Warrender
Rising Legend
Currently suffering longterm absence from the site
Posts: 698
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Post by Warrender on Mar 19, 2015 14:56:45 GMT
EDIT: Have edited a lot of the text in this post Gods of the Cakarian Star IIIThe follow up from the Nations Game *Rise of the Cakarian Star I and II* and based on *Rise of the Cakarian Star III* Ard’jaous, Cakarian Council Chambers on AstaraArd'jaous slowly paced the dark grey floor outside the Council Chamber doors, the feet of his white armoured suit clanking on the metal with each footfall, his long staff clanging periodically on the floor each time he pulled it along to keep next to him. He twisted on the spot and began to pace back towards the large metal framed doors, his long red cloak wrapping around his side and unravelling as he moved forward once more. The light glared off the dull armour and reflected off the silver joints that acted as pistons and inner armour for the suit. For all intents and purposes you could be forgiven for thinking he was more a robot than a person, in fact, no outsider had ever seen a Cakarian outside their armour and they could easily walk amoung other races unnoticed if it weren't for the fact they relied upon their suits for survival. As he passed over the Royal symbol of the Cakarian Council embedded on the floor the doors cracked as they began to slow swing open, great unseen pistons slowly pulling the huge ornate metal doors open, revealing a lone figure, armoured much like Ard'jaous, though his cloak was green, tattered and torn through age which was unsurprising considering the difference in age gap between him and Ard'jaous. “ The Council has concluded its deliberations” the figure said, its voice raspy and lightly hushed, echoing slightly in the room. Ard'jaous instinctively puffed his chest slightly and inhalled deeply in anticipation, apprehensive at what the verdict would be. “ And?” Ard'jaous asked, his voice booming and echoing slightly in the barren room. “ What has the council decided, Councillor Ta'rellis?” “ Your proposal for intervention has been denied. The Cakari will not interfere” Ta'rellis replied, his voice calm and factual, void of any emotion one would except from the ramifications of such a statement. Ard'jaous's grip on his staff tightened in anger, the tip scraping sharply against the floor as he quickly flicked the staff horizontally, pointing it at Ta'rellis. “ What?! How can the Council decide not to act?! We have the power!!” Ard'jaous growled angrily to the Councillor. Ta'rellis maintained his stance, raising his hand to motion Ard'jaous to stop his tirade, lowering it when Ard'jaous became silent. “ The coming of Nephrathim is not a naturally occurring Cosmic event nor is it a randomly appearing phenomenon. Despite the scope of this disaster it is not our place to interfere with what is essentially a manufactured situation between lesser species, it is not our way to affect their evolution” With that statement Ta'rellis turned on the spot and began to walk back into the Council Chambers, believing that to be an end to the discussion. “ Not our place?!” Ard'jaous shouted back angrily “ Strange that despite not being our place the Council did not object to me uniting the lesser species together to fight the Ardenti incursion, that the Councils did not object to me uniting the lesser species to fight against the Kraw'ven Alliance, and now that it no longer suits your purposes you will simply throw them to the kerb!!” Ard'jaous spat angrily, his voice seething and unable to hold back his contempt for what he was hearing. “ I will not allow you to sign the death warrants of hundreds of species just because they no longer have value to you!!” Ta'rellis halted suddenly, turning his head slowly to look at Ard'jaous from over his shoulder, pausing in thought before turning to face him, his cloaks hood still hiding some of the details of his armoured face mask. “ I would remind you .. Warmaster Ard'jaous .. that it was your insistence of using the fleet to help them that caused us to suffer great losses at the hands of the Ardenti and that it was your insistence of fighting the Kraw'ven that cost yet more Cakarian lives. You hold a position of great power and I now wonder if maybe we were wrong of entrusting that power to one so young. I will also remind you that although you lead the grand Armies of the Cakari you do not lead the Empire and your apathy is all that stands between you joining the Council and you obeying it.” Ta'rellis turned around without further word and strode through the doorway, the giant doors closing automatically behind him and leaving Ardj'aous alone in the cold grey room. Slowly he tilted his staff back to its upright position and clanged it heavily in annoyance against the floor, muttering quietly under his breath “ This, is not over” ----------- The Cakarian Empire is an ancient one, spanning many millennia and a power capable of destroying solar systems with ease. Proud and noble the Cakarian's are rightfully feared and respected in equal measures. Though having reached the pinicle of technology and evolution they have become stagnant and ridged, unable to see any other way beyond that which they have been taught. Some would say the Cakarian's are stubborn and unyielding, a fact that was proven in the first Ardenti Cakari war when worlds burned and soldiers died in the thousands on both sides on what was in essence a border dispute. The Ardenti wished to pass through Cakarian space and the Cakari refused, escalating into bloody conflict because neither side were willing to compromise or negociate for fear of looking weak in the eyes of the other. Both empires had been left bloodied and their prides wounded as shipyards worked overtime to replace the losses incurred. The war had also lead to further implications, with the Cakarian empire still reeling from such loses and grudgingly forming a truce with the Ardenti, the previously quiet Kraw'ven Alliance attempted to seize more power and subvert more races into their empire, knowing that for as long as the Ardenti and Cakari kept their guns pointed at each other their would be no intervention from the Cakari. What the Kraw'ven did not count upon was Warmaster Ard'jaous, a young but experienced tactiction who saw the universe with different eyes from most Cakarian's. Using his influence once more he tried to unite the younger races against the Kraw'ven, seeing them for what they truly were and wishing to protect the individualism of each race. Realising the implications of this new army the Ardenti joined forces with the Kraw'ven in order to defend themselves should this new alliance turn against them. With the knowledge that another war would further destroy the Cakarian and Ardenti empire, Ard'jaous and the Ardenti leader, Mother, discussed terms for peace behind closed doors. In an unexpected turn of events, not only did the Cakari and Ardenti agree to cease hostilities but they also agreed to join forces against the Kraw'ven. With a huge fleet bearing down against the Kraw'ven and the Ardenti betraying them from within their own borders, the Kraw'ven crumpled quickly. But now, a new threat looms over the galaxy, threatening to extinguish all life save those capable of withstanding the onslaught. The ruling system of the Cakari was a simple one. The four Council members formed the ruling cast that dictated the direction of their race, Ta'rellis was the eldest of the four at over 7600 years old, he was primarily responsible as leader of the Religious Caste for ensuring the safety of the Cakari way of life and its rich history. Mor'kouf was the represented leader of the Builder Caste and directed his people in how and where to build the great structures and cities that covered the planet of Cakari. At his whim, entire cities could be erected or demolished. Bor'rious was the youngest of the Council at 4000 years old, a well respected leader of the Earth caste who ensured the dietry demands of his people were met and kept close control of the numerous town sized factories that met this demand. Lar'inous was the leader of the Forge Caste, tasked with guiding the forges of the empire to construct the tools required by his people. Whether it be a lowly agriculture tool or a moon sized star ship Lar'inous directed the forges to construct his people's needs. Then there was Ard'jaous, the military leader and general of the Cakarian people who directed the giants fleets and armies of the Empire against any threat that appeared. At 2000 years old, Ard'jaous was the youngest to hold the title of Warmaster and it was well earned. This title not only granted him command of a million ships and men but also the responsibility of being the deciding 5th voice should the council ever become divided in opinion. While the Council often consulted Ard'jaous on many issues and matters of state for his opinion he had never been required to make such a vote and this knowledge weighed heavily on his mind as this meant that no less than 3 Council members had voted against interference to prevent the Nephrathim's destructive path across the galaxy. It was quite possible the decision was even unanimous. ----------- Mother, the leader of the Ardenti people sat silently on her crystal throne aboard her Flagship lifeship. Her entire body was white, a mixture of living crystal and other precious materials making up her genetic makeup, allowing her a great strength and durability as well as a freedom of movement. Her face was beautiful, icy white and eyes that seemed to pierce into the very soul of whomever she looked at. From over her shoulder a vassal race officer was typing into a console, the process of operating a console made entirely of crystal seemingly natural to him. His body resembled that of a Griffon of Earth Lore, except that this griffon stood on two legs and wore a uniform to denote him as a Military officer. “ Mother” He spoke, catching her attention as he turned and walked towards her, extending a taloned hand to present her with a datapad. “ The report as requested” She took the datapad from him silently and started to read it. “ So it is true then” She said after reading the entire report, her voice like soft silk yet somehow managed to cut clearly through the noise of the bridge as though it echoed from everywhere at once. “ These creature are coming through this galaxy and will destroy everything they touch” She handed the pad back to him casually, staring forward to the viewscreen that overlooked the cityscape of her ship. Bright white spiralling buildings, roads and structures littered the scene before her, a white gleaming metropolis stretching as far as her eyes could see, and above, the endless blackness of space. It was an image that could envoke emotion even from the Turok Vassal race. “ And what of the Cakari?” She asked after a long pause. The officer seemed to hang his head, uncertain he wished to report on that news but quickly gathered his thoughts. “ The Cakari have voted against interference, they will not help” If it were not for the liquid crystal, Mother's brow would have cracked as she frowned angrily. “ Those bloody fools, do they think themselves safe from these creatures? And what of Ard'jaous, I hardly believe he would simply sit back and allow all his work for a unified galaxy to be undone!” “ There is no word from him, my Queen. He has been in Council on the Cakarian Homeworld for the past 15days and does not answer our calls” he replied, still standing behind her to the side of her throne. “ I should not be surprised, Ard'jaous is as stubborn as the rest of those archaic relics he calls Councillors.” She paused in thought before huffing softly. “ Very well, begin preparations to leave. Once the Ardenti fleet and our Vassals are together we make for the Ardenti gate and jump to another Galaxy, I will not defend those that are foolish enough to stand before the tidal wave that approaches. If Ard'jaous graces us with his presence then I wish to be informed immediately.” The officer nodded and returned back to the console he was working from.
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Warrender
Rising Legend
Currently suffering longterm absence from the site
Posts: 698
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Post by Warrender on Mar 23, 2015 16:03:27 GMT
The room of the Galactic Council was awash with noise, shouting and arguments echoing off the walls and only a few scant words could be made out every so often. The room was cylindrical, tall and dull grey. Banners hung from up high in the ceiling, slowly fluttering with an unseen wind as huge spotlights shone down upon the seats below from their embedded position in the ceiling. Three platforms circled the room, each a different height as they descended towards the middle of the floor and allowing enough places for over 200 different representatives and ambassadors.
A loud *shume* sound cut over the top of the yelling people in the chamber, all chatter ceased quickly, their own individual disputes and arguments seemingly unimportant as they stared at the aqua blue light ring now shining in the middle of the floor. A bright blue light shot up from the floor in the middle of the ring to form what looked like a door sized sheet of blue light, suddenly moving backwards and the shape of a person seemed to appear as though the light was covering an invisible form. The wall quickly disappeared, leaving a blue body in the middle of the room. Colour spread across the image as the holographic form of Ard'jaous stood before them, the surge of power required to bring his form before them causing the holograms of all other members to flicker slightly. This was indeed the best way to ensure that all members of the Galactic Council could come together in times of peace and war. Each race had its own holographic chamber, gifted by the Cakari oh so many years ago so that all races could come together to communicate and discuss issues publically whether it be to join an alliance or oust another for a barbaric attack. Today however, today was when Ard'jaous would be forced to announce the news that left a bitter taste in the back of his throat, but he was a Cakarian, it was his duty to obey the Council no matter if he thought their actions misguided.
The council members all stared at Ard'jaous, waiting for him to speak. The holographic form scanned the room, looking at all the seated members, recalling old memories of discussions and even some humorous conversations from years gone by. He looked at the Cathar king, a humanoid creature covered in a multitude of coloured fur and a mane, great teeth and great claws on his paws were the common trait of his race that made them formidable close quarter fighters. He recalled when the Cathar king had jumped the barrier in jubilation after ousting the Ardenti Mother so that he could high five him. Having never heard of this custom he had ask the Cathar why he had hit his hand, causing a round of laughter throughout the Chamber from those that knew the custom that the great Cakarian General did not. He looked to the Ankon ambassador, a leather skinned creature with bat like wings, he remembered how their race had started out so aggressive and causing many conflicts before finding equal footing with those they had wronged. They were all quiet now, all of them worried fearful for what may befall their empires with the coming catastrophe.
“Council members” Ard'jaous said, his voice booming loudly and echoing off the walls, making his voice carry even more as he glanced around the room, ensuring to show he was addressing everyone as he stood there in an imposing stance, staff at his side. “I fear I come with grave news” Several members started to mutter between themselves, breaking the silence. Ard'jaous didn't react, they were entitled to be scared. “The Cakarian Council has decreed that they will not authorise interference with the Nephrathim fleet, you will stand alone”
Shouting erupted from the members of the Galactic Council, finger and claw pointing as they made gestures and protests. Several personal insults found there way to Ard'jaous but he ignored them, he had been given the glorious task by the enigmatic Council to be the punching bag of an entire galaxies fear and anger. It was only natural that these emotions would be thrown at him and not against the cowardly Cakari Council who refused to ever show their face to those they deemed inferior. He often wondered why the Cakarian people were even interested in watching their actions considering how little interest they showed in their affairs.
He raised his hand to show he wished to continue speaking. Slowly, one after another the members went silent, many expressions of fear and anger spread across their faces, or at least, those that had faces. He lowered his hand as the room finally fell silent and inhaled deeply. “It brings me no joy to bring you this message. In fact, it brings me great sorrow. However, all is not lost, our last report places the Nephrathim fleet at approximately 0.2 Galactic cycles away. This means we have time to prepare, and if you're willing, a chance to survive”
The muttering began again, people turning to each other, trying to second guess what the Cakarian general would say. “What is your plan, Cakarian?” came a shout from the second ring of seats, a grey face being with a single eye and 5 fin like blades running from front to back along its head looking expectantly towards Ard'jaous
Ard'jaous exhaled, he knew what he was about to propose would be a hard pill to swallow, even more so for the races that would not have the means to accomplish the task. He slowly glanced around the room and started to pace within the confines of the blue ring on the floor, his staff tapping on the floor though only some of the noise was transmitted through into the Chamber “Do not think me naive for what I am about to propose, I understand the full implications of what I propose.” He paced some more, his pauses common for whenever he spoke and helped drill in the seriousness of the words he spoke “The coming of the Nephrathim cannot be halted, it can only be endured as it has been by the Cakari 6 times, however, none of you are yet strong enough to weather the onslaught as we are and the Council has ruled to ensure our safety. Even if you were to unite under one banner you would not be able to stop what awaits you should you stay. What I am proposing is the most simplest yet the most difficult thing you'll ever do. You must convert every single means at your disposal to the construction of transport ship and the refitting of your military ships and carry as many people as you can through the Ardenti Gate to where they will be safe and able to build a new world. I will be unable to help you in this new world as my responsibilities lay here, with my people” Ard'jaous hung his head slightly, as though ashamed of his people and he silently hoped they would understand the difficulty he had in proposing such an idea.
Silence was all that remained in the hall, its members aghast and unable to speak at what had just been proposed, to simply up sticks and leave their homes without a fight, carrying with them as many bodies as could fit in the ships they had. For others the idea gripped their chests in pain for they knew they had virtually no ability to construct space craft to the sizes required, and the few ships they had were barely a match for most other races, they ran the numbers in their head, realising that even with a year at their disposal they would only be able to build enough ships to save a few thousands at the very most. Their largest colony ships could only hold 300 colonists. For others, anger crossed their brows, the very thought of just rolling over and running abhorrent to them, an unrealistic belief that they may be able to stand before the storm and weather it.
Another *shume* sound came from behind Ard'jaous, and those who weren't blinded by their own self grief averted their eyes to look. “So ... that is the master plan of the Great Cakarian Council?” Came a familiar heavenly voice as Mother stepped forward next to Ard'jaous, looking deeply into the slits of his helmet and into where his eyes should be. Being another Ancient it was decided that the Ardenti Mother should share a place in the centre of the Galactic Council as to be placed on a seat among the younger races was agreeably an insult. “After everything you have ever said and everything you and I have been through I find it surprising to hear these words come from your mouth. And what makes you think our gate is a commodity you can freely open for public use without even consulting us? With the grand fleet of the Cakari I would have thought you could protect this galaxy from harm, hhm?” Mother inquired, folding her arms, her eyes still piercing their way through his helmet.
Ard'jaous composed himself to all but stop himself grinding his teeth beneath his helmet, he mulled over his thoughts, never rushing into a response before thinking his words through. “The Cakari Council has decid...” “The Cakari Council are a bunch of misguided fools and you know it!!” Mother snapped, interrupting Ard'jaous mid-speech.
Ard'jaous instinctively growled, a reflex of his upbringing and honour that one does not insult the Cakari Council, the very fact that deep down he agreed with Mother was the only thing that stopped him from responding harshly. He chose instead to let the comment slide, denying it would simply degrade what he wished to accomplish here into a grudge match and to agree with her went against every fibre of his being no matter his own personal view. “The idea is of my own making and not of the Cakari Council, they have no say should the younger races agree to such a plan as their non-interference rule would contradict it if they did. As for offering your gate for use without getting prior consent, perhaps I was too zealous and I offer my apologies” Ard'jous bowed respectfully to the glowing white figure to show his sincerity.
Mother slowly walked forward and round Ard'jaous in a circle, looking up at the seats where the Council members sat silently and expectantly. As she circled Ard'jaous she sharply turned her head to Ard'jaous, her eyes squinted slightly as he stood motionless, arms crossed. “If we are to pull this off, and evacuate the inhabitance of this galaxy, we'll all have to work together. Personal agenda's, bickering rivalries and grudges will all have to be set aside so that we can all work towards the same goal unhindered” Many Council members nodded their heads in agreement, apprehension still very visible upon their faces at the monumental task. Mother smiled “I'm sure I could be persuaded to help construct ships for those who are not able to build a fleet quick enough if I were to receive the materials to build them”
Ard'jaous let out a loud "ha" as Mother continued to pace around him, smiling coyly as she watched him, as if daring him to be brave enough to defy his people and leaders and lend his support. Ard'jaous thought for a moment, slowly a smile spread across his lips, a way to get one up on the Cakari Council without breaking his orders came to him. “I think ... that considering the scale of forces my fleet will be faced with soon that we ought to spend the year conducting combat drills and increasing our readiness. One of those tasks will be carrying supplies to our ships in the field so they can effect repairs. If perhaps some of the younger races would be willing to let us use their space to conduct these exercises in their territory? And, considering many of my ships will be running silent, I don't think anyone needs to know if they just so happen to transport some cargo in between missions?”
“I think we have a lot of work ahead of ourselves” Mother spoke, and started the discussion to organise what would be perhaps the greatest migration of people in the history of the galaxy.
Throughout the next few months, any factory or industry capable was converted towards starship production with one goal in mind, to fit as many passengers on board as possible. Great shipyards that once built the space navies of great empires now worked around the clock to retrofit as many ships as possible to carry more passengers and supplies. Grand dreadnoughts became huge passenger liners, stretching the fine balance between fitting as many people as possible and having enough food to eat and air to breathe for what could be a very long voyage in a new Galaxy.
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Warrender
Rising Legend
Currently suffering longterm absence from the site
Posts: 698
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Post by Warrender on Mar 25, 2015 16:05:37 GMT
Yaraseff aboard the freighter Kebnezer, Trade Station 17
The Kebnezer dropped out of hyperspace, appearing several thousand miles from the nearest space station in Dre'kzl space. A sleek yellow craft, excessively long to allow for all the cargo pods to be grappled against its hull, Every 10 sections a light thruster array was present to aid in manouvering to prevent the hull from buckling from its mass and making it very unweildly to manouver.
Tapping a few buttons on the helm the Dre'kzl Captain powered down the Hyperdrive system and powered up the thrusters, setting a course to Trade Station 17. Blue and orange flame bellowed from the ships thrusters as the ship increased speed, heading to its destination. Captain Yaraseff was a Dre'kzl, a humanoid smoothed skinned reptile with long spindly arms and legs. two of the most distinguishing features of the Dre'kzl was the fact they had no visible neck and that no two skins were ever a like, sporting all manner of patterns and colours though the predominant colouring was light yellow.
The Dre'kzl people were pacifists, choosing a path of trade and peace over aggression and warfare. With their empire being in a central location within the galaxy they had a perfect vantage point to become galactic traders and even managed to steal the title from the former holder, the Gnolen's. Trading between all species regardless of agenda brought about its own rewards as everyone saw the advantage of not hindering trade relations with a Galactic power in trade.
Yaraseff had just finished laying in the approach vector to reach Trade Station 17 when he was violently thrown to the left in his chair, watching as several objects flew past him as they struck the wall of the bridge and a strong ache from his torso formed from the powerful jolt. Yaraseff was stunned, his eyes darting for a couple of seconds as his mind tried to make sense of it. A second later he was thrown violently to the right, the seatbeat digging painfully into his shoulder muscle. This time he didn't hesitate, something was wrong, very wrong.
Tapping rapidly on the console he stared at the display, 5 markers appeared on screen that were not there before, he could only assume the vessels had used the wake of his hyperdrive jump to mask their approach. Confirming what he had feared, he pounded the broadcast button from his communication system, his voice clicking slightly as he spoke quickly "This is Captain Yaraseff of the Kebnezer, I'm being attacked by pirates, please send..." His broadcast was cut short as the ship again violently rocked to the left again, a flashing red light indicating a system failure in the transmission. The rapidly spinning communication dish that crossed over the screen of the cockpit confirmed the reason and he hoped his message had gotten through.
Having nothing but defensive weapons installed, the Kebnezer was woefully equipped to deal with a full on pirate attack. Graviton generators and high density shields could all but deflect the incoming fire and keep him safe enough to reach Dre'kzl space. The delay in raising his shields though had already allowed a significant amount of damage to be caused against the hull and many systems were beginning to fail.
"Damn it, don't they know we're trying to save lives here?!" Yaraseff shouted even though no one was near him to hear his shout. He punched in some commands on the console, pushing the mains engines at the rear of the vessel well past their safety mark as he devised several evasive manouvers that would do little to prevent hits from this close range.
Several strikes from lasers bounced off the shields, causing the vessels interior to shake slightly. Yaraseff checked the readings, the first two hits had been designed to breach his engines, allowing them to raid his ship before help could arrive. The third shot had presumably been spent against his communications array when they realised he wasn't as helpless as they had hoped. With power failing and being far from help, it would be only a matter of time before he was dead in space and gasping for air while pirates ransacked his vessel. Yaraseff knew how important the supplies aboard his ship was for the other races. The Nos had virtually no manuafactoring ability and the few ships they could build could not be powered using the materials of their own world, without these supplies it could spell disaster for them.
Yaraseff thought to himself that although the Dre'kzl might be a pacifist species, they most certainly wouldn't let pirates profit at the expense of innocent civilians as he entered the command codes to ignite the engines, just in case he didn't make it. Another blast shook the ship, more violently this time, his shields were starting to buckle and his engines had just started an automatic shutdown as fuel started to pour out through the damaged engine and started to leak into the engine room. Buckheads closed and detecting no lifeforms the air automatically vented to prevent an explosion.
A grapple gripped his ship and he watched as the pull from a pirate ship decelerated the Kebnezer to a standstill. Having nothing else to do he prepped the auto destruct to go off at a push of the button, he'd wait for as many of them to come on board before detonating and taking the bastards with him. Yaraseff looked down, a picture of his family lodged firmly the panel of a console and he sighed.
Bright flashes caught his attention, he glanced up sharply to see what could only be described as a heavenly sight, 6 hyperdrive event horizons hanging in the black sky. 5 Dre'kzl patrol ships followed by a Ardenti Vassal ship erupted through the event horizons and headed straight towards him and the attacking pirates. He watched with a smile on his face as the sleek horseshoe shaped Dre'kzl patrol ships each fired a volley of gold orbs towards the trader ship, each one crackling as electricity rippled above it's surface, as soon as the orbs got close enough to an object lightning lept from it's surface to attack whatever it touched. These orbs were the mainstay of the Dre'kzl fleets arsenal, capable over overloading computer systems and weapon arrays without destroying the vessel itself. Yaraseff laughed as he watched the pirates attempt to flee, their ships crippled and unresponsive from the effects of the weapon.
The vassal ship however, had no qualms about weapons fire and pointed it laser weapons dotted along its boat like hull at the pirates ship and fired, a single beam of energy striking and destroying the pirates as they tried to flee. Yaraseff breathed a sigh of relief and transmitted a message via his ship to ship channel "Well you're a sight for sore eyes, any chance of a tow? My ships shot to pieces but I think the cargo is ok"
One of the Dre'kzl pilots broadcasted a message on the same channel, realising his communication array had been damaged. "Our sensors indicate heavy damage. Standby by Kebnezer, we'll put you under tow and take you to dock". Relieved, Yaraseff slumped back in his chair, he'd start on the repair work in a minute, he needed a few minutes for his hearts to stop beating so rapidly.
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Warrender
Rising Legend
Currently suffering longterm absence from the site
Posts: 698
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Post by Warrender on Mar 26, 2015 16:06:46 GMT
The Kebnezer arrived at the Trade station, towed behind the Ardenti Vassal ship that had obliterated the pirate ships so viscously. The Ardenti had pledged to lend military aid along all trade routes to defend against pirate attack, something Ard'jaous was unable to do and it seemed that the once Proud Warmaster who had led the invasion against the Kraw'ven was having his reins severely reined in by the Cakari Council.
The Trade Station was enormous, two giant halves of a ball split apart from one another and joined by a thick tube in the middle like a yoyo. From the middle tube came long arms that stretched out the same distance as the station was wide, each of these arms housed docking apparatus to dock 150 ships on either side and with having 8 arms in total the amount that could be docked at one time was 2400 small craft, less if larger ships were docked, a destroyer could use up an entire one side of a docking arm.
Yaraseff was flat on his back with his head inside a console repairing it when he felt the towing grapple detached, letting his vessel drift towards the docking area of the station. Several station bots approached his vessel, each grabbing sections of the hull and using their tiny thrusters in co-ordination with each other to guide the ship to the repair bay. He climbed out from under the console to look at the station, wiping his hands on a rag to remove the residue of what he had been repairing. Though the large glass window he could see small craft of all descriptions flying to and from docking bays. He had never seen the station so busy in all his years trading and a part of him felt sad, knowing that all this would be left behind in the evacuation.
After his ship was docked and a repair crew assigned to fix the damage, Yaraseff went aboard the station to submit his report to the station master. He had planned a quick rest and refueling before heading off to Nos space, however, the damage was so severe that there would be no option but to detach the cargo and assign it to another hauler if they were to meet the deadline. Yaraseff had expected to see the Captain of the Ardenti ship that helped save him so he could thank him in person. However, looking through the a small window he could see the collection of Dre'kzl and Ardenti patrol ships hanging in space above the Station, awaiting orders on where next to defend. The pirate attacks had been getting more and more severe with each passing month. With only 6 more months to go before the Nepthrathim arrived you'd think they'd see sense and join forces to help themselves in the long run rather than risk being wiped away when the Nepthrathim arrived.
Yaraseff jumped onto a transport cart, the driver instantly setting off towards the centre of the station before he had even managed to buckle his seatbelt. He bounced around slightly as the cart trundled its way through the thrones of people and piled up boxes of cargo and equipment. The place was bustling with activity with ships being loaded and unloaded. When the task of organising trade on such a huge scale was first suggested, it was only natural that only the Dre'kzl empire had the manpower and capabilities to make it happen.
As he reached the double set of airlocks to the main station the driver pulled over a free diagonal parking space to allow his passenger to alight. Yaraseff unclipped the seatbelt and jumped off, nodding politely to the driver and walked through the first of two huge airlock doors. The difference in noise caused his head to buzz slightly as he went from a room filled with commotion and mechanical equipment moving cargo to a huge space filled with loud chatter as people went about their day and conducting meetings while walking about the station. Either way, Yaraseff only had one goal in mind, the Darukk Bar, where he could go and get drunk while he waited for his ship to be repaired. While it was true that as a rule Dre'kzl don't drink, Yaraseff was a minority in that he knew exactly what alcohol he could drink without making his insides melt.
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Warrender
Rising Legend
Currently suffering longterm absence from the site
Posts: 698
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Post by Warrender on Apr 1, 2015 14:32:01 GMT
Cortez, Trade Station 17
The dark metal service ducts were a perfect route to move about the station undetected should one need to, and was where Cortez had chosen to watch the vents unfold around her. She carefully crawled along, heading towards an inlet of light from a vent set halfway up the side of the duct and used the emergency lighting glow to make sure she didn't tread on something she wasn't supposed to.
Carefully she peered through the vent at the throngs of people below, a huge habitat garden lay before her, large enough to house an entire arena and landing facilities but instead housed trees and plants of all description, in the middle of the expanse was a large lake with fountains and glorious marble like statues. There must have been at least a thousand or more people there. She wished she could remove her helmet to get a better look but it was sealed to her leather armoured suit to prevent her breathing in the air that was poisonous to her people. She grabbed the device wrapped around her upper arm, reading the gauges "Still six hours worth of air left, more than enough" she mused to herself.
Looking back to watch through the slits of the vent. She watched life moving about before her, taking note of all the different species walking around, completely obvious to their imminent demise as they went about there normal routine. Dre'kzl, Formains, Nos, Orca, even her own Ra'yta were there in order to give them plausible deniability. It wouldn't be logical to commit acts of terrorism on your own people after all, would it?
She didn't relish this task, and would have preferred not to have been assigned the mission, but orders were orders and she would carry out her mission at all cost, to do anything else would be heresy. Cortez pulled out the small hand held black cylinder from a side pocket on her armour, holding it in her hand ready to crush it in order to activate the detonator. As she continued to watch she saw the Commander of the Trade Station walk into the huge room, right on time and with his usual entourage of officers as he went on his daily inspection of the Stations facilities.
She crushed the device, hearing the mechanisms break inside, she merely had to let go for the signal to be sent, or rather lack of signal be sent. Cortez tried to lip-read the Dre'kzl Commander, he seemed to be making some big speeches to his officers about improvements he had planned to make on the station if time had allowed, his arms waving wildly as he articulated his words with exuberance. She waited for him to reach mid way so she could watch his face when from out the corner of her eye she spotted a group of children playing with a ball, shouting and chasing each other around the hedges and statues in some sort of tag game. "Sorry kids" she whispered, realising the cylinder, letting it drop to the floor. "You're in the wrong place at the wrong time"
Explosions erupted throughout the giant room, blasting through from pipework laying beneath the floor and sending a red mist high into the air. People everywhere started shouting and screaming, many instantly ducking for cover. The very ground shuddered from the explosions and Cortez stared at the Commander, seeing the look of shock on his face turn to that to one of horror as in unison people started to shriek in blood curdling cries. Cortez kept watching as people started to run in blind panic to the doors as others simply stood their, convulsing, clutching their faces as their skin started to turn to a syrup, dripping down their hands and arms. Many sunk to their knee's, the pain too unbearable to do anything other than scream as their insides began to liquefy as they breathed in the mist. Others, managing to reach the doors were already dead men walking, and now their panic would spread the biological weapon further into the station and making it harder to seal off infected area's in time to prevent continual contamination. Cortez half hoped the command centre would be quick to react and seal off the entire station at once, but with everyone infected dying almost immediately it would take time before they understood the full extent of what was going on.
Cortez slinked away silently through the duct system, although she had rigged her exit not to lock she didn't want to risk some protocol overriding her own override and sealing her inside, she also didn't want to get the suit contaminated as this could cause potential problems further on. With luck, she could reach the docking area undetected and escape on an outbound ship before lock down was initiated.
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Warrender
Rising Legend
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Post by Warrender on Apr 1, 2015 15:52:27 GMT
Yaraseff was enjoying a nice tangy tasting fruit drink when he felt the ground shake around him at the bar as glasses tinkled from the vibration. Everyone felt it and heard what could only be described as the sound of thunder. Conversations stopped mid sentence and poeple put down their drinks, looking around and to each other as if expecting by some miracle that someone was about to jump up and explain everything to them so they could continue their drinks. After a scant few moments conversation started up again, everyone turning into a private investigator as to what the source of the noise could have been. Yaraseff overheard several people theorising that a ship must have collided with the station to abruptly for the interial dampeners to counter, others theorised that it was just a generator packing up. Yaraseff however knew a little better, he recognised an internal explosion when he heard one and got to his feet, his drink completely forgotten.
He slowly wandered over to the door that lead back to the prominade, placing a hand on the metal door frame to lean out and look around for tell tale signs of what had transpired. He could hear something, something muffled, something that was getting louder, screams, those were screams and they were getting much louder now. Yaraseff looked down the corridor just as everyone else on the prominade and in the bar looked, watching as panic swept down the corridor like a tidal wave as one by one people saw what was happenening and started to run, pushing into people in a mass stampede to escape whatever this thing was that was happening as those running away started to stumble, feeling their skin melting and ploughing into other people, spreading the infection further. Sirens started to blare out from above to indictate an emergency, the speaker system equally blasting out a loud warning in multiple languages but Yaraseff had no need to wait around for his own language to come over the speakers to tell him what he already knew, to get the hell out of there!
Everyone in the bar crowded to the doors and windows of the bar to see what was going on and Yaraseff had to barge past them forcefully to get back into the room. "Is there a back door to this place?" he shouted to the barman. "Yes, through that door and straight ahead"" The Dre'kzl barman replied, thumbing to the door at the end of the bar. Yaraseff nodded, turning to face the group of rubber neckers amassing to watch what was happening and cleared his throat "Everyone! ... We've got to get out of here This way!" he shouted, thumbing to the entrance as had the barman. Yaraseff turned and started to run, he wasn't about to risk his life for anyone dumb enough to stay and gawk at the spectacle. Several other more sensible people left their view points, pushing past poeple to follow Yaraseff and barman through the door.
In all, three Dre'kzl, a Formian, two Orca and a Banshai burst through the door as it slid open and each began to run along the inner maintenance corridor that served the businesses, their footsteps clanged against the flooring and somehow it appeared that Yaraseff had become the ringleader of the group. ""I've got a ship at dock 137, we can hold up in there while we wait for the all clear on whatever is happening" Yaraseff called back to the group, the others following behind him as they apparently had no other plan of their own. Yaraseff glanced upward, the spinning blue emergency light above a bulkhead suddenly switching on as the bulkhead door slowly started to close in front of them. "They're sealing up this section!!!" Yaraseff yelled back loudly, each of them increasing their pace to reach the door before it closed and managed to squeeze through while halfway shut.
The corridor opened out to three times its normal size to house a set of metal stairs in the middle. Knowing the design of the station he knew that this flight of stairs served as the service route to the docking arm that would be his, considering he hadn't walked that far from the docking arm when he arrived. Running round to the otherside he twisted his body round so he could descend and lose as little speed as he could. The footsteps of the group pounded on each step as they descend and Yaraseff could feel the vibrations pounding in his feet. As his foot touched the floor of the last step and his motion carrying him forward he heard a yell from behind him and barely managed to turn in time to see one of the Orca falling forward from halfway up the stairs, as he fell he fell atop of the Orca before him, causing him to lose his balance and fall as well. With the weight of someone above him his face cracked painfully loud into the step of the stair, blue blood squirting out in a spurt in different directions. The Orca above rolled over the top of him and flew down the last few steps, knocking a Banshai off her feet by taking out her back legs. The three of them ended in a heap at the base of the stairs and the other instantly screached to a halt to run back and help them up.
The Banshai rose to her feet with the aid of the barman, the one Orca cradled his head as he was hauled to his feet and then let go to aid the unconcious Orca. "We ... We've got to leave him!" Yaraseff blurted out, not believing himself that those words passed his own lips as he stood by the door to the corridor leading beneath the Prominade. Glances were exchanged between the injured Orca and Yaraseff, then slowly, they began to move forward, following Yaraseff down the corridor to the Docking Arm.
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Warrender
Rising Legend
Currently suffering longterm absence from the site
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Post by Warrender on Apr 7, 2015 15:39:12 GMT
A thought occurred to Yaraseff as the group ran down the thin service corridor. If the station was being set to lockdown, the access to the arms would equally be locked down, meaning they would be trapped right under where moments ago stampeding civilians and workers alike had been running over, suffering from whatever the hell it was that had befallen them.
His prayers were answered when he saw in the dim light that the door was still open, a panel next to it seemingly open with wires hanging out. *It must have been a maintenance crew working on the door and leaving it in disarray when the alarms went off, what luck* Yaraseff thought to himself as they reached the next set of stairs and ascended. Two of the Banshai continued to help the injured Orca along as he cradled his head wound. Opening a floor panel the group climbed out into the main arm, among the ensuing panic they went unnoticed as they made there way to his ship, which by now would have most of its repairs completed and would allow them to wait out the emergency in safety behind airtight seals.
Reaching his ship he tapped in the code into the keypad inset into the door of the airlock, with a hiss the door clunked open and slid to the side and Yaraseff ushered them all inside. "There's a medi kit in the communal room, on the wall next to the water treatment apparatus" he yelled behind them as he moved to shut and seal the door. He glanced around at the general mess that had been left from both the damage in the pirate attack and that of the workmen. They would all be safe in here for now, the arms seal the airlocks when an emergency is sounded, though that bottom door could cause problems which is why he was happy to be sealed away inside his own ship.
Yaraseff made his way through the communal room and into the bridge to get readouts on what state his ship was in. As he approached the chair he noticed a body sat in it, slumped against the console. His body shivered with dread, hoping that whatever was out there hadn't somehow gotten in here. His thoughts were distracted as he gingerly crept forward to see blood dripping slowly off the console. He stopped in his tracks, realising this was different when he felt something cold press against the back of his neck and a soft click. "Make a sudden move and you'll join him" Came a female voice from behind. Yaraseff slowly raised his arms up in the universal signal for surrender. "I don't know who you are or what you want but this is no time for a robbery"
He heard the woman laugh and tried to tilt his head enough to see her without getting his head blown off. His eyes darted back straight ahead when she sharply replied "I know what's going on, and that is why I'm stealing your ship, though having you here is far easier than me try to hack into your ship, so you're going to pilot for me, and if you do a good job I proberly won't need to kill you". Yaraseff winced, lowering his hands to his sides and turning to face her directly, the Dre'kzl might be pacifists, but they certainly weren't cowards either. "Then we have a problem, we're docked, and in a state of emergency let alone a suspected attack no ship will be allowed to leave until the all clear is given" He folded his arms in smug satisfaction only to see the masked leather clad figure pull a group of small clear green control rods from a pocket with her spare hand. "Do you mean these? The things they use to control the arms remotely?" she cooed with smug satisfaction and Yaraseff could tell the look on her face despite the helmet hiding her face. "Enter the release command and the docking clamps will detach without issue. Then set a course to Blue Travins. Do it now!"
Yaraseff winced, he most certainly didn't like passengers, so having a gun pointed in his face and ordered what to do made him exceptionally uncomfortable. His mind raced for idea's on how to disarm this woman or to alert the authorities as he sat down in his chair and started the startup sequence. He knew he'd have patrol ships hot on his tail if he tried to leave, but at this stage he had no choice as he entered the commands to release the docking clamps. He prayed that the other passengers didn't suddenly burst onto the bridge as soon as they heard the engines start up, otherwise there was likely to be a few deaths he was sure of it.
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Warrender
Rising Legend
Currently suffering longterm absence from the site
Posts: 698
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Post by Warrender on Apr 13, 2015 15:48:55 GMT
Bartalo, Util Star System
Bartalo stood in the inspection room, staring through the huge glass window into the unloading area as several people offloaded the contents of a ship. They were K'klarion pirates and proud of it, and this was their latest haul in a long line of missions to achieve their goal. With the coming of the Necraphim and there inability to contruct vessels capable of supporting life longterm the K'Klarion pirate leader, Altran had decreed that they would hibernate, digging vast tunnels inside the astroid that served as there launch base and gather enough supplies to wait out the impending invasion so that once it past, they could emerge unscathed and ready to become gods of the new world.
It was an ambition plan, and Bartalo wasn't entirely convinced it would work, but having being branded a pirate he knew that if he wanted to take his lot with the other races he'd likely be put in prison and left to rot for his crimes, no, he would take his chances in the hopes of remaining a free man and would rather die than be left for dead in some alien prison. Bartalo was a Kal'mari, a proud and respected but equally aggressive race when provoke (description of appearence). Bartalo used to be a space navy Lieutenant and had been on the frontlines during the Ardenti-Cakari First Contact War, he had been ready to face off the Cakari alongside his allies the formains and prospected overlords when the orders arrived from the Military Commander, who had in turn received his orders from the Emperor of Kal'mari.
In those orders, himself and every other officer had been given the mandate to switch sides and attack their allies. He knew in his two hearts that this was there plan all along, to feign alliance with the Ardenti in order to be able to perform a pre-emptive strike. This dishonourable act as well as the act of firing upon their longstanding ally and friend the Formians, left a bitter taste in his mouth that he could never forgive them for, and in the aftermath of the battle Bortalo resigned from Military service to find his own path. All however, did not go as planned. Bortalo soon got into trouble, debt soon followed and before he knew it he was fending off all manner of thugs and low lifes trying to exact revenge or money from him for what he owed.
By sheer luck the group that caught up with him first were the K'klorians pirates, although suffering several broken limbs he managed to convince them that he could be of us instead of dead. That was 8 years ago, 8 years of reporting trade movements to the pirates in exchange for ammensty for the monies owed. As he gained more experienced so did his quality of information gathering and he even helped bring down some of the more heavily armed freighters. As he gained more respect so to did he rise in rank, no longer stealing information but organising those that do the stealing, leaving him with the time needed to use the gathered information to perform daring raids. But it was when one of Altran's 2nd in command betrayed them that Bartalo was thrown into the limelight. The Formian ran an entire arm of raiders using Bartalo's information to perform the raids, on one occasion Bartalo examined the intel received and his years of experience flagged that something wasn't quite right. When he brought this information to his superiors attention he was disregarded as being misinformed. Bartalo decided to take the risk and go over the Formians head, informing Altran of his concerns. Using his own channels, Altran did his own checking and discovered alarming information that the local law enforcement had been tipped off and would be laying in wait. After it was subsequently discovered that the Formian leader was behind it he was summarily executed and his position given to Bartalo.
As he stood staring through the glass he noticed one of his men hauling a very unwilling Kal'mari out of the ships airlock into the hold where they were storing all their stolen cargo. His men all wore the same uniform where possible, grey jumpsuits with baggy trousers, able to withstand sudden temperature drops for several minutes, the bright red pirate emblem standing proudly against the upper arm sleeves. The man being dragged was kicking and yelling blue murder as his captore continued to yell, pointing his stun blaster at him and trying to keep him from causing trouble. Another scream came from inside the ship as a Pendra woman was virtually tossed out in to the room, sprawling out on top of Kal'mari man, instantly grabbing her in an embrace and obviously meant something to each other. The Pendra were an intersting race, slender and smooth skinned, humanoid and standing at least 6 foot, their skin dark green skinned intwinned with teal patterned over their bodies. Their features flowed over where there noses should be but only the nose holes could be seen.
Pendra's were a very scientific race, choosing science as a means of protecting themselves and sporting a very powerful military presence. The Pendra currently sprawled out over the cargo hold was presumably a civilian with the Kal'mari man someone of significance. Bartalo saw the first pirates face and knew he was just about to lose his temper and shoot them dead on the deck. Although innocent casulties were a fact of life in the pirate trade it was generally frowned upon for two reasons, firstly, by the time you got close enough to the crew to actually kill them it generally means the damaged done to achieve this will have ruined most of the valuable supplies, secondly, killing civilians causes more outbursts from the general populations, forcing military forces in the area's to act more aggressively and focus more on patrols. So killing civilians is bad for business. On this occasion, for Bartalo there was a third reason, he didn't want to see two innocent people killed needlessly, yes he was a thug, yes what he did was immoral, but he wasn't a murderer.
As the stun gun lowered to the Kal'mari's head, Bortalo calmly pressed the intercom button and spoke in a very condescending tone "Do you really want to clean up the mess afterwards?". The man's attention darted to the glass in response, still clutching the clothing of the man, gun still in hand and pointing towards him. Bartalo sighed, his finger still holding down the button "Take them to the holding cells, we'll find out how much they know and have seen before I make a decision of what to do with them" Bartalo let go of the intercom button and kept watch as another 2 pirates came across to assist in moving the new prisoners to their holding cells.
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Warrender
Rising Legend
Currently suffering longterm absence from the site
Posts: 698
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Post by Warrender on Apr 17, 2015 9:30:48 GMT
Bajiri, Fleet Admiral of the Formian Navy
Bajira monitored the flurry of activity from aboard the Patari, a battleship for the Formian fleet. Bajira, a Formian Admiral, stood at 4 foot high, though their bodies on average 6 foot in length with a curved spine which led to their species adopted a stooped position. Dark Brown skin and very long slender arms were a trademark feature of their race. There bodies and faces are predominantly void of features, with no external markings or body parts to speak of, giving the appearance of being mouthless and genderless.
A flurry of small fighters flew past the main view screen, heading towards the rear hangers of the ship after returning from a recognisance mission. Although it had taken considerable time and resources, the Formian fleet was now back at full strength, and with the impending disaster they weren't taking any chances with the defence of their shipyards. They had hoped that they would be able to say almost 50% of their population by the time the Necrathim arrived. After several minutes the console bleeped, yet another report transmitted from the logs of the reconnaissance craft from another quiet mission.
"Admiral Bajira" came a shout from the comm station. Another Formian that looked identical to Bajira as well as every other Formian on-board did turned round to face his Admiral, it was amazing how they could tell each other apart so easily. Admiral Bajira looked towards his officer expectantly. ”We’re receiving a distress call from the Dre’kzl Trade Station number 17, they are experiencing some kind of terrorist attack and need help with evacuations and containment .. .. they are requesting all capable ships to assist"
Bajira turned and paced towards his chair as he pondered. Others would have presumably received the distress call before him due to his distance from Dre'kzl space, but likewise it would be a good opportunity for his crew to hone their evacuation skills. He made a conscious decision, he'd take the battleship and a few escort craft just in case they can be of help. Like many of the races, he understood how instrumental the Dre'kzl were in the trading of supplies at this crucial time, the loss of just one trade station could have dangerous repercussions
The giant battleship slowly turned on the spot, thrusters all along its sleek green cone shaped hull guiding its rotation as several smaller escort craft manoeuvred into formation, ready to move with its mothership. Once in position, the main thrusters engaged, increasing its speed until safely away from the shipyards for them to engage the hyperdrive. Once clear a blinding flash emitted from the rears of each ship and they seemingly vanished as the vessels velocity increased exponentially. Captain Bajira just hoped he would arrive in time to make a difference.
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Warrender
Rising Legend
Currently suffering longterm absence from the site
Posts: 698
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Post by Warrender on Apr 20, 2015 14:09:45 GMT
Yaraseff – Cortez, Kebnezer
With a gun pressing into the back of his neck, Yaraseff had little choice but to do as the woman said. She seemed confident that given time she could override the lockouts and pilot the ship herself, so the longer he gave her reason to keep him around the longer he'd have to stay alive until help arrived, assuming it would.
The engines whined as they powered up, causing the ship to shudder from vibrations from the unrepaired area's of the ship. Yaraseff keyed in the release codes and the docking clamps released. Without the control crystals there were no security protocols to override the release codes and was something that would have to be done at the dock mainframe by someone who knew what they were doing.
A thud sounded as the docking clamps released, thrusters slowly pushing the large merchant away from the mechanisms along the docking arm. No sooner had cleared them did the hails from the Trade Stations command centre start coming through, no doubt ordering the Kebnezer to re-dock and not leave until cleared. Yaraseff didn't even try to answer the hails, no doubt his captor wouldn't want to risk him blurting something out, so he simply thumped the accelerator lever forward, driving the ship to full speed.
A bleeping on the console saw that some of the patrol ships that had moved in closer were now altering course, presumably to give chase to the Kebnezer. Yaraseff knew that protocol demanded his ship be disabled or at worst destroyed if suspected of being involved in terrorist activity. He knew his own peoples ships would do the former, but the Ardenti or Cakari patrol ships would be more likely to do the latter, and that's what bothered him the most, he now had a good reason to evade capture if possible until he could get away.
The small bridge door swooshed open suddenly, a bemused Orca climbing inside. "What the hells going on, you didn't say anything about.." His sentence was cut short as a deafening gunshot echoed through the room. The Orca fell silent, blood trickling from his eye, after a scant few seconds he simply dropped to his knees and fell forward onto the decking. Yaraseff's head whipped round quickly as soon as he heard the shot, seeing the Orca fall to the floor, dead. Glancing upward he saw the woman was still looking in the direction she had just shot, he knew he'd have to act quickly.
Flipping back to his console he pressed a few commands, deactivating the inertial dampeners. By the time Cortez turned round to the sound of buttons being pressed she was too late to do anything as Yaraseff grabbed the vector controls and pushed the ship into a spin, throwing Cortez towards the bulkhead with an almighty thud of armour on metal, her gun dropping next to her. Before she could recover he twisted the ship the opposite way, causing Cortez to roll uncontrollably across the decking. As she rolled she managed grab the base of the chair, holding herself steady beneath the chair as it started to violently tip the other way. She growled angrily, gripping on for dear life with one hand as she pulled open a pocket to grab another pistol. As the ship spun again, her face being pushed into the leathery chair as she gripped on tightly, she place the gun against the only place she could and fired, her bullets splitting up into the chair and through his leg four times illiciting a scream from the Dre'kzl pilot.
Taking advantage, Cortez dragged herself to her feet, he vision slightly blurry and her head spinning from the sudden movements and impacts against the ship. Still holding her gun she pulled it upwards across her shoulder then brought it down with great speed against Yaraseff's head as he tried to attend to his wounds. With a loud thud, Yaraseff fell silent and slumped to the side, unconscious. Angrily she grabbed his still body and with a grunt, shoved him off the chair. She'd have to pilot the ship herself and those patrol ships were hot on her heels. She hoped that without the Cargo she'd be able to reach a safe zone to hyperspace jump before they were on top of her.
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