than the others, appearing at the ships' 11 o'clock. For the first time, Fel took his gloved hand from the controls, in order to point at their momentary salvation.[/narration:2zkjckm8]

There. Hang on, we're going in.
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Post Mon Oct 25, 2010 10:30 am

Re: Open Space and Asteroid Field

[quote="Liya Tawaza":1gcrfyjn][size=85:1gcrfyjn]{ Starlight-class light freighter, the [i:1gcrfyjn]Bronze Star of Eliathix[/i:1gcrfyjn] }[/size:1gcrfyjn]

[narration:1gcrfyjn]It had been well over twenty hours since I had pulled the Bronze Star and her passengers from orbit around the planet Varonat, into hyperspace and bound for the desolate, forsaken wilderness of Wild Space. It had been twenty-something, but it felt like forty, since the first time I had pulled those levels back in the cockpit, and watched the universe merge into starlines, and then the starless ether of hyperspace. Since then, I had pulled those levers countless other times, and only been successful twice. It had indeed been a long and frustrating journey. Barely six hours out of Varonat, something had given out in the hyperdrive system with an emphatic bang, and left us stranded at least a dozen lightyears from any known civilized place. Scrappy had traced the problem to the hyperdrive motivator, which had apparently been damaged when we blasted out of Tropis, and repairs had taken half an hour or so. I hadn't minded so much, as the problem was easily corrected, and we had enough speed to catch up with Fel if we pushed things to their limits. But pushing that hard had caused other problems, and two hours later, I had been wretched from a sound sleep by another failure, and the wailing and screaming of a dozen alarms. Fortunately, droids were faster than unconscious sentients, and my faithful R2 unit had shut down the hyperdrive before any permanent damage had been done. My passengers had been understandably upset and distrustful at that point, but what was most irritating was that I had nothing to fill my time while we waited. There were no repairs to make, rather, we simply had to wait for the cooling system to reboot and catch up with the drive. Scrappy suggested cleaning the ship, but unfortunately we couldn't find any dirty places that had escaped the dutiful droid's earlier escapades with his sterilizer spray. A good 40 minutes later, by the lounge chrono, and we were under way again. But I hadn't been able to sleep. After trying for an hour, I hopped in the fresher, and then went and sat in the cockpit, watching the mottled greys and browns of hyperspace pass by, and taking a tour of the engine room every hour or so. By the time we arrived in the vicinity of our destination, the somewhat mysterious Smugglers' Run, I was bone tired, and more than a little irritable. A hard battle, then the shock of my injuries, then the intervention of a healer, then two engine repairs, with only a two hour nap to show for it, and anyone would have been a mess. Fortunately a hot shower and a hanful of high-energy ration bars had restored my sanity, or I might not have been ready for the difficult approach to the Run. The proximity meter began to beep as it ticked down the seconds, and Scrappy hooted in anticipation. Regretfully, I stood in the cockpit, and then reached for a comlink.[/narration:1gcrfyjn]

[color=#FF80FF:1gcrfyjn]::: Karana, Wade, Dazac, we're approaching our destination. Time to belt in. I'm going to the engine room to make sure the hyperdrive cuts off when it's supposed to. We're coming out in an asteroid field, so hang tight. Scrappy's even more precise a flyer than I am, at least for a short time, so don't worry, we won't hit anything. :::[/color:1gcrfyjn]

[color=#FFBFFF:1gcrfyjn][size=85:1gcrfyjn]I damn well hope I'm right, Scrappy, I haven't exactly had any luck today.[/size:1gcrfyjn][/color:1gcrfyjn]

[size=85:1gcrfyjn][color=#00FF40:1gcrfyjn]... Tootle-Beep ...[/color:1gcrfyjn][/size:1gcrfyjn]

[narration:1gcrfyjn]Clipping the comlink to my collar, I scrambled towards the rear of the ship as the seconds ticked to zero. Suddenly, there was a jolt, and the wavering nothingness outside the viewports resolved into starlines, and then stars.... and then asteroids. Far more of them than there should have been, as I watched my wrist display''s feed of cockpit data. My data had been wrong. Again. Giving the problematic hyperdrive coolant system one last hurried look, I vaulted out of the engine hatch, and sprinted forwards. Or at least I tried too. I only got two steps towards a headlong run, when a sudden dip threw me flying across the room. There, that was my bad luck again. Scrappy was already making corrections. Fighting to my feet, I half crawled, half fell, towards the front of the ship, as we pitched and rolled and spun and dove. I could hear hissing noises as dust collided with the shields. I had to get to that cockpit. Scrappy was capable of almost infinite precision in flight, but I knew his circuits had a limit. He couldn't keep this up for long......[/narration:1gcrfyjn][/quote:1gcrfyjn]



[color=#00BFFF:1gcrfyjn]├óÔé¼┼ôWade--├óÔé¼┬Ø[/color:1gcrfyjn]

There was a [i:1gcrfyjn]thud[/i:1gcrfyjn] as Karana was hurled from her seat to the floor. Clinging for dear life to the crash webbing, she pulled herself back up, the ship trembling under her feet, and threw herself back in the chair. She pulled the belts over her hips and chest, buckling them as the datapad she├óÔé¼Ôäód laid on her lap slid off her legs. The ship dipped and pitched. Karana├óÔé¼Ôäós face paled. Normally, flying never bothered her, but this? Well, this [i:1gcrfyjn]definitely[/i:1gcrfyjn] wasn't 'normally'. She had to give Tawaza and her metal co-pilot credit, though. Navigating an asteroid field was tough. One wrong move and you're toast.

Turning her head just an inch, she cast a green glance at Wade, who was leaning serenely against the inner hull, as unconcerned and balanced as if he were chillin├óÔé¼Ôäó on firm ground. She swallowed, rolling her eyes.

[color=#00BFFF:1gcrfyjn]├óÔé¼┼ôI [i:1gcrfyjn]may[/i:1gcrfyjn] throw up on you,├óÔé¼┬Ø[/color:1gcrfyjn] she groaned.
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Post Mon Oct 25, 2010 11:13 am

Re: Open Space and Asteroid Field

"This isn't that hard you know." Wade said as he pushed off the wall and crouched in front of her. If she did throw up he'd see it coming and get out of the way. "The ship has a rythm. Just like everything else in the galaxy. You just have to find it." He stood and slid into the seat next to her. "For some people that comes naturally, people like me are born with an innate sense of our own rythm, and by extension the galaxy's. Although that one sometimes takes a bit of looking for, even for us. Just concentrate on the ship. Feel the ship. Listen to it's creaks and groans and feel it's sways and turns. Not just with your stomach like most people do, but with your entire body. Feel how it moves and find the rythm and you can move with it, just like I do."
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Post Mon Oct 25, 2010 2:29 pm

Re: Open Space and Asteroid Field

Karana stared at him, blank-faced, for about twenty seconds before snorting derisively.

"...Boy, you picked a hell of a time to go all 'Master Sage' on me, Gumby." Somehow through all the nausea, she managed to find and put on her ├óÔé¼╦£big bad tough-girl├óÔé¼Ôäó expression. "Do I look like the kind o' girl who can 'feel the rhythm'?"

In all honesty, he made sense, but she couldn't let him know that.
He shouldn't have. Shouldn't have made sense, that is. Karana took to philosophy and 'wise words' about as well as a Hutt took to dieting. ├óÔé¼╦£Feel the ship?├óÔé¼Ôäó Her brain wasn't wired to compute mumbo-jumbo 'touchy-feely', so her automatic response to Wade├óÔé¼Ôäós suggestion was less than cooperative. Frankly, she was just fine with being ignorant. Deep stuff was for smart people, and her mind was crowded enough as it was. No sense goin├óÔé¼Ôäó an├óÔé¼Ôäó filling it with nonsense about energy fields and rhythms. If it involved intense concentration, gettin├óÔé¼Ôäó deep, and ├óÔé¼╦£feeling├óÔé¼Ôäó stuff with your mind, well, chances were Karana wasn├óÔé¼Ôäót gonna be too enthusiastic about it, much less understand it.

But he gorram made sense. He talked mumbo-jumbo ├óÔé¼╦£touchy feely├óÔé¼Ôäó, Karana listened, and it processed.

That freaked her out a bit. Damn. She must be losin├óÔé¼Ôäó her stupid. I blame Fel, she thought, not without a fond thought-tone. His fault for exposin├óÔé¼Ôäó me to too much smart├óÔé¼┬ª

The ship had a rhythm. In fact, all ships did. Karana wasn't totally new to this idea. She was no pilot; she├óÔé¼Ôäód never felt that bond between captain and vessel. But she├óÔé¼Ôäód seen it at work when Fel was at the command board, the way he├óÔé¼Ôäód let himself melt over the controls. That peaceful expression, the thrill in his eyes├óÔé¼┬ª That fusion of craft and man. Sometimes, she wasn├óÔé¼Ôäót sure who she was looking at: Fel, or the ship?
But the rhythm Wade spoke of? The breath of the ship as it pushed forward, the movement of its pieces and metal plates as it twisted and spun, like muscles under flesh? The beat of its engine heart?

Yeah. She could feel that. Well, she usually could. It was hard for her to feel it when the floor kept weaving around.

Again, she blamed Fel. Until crewing with the pilot, she├óÔé¼Ôäód never seen starships as anything more than a hunk ├óÔé¼Ôäóo metal and buttons. Cold, dead things that cut through the cold, dead space surrounding each planet. It├óÔé¼Ôäós how she├óÔé¼Ôäód viewed the universe: nothing but a ├óÔé¼╦£place├óÔé¼Ôäó to survive. An unfeeling place, at that, and if you wanted to survive, you did whatever it took. ├óÔé¼╦£Whatever It Took├óÔé¼Ôäó was simple, too. You land, cheat, kill, reap, sleep, steal, fly, and start over again. You watch your back and yours along. If someone ain├óÔé¼Ôäót quick enough to do the same, well, that was their problem. You walk alone, ├óÔé¼Ôäócause you can├óÔé¼Ôäót trust nobody else. See everything as simply and as coldly as you could, no distractions. Don├óÔé¼Ôäót look at the stars, look past them. Don├óÔé¼Ôäót admire the landscape, analyze it, and for God sakes, don├óÔé¼╦£t go thinkin├óÔé¼Ôäó people are nice to you just because they├óÔé¼╦£re nice people; everyone has an ulterior motive. Don├óÔé¼Ôäót, and maybe you├óÔé¼Ôäód survive.

But Fel had opened her eyes. He├óÔé¼Ôäód shown her life. He├óÔé¼Ôäód shown her wonder, whether he knew it or not. Odds are, he probably didn├óÔé¼Ôäót. Well, that was fine. The less people that knew how soft an├óÔé¼Ôäó starry-eyed she was gettin├óÔé¼Ôäó the better.

Karana figured that├óÔé¼Ôäós why Wade was making sense, though. It took the wonder-factor to even consider what he was sayin├óÔé¼Ôäó to be some form of truth.

The Bronze Star shuddered again. Karana├óÔé¼Ôäós ├óÔé¼╦£tough girl├óÔé¼Ôäó expression slid. ├óÔé¼┼ôUgh├óÔé¼┬ª├óÔé¼┬Ø She closed her eyes against Wade├óÔé¼Ôäós prodding stare. ├óÔé¼┼ôFine, just quit lookin├óÔé¼Ôäó at me.├óÔé¼┬Ø Swallowing again, she tried to ignore the nausea, focusing instead on the rolling of the ship.

The sounds.

The tiny movements.

The scents.

It was difficult, but she found if she focused hard enough, she could almost predict which way the vessel would go next. Knowing this ahead of time seemed to quell the nausea and the head-spinning. The jolts were suddenly less violent, and the pitching and dipping didn├óÔé¼Ôäót screw with her sense of balance.

Well, as balanced as one could be while sitting strapped six ways to hell in a booth.

├óÔé¼┼ôHeyhey├óÔé¼┬ª!├óÔé¼┬Ø Karana smiled a little, eyes still closed. The green had gone from her face, though her cheeks were still pale. ├óÔé¼┼ôOk, Ninja Master, I see how it├óÔé¼Ôäós done now. Huh├óÔé¼┬ªYou├óÔé¼Ôäóre right, it├óÔé¼Ôäós not so bad when you├óÔé¼╦£re feeling it instead of fighting it.├óÔé¼┬Ø She peeked out from under one lid. ├óÔé¼┼ôGot any more tricks up your brain? Or is that my lesson for the day?├óÔé¼┬Ø
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Post Mon Oct 25, 2010 3:46 pm

Re: Open Space and Asteroid Field

[quote="Karana Malora":7344b2t4] [color=#00BFFF:7344b2t4]├óÔé¼┼ôGot any more tricks up your brain?[/color:7344b2t4][/quote:7344b2t4]
[color=#FF8000:7344b2t4]"You have no idea. But for now you need to concentrate on the one you know so you can get through this without hurling."[/color:7344b2t4] Wade smiled and patted her lightly on the back before leaning back in his own seat. The truth was, it had nothing to do with mystical energy fields or mind games and tricks. Wade was about as force sensitive as a rock, but that didn't mean he couldn't understand cause and effect. And when it came right down to it, that's all it was. Knowing how one action relates to another. His father's race had that ability naturally, and it had been passed on to him. And even though Karana didn't have that headstart, it didn't mean she couldn't learn.
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Post Tue Oct 26, 2010 7:23 am

Re: Open Space and Asteroid Field

*The final descent to the hangar bay on Skip One was as dicey as they come. Not only did the pilot / copilot team have to contend with asteroids right down to the surface, they were also hampered by the necessity to slow down and negotiate the rough-hewn entrance to the shielded cavern mouth that led to the man-made hangar beyond. Slowing down meant a lack of maneuverability, which in turn meant the asteroids were harder to fend off or avoid. The rock face of Skip One was strewn with the carcasses of ships from years past, pilots who hadn't had the luck and died within spitting distance of their supposed 'safe haven.'

It was like flying a slow formation in the midst of a heavy battery of flak... you were gonna get hit... the question was, how bad?

Fel knew there were no second chances at accessing Skip One's hangar bay. No option for errors. Rolling through another volley of asteroids, Fel pushed the nose of the Millennium Eagle toward the jagged, open hole that passed for a hangar entrance. He could see Jace and Myranda scanning for their destination, and when they saw what he was doing, where they were headed, a collective intake of breath signaled that they both understood the seriousness of their situation. Fel goosed the engines to maximum thrust, and a proximity warning claxon began to wail in the flight deck, pre-programmed by CEC to sound as a ship descended below safe operating altitudes at excessive speed.

Fel ignored the siren, and began to line up his approach. At this point, less than ten seconds remained between the entryway and the Eagle, there was no more room to dodge flying rocks, and luck played a role in their survival. Luck, and laser blasts. Fel was glad to hear Myranda keep blasting away with the blaster cannons, and as a shower of rock dust spattered the canopy and across the superstructure, Fel knew she had connected, at least once. Every muscle tensed as the opening grew larger in the cockpit canopy... just a few seconds now...*


Ghomesz, lock in the aux power to dorsal and ventral shielding... this is going to be...

*They passed through the cavern entryway, and Fel cut in full reverse engines immediately. It wasn't quite enough though, and the Eagle scraped her port hull along the cavern wall. The entire ship shuddered as they made physical contact with the cave, and Fel cursed himself bitterly as a dozen lights flashed along the console. Soon enough the ship slowed to a standstill, and Fel maneuvered the freighter back into the flight lane, using repulsors only. The pilot flipped on the landing lights, and for the first time in just over ten minutes, Galdaart Fel breathed a sigh of relief.*

...close.

*They flew on in silence for a few minutes, following the natural cavern until it was replaced by a man-made structure, much like a pre-fab hangar the Imps would have erected on a newly-captured world. The structure was ill-maintained, filthy, and had seen a lot of use over the years. The flooring was blackened with heat and afterburner scorching, and stained with fuel and grease. Empty fuel canisters and cargo crates were strewn all over the hangar, and vessels of every conceivable size and shape dotted the ground, many looked like they were carcasses, stripped of useful parts and dying a slow, lonely death. There were no bays. Anarchy reigned. Ships sat at random locations throughout the hangar, and Fel scanned the ships as they passed.*

There. That's as good a spot as any. Whaddaya think, Ghomesz? Nice an' close to home.

*There was lots of space in the hangar. No more than twenty serviceable vessels stood on the deck, and Fel pointed to a space nearest the fueling rig, and not more than a hundred yards from a small building with a flashing red neon sign that read 'Shift.' The 'f' was burnt out, so the sign read something completely different.

If it was even possible, this place looked even more sketchy than Mos Eisley. The beings that moved to and fro across the deck openly carried arms and armor, and each and every one eyed the YT-1300 hungrily, as if new meat had arrived.*
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Post Tue Oct 26, 2010 7:30 am

Re: Open Space and Asteroid Field

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Post Tue Oct 26, 2010 8:24 am

Re: Open Space and Asteroid Field

Myranda spots a vessel not too far off that easily caught her eye. Then again, that ship with THAT color would catch anyone's eye from a few lightyears away. It was that loud. She was looking of course at Adriana Lima's overPINK Maka-Eekai L4000 Transport, which she suspected, even without ilumination, would be easily spotted. Myranda glances at Galdaart and jerks her thumb at the pink ship, "So long as we don't park next to a ship that loud. I don't mind."

On a mildly humorous note, Myranda smirks and points out to a spot where a rusty old heap that looked more junk than ship was parked. "Hey, look! They still have our specially reserved parking spot, see the blue markers? They were made for us because of our frequent flyer mileage. We visited the Run so often that we were getting discount prices. And uh...apparently, they still kept what's left of our last ship..."
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Post Tue Oct 26, 2010 9:49 pm

Re: Open Space and Asteroid Field

YT-1300 light freighter, The Millennium Eagle





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Post Tue Oct 26, 2010 10:58 pm

Re: Open Space and Asteroid Field

OOC: Posting in Skip 1.*
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Post Tue Oct 26, 2010 11:15 pm

Re: Open Space and Asteroid Field

*The ship continued its crazy, topsy-turvy, twisted, semi-controlled collision with the warped reality of flight in an asteroid field, and my feet continued to slip out from under me. The interial compensator --- I really should replace it --- simply wasn't up to dealing with this many Gees. Tossing dignity to the wind, I lay on my belly on the shining clean deck, feet braced against the back wall of the main passenger lounge, and relaxed, letting the dips and jolts of the ship flow through my body until I had a better feel for their rhythm. Then, suddenly, I felt my chance, and pushed off from the wall with both legs just as the deck fell out from under me. My passengers would no doubt be startled to see me suddenly hurtle past them, but my attention was elsewhere. I held my breath, waiting to see whether I would hit the open hatchway into the cockpit, or bash my brains out on some unexpected impedance. It occurred to my flygirl brain that I was now nothing more than the ball in a deadly game of ramps and ladders. That should have unnerved me, but somehow it didn't --- my concentration was too great.*

*The flight through the cabin seemed to last minutes, although it could not have taken more than a quarter second. This, I told myself, as I eyed the fast approaching durasteel bulkhead above the cockpit's hatch, had better be right, or it was all going to be over in a hurry --- and this was not the sort of ending I wanted my career to have. Next time, I was staying belted in like a smart pilot, and the hyperdrive be hanged. It didn't matter if we crashed at lightspeed, that was a quicker death even than the current one I was facing. But I knew the Bronze Star, and I knew Scrappy, and sure enough, the whole ship jumped up and hit me in the face mere centimeters before I would have spattered my grey matter across the lounge like a fragment grenade.*

*And then it was over, and I landed with a cartilage-wrecking thump, half-in, half-out of my pilot's yoke. Something in my left foot gave way as I kicked the console, but I had no time to notice. The comlink clipped to my collar slipped free, its tenancy to remain in motion too much much for the cheap clip that had held it. It impacted with the viewscreen and exploded into dust and tiny wires, causing me to involuntarily duck as they rained across the cockpit. Well, better that than my brains. There were too many flying objects outside that screen for me to worry about ones inside. As my head came back up, I caught sight of the full severity of the situation.*

*The green and white R5 unit to my left was almost ablaze with flashing lights. He didn't even chirp recognition or appreciation at my arrival, there being no extra processing power left over to record the event. Just as my eyes acclimated themselves to their surroundings and began to process the augmented reality playing out across the viewscreen in front of me, my faithful droid let out a scream and a puff of smoke, and blue energy began to playout all across his exposed circuitry. The asteriod field had been too much for him, and he shut off with a bang and an acrid smell --- one that I barely had time to notice because we were heading directly for THE BIGGEST FRAKKING ASTERIOD IN SIGHT.*

*Subconsciously, my hands had already found the controls and latched on with an instinctive, two-handed grip. Suddenly becoming cognizant of this fact, I pulled sharply up and to the starboard, away from the ugly brown and grey monstrosity that blocked a good portion of my field of vision. The Star balked for a moment as it worked through the switch in pilots, and then, slowly but surely, it began to pull away from the impending rocky doom below. I became as one with the ship as my hands flew across the other controls, smoothing out our attitude and pitch, and ending the slight corkscrew the ship had been in. Adding extra power to the port engines, I felt the ship pull up and away a little faster. It still wasn't enough though. A bright red glow flashed and flickered up from the shields along our keel as rocks along the surface touched the energy field below us. The friction buffeted the ship, and my hands clenched tighter on the control stick. I held my breath, waiting for the wrenching tug as some rocky outcropping buried itself in the hull, but it never came, and seconds later, we were putting distance between us and the rock of doom once more. That was as near a miss as I ever want to experience, I thought to myself as I exhaled and bit back an ancient Epicant curse.*

*The adrenalin rush didn't end with the danger, and I felt positively giddy as the last asteroids crossed in and out of our path (one of them sent on its way with my swift blast from the laser cannons), and an slight area of open space opened its arms in a welcome embrace. The navicomputer pointed my gaze towards a rock the size of a small moon, and, coming around, I saw a gaping, misshapen mouth in the side of the big ole rock. That, then, must be Skip One. I had deduced our destination, for although I had never set foot in this particular dark port myself, I had prior knowledge of the Smuggler's Run, and my father had spoken of this place. It was a den of deceit and scumbaggery, and one would pay to watch one's step here. I would have to be careful. It wouldn't do to be mistaken for some rookie. With a slight twist of the wrists, I brought the Bronze Star around, and angled it down and into the maw of the hulking asteroid. My eyes glanced up to check the chronometer --- we were almost an hour late, Fel wasn't going to like that --- and only then did I notice the seventeen separate warning lights flashing on the control board in front of me, and the screaming claxons from every part of the ship. Sigh. The old girl was going to need an overhaul --- and this place probably was about the last place in the 'verse I wanted to attempt such a caper.*

*My passengers! I remembered, being surprised once more by the depth and completeness of my mental tunneling and focus under stress. Captain Fel wasn't likely to ever trust me again (at least with anyone he truly liked), if they told him about the awful details of this experience. But there was nothing I could do about that now. Quickly, I reached for my collar with one gloved hand, then remembered the source of the plastic hailstorm raging all around me, and leaned over to key a com button on the side of the console.*

::: You all alive and undamaged back there? :::
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