[ Closed ] The Red Helm (Page 7 of 8)

Earon didn't falter beneath Nora's icy stare, she drew in a breath, tasting the refiltered oxygen of the ship. Her fingers absently tracing the weilding lines of her helmet. She started, trying to make her voice sound as strong as she tried to potray herself.
    "Pull up the map," Earon said, didn't ask. Nora didn't move, Earon tried to elaborate. "Most maps are outdated as of last month. A new holding area has been added on to the westwing, and that trinket of a helmet Mandalore Fett wants has been moved there. Now, in one standard week the local lords/ladies are holding a shebang for the coming of age of their monarch. Catchin' my drift?"
    "They're going to be short-handed that night. It'll be easy to get in from there; either we can split up and one group create a diversion at the party and the other can get in and get out. Or, we can take the place be force, Mandalore's Ghost knows you people brought enough muscule to get a rancor feed for a week. If you decide to go with plan "A"; I get get the diversion into the party. Or, I can get us hired to guard their junk for the night."
   Earon Sho'senaar never thought that she could feel so confident in her abilities and so scared at the same time. Use the fear, don't let it use you, her Dad's mantra flitted through her mind. Earon breathed deeply again and held the woman's I'm-not-going-to-look-away-first stare.

"Kind of cliche to throw a being out an airlock."
Dres wanted to imagine he couldn't hear the conversation. His player had frozen for the moment. A fate's chance, maybe if it hadn't he could have ignored it. But you can't fix that. And of course, since he could hear it, the sand could understand it. A waste pocket shuddered a split second.
"Anbu, you're babbling." Warren
"I don't even feel like argueing."
Dres popped the battery out, slapping it back in. Getting back to his song.The crew might've heard him. Interesting prospect. In all hopes the sands would forgive him for not stopping them should they actually try to throw her out. But a cry for help would just ruin that...Dres sighed. Faith could be tiring. Such a thing to force him to stand up, click the com button. Ready a credit cube.
"A quick minute with a crew member would be nice. Understandable if you can't but this could be serious."
Anbu had to stop the doc from getting out his fake blood. Seemed someone else's religion had finally saved another being.

"Actually...that doesn't mean I'm not going to bother you in the matter."
Dres threw the credit cube. One thousand should be enough persuasion. He'd be paying for her trip. Keep the low wavelengths in this place to a minimum. Just because the humanoids didn't understand a Siannic's position.
"You can throw her into the cargo hold. Keep her on the bridge. But don't open the airlock...or we'll all die."

Earon had been trained to keep emotion off her face; her expression always placid. But a sense of dread coiled in her gut like a leaden snake. Oh, gods, help. Come on, Sho'senaar, didn't grow up on Gargon as a slick talker for nothing. Her lips parted to breathe the breathe of life, but none would come.
   Stubborn to a fault, Earon had yet to allow her gaze to falter. If I'm goin' to die, at least I'll go with dignity. She let her mental shrug become physical.
    "Well, Nora. Guess I died helpin' a cause of Mandalore. Couldn't ask to die anywhere else but the sea. Here, amoung the souls of our ancestors," a smile touched her lips.
    Earon crossed the room to the veiwport; clasping her arms behind her back. "Well, I guess this is kind of the sea." There was a long pause before Earon turned back to the chargin of her fate. She had never felt so calm in her entire life. The snake in her stomach hadn't lifted, but an eiree sixth sense had injected ice water into her veins. "Thankyou, Nora," she sighed softly.

“Sentiments do not move me,” Nora replied in an almost mechanical tone, “Nor does gratitude...”  The huntress made a gesture to Saviin, “Put her in a holding cell....I’ll decide what to do with her once we reach the Katarn....”

Saviin gave a curt nod and ushered the woman away down the corridor and into the rear of the ship.  She directed the armored stranger towards a holding cell where a scanning beam gave her a once over, registering the data into the ship’s main computer.  “Don’t bother trying your weapons in here,” Saviin warned as she gave the woman a push into the cell, “There are several dampening shields in place.  If you fire your weapon the blast will only ricochet about unit it strikes you...”  Saviin pulled her helm from her head and gave her long lavender locks a shake, “Nothing personal....just business...” she reminded the younger woman, “Roan must have some use for you....otherwise you’d be sucking space by now....”  The cell door sealed with a hiss and the shields hummed to life...

((OOC:  Lets just move this on to the point at which they arrive at the Katarn.  Unless Atinvod wishes to add something.    Atinvod – PM me and we’ll figure out what to do once we reach the Katarn.  ))

Uriel left hyperspace and powered down his fighter. His power cells were running dangerously close to empty, even with the modified secondary tanks.
"Fierfek." Uriel said to himself tapping the energy reading display in front of him with his finger. "R9 reroute secondary power cells to the engines, we'll save the main drives in case we need em."
R9 beeped and whirred in response.
Now sitting motionless in the hard vaccum, Uriel was at a loss as of what to do next. The Trandoshian deal had turned sour, and he was light years from his home system. He didn't want to go back empty handed. Mattias would give him the "I told you so" speech for sure.
"Lets see what we got here." Uriel said booting his Nav computer. "Need something close by, but somewhat inhabited.."
His computer blipped in response as a planet, a mere 300 light kilometers away came up on the screen. The name was unknown, then again he didn't usually travel out this far.
"Hmm." Uriel removed his helmet and ran a hand through his hair as more diagnostics of the planet scrolled up the screen. "Nitrogen based atmosphere, breathable, majority of human inhabitants." he stopped the screen as the name "Mandalorian" flashed past.
"Wait a second." he said leaning against his restraint harness. "Mandos huh?" Uriel looked over his shoulder into the cargo bay at the crates of weapons. "Sounds like an investment to me. R9, plot a new course for that planet, and get me an approach vector."
R9 bleeped once again and the Fury's engines boosted to life towards the planet.

OOC:  I hate to bring it up yet again - and this is a reminder for everyone in general - please do not act for my (or anyone else's) characters.  Saviin would not have let a prisoner out to stretch his/her legs.  And Evaar would not linger around and ask a million questions, nor would she take a friendly interest in someone designated as a prisoner for the time being.  And its up to me to decide whether Evaar might have a worried look in her eyes or not. 

I know I moved Earon into a cell, but i did not speak, think, or otherwise act for her. 

This is a traditional RPG, not a "round robin" type game where everyone can share in the characters' habits, comments, and general actions.  Apparently this is not the norm of play here.  But I have been role playing for about 6 yrs now and in any game I've ever been in - about 90% of them - everyone controlled their own characters and didn't think or speak for others.   I know there are other ways of RPing, but I prefer the way in which you control only your own characters, as you would control yourself in real life.  In real life, you have no idea what someone else is thinking, feeling, etc.  That's the way my characters should be regarded. 

For example:  I'd never have Evaar hang around a prisoner and ask a million questions like a kid.  Thats just not her.  I'm sure if I had Earon cry because she was in the cell, or had Dress pace the floor a bundle of nerves, neither player would be amused. 

I have stated previously that this is a traditional RPG.  I'm sorry if its not what some members are accustomed to.  If you find it frustrating, perhaps you should consider joining another story on the boards.

Also, we are not on planet yet.  We are heading to the Katarn, a ship upon which we will rendevous with a group that will further assist us in reaching our goal on Brozyna.  There are three people who have been waiting for us to get to the Katarn so they can start their characters.  Please read the posts carefully so you know where we are going and what is happening. 

So please remember:

Please play your own characters.
Please post clearly so others can understand what your characters are saying/doing.
Please read the posts carefully so you know where we are and what is happening. 

I'm sorry if this all sounds like an angry rant, but I have to admit that it is becoming extremely frustrating.  Keep in mind that none of this is aimed at anyone in particular, it's just a general reminder for all involved in the game.  Also, please refer to the beginning page where this matter is mentioned in the game rules.

(( I'm already embarassed about my testy rant above.    But I'm going to let it stand...  Had to state things clearly. ))

Katarn came up on the Obdurate Hammer's screens and "Jari'eyc" Jim Goran leaned back in his seat. "Cute" he grunted outloud, as he read down the specs of the big ship. Hell it even made the Hammer look like a shuttle.

He and his ship still tagged along behind the Nineveh, always at what he considered a safe distance. Didn't want to crowd a pack of female warriors, his mama taught him to mind his manners. And his father said it was just plain common sense.

A big hand activated the comm on the old consule. "Ugly Jim here, I take it things have worked out onboard. Haven't seen anyone taking a spacewalk without a suit."  The big man grinned and it twisted his scar into a mockery of the expression as always.

"So what's our next move? Shaakback <piggyback> a ride, or slip through their defenses?" He asked, either way Goran knew he would have to hide the Hammer. She was too big for such things, this kind of thing wasn't her speciality.

Uriel frowned as his ships sensor arrays picked up some strange energy fluxuations coming from the "Katarn"
"They must have picked us up before we went cold R9." Uriel said to the droid. "They'll be going to battlestations I'm sure."
R9 bleeped.
"I saw that too." Uriel replied. "Two ships are attempting to dock."
Just then red warning claxons began blaring. R9 beeped and whirred annoyingly.
"A fighter wing?" Uriel said grabbing the controls. "They're sweeping for us R9. Damnit, we can't avoid a sonar sweep!"
Uriel watched as the fighters slowly passed, sweeping the sector for a trace of the Fury.
"R9 power down the engines. Theres no way we can outrun them without any fuel."
Suddenly a red warning light flashed inside of Uriel's flight helmet.
"Damnit! They've spotted us!" Uriel swore as the ships swung around and boosted towards him.  A com transmission bleeped up on his HUD. "Attention craft. We have a lock on your position, deactivate your defenses at once or we will open fire."
"Fierfek." Uriel sighed and switched off the cloaking shield. The hull of his ship melted into view. "Don't shoot, don't shoot." he said switching off the auto defenses.
"We have him." Uriel heard one of the pilots say.

Uriel slammed his fist onto the dash of his fighter. "This is Uriel Koslov of the Fury. I'm low on fuel and need to be refueled. Sorry bout the misunderstanding, I wasn't sure if you were friendlies. By the way, do you happen to need any firearms?"