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 Post subject: Fugitive
PostPosted: Sun Aug 17, 2008 12:39 am 
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Joined: Tue Jul 06, 2004 6:49 pm
Posts: 2199
One week after the Battle of Bormari.

The martial-class shuttle swerved lazily around the towering crystalline spires that dominated the jagged surface of the frozen planet. Two crystal-worms resting on the icy surface reared their heads as the shuttle dipped towards them in order to avoid a low-extending arch. With ease, the shuttle rolled on its axis, juking one way and then the other before putting on a burst of speed that launched it clear of the worms’ reach. With the intruder gone, the worms returned to their slumber.

“Imperial shuttle, you have been cleared to land on platform 3. Please align your vector with the guide lights and prepare to decrease speed.”

“Acknowledged, Acaria Base,” the pilot replied, terminating the transmission. Putting on another burst of speed, the shuttle’s nose tilted down towards the twin lines of blinking lights that lead up to the designated platform.


“Welcome to Mygeeto, sir. We deeply apologize for the condition of the landing pad,” the base’s tall, lemur-like administrator bowed slightly as the shuttle’s pilot - a sullen, ashen-faced man - stepped from the entry ramp onto the pad’s damp, steaming surface. The white fur around his black face rippled in the chilly breeze. “Had we been informed of your arrival before hand, we would have had time to properly defrost it.”

The pilot stopped a few steps short of his host and watched as the falling the snow quickly melted upon contact with the pad’s rubber-ribbed surface. Scrapping his boot across the surface, he nodded in satisfaction. “As long as I don’t end up injuring myself, it will do.”

“You are too kind, sir,” the Mygeetan bowed again before directing the man towards the warm interior of the base’s nearest dome. “I am administrator An’sin. How may we be of assistance?”

“My ship’s reactors lost containment and I was forced to abandon it shortly before it exploded. I require use of your communications array as well as a ship.”

“Our communications array is at your disposal,” the administrator’s orange-gold eyes blinked away a stray snowflake. “However, I’m afraid we are quite limited in terms of available star craft.”

“I can assure you, administrator,” the pilot stopped to face the taller alien. The gloom about him turned icy. “You will be compensated by the Empire; your support in this matter will not go unrewarded.”

“What about your shuttle?” he asked, glancing back towards the vessel.

As if on cue, the shuttle suddenly rose from the platform and slowly accelerated towards the ice field. Ten seconds later, it exploded in a brilliant cloud of reds and oranges.

The administrator’s eyes widened in surprise before turning back to face the human. The pilot merely arched an eyebrow.

“Of course, sir...” he bowed again. “Anything for an agent of the Empire.”

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 Post subject: Re: Fugitive - Intro
PostPosted: Mon Aug 25, 2008 6:34 am 
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Joined: Tue Jul 06, 2004 6:49 pm
Posts: 2199
“Sir, I must protest!”

An’sin glanced up from the pages of flimsy he’d been handed moments before the facility’s Head of Security had burst through the command center door. He wondered for a moment, how much more trouble could possibly occur in one day and whether or not he would survive it all. “What is it now, Demis?”

The Head of Security stood a head shorter then the administrator; being several years younger, this officer’s short white fur covered most of his face, as well as having a less pronounced neck-mane. Stopping before the administrator, he threw a quick salute. “I must protest the use of facility communications equipment by an uncleared user, even if he is supposedly an agent of the Empire!”

Several of the nearby staff subtly angled their ears around to listen. There would be several interesting conversations in the mess hall that evening.

I cleared him,” An’sin replied calmly, shuffling through the flimsy. He could barely tolerate the officer that the higher-ups had assigned as head of base security; an over-zealous, over-paranoid, by-the-book annoyance that, if An’sin had his way, would be assigned to worm-detail faster then it took to raise the base’s shields. An’sin would’ve had his way too…if Demis hadn’t been the son of his immediate superior. “His ident-card passed the background checks and he left his weapons with the comm-bay guard.”

“He was armed!?” the large, black, hairless spots around Demis’ eyes seemed to widen in horror. “Administrator, protocol clearly states that all off-base personnel, regardless of rank or affiliation, must be cleared by the facility’s head of security! We don’t even know what he’s carrying in that case he has with him!!”

“What looked like an infantry helmet, a small droid, and an extra change of clothes…”

“You let him into the comm-bay with a droid?! How do you know he isn’t in there now hacking into the central core?!”

An’sin flipped a page. “Demis, do you think I became the administrator of this base by being a complete idiot?”

“No sir, but regula– ”

The sudden snap of flimsy slapping together quickly turned the eavesdroppers back to their tasks. Demis yelped in surprise as his superior slammed the paperwork against the console and flashed his fangs. “You seem to forget, lieutenant, that while Mygeeto is largely free to do as she pleases, we are still under the jurisdiction of the Empire! I don’t see the harm in allowing a special agent who’s passed basic verifications use of our communications array in order to report back to his superiors!”

“Is there a problem, administrator?” A voice from behind interrupted.

“No sir,” An’sin replied, as the pilot descended the short flight of stairs that lead from the communications suite down into the command center. “Just reminding my head of security about the special protocols for distinguished guests.”

“I see.”

With a growl, the Mygeetan dismissed the cowering officer, then motioned for the following guard to return the weapons in his custody. “I trust you were able to reach your party with little difficulty?”

“I was,” the pilot replied flatly, gently lowering the rectangular case he was carrying to the floor in order to accept and reholster his small, twin blasters. Tugging at the fingers of his right glove, he removed it and produced a small, translucent-green data stick. “I compliment you on your equipment, administrator. I had not expected a base of this size to have such a sophisticated array.”

“You are too kind, sir.”

“I’m afraid my time here is limited, so I will be brief… I assume my shuttle is nearly ready?”

“I’m afraid all we can spare on the short notice is an old Theta-class T-2c shuttle, but the hanger has informed me that it will be ready by the time you arrive.”

“Antiquated, but sufficient…” extending his arm, he dropped the data stick into the Mygeetan’s hand. “These are your orders regarding my presence here. After I depart, you are to erase all record of my being here, delete the communication logs for the past two hours, and alter your craft inventory to show that your missing shuttle was destroyed in an unexplained explosion over the ice fields. The embedded program will quickly carry out the order.”

An’sin briefly examined the stick before clutching it tightly. “I understand. It will be done.”

“Your cooperation will not go overlooked, administrator,” the pilot said, replacing his glove and giving it a few test fist-squeezes.

“Anything for an agent of the Empire,” An’sin replied, bowing his head.

“For the Empire!” the pilot barked as he retrieved his case and turned to head in the direction of the base’s hanger bay.


Several minutes later, the console in the administrator’s office chimed.

An’sin was standing at his office’s large circular window – which allowed him a spectacular view of the ice fields – as he usually did on particularly stressful days. Watching the falling snow flutter in the freezing winds, hearing the howl of the wind as they picked up near the evening hours… it was all very relaxing. The only other thing that kept him together was the holo of his beloved wife and child on his desk. He regretted the fact that his duties as administrator often kept him away from his family and resolved to do whatever it took to spend more time with them.

The console chimed again.

Dragging himself away from the view, he dropped into the desk chair and punched the flashing button. “Yes?”

“Hanger, sir. The shuttle has cleared the outer parameter.”

“Thank you. Anything else to report?”

“Riveting excitement down here, sir. You’re really missing out.”

“Mmhm… An’sin out.”

Punching the comm. off, he reached into his pocked for the translucent data stick that the Imperial agent had given him. Dropping it into the appropriate slot, he punched up the commands to access its data. The desk’s embedded display flashed solid blue before fading to black. A spinning Imperial emblem appeared in the center of the screen while white text outlining the orders he had been given prior scrolled on either side. Giving them a cursory glance, he punched in the command to execute the program that would alter the computer’s records. The Imperial emblem shrank and jumped to the upper left corner as a new set of white, coded text began scrolling down the screen. A small counter appeared under the spinning emblem, counting down, presumably, the time it would take for the process to finish.

An’sin leaned back in his chair as his thoughts drifted back to his family and his duties. He briefly considered sending Demis out into the ice fields to investigate a “disturbance”; the agent had inadvertently given him the perfect cover story to have Demis’ charred, frozen body be found in the wreckage of the shuttle wreckage. Ultimately, he dismissed the idea as a lapse in rational judgment due to stress. No, if he was to be rid of the irritant, he would have to call in a few favors from friends in Command.

The console beeped. The program had finished its work and the scrolling text and counter had been replaced by the larger spinning emblem with the words, “Have a Nice Day” flashing slowly.

An’sin stared confused at the screen before the program terminated, leaving the display black. ‘Have a nice day’? That’s rather informal for official orders.’ he thought to himself.

The console suddenly chimed again.

Reaching over, he punched the comm. again. “Yes?”

“Reactor Control. Sorry to disturb you, sir… but we’re getting an odd reading from the reactors. Thought you should be informed.”

An’sin’s ears twitched. “What sort of odd reading? We just had them inspected last week; they should be running fine.”

“I’m aware of that sir, but for some reason, reactors one and three are showing elevated pressure.”

“It is serious?”

“Not yet sir, it’s still within acceptable limits, but I recommend shutting them down so we can get a team in to check them out.”

An’sin groaned. Shutting down the reactors meant a load of reports he’d have to fill out and submit to Command… even more paperwork if they required a team to come in and repair them. “Alright, go ahead and shut them down. But sure to put the base on alert as we’ll have to shut down nonessential systems to keep– ”

A loud explosion suddenly rocked the facility, throwing An’sin forward, over his desk, and sprawling on his office floor. Three seconds later another explosion, more massive then the first, shook the base. Warning klaxons sounded all over the base; internal lighting blinked out, replaced by red emergency glow panels. Despite his advancing age, An’sin quickly rose to his feet and with surprising agility leapt over his desk to reach the comm. “Reactor Control!! What’s going on down there?!?”

The comm. shot back a crackle of static.

“Control! Respond!”

“Re’tan here sir!” a coughing voice finally replied back over the waves of static. “The cooling tanks for reactors one and three just exploded! Something in the system sealed off and locked down the coolant lines, but the return pumps remained active! I don’t know how it happened sir… this sort of thing shouldn’t even be possible!!”

“What about the reactors?!” Something wet dripped down into An’sin’s eye. Wiping his face with the back of his hand quickly and painfully alerted him to the large gash in his forehead.

“The pressure in reactors one and three just jumped through the roof! Two and four just started to climb!! We’re looking at a possible core breach in a matter minutes!”

Another explosion, significantly smaller echoed across the comm. An’sin heard someone swearing and shouting something about a coolant leak from one of the other tanks before another explosion severed the comm. link. An’sin slowly rose from leaning over his desk. For an instant, he suspected the agent of planting a virus into the main computer, but it would’ve been impossible for an infection to reach the reactor control mainframe with the speed and intensity that had taken place.

An’sin had never seen his life flash before his eyes before, but it was the most second most enlightening event he had ever witnessed. Only too late did he wish that he’d never gotten out of bed that morning. Sadly, he would not be making it home that day.


The explosion of the base, muffled by the snow storm, appeared as merely a small orange flash in the shuttle’s rear sensors. In the event of someone recovering the facility’s backup computer core, the last log entries would read as “reactor failure”. The shuttle’s pilot tightened his grip on the shuttle’s steering yokes. A regrettable, but unavoidable collateral... it would’ve taken the base’s technicians a matter a minutes to discover that the orders had been forged… An’sin would have reported to his superiors… the ships pursuing him would have arrived and been given a full account of what had happened. Unfortunately, he could not have allowed that to happen.

Mentally pushing the issue to the back of his mind, he guided the aging craft up through the planet’s atmosphere and into the blackness of space. He would have a new ship waiting for him at the rendezvous point. It wouldn’t be too long before his hunters would start to catch up with him. However... it wouldn’t be too long before his hunters would start to catch up with him. Then the hard part would begin.

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 Post subject: Re: Fugitive - Intro
PostPosted: Fri Jun 12, 2009 3:03 am 
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Joined: Tue Jul 06, 2004 6:49 pm
Posts: 2199
3 hours later

“Raye, report; what do you see?”

The Z-95 Headhunter flew another pass over the smoking wreckage of what was once a Mygeetan outpost. Correcting for a sudden change in wind velocity, the pilot turned upward and began to circle the site in a large loop.

“There’s nothing…” she spoke quietly into her headset, a twinge of grief in her voice. “No life signs, no significant power signatures… just rubble and burning debris.”

“That’s what I was afraid of. You’re positive it was him though?”

The pilot narrowed her pure-white eyes. A moment of righteous anger at the senseless murder of three dozen lives mixed with empathy for the friends and family of those lives ripped through her before she quickly regained control. There was something else drifting up from the site of the massive explosion… something familiar, but horribly tainted; the remnant of a familiar presence.

She sighed in regret and frustration before keying the comm again. “Positive; he was here. Judging from site, he’s not much father ahead.

- - - - - - - - -

The captain of the MC18 light freighter, a tall, middle-aged man with an authoritative demeanor, folded his hands across his chest as he gazed intently at the curving horizon of the icy-blue planet beneath them. “We just picked up a report on the Mygeetan comm channels; it appears that their central command lost contact with the base nearly three and a half hours ago. The sooner we figure out which trajectory he took the sooner we’ll catch up with him.”

The comm was silent for a second before sounding a burst of static.


The answer came after a few moments. “Acknowledged Wayfarer…”

The firmness around the man’s eyes softened as he leaned back into the pilot’s chair, his squared shoulders easing themselves into a more relaxed position

“I know what you’re going through, Raye,” he said, trying to reassure her. “I can sense your resentment, your anger, but this is not the Jedi way. Don’t let your feelings, however justified they may be, lure you to the Dark Side.”

“Promise me, Rand… promise me we’ll catch the Sith-born traitor.”

Carth Rand exhaled slowly through his nose as a datapad was handed to him by one of the three other crew members. Giving the sensor report a quick once-over, he passed it back to the security officer. “Bowman Gavin will be held accountable for his crimes, and for the deaths of the innocent people he’s murdered. Though from what I understand, he’s already suffering the consequences of his actions.”

“Hurry up and get space-side,” he continued, punching a set of coordinates into the freighter’s navi-computer. “There’s an ugly storm front moving in and your Headhunter’ll be tossed around like a toy.”

“You know I always liked things a little turbulent,” the reply came back, a hint of lighthearted mockery around its edges.

“Yeah yeah… we’ve got a fix on the trajectory his ship most likely took – sending you the coord’s now. As soon as you break atmosphere we’ll head out and make the jump to lightspeed.”

“Acknowledged Wayfarer. Headhunter out.”

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 Post subject: Re: Fugitive
PostPosted: Sun Jun 13, 2010 3:07 pm 
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Joined: Tue Jul 06, 2004 6:49 pm
Posts: 2199
35 hours later

The timing would have to be perfect. No, it would have to be more than perfect. It would have to be the most precise calculation he’d ever made. The slightest error would be the difference between the most recklessly brilliant feat of piloting into a gravity-well in history or the most spectacular crash into the surface of the planet in the sector’s history.

“I knew that stop at Ord Biniir was a mistake...” Gavin muttered to himself as he finished overriding the navicomputer’s auto-disengage safeguards. Not bothering to slap the access panel back into place, he abandoned the tangled mess of wiring and leaped into the pilot’s chair, strapping himself in. Either was it was going to be one hell of a ride.

What had started out as a quick detour to the planet’s orbiting fuel depot ended up as a blown cover from an Imperial wanted poster, an unavoidable shootout, an unintended explosion, and a hasty departure as several of the station’s fuel tank ruptured, pushing the facility out of its stable orbit and into a decaying orbit towards the planet below. Much to Gavin’s dismay, this had given his pursuers sufficient time to catch up.

The piercing red numbers of the timer’s digital readout steadily descended towards zero as Gavin firmly gripped the hyperdrive control lever.




Under normal circumstances, the coordinates stored in the navi-computer’s database would trigger the computer to disengage the hyperdrive upon reaching a ‘safe distance’ from the target planet’s gravity well. In the case of the presence of an unexpected gravity well, the system’s safeties would kick in and drop the ship to normal space in order to prevent a catastrophic collision. However, with the safeguards now disabled, Gavin was shooting for a point as close to the atmosphere as possible.




An alarm went off from a panel somewhere behind him; he’d pushed the hyperdrive too hard for too long and now it was beginning to fail. The shuttle began to shudder, lightly at first, but slowly growing more and more intense. Gavin’s knitted gaze remained fixed on the swirling tunnel ahead.




Either way, this was going to hurt.




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