<Eleven hours later>

Nightshrike

Zyra and Mika sat on the bridge together, currently the engineering was flying, Zyra was examining the sensors.  Since launch, the Nightshrike had moved into its pre-designated flight path and power had been pulled back to 30%.  To any casual observer who bothered to check their transponder, the ship appeared as the luxury vessel of a wealthy merchant.  The slow speed suggest either someone saving on fuel or too busy indulging in hedonistic pleasures to bother rushing to his next location.

Down in the communication room, Cor fussed over the myriad of systems.  R2-A9 was plugged into a scomp link near her.  Between them the pair had been watching the sensors for the convoy, checking and double-checking the jamming system whilst monitoring the power flow to Mark and Flash's fighters.  The two ships had been tethered to the Nightshrike and were recieving power and life support from the Shrike.

Zyra's voice came over the intercom.  "Convoy spotted, bearing one five four mark four two, speed point four.  Cor, alert the fighters please.  Mika align our courses so we intersect their path. . .here.  Do it slowly."  She pointed to the astrogation map and indicated a point that would require only a mild course deviation.




Fighter Pair
Arin and Sheila were tired.  Not only had they been in their respective cockpits for the past eleven hours, they were flying in close formation to hide their numbers.  It was work that required constant attention on the controls so the pair had not managed to get much rest since taking off.


Maintenance Vessel TX-4190-N
Grayrhynn had slipped the transport onto autopilot and had left it there for the past six hours.  The maintenance vessel, while small did have basic amenities at least.  Nobody envied the fighter jocks.  At least on this ship they could use the refreshser, drink caf and stretch their legs.  CC9 sat next to Gray in the cockpit whilst Xil and Devon prepared the boarding gear in the back.

Cor's droids had worked hard, assisted by some of the Talons.  They'd manage to craft three, full-head masks, resembling B2 super-battle droids.  For the civilian crew, they'd managed to make simpler versions, half masks, secured with rope behind their heads.  They were still fairly intimidating and served to hide the faces of the boarding crew.

CC9 rechecked their course.  They'd been partially shadowing the convoy since they'd spotted it.  Zyra had assured them this was not unusual.  Smaller vessels often stayed close to military vessels for the protection they offered.  Few pirates would dare attack a ship within sensor range of the Imperial Navy.  Today would prove the exception, the Talons planned to attack freighters being escorted by the Imps!


OOC:  Now is the time for any last minute plans, check, pep-talks, etc.

"Got it."  A quick calculation tells her the sort of course adjustment is necessary and Mika's hands play across e ships controls, slightly altering thei course .  "We got about 10 minutes folk."  She announces into thips intercom.
This message was last edited by the GM at 09:07, Sat 27 Oct 2012.

"Any sign on the number of escorting fighters", Arin asked through the intercom. Probably not yet - the fighters would be out of the resolution range for the sensors for a moment, but it didn't hurt to ask and with Cor handling things, Arin was pretty confident. She was the one he knew best and trusted the most - infact enough to have left her a "death letter", a file she was to read if he died and another one she would be asked to send to his mother. He went through the panels of his Headhunter for the fourth time already, but there was little else to do.

Xil sat back on his heels, with the checking of the boarding equipment now complete there was little to do but wait. He stood slowly, went and made himself something to drink and then reported to CC9 that all was ready.

"Convoy sighted, bearing one-five-four mark four-two, speed point-four.  No sign of enemy fighters yet, Raider Five."  Cor's calm eyes flick over a dozen sensor readings, keeping herself appraised of the situation.  "Jamming system primed and ready, all systems nominal.  Stay alert, it will not be long now."

She watches her boards which, amongst other things, hold the vitals for her droids.  If one of them goes down she'll know it immediately.  "Boarding party, status please."

"Boarding party's status remains unchanged," CC9 responds immediately.  "Weapons systems functional, all boarding raiders prepared."

The droid says this with absolute certainty.  They are ready.  They have trained for this.  The boarding team is adequate.

CC9 has made sure every member of the boarding team is suitably kitted out.  Each combat-ready raider bears:
* medium battle armour;
* a heavy blaster pistol;
* a blaster rifle;
* 5 pairs of binder cuffs (the B1 droids do not have these);
* 3 medpaks;
* 1 medkit, and;
* 2 power packs.

Any additional weaponry and gear brought by the raiders is up to them. In addition each team has a grenade launcher and five mini stun grenades.  The B1 droids carry a riot shield each; two spare riot shields are also packed.

Xil, Devon and Grayrhynn also each have some of the meanest-looking B2-droidish masks this side of the Empire.

In addition each organic member of the boarding party (including the civilians) wears a full flight suit against decompression.  Rebreathers are available but unlikely to be necessary as the flight suits contain 10 hours of life support.

Mark switched off his portable music player and began readying himself for the mission.  When the time came, he'd need to power up quickly.

"Acknowledged.  Five, remember not to break until the order is given.  Nightshrike, you need to tell us when to go.  Get us in as close as you can but the moment we're compromised we need to attack."

"Understood, Raider Lead," Cor replies mildly.

"No worries, Raider Lead. We'll be sticking like Corellian Bloatflies in the Rock Lizards tongue."
This message was last edited by the player at 11:31, Sat 27 Oct 2012.

Cor blinks a few times and then sets up a couple of intranet searches for 'Corellian bloatflies' and 'rock lizard's tongue' to run while she monitors the equipment.  Humans have such odd similes.

OOC: CC9's team need to indicate what gear they are taking on the mission (i.e. bringing anything extra, leaving anything CC9 allocated you behind).  If you don't indicate what you take, you'll be equipped with CC9's standard load-out.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:13, Sat 27 Oct 2012.

Alert: Nightshrike

In the Nightshrike's cockpit, Zyra and Mika countinued to casually close the range with the Imperial convoy.  Down in the comms room, Cor worked to enhance images of the convoy without making it obvious.  A direct sensor probe would give them away.

Slowly Cor was able to make more sense of the images.  There were definitely four tankers in the convoy.  Occasionally she picked up a blip that had to be the 'escort' but without a direct scan she couldn't tell if it was one ship or a dozen.

Suddenly a message came over the subspace radio on a general channel.

"Attention Private Vessel 65471-85X, this is Imperial Convoy Theta Four.  Our sensors show you on an bisecting course with us.  Alter course by at least 30 degrees immediately and maintain a range of no closer than two hundred kilometres.  Failure to comply will result in your ship being impounded and your crew arrested."
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:19, Sun 28 Oct 2012.

Zyra checked the sensors.  "We're still too far out." she said to Mika.  "Hold course."

She flicked on the intercom.  "Heigran, you're on.  Stall them as long as you can.  Cor, supply sensor data to Arin's group.  When the shooting starts they may have to fire their missiles with your sensor data, they might not have time for their own."

The external comm activated.

"Arrr, what you be bothering me for sonny?  Don't ya know I've bin sailin' these lanes for ny on fifty years?  I don't need some lick-spittle boy, barely off his mother's teat telling me where to go.  Why I should sail over and gives you a floggin' ya scurvy knave!"

He sounded like a bad mix of all the old sea captain and pirate stereotypes you've seen in B-grade holomovies.



Entertain Roll: 27.  Oscar winning performance maybe?

Cor, trying to keep her voice level, says over internal comms, "Feeding sensor data.  Raiders, data incoming.  Four tankers, escort number still undetermined."  She feeds the sensor data through, keeping it as realtime as possible.

Grayrhynn sits beside the Droid in silence, handling the mask given to him. At his side, the only extra gear he brought was his bowcaster. The wookie looked upon the ships with a detached feeling. His mind was fully on his task.


...he was ready.


other than the specific gear, grayrhynn will leave the blaster rifle behind and bring his bowcaster

As Arin receives the sensory data, he begins to dissect it as efficiently as possible. He tries various settings to enhance the imaging in order to get betterresolution out of the data and thus to discern the numbers of the escorting fighters.

Xil settles the various bits of gear that he is carrying so that they sit comfortably and don't impede his movement. He has his E-11 blaster rifle in his hands as his primary weapon.

He notes that Gray hasn't any extra gear other than his bowcaster. Looking at what is left to take, he hands the grenade launcher and mini-grenades to him "Here, I want you to take these as well. Make good use of them."

OOC: people should probably update their currently equipped gear in that thread to make it easier to see who has what. Just a suggestion."

That would indeed be the wisest move

Devon was sat with various chunks of his gear laid out on a workbench, organizing them.
His weapons he had already examined and set aside and now he was carefully organizing his toolkit - sorting through the various implements and making sure each was tucked away in its own little pouch or pocket - hopefully he wouldn't have to go rummaging for a lost spanner or dataprobe when it mattered.  Anyone watching Devon work would notice that his toolkit seemed to have a few odd objects in it in addition to all the stuff one might expect.  The number of zipties of various sizes was quite spectacular, then there was the tube of glue-anything-to-anything resin and for some reason a small empty glass bottle.

Having finished repacking his toolkit, Devon picked up the grenade launcher CC9 had given him and hefted it, getting a feel for the weight.  Then he spent a few moments getting everything settled so that things wouldnt tangle or snag on each other (or him), pulled on his battledroid mask and ambled up to the bridge.

"Boo." he growled at the others and eyed them menacingly "I'm scary."  sliding the mask up on his forehead Devon leaned forward and peered at sensor readings.
"How we doing?  I see they're not shooting at us yet..."