So much for Master Asia...
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TARAK
Rats. He was detected.
In hindsight, perhaps making use of the Force in some way would have done better, or to have had a false transponder signal to appear as another vessel on scanner, but he was prepared for neither of these. Stealth and secreting oneself quietly into an area were things that his Master was far more proficient in. At best, Tarak could lie and at least move quietly. And to the ship's credit, he was not immediately intercepted at this heavily-patrolled planet, but nevertheless it was not efficient enough. As the Tie Fighters began transmitting, the situation now lay solely in his hands.
What was the better plan? To use this ship's capabilities and lose them on the dark side of the planet in a trench of the city where they had no hope of catching him or even following? No. That will be a contengency. Tarak flipped his comm switch and spoke.
"I am Tarak. I come to battle against the Republic. I come for glory."
He could easily lose these fighters, or destroy them, but Master Diabolus was allowing him to play this as he wished, and he he liked the idea of appealing to the local government's desperate need for aid. If they refused him, they would find his reaction most disturbing...but that was for later. For now, perimeter security would have to be satiated, it seemed. he had hoped to avoid having to go through 'proper channels' and frankly get a drink on the surface before checking out his new territory. Patience was for the unambitious. They had best not delay him long...
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Singe
The Crimson Fang appeared out of hyperspace over Nar Shaddaa, a good safe distance from the planet, any shipping/smuggling lanes, etc. As a transporter/smuggler/repairman/saboteur himself, Goggles appreciate the giving and receiving of professional courtesies. "Alrighty...", he said to himself as he worked the ship's controls from his seat. All of the controls were personally customized so that he could reach them properly in his short stature, no problem. As he took them into Nar Shaddaa's atmosphere, the Tynnan kicked the switch for interior comms and held the mic up to his mouth.
"We'll be coming in for a landing now, so if you've anything loose lying around, ya might wanna hold it down 'till we hit the ground."
He switched that off, but then another transmission came in, and when he saw the frequency, he made an "Mmmph" sound as he recognied it. It was Cob Vagos, that Nemoidian crapsack. So full of himself because he use to be big in the Trade Federation in droid production, so angry because he'd gotten a roomful of company execs killed by the TAO-809 combat driod prototype when it went haywire. To this day, he doesn't know that Goggles had taken a job FROM TAO-809 to help him get his circuits fixed, and that his precious robot and bane of his career was a fully-autonomous rogue now. He hit ship communications now to receive.
"Meyran, you diminutive hairball, where are my power converters? I can't offload these refurbished speeders-"
"Heaps of garbage."
"If you had agreed to work on them, they wouldn't BE heaps of garbage!"
"Hah! Ready my pearly-whites, Cob. They're rusted, busted, and over-thrusted. No amount of rewiring is gonna do more than give 'em a couple weeks of use. New power converters'll just blow the manifold after a few good turns."
"That was the POINT, you insufferable-"
He switched him off. Cob was obsessed with building himself back to goods with the Trade Federation by any means necessary, and that included by quick-and-dirty profits. Truth is, Goggles had sold the power converters to another more-legit buyer. As he landed down in his parking space on the planet - premium paid up into next month - he came to Singe's door and knocked.
"You comin' out at all?"
The door opened, a little, and she could see the uncovered amber eye looking down at him.
"I'm tapping into the local net to see what's going on in this world, maybe find a place where I can establish-"
"Another hidey-hole? C'mon, Singe. You're the one who said ya needed to get out, so get out!"
"I dunno..."
"I know a place down the street where the fish is great, The Taste of Mon-Cal, they call it."
"...that sounds like they eat-"
"I know what it sounds like! It's not. Come on out an' eat something that ain't ration."
"Whatever happened to that famous Tynnan common sense?"
"I've been operating outta' this neighborhood a while now and I know all the sweet spots. So uhh...you comin'? 'Cause I'm hungry."
The Sephi sighed and opened the door. Looks like her pilot was taking her to a fish bar...
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Meanwhile, on Bespin...
Well, we say Bespin, but it's a gas giant. Let's face it, we mean Cloud City. That huge gas-mining craft hovered over the magnificent view that was Bespin, silently turning in profits and generally being a good place to put your feet up and shoot the breeze.
It is, in fact, where Tsot Hskoss would find his lead, that band of mercenaries that worked with Singe...
In the main cantina of Cloud City, the Trandoshan would indeed find Kiara Tosk kicking back and relaxing, feet up on a table with her Kel Dor crewmates. If Tsot was very observant, throughout the music and the conversations being held in said cantina, he might also note that several IG-Series droids were on location, as well. This was one of the few places they could actually go, because in accordance with the wishes of Lando Calrissian, they DO serve their kind here. Kiara, the somewhat-slim, bald, body-armored mercenary was, in fact, going on about Lando as we speak.
"...I mean, have you ever met the man? I didn't either, not exactly. I saw him at a gambling den on Dandoran, wiping out three of the best card players this side of Nal Hutta, and he was so smooth. I felt like if I tried to talk to him, the horns would just shoot right out of my head."
One of the Kel Dor said something in his own language through the air filter. The other one was piping in his drink.
"A few years back. I wasn't in charge of anything, then, like I am now. But even though I've been through alot between then and now, I don't think there's enough swoon in the galaxy for Lando Calrissian. That face, that smile, that swagger, that style... Whoo..."
There's a number of tabletop RPGs that use the double of your health points to determine how close you are to actual dying or something similar. I remember a case in D&D where our sorceror was currently a polymorphed sheep with an exploding potion strapped to him as he was tossed at a very strong assailant as a projectile. There was a large chance of him being mulch in the aftermath, but he was like 4 HP shy of double his full health count, so he was considered very thrashed, but recoverable.
Oh, so this is taking it that kind of RPG route. Okay, I like it.
A quick reminder that they were all definitely going to work alongside this Titan boy that they feared was given, so they'd better control themselves. They needed him, because he was an actual edge they had in battle, someone who had effectively turned disaster into potential recovery. That he wore the guise of the monsters they fought was irrelevent to the point, because what they needed and what they had was someone who could fight on their level, someone who would NEVER turn on the human race, since he hated the Titans with an unrivaled passion. If anyone in the entire Survey Corp or anyone else in service against the Titans was more singularly-fixated than Eren Jaeger, they had yet to make themselves known. The Elites would of course stand down, some of them actually looking a bit ashamed and apologetic.
But with that all said and done, it was time for a bit of show-and-tell. Hange would lead them to another part of the castle area, where they would find a fairly-open area...with Titans. Naturally, Eren expressed immdiate confusion, even apprehension, asking "What're they doing here?", to which Hange explained "They're test subjects." before turning and addressing them as though the two voracious killers were children. One was blonde and in a sitting position, 4 meters tall and with a vacant happy expression that DID seem almost like a child. The other was 7 meters, brown haired, and almost seemed like it was laughing as it lay there, trying to snap off Hange's legs when she approached it. They were tied down, of course. Tied down, nailed and generally experimented on to learn more about their kind. It was from studying Titans like these that she learned all that they know about the strengths and weaknesses of their enemy, more-so than what is learned in the field. She refered to them as Sawney (the blonde) and Beane (the brunette).
About this time, you'd probably realize that Kate had split from the group before they even arrived here, and as Hange was explaining her tests upon the Titans' recovery abilities along with their need for the sun and their lack of the food necessity despite their so-called appetites, she would then return...driving in a familiar cart. This was the one she'd been riding in, keeping an eye on its contents. At the moment, it did not contain any of the gunpowder that had been brought with them. Hange brought attention to this as she said "And now, I think we're ready for the demonstration. This is something that Kate and I have been working on.". The tarp covering it all was thrown back, and young inventor held up...an unusual device. It seemed somewhat tubular, and appeared to have some sort of a trigger. Those who were aware of the harpoon launchers used to secure down Titans of course recognized this as something like that, but single-barreled instead of seven, and therefore light enough to be carried by one person. Hange was outlining the thing because she was simply a better talker, while Kate already knew how best to operate the device.
"The more experienced will note how similar it is to our harpoon launchers for use with Titan-capture wires. However, the purpose of this device is far more dangerous."
The other things in this wagon were a set of harpoons, but not the classic ones. They were purpose-built things, with a spearhead that was not flat, but was more like a Philips-head screwdriver. Following that was something like an inserted sphere with a kind of tab on the top of it, and the rest of metal shaft to be inserted into the launcher itself, which Katherine now did.
"Because the size of many Titans have made most firearms useless, except in groups, we have no effective long-range weapon against the Titans other than cannonshot. This is about to change. Everyone get out of the way!"
This sudden shout was full of such excitement that some of them would surely jump, and then Kate leveled the device squarely at Sawney's stomach. There was the loud report of a harpoon launcher firing as Kate braced herself and fired it, sending the spear device into the Titan's stomach, followed by a muffled but still potent POW! as the stomach blew open! Sawney reacted with...maybe a little distress? Or maybe that was Hange's imagination as she went up to him, apologizing profusely and examining his gorge-leaking stomach. Everyone downwind, meanwhile, would have to hold their noses. That was rank! Hange turned towards the others, unaffected by this and with a devious smile on her face.
"Imagine that happening at the nape of the Titan's neck. The spear cuts open the skin to allow a black powder bomb, which has been ignited by the release tab immediately at launch, to pass right into the flesh and blast it from the inside! With the nape of the neck destroyed, the Titan dissolves soon after, and the one using the launcher can simply move on to the next target."
This was a new level of engagement. The device looked a bit bulky, and naturally it would take some getting use to in order to fire these things properly, but think of the level of ease there is in being able to plant yourself on a roof or even on the ground a safe disance from a Titan, shooting this thing, watching it fall dead, and then going for another exploding spear? This is what Kate had been working on after the Titan-Shredder. She and Hange, apparently, though that only made sense. How could she possibly be able to design something for a launcher device without being able to see the existing ones and its specs? Maybe through careful calculation? Ah, but that would be from scratch. No, thanks to her aunt, the work was done much faster...
But with that all said and done, it was time for a bit of show-and-tell. Hange would lead them to another part of the castle area, where they would find a fairly-open area...with Titans. Naturally, Eren expressed immdiate confusion, even apprehension, asking "What're they doing here?", to which Hange explained "They're test subjects." before turning and addressing them as though the two voracious killers were children. One was blonde and in a sitting position, 4 meters tall and with a vacant happy expression that DID seem almost like a child. The other was 7 meters, brown haired, and almost seemed like it was laughing as it lay there, trying to snap off Hange's legs when she approached it. They were tied down, of course. Tied down, nailed and generally experimented on to learn more about their kind. It was from studying Titans like these that she learned all that they know about the strengths and weaknesses of their enemy, more-so than what is learned in the field. She refered to them as Sawney (the blonde) and Beane (the brunette).
About this time, you'd probably realize that Kate had split from the group before they even arrived here, and as Hange was explaining her tests upon the Titans' recovery abilities along with their need for the sun and their lack of the food necessity despite their so-called appetites, she would then return...driving in a familiar cart. This was the one she'd been riding in, keeping an eye on its contents. At the moment, it did not contain any of the gunpowder that had been brought with them. Hange brought attention to this as she said "And now, I think we're ready for the demonstration. This is something that Kate and I have been working on.". The tarp covering it all was thrown back, and young inventor held up...an unusual device. It seemed somewhat tubular, and appeared to have some sort of a trigger. Those who were aware of the harpoon launchers used to secure down Titans of course recognized this as something like that, but single-barreled instead of seven, and therefore light enough to be carried by one person. Hange was outlining the thing because she was simply a better talker, while Kate already knew how best to operate the device.
"The more experienced will note how similar it is to our harpoon launchers for use with Titan-capture wires. However, the purpose of this device is far more dangerous."
The other things in this wagon were a set of harpoons, but not the classic ones. They were purpose-built things, with a spearhead that was not flat, but was more like a Philips-head screwdriver. Following that was something like an inserted sphere with a kind of tab on the top of it, and the rest of metal shaft to be inserted into the launcher itself, which Katherine now did.
"Because the size of many Titans have made most firearms useless, except in groups, we have no effective long-range weapon against the Titans other than cannonshot. This is about to change. Everyone get out of the way!"
This sudden shout was full of such excitement that some of them would surely jump, and then Kate leveled the device squarely at Sawney's stomach. There was the loud report of a harpoon launcher firing as Kate braced herself and fired it, sending the spear device into the Titan's stomach, followed by a muffled but still potent POW! as the stomach blew open! Sawney reacted with...maybe a little distress? Or maybe that was Hange's imagination as she went up to him, apologizing profusely and examining his gorge-leaking stomach. Everyone downwind, meanwhile, would have to hold their noses. That was rank! Hange turned towards the others, unaffected by this and with a devious smile on her face.
"Imagine that happening at the nape of the Titan's neck. The spear cuts open the skin to allow a black powder bomb, which has been ignited by the release tab immediately at launch, to pass right into the flesh and blast it from the inside! With the nape of the neck destroyed, the Titan dissolves soon after, and the one using the launcher can simply move on to the next target."
This was a new level of engagement. The device looked a bit bulky, and naturally it would take some getting use to in order to fire these things properly, but think of the level of ease there is in being able to plant yourself on a roof or even on the ground a safe disance from a Titan, shooting this thing, watching it fall dead, and then going for another exploding spear? This is what Kate had been working on after the Titan-Shredder. She and Hange, apparently, though that only made sense. How could she possibly be able to design something for a launcher device without being able to see the existing ones and its specs? Maybe through careful calculation? Ah, but that would be from scratch. No, thanks to her aunt, the work was done much faster...
I've barely read Bee-Oh's profile and I like this guy already.
TARAK
Transition was boring.
The act of travel, in any sense, was singularly-devoted towards arriving at a destination in which something of value may transpire. Without diversion, the mind goes to places unpleasant, as it would rather be anywhere other than here. It was only natural. This ship of his, the Cleaving Tusk, had neither diversion nor any intention of such a frivolous activity to be engaged in the first place. Spend his time focused on a waste of time during which his time was already used in getting to the place where his focus would rather be? He'd rather sleep. In fact, that is what he did. The cockpit did little more than accommodate pilot in the basic of ways, and so the large Zabrak simply sat, arms crossed and apparently asleep to retain more energy for when he was arrived.
It was only when he jumped in that he became more active, yellow-orange eyes snapping open.
The smallish black craft had dropped out of hyperspace on the fringe of Coruscant's System, and as expected, what it would find there was a case of the planet being guarded by Imperial forces - ISDs with possible Interdictor craft that would've stalled an approach by hyperspace, anyway. - and...while he did not spot the opposing fleet of the Republic in the system at all...you didn't need the Force to figure out that they were waiting for their time to strike. Still, even if they were around, Tarak needed not worry much about detection yet. Not to say that the craft was invisible, but the Cleaving Tusk was something around the size of a long-range fighter, alone, and colored black. It would register on any scopes that were looking for anything significant, but he'd only be staying in range long enough to know they were there, and he wouldn't be large enough to be of importance. Not unless either thought he was a recon ship, in which case the chase after him might become more interesting later, but for now...he had his instructions.
Upon assessing the basic situation, he was to make make contact with his Master. Tarak operated the holocomm...
As opposed to a cloaked or hooded figure, as one might expect, the figure that appeared in the image was that of an undisguised man who looked like he might be in some sort of uniform. Sadly, you couldn't tell what kind or see his face because the picture was blurred at the source. Theoretically, anyone could be at the other end of it, but Tarak knew. He could feel it across the hyperwave, the chilling touch of the Force given off by the Sith who gave him life.
"Master Diabolus..."
"Mr. Tarak... I trust you have assessed the situation with your own eyes?"
"I have."
"Your thoughts?"
"A battle is waiting to happen, though much of it will be in space, for a while."
"It is for such a purpose I designed that ship. Should it be required for combat, at least your vehicle of choice would be considered quality."
"Indeed. It is a pity the additions I wanted were not included."
"Vibroblading wings are not EXACTLY an efficient means of attack, Tarak. I shall see about an upgraded ship in due course, but in the meantime, you shall make planetfall and make Coruscant your battlegrounds. If there are any Jedi who wish to reclaim the planet, they will flock to this place, the sentimental fools. And if you find any Sith there bound by that outdated Rule of Two, no mercy. Sidious was a fool to cling to that notion and I WILL murder all who defy our purpose, especially with such pathetic reasonings hindering them."
Of course, having to kill a Sith who won't break with tradition WAS technically aiding in that tradition, but it was the Master's intention to wipe that notion out for the sake of the Dark Side's survival. There was only so much one could take, and the next generation needed to be guided properly.
"Will there be anything else?"
"No. You can appeal to the sitting ruler if you wish, perhaps put him in a position to grant certain resources in return for our favor, but otherwise exercise your will until desperation forces them to consider things OUR way..."
With nothing further to say, Tarak would take his ship to find a way to sneak on by into Coruscant's atmosphere, perhaps even undetected if he did so well.
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Singe
Transition was fruitful.
Corellian Freighters weren't much to look at, but they were spatious and had accommodations probably better than her own. Actually, hers weren't so bad, but it was the little things that you miss. For instance, the fact that the ship HAD a shower and that Goggles - Bless his little tubby self. - had no problems letting her use the ship's water supply for how ever long it took her to get properly clean was definitely a godsend. Of course, he insisted, due to his nose being offended, but it was still a decent gesture, all told. This said everything, really. How much she missed being around people, how much she had deprived herself, how much this change was necessary... But even as she relaxed and cleaned, Singe still could not remove that involuntary shudder from the incident, the water cascading over her, reminding the Slicer of her time in the bacta tank, back then. She couldn't see the old scar on her back, but she knew it was there.
It was later, when Singe was dressed and back in her gear again, that she heard the clatter of something moving in the duct work. She was browsing the hypernet when this happened. There was no way that the Tynnan had vermin on this ship, 'cause he was small enough to follow them into all the nooks and crannies, so- Wait, that's actually him, isn't it? This was soon confirmed by him attempting to make conversation.
"So uhh...since we got a while before we hit Nar Shaddaa, why the change?"
"You're not spying on me, are you?"
"Nah, nothin' like that. I'd lose a good client that way. I get curious, that's all."
"I guess I can understand that."
"You ain't my type, if that's what's bothering you."
"I wouldn't think so."
"Yeah, so...answers?"
"It's going to get harder to predict Imperial actions with the Empire fragmenting. I need to be closer to the action, now that they're hurting. In the meantime, I'm keeping my eyes open. I'm not really gonna be much of a talker for some hours."
"Alright, I'll leave you to it. Shouldn't be much longer a wait."
More ductwork scampering was heard as Goggles left her area. His race could be so strange, sometimes...
@Balthazar007 A thought: If exhaustion is affecting health, you may want to add a proviso that you aren't likely to exhaust yourself to death, and that you're mainly stunned if you conk out, whereas someone trying to kill you is a bit different.
@Balthazar007 Fortunately, I have one in mind. Aaand Niko's trainer actually has a superior version to boot.
The second.
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