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*Raaaaaaaaaaant*
On which note, shall I move my CS from the interest check over to here?
Name: Rahab/Gwyndolynn
Species: Duke (Warrior Devil)
Appearance:
Age: 3241
Gear:
Temperance: A massive two-handed sword gifted to Rahab upon his defection from the Hellish host, it is a point of pride and shame for the warrior devil, a nearly unbreakable arm, capable of cutting the hardest of defenses either angels or devils are capable of bringing to bear against it. It is a tool of great power, often used sparingly by the reformed Duke, as he is far less inclined to lunge into battle as once may have been.
His suit of armor constantly adorns Rahab's body when he is in his natural shape, it is practically an extension of his own flesh, embodying his nature as a creature of battle and war. While nothing overtly magical is noticeable about this suit, it is naturally superior to anything mortals could forge or create in terms of protection , likely capable of shrugging off the worst of their weaponry and more than enough of any supernatural attack. It hardly makes its wearer invulnerable, however.
In his human shape, in the persona of Gwyndolynn, she prefers casual wear, comfortable shoes, tops, jeans and jackets in many variable combinations of colors and styles, but typically laidback in theme. He is more than capable of wielding Temperance in this shape, about as effectively. Whether or not it is this body under the armor once it is donned and his wings spread is anyone's guess.
Powers: Rahab is possessed of inhuman physical might, more than capable of simply overpowering most of his peers in either shape he's taken.
His blood has a mercurial appearance, and has strong enough venomous properties that it can debilitate, or even outright kill. Often he uses his own wounds to coat his weapon in it.
As a one-time devil of immense pride and influence, he is capable of extending his presence to a supernatural level, inspiring fear or courage to those around him.
Other: Chocolate. With chocolate chips. And chocolate syrup. You know, chocolate - it's good.
Species: Duke (Warrior Devil)
Appearance:
Age: 3241
Gear:
Temperance: A massive two-handed sword gifted to Rahab upon his defection from the Hellish host, it is a point of pride and shame for the warrior devil, a nearly unbreakable arm, capable of cutting the hardest of defenses either angels or devils are capable of bringing to bear against it. It is a tool of great power, often used sparingly by the reformed Duke, as he is far less inclined to lunge into battle as once may have been.
His suit of armor constantly adorns Rahab's body when he is in his natural shape, it is practically an extension of his own flesh, embodying his nature as a creature of battle and war. While nothing overtly magical is noticeable about this suit, it is naturally superior to anything mortals could forge or create in terms of protection , likely capable of shrugging off the worst of their weaponry and more than enough of any supernatural attack. It hardly makes its wearer invulnerable, however.
In his human shape, in the persona of Gwyndolynn, she prefers casual wear, comfortable shoes, tops, jeans and jackets in many variable combinations of colors and styles, but typically laidback in theme. He is more than capable of wielding Temperance in this shape, about as effectively. Whether or not it is this body under the armor once it is donned and his wings spread is anyone's guess.
Powers: Rahab is possessed of inhuman physical might, more than capable of simply overpowering most of his peers in either shape he's taken.
His blood has a mercurial appearance, and has strong enough venomous properties that it can debilitate, or even outright kill. Often he uses his own wounds to coat his weapon in it.
As a one-time devil of immense pride and influence, he is capable of extending his presence to a supernatural level, inspiring fear or courage to those around him.
Other: Chocolate. With chocolate chips. And chocolate syrup. You know, chocolate - it's good.
On another note, I'm interested in joining in myself.
Any time for me to butt in and add a character of my own into the mix?
After quite the delay, there's the event post up and sitting about being shiny.
The Tiraahn System
A'sha stared at her passenger for a long moment in silence. "You will tell me everything you know about your cargo, doctor." she re-iterated, her eyes resting on his, her will attempting to gently nudge him into compliance.
Sleep gone from his mind as adrenaline kicked him awake, he looked nervous and swallowed a big lump down his throat. "I... asked for no questions captain and I like to keep the contents of my cargo to myself. Please i mean you no harm and all I can say is... that there is a reason I want to get away from republic space so please help me." He looks pleadingly, his hands tightening into fists, clenched with either rage or desperation. He then widened his eyes at a idea, "Can't you.. .create a distraction, create chaos so that they are too occupied with what would be transpiring here to send a message to the next system about our identity while we get away?" He gestured to the space beyond were the chase was taking place. "Clearly that freighter thinks he can outrun the republic forces, why can't we?"
There was a tense silence for a few moments after those words left her. "You'd best sit down and hold on to something."
For an instant, the man seemed relieved, before his forehead creased again with worry, yet he complied, stepping back, throwing worried glances to the doors leading out of the cockpit.
A'sha again surveyed the scene, glancing from monitor to monitor, and out the viewport. The republic's ships were still in pursuit of the one, presumably, smuggler who was trying to make a run for it. She framed he chin with a hand, staring pensively at the controls of her ship. The awkward silence continued as such for a minute that seemed like an hour, and the passenger seemed about ready to speak again, before the hands flitted over the controls in a flash and the Hound jerked onward in sudden acceleration. Speeding past several civilian craft waiting in line to move on to the next system, however, they were more than a little conspicuous.
A glance toward the sensor screen showed a handful of V-wings had broken off from the main body of the customs ships and were speeding to catch up. The smaller, more agile ships would undoubtedly close the distance quickly. The last thing she wanted was to start trading flak with the Republic. Just then, the familiar voice of her mechanic chirped over the ship's intercom.
"Please tell me that was some other ship bumping into us and we're not trying to speed our way past customs."
"I wouldn't have turned down some credits in compensation if the paint got scratched up a bit. But no, we're actually trying to speed our way past customs." she replied nonchalantly, her hands idly slipping over to direct the targeting computer, and the Hound's guns.
"I've never been arrested in my life!"
"There's a first time for everything. Builds character." and with a few quick adjustments, the Hound's precision beam lasers were locked on to empty space, practically meters from the hull of a nearby ship.
"Please tell me I'm not actually getting arrested."
"...Probably not."
"Just so you know, if they don't blow us out of the stars, I'm telling them you kidnapped me."
"Your trust in me is touching." A'sha mused, dryly and her fingertip hovered over the designated firing button. "You just hold on to something now."
And with a simple push of a button, a discharge of concentrated energy shot out across the empty space. It was close enough to let everybody in line know there were shots being fired, and far enough away that it didn't melt a hole through anyone waiting in line for the hyperspace lane. But like a shot in the dark, the effects were immediate; one after another the ships broke off from their spots and sped in all manner of different directions. Panic reached its height in a manner of seconds as every ship made evasive maneuvers in case they were the ones being fired upon. Some veered too far in the wrong direction and ended up slamming into one another, within moments the front of the line had turned into a barricade for the Hound itself.
Changing course to go around them would only give the fighters more time to catch up, she had to go through the mass of panicked vessels. A'sha's eyes shot from one ship to another, and those drifting like lazy chunks of asteroid, too afraid to try and move through the crowd. There were too many to maneuver through.
"Silla, I need you on the tractor beam." she uttered into the intercom, hands still on the controls, making minute corrections, eyes front.
"I can see what you've done out there, how is the tractor beam supposed to-" her mechanic's voice cut off suddenly, followed an instant later by a gasp of realization. "I'm on it."
With a humorless snerk the Hound's pilot guided the ship to and fro, avoiding several stray vessels, but unerringly drawing closer to the insurmountable mass ahead. Her gut was telling her to brace for impact and she desperately wanted to curl up, as if that would somehow lessen the damage a collision in the midst of that swarm of ships would cause. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped harder onto her controls, glancing every other second between the viewport and the intercom. They were thick into it, enough that veering off would probably cause a crash just as well as speeding forward.
"There, it's done!" like a shot in the dark, Silla's voice shouted over the comm.
And just as quickly, A'sha activated the Hound's tractor beam. And somewhat to her surprise, she found that reverse-engineering such a device was far from impossible, as one vessel after another slowed down into a slow halt on their course toward the Hound as they made their way through the cloud.
"Targeting computer's probably blowing out smoke by now." the pilot muttered to herself as she watched one collision after another be averted and moments later, all there was before her was the wide expanse of space. Stars far and wide, and not a single ship in sight. Her shoulders slumped as a wave of relief washed over the woman at the helm, for a moment, it seemed as if they were in the clear.
Until, of course, two little dots made their way past the "traffic jam" they'd caused, speeding unerringly toward the Hound again. A'sha's eyes furrowed as she stared at the screen. She had to question the sanity of the two figher pilots that were still in pursuit. The Hound was larger and far-more heavily armed than them, if they intended to engage her, they wouldn't be able to dance around her shots forever. They were drawing closer, however and the navicomputer was still alight, setting the coordinates for their jump. She preferred shooting at Republic ships to being ripped half-way across the Galaxy in a botched hyperspace jump, however. The turret bearing the Hound's flak guns spun about, aiming at the pair of tenacious pilots. Much like before, A'sha's fingertip was hovering over the last key, if she was lucky a volley would scare them off without causing any damage.
She felt luckier, however, when the navicomputer chirped up, its task finished, their course set. With a pull of a lever, the stars bled into each other, each turning into a streak of light as if they themselves were speeding across space, and the feeling that everything else was slowing down, rather than the Hound itself speeding up. The warping tunnel of Hyperspace lit up the cockpit moments later and finally the mercenary could afford to relax. She cupped her face with a hand and rubbed her cheek for a few seconds.
"That went better than I thought it would. Nothing exploded and I won't even have to re-paint the hull. Here's hoping there isn't a blockade waiting for us when we come out the other end, doctor." she mused, not turning about to look at the man. She reclined in her seat, and stared out at the endlessly shifting tunnel and waited. By her reckoning, this was far from the first hitch they'd run into.
A'sha stared at her passenger for a long moment in silence. "You will tell me everything you know about your cargo, doctor." she re-iterated, her eyes resting on his, her will attempting to gently nudge him into compliance.
Sleep gone from his mind as adrenaline kicked him awake, he looked nervous and swallowed a big lump down his throat. "I... asked for no questions captain and I like to keep the contents of my cargo to myself. Please i mean you no harm and all I can say is... that there is a reason I want to get away from republic space so please help me." He looks pleadingly, his hands tightening into fists, clenched with either rage or desperation. He then widened his eyes at a idea, "Can't you.. .create a distraction, create chaos so that they are too occupied with what would be transpiring here to send a message to the next system about our identity while we get away?" He gestured to the space beyond were the chase was taking place. "Clearly that freighter thinks he can outrun the republic forces, why can't we?"
There was a tense silence for a few moments after those words left her. "You'd best sit down and hold on to something."
For an instant, the man seemed relieved, before his forehead creased again with worry, yet he complied, stepping back, throwing worried glances to the doors leading out of the cockpit.
A'sha again surveyed the scene, glancing from monitor to monitor, and out the viewport. The republic's ships were still in pursuit of the one, presumably, smuggler who was trying to make a run for it. She framed he chin with a hand, staring pensively at the controls of her ship. The awkward silence continued as such for a minute that seemed like an hour, and the passenger seemed about ready to speak again, before the hands flitted over the controls in a flash and the Hound jerked onward in sudden acceleration. Speeding past several civilian craft waiting in line to move on to the next system, however, they were more than a little conspicuous.
A glance toward the sensor screen showed a handful of V-wings had broken off from the main body of the customs ships and were speeding to catch up. The smaller, more agile ships would undoubtedly close the distance quickly. The last thing she wanted was to start trading flak with the Republic. Just then, the familiar voice of her mechanic chirped over the ship's intercom.
"Please tell me that was some other ship bumping into us and we're not trying to speed our way past customs."
"I wouldn't have turned down some credits in compensation if the paint got scratched up a bit. But no, we're actually trying to speed our way past customs." she replied nonchalantly, her hands idly slipping over to direct the targeting computer, and the Hound's guns.
"I've never been arrested in my life!"
"There's a first time for everything. Builds character." and with a few quick adjustments, the Hound's precision beam lasers were locked on to empty space, practically meters from the hull of a nearby ship.
"Please tell me I'm not actually getting arrested."
"...Probably not."
"Just so you know, if they don't blow us out of the stars, I'm telling them you kidnapped me."
"Your trust in me is touching." A'sha mused, dryly and her fingertip hovered over the designated firing button. "You just hold on to something now."
And with a simple push of a button, a discharge of concentrated energy shot out across the empty space. It was close enough to let everybody in line know there were shots being fired, and far enough away that it didn't melt a hole through anyone waiting in line for the hyperspace lane. But like a shot in the dark, the effects were immediate; one after another the ships broke off from their spots and sped in all manner of different directions. Panic reached its height in a manner of seconds as every ship made evasive maneuvers in case they were the ones being fired upon. Some veered too far in the wrong direction and ended up slamming into one another, within moments the front of the line had turned into a barricade for the Hound itself.
Changing course to go around them would only give the fighters more time to catch up, she had to go through the mass of panicked vessels. A'sha's eyes shot from one ship to another, and those drifting like lazy chunks of asteroid, too afraid to try and move through the crowd. There were too many to maneuver through.
"Silla, I need you on the tractor beam." she uttered into the intercom, hands still on the controls, making minute corrections, eyes front.
"I can see what you've done out there, how is the tractor beam supposed to-" her mechanic's voice cut off suddenly, followed an instant later by a gasp of realization. "I'm on it."
With a humorless snerk the Hound's pilot guided the ship to and fro, avoiding several stray vessels, but unerringly drawing closer to the insurmountable mass ahead. Her gut was telling her to brace for impact and she desperately wanted to curl up, as if that would somehow lessen the damage a collision in the midst of that swarm of ships would cause. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped harder onto her controls, glancing every other second between the viewport and the intercom. They were thick into it, enough that veering off would probably cause a crash just as well as speeding forward.
"There, it's done!" like a shot in the dark, Silla's voice shouted over the comm.
And just as quickly, A'sha activated the Hound's tractor beam. And somewhat to her surprise, she found that reverse-engineering such a device was far from impossible, as one vessel after another slowed down into a slow halt on their course toward the Hound as they made their way through the cloud.
"Targeting computer's probably blowing out smoke by now." the pilot muttered to herself as she watched one collision after another be averted and moments later, all there was before her was the wide expanse of space. Stars far and wide, and not a single ship in sight. Her shoulders slumped as a wave of relief washed over the woman at the helm, for a moment, it seemed as if they were in the clear.
Until, of course, two little dots made their way past the "traffic jam" they'd caused, speeding unerringly toward the Hound again. A'sha's eyes furrowed as she stared at the screen. She had to question the sanity of the two figher pilots that were still in pursuit. The Hound was larger and far-more heavily armed than them, if they intended to engage her, they wouldn't be able to dance around her shots forever. They were drawing closer, however and the navicomputer was still alight, setting the coordinates for their jump. She preferred shooting at Republic ships to being ripped half-way across the Galaxy in a botched hyperspace jump, however. The turret bearing the Hound's flak guns spun about, aiming at the pair of tenacious pilots. Much like before, A'sha's fingertip was hovering over the last key, if she was lucky a volley would scare them off without causing any damage.
She felt luckier, however, when the navicomputer chirped up, its task finished, their course set. With a pull of a lever, the stars bled into each other, each turning into a streak of light as if they themselves were speeding across space, and the feeling that everything else was slowing down, rather than the Hound itself speeding up. The warping tunnel of Hyperspace lit up the cockpit moments later and finally the mercenary could afford to relax. She cupped her face with a hand and rubbed her cheek for a few seconds.
"That went better than I thought it would. Nothing exploded and I won't even have to re-paint the hull. Here's hoping there isn't a blockade waiting for us when we come out the other end, doctor." she mused, not turning about to look at the man. She reclined in her seat, and stared out at the endlessly shifting tunnel and waited. By her reckoning, this was far from the first hitch they'd run into.
Due to finals and whatnot, I've been impeded up to this point. Tomorrrow is the final uh...final, so after that's done, I'll get my handy notepad file and work up a post.
The Tiraahn system
So far so good. Several hyperspace jumps without incident and the Hound was handling well. A'sha set the navicomputer's coordinates for the next lane and left the ship to fly itself. The Republic had a strong presence in the area, for now she needn't worry about any hostile surprises and they were close to the hyperspace lane, a few minutes and they'd be one more jump closer to their destination. A'sha stood from her chair in the cockpit, stepping out along the corridors. She spared a glance into the crew quarters. Their passenger was sleeping soundly, a rare occasion – the man barely ever left his cargo out of sight. This was her chance to take a closer look at it.
Rounding the corners of the corridors, she stopped at the cargo bay doors, throwing a glance over her shoulder before stepping in and making straight for the container their contractor had brought aboard. It was large, but securely sealed, and the doctor would probably be able to tell if it were opened without his permission, it was certainly a state-of-the-art box, if ever there was such a thing. She needn’t pry it open to catch a glimpse of its significance, however. A’sha closed her eyes as she pressed an open palm against the container’s cold surface. Her mind stilled, and her senses reached out, tracing along the threads of the Force, that bind everything and everyone.
There he was...the young doctor, feverishly tapping away at the container's panel, checking up on it, hour after hour, like a man possessed. Sweat is beading down his forehead. He's not in his right mind. What is he afraid of?
The images ceased as A'sha pulled her hand away and gazed intently at the container. Her lips pursed and she contemplated opening it then and there, as her hand drifted to a control panel on the side of the device. The sound of the cargo bay doors opening made her bring her hand away as if it were burnt and she turned about sharply, an excuse ready in her mind, before she saw her mechanic standing at the threshold. With a sigh, her frame relaxed and she took a few steps closer.
"What is it, Silla?"
"We've got a problem, we're in queue for the lane, but there's Republic ships here and they're hailing us." she seemed worried, her eyes glanced aside from her partner to the container.
The jedi lightly placed a hand on her mechanic's shoulder, giving her a reassuring, perhaps even somewhat cocky smile as she stepped past her toward the cockpit once more. The traffic about the ship seemed to have stirred the doctor's light sleep. He was standing with his head out of the crew quarters, looking groggy and more than a little wary.
"What's..going on?" he muttered as A'sha stepped past him on the way to the cockpit. With no answer forthcoming, other than a shrug of her shoulders, he followed.
The woman sat in the pilot's chair and turned her attention to the scanners. Customs corvettes, and squadrons of fighters. Things were bound to hit a bump along the way eventually, she thought. She opened the channel between the Hound and one of the corvettes and a simple demand chimed over the speakers.
"Freighter "Hound", prepare your ship to receive a search party for contraband."
She didn't respond, didn't really need to. That she remained in place and powered down the engines would be telling enough that they intended to comply. She leaned back in her chair as movement caught her eye from the view port. One of the ships in queue had broken off and was speeding away from the Republic's forces. Needless to say, the corvette and its escort disengaged in pursuit. This could be her chance to speed past and enter hyperspace. Another pause..customs had already hailed them and they had their ID signature. The jedi raised a hand to her chin in contemplation.
"Shouldn’t we be moving along to our destination, captain?" their passenger sounded, perhaps for the first time, alarmed. A’sha could sense, and evidently see his anxiety. It only seemed to grow as she made no move to steer their craft away.
"They already know we're here. If we slipped past them now they'd simply notify the Republic forces in the next system and we'd be apprehended there."
Her reply, or rather, the calmness with which it was delivered did not seem to put the man’s mind at ease in the slightest.
“I can get us through this.” She reassured him, looking him squarely in the eye, her tone grew serious. “However, for me to do so, you have to show me exactly what your cargo is.”
So far so good. Several hyperspace jumps without incident and the Hound was handling well. A'sha set the navicomputer's coordinates for the next lane and left the ship to fly itself. The Republic had a strong presence in the area, for now she needn't worry about any hostile surprises and they were close to the hyperspace lane, a few minutes and they'd be one more jump closer to their destination. A'sha stood from her chair in the cockpit, stepping out along the corridors. She spared a glance into the crew quarters. Their passenger was sleeping soundly, a rare occasion – the man barely ever left his cargo out of sight. This was her chance to take a closer look at it.
Rounding the corners of the corridors, she stopped at the cargo bay doors, throwing a glance over her shoulder before stepping in and making straight for the container their contractor had brought aboard. It was large, but securely sealed, and the doctor would probably be able to tell if it were opened without his permission, it was certainly a state-of-the-art box, if ever there was such a thing. She needn’t pry it open to catch a glimpse of its significance, however. A’sha closed her eyes as she pressed an open palm against the container’s cold surface. Her mind stilled, and her senses reached out, tracing along the threads of the Force, that bind everything and everyone.
There he was...the young doctor, feverishly tapping away at the container's panel, checking up on it, hour after hour, like a man possessed. Sweat is beading down his forehead. He's not in his right mind. What is he afraid of?
The images ceased as A'sha pulled her hand away and gazed intently at the container. Her lips pursed and she contemplated opening it then and there, as her hand drifted to a control panel on the side of the device. The sound of the cargo bay doors opening made her bring her hand away as if it were burnt and she turned about sharply, an excuse ready in her mind, before she saw her mechanic standing at the threshold. With a sigh, her frame relaxed and she took a few steps closer.
"What is it, Silla?"
"We've got a problem, we're in queue for the lane, but there's Republic ships here and they're hailing us." she seemed worried, her eyes glanced aside from her partner to the container.
The jedi lightly placed a hand on her mechanic's shoulder, giving her a reassuring, perhaps even somewhat cocky smile as she stepped past her toward the cockpit once more. The traffic about the ship seemed to have stirred the doctor's light sleep. He was standing with his head out of the crew quarters, looking groggy and more than a little wary.
"What's..going on?" he muttered as A'sha stepped past him on the way to the cockpit. With no answer forthcoming, other than a shrug of her shoulders, he followed.
The woman sat in the pilot's chair and turned her attention to the scanners. Customs corvettes, and squadrons of fighters. Things were bound to hit a bump along the way eventually, she thought. She opened the channel between the Hound and one of the corvettes and a simple demand chimed over the speakers.
"Freighter "Hound", prepare your ship to receive a search party for contraband."
She didn't respond, didn't really need to. That she remained in place and powered down the engines would be telling enough that they intended to comply. She leaned back in her chair as movement caught her eye from the view port. One of the ships in queue had broken off and was speeding away from the Republic's forces. Needless to say, the corvette and its escort disengaged in pursuit. This could be her chance to speed past and enter hyperspace. Another pause..customs had already hailed them and they had their ID signature. The jedi raised a hand to her chin in contemplation.
"Shouldn’t we be moving along to our destination, captain?" their passenger sounded, perhaps for the first time, alarmed. A’sha could sense, and evidently see his anxiety. It only seemed to grow as she made no move to steer their craft away.
"They already know we're here. If we slipped past them now they'd simply notify the Republic forces in the next system and we'd be apprehended there."
Her reply, or rather, the calmness with which it was delivered did not seem to put the man’s mind at ease in the slightest.
“I can get us through this.” She reassured him, looking him squarely in the eye, her tone grew serious. “However, for me to do so, you have to show me exactly what your cargo is.”
If we can use that, all I just have to do is keep it open in a separate tab and refresh every so often. I'll work out hyperspace routes on the galaxy map and some other things and I'll send you a PM back soon.
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