OOC: Of course you may join, Valera! The more the merrier. Here is the aderess for the MandoMaker if you want it. http://zammap.sitesled.com/iemehahgeheh ... maker2.swf

As for suggestions, there really aren't any. Be a Mando, male or female, doesn't matter. If you feel like being different, you could make an ace fighter pilot as we already have a sniper and two close-range fighters, but whatever you prefer is fine, we'll work with it.

I'll wait for your bio before jumping ahead the six hours so you can be at the planning.

IC: Jate watched as the crew left the bridge one by one. "Call me if there is an emergency, I'll be in my quarters," he said to the watch officer. "But only in an emergency. Suvarir?"

"Yes, sir," the watch officer replied as Jate left.

((suvarir=understood/understand))

_________________
Four Gods wait on the windowsill,
Where once eight Gods did war and will,
And if the Gods themselves may die,
What does that say for you and I?

Now, three Gods wait on the windowsill
Where one God's blood was lately spilled
While black tongues lap at the spreading pool
And build the strength they need to rule.

Ok, here goes. Of course I feel like being different Think I'll take the pilot suggestion.

Name: Sarryn "Ryn" Basque-Tion
Age: 28
Race: Human
Gender: Female
Appearance: http://fc26.deviantart.com/fs29/i/2008/ ... hilles.jpg
History: briefly: The House of Tion once held sway over the Tion Hegemony, but as the centuries passed, new political forces rose. The House sank into obscurity and legend. One of its modern-day descendants, Sarryn was entitled to advanced education, but not much more. She was only six months away from her engineering degree when the Mandalorians invaded and instituted a draft. The past seven years with the Mando navy have shaped her into a crack fighter pilot, but she has never forgotten what might have been.
Personality: Generally quiet and very controlled, but functions with a burning intensity that some find unsettling. Her passion has always been for the mechanical, and she is a gifted tinkerer.
Weapons: Bes'uliik starfighter, pilot's survival blaster and blades. Has some basic close-combat training, but her knack for reading an aerial field of combat is unrivaled.

Jate's commands filtered through the set hooked onto Sarryn Basque-Tion's right ear, but the pilot barely heard them. The thud of her heart and the rhythm of her boots on the deck plating were all too noticeable; her head was spinning, and all she could feel was cold, inexorable numbness spreading up from her toes.

Toman was dead.

Oh, she didn't know for sure, but she knew all the same. Ryn looked at the datapad in her hand, willing the heartless blue text to vanish, but it remained.

Family Member, Basque-Tion, Toman from Mandalorian Empire Tion System Administration

We regret to inform you that Toman Basque-Tion has been apprehended in rebel activities.

And that was it. No explanation, and definitely no sympathy. But there didn't need to be any. It went without saying that Toman had been summarily tried and shot. If he had been tried. The dream of the resurrection of the House of Tion, already on its deathbed, had taken its final gasp.

And Ryn had a job to do. She set her jaw and walked onto the hangar deck, needing the distraction of flight prep.

_________________


<center>Nothing but the Rain</center>

MK-44 clanked into the ship bay and over tot he nearest plug in.

"Annoyed mumblngs: Guard the hanger bay... why do the droids always get stuck witht he boring jobs?"

He plugged himself in and put his rifle in his back holster. "How many meat bags am I going to be able to kill in the hanger bay? " He let out a mechanicall squeel, simular to a sigh and shut down for re-charging.

----------------------------------------------------------

Cu'val didn't get much rest, but enough. Most of his time was spend sifting through the data of his recent activities. he had to keep everything perfectly straight in order that no one found out just what it was that he was doing.

_________________




Visit The Varsian Kingdom!

OOC: and the six hour skip ahead......

IC: Jate'kara entered a quick holoconference with the other corvette captains to determine the exact plan of attack. It was settled, three days and ten hours from the exact moment the conference ended.

He called the command crew to the bridge to brief them on the plan.

OOC: Sorry for the short post, but I don't have much time with all the homework I have to catch up on right now. And the command crew is the bridge crew (who would already be there) and all the PC (Player Characters).

_________________
Four Gods wait on the windowsill,
Where once eight Gods did war and will,
And if the Gods themselves may die,
What does that say for you and I?

Now, three Gods wait on the windowsill
Where one God's blood was lately spilled
While black tongues lap at the spreading pool
And build the strength they need to rule.

Aran looked up from calibrating his HUD as the turbolift doors opened. "Akaan, Alor?" He asked, resting one hand on his sword pommel. This was what he had been waithing for.

_________________


Son of Bellatrix

Banner by Pandora

Cu'val made his way to the bridge to listen to the briefing. It sounded like a routine run... not to boring but nothing special.

"Sounds like a plan don't it?" he said, looking down at his gun and working a few of the systems over for an over-check.

_________________




Visit The Varsian Kingdom!

Ryn scraped the last of the black, viscous grease from her hands and scrubbed the rough soap over her fingers yet again. The deck crew, unnerved by her bleak, driven silence, had surmised that she needed some time alone and had deserted, leaving her to wrestle with recalcitrant fuel injector valves. They hadn't been on her fighter, either; Sarryn Basque-Tion's machine was always in pristine condition. It wasn't that she castigated the crew when she found deficiencies - she would simply correct them herself, which the deck crew, oddly enough, found even more insulting.

But working on a backup fighter had kept her thoughts busy, while she slowly absorbed harsh reality. Her brother was gone. The last humanly important thing in her world had been ripped away, by the power she had faithfully served for seven years. She had routinely risked her life in the name of the Mandalorian Empire, who hadn't even thought to reward her service by... something. Seeing her brother. Bargaining for his exile, maybe. Something. Attending his kriffing funeral.

Ryn shut off the water with a jerk and stalked onto the turbolift, head still swimming. Her hands were still wet, and the sleeves of her jumpsuit still rolled up to the elbows, but, as she walked onto the bridge, she realized that she didn't care.

_________________


<center>Nothing but the Rain</center>

"Of a sorts, Aran," Jate exited the turbolift and walked back to his position in the center of the bridge. "Of a sorts...."

He waited until the various Mando’s that made up the command crew arrived, arms folded lightly over his breastplate, posture that of a predator at rest. “The plan is simple. We open the bay doors a few minutes before the reversion to realspace. As soon as we revert to realspace, the Bes'uliiks launch. I’ll leave the specifics of the fighter deployment up to the wing commander, Ryn over there.” He jerked his head in her direction. “The Verburyc will be on border patrol, hunting around the edge of the killing field and keeping the aruetiise ships from escaping to hyperspace.”

“Each of you will be piloting a Bessie along with however many others that Ryn deems appropriate for the success of the mission.” Jate looked at Ryn while speaking. She seemed…well, to be honest, she seemed kinda pissed. He’d have to ask her about that, but not right now, not until after this mission. He couldn’t be worrying about one person under his command more than the others. “Your main objective is to upload the virus into the HoloNet transceiver, or if all else fails, destroy it. But that is a last resort, suvarir.” Despite the phrasing of a question, it wasn’t. Jate knew they understood, because if they didn’t then they didn’t belong on this ship.

“However, a secondary objective is to keep any ships from leaving to alert the Hapans to our attack. One your way to the transceiver and after the primary objective has been completed, take out the Hapan ships with extreme prejudice. Questions?”

_________________
Four Gods wait on the windowsill,
Where once eight Gods did war and will,
And if the Gods themselves may die,
What does that say for you and I?

Now, three Gods wait on the windowsill
Where one God's blood was lately spilled
While black tongues lap at the spreading pool
And build the strength they need to rule.

Cu'val listened intently, already going through the battle plan a third time in his head.
He had no questions so he looked around the room through his helmet and held his peace.

He glanced over at Ryn, waiting for her to explain the details that Jate had mentioned.

_________________




Visit The Varsian Kingdom!

(assuming that they know about the virus)

She needed to get her head in the game. Focus. Ryn frowned slightly as she reviewed the instructions. Launching fighters as soon as they finished the jump was definitely pandering to the element of surprise - and no wonder. The Hapans, with their long tradition of warriors, had an equally renowned navy.

Ryn saw the missing piece in the equation and looked at Jate, realizing that he'd been glancing speculatively in her direction. She wasn't normally this abrupt, true, but she had a darn good reason. It wasn't every day her brother was executed, and she would be quite happy if her attitude was not brought up as a topic of casual conversation.

"Will the virus be uploaded remotely, or will there be an insertion team?" Flight strategy was absolutely dependent upon this. And she was in no mood today to brook gainsaying on her tactics.

_________________


<center>Nothing but the Rain</center>

“Ah, right,” Jate said. “I’ll let our slicer take that one.”

Another Mandalorian in full battle armour came up to stand beside Jate. His armour was a deep green with accents in gold, symbolizing duty and vengeance. His armour only has a few scratches due to the fact that he was not much of a ground pounder and usually watched from behind the scenes in a ship or command centre. “The virus is to be uploaded through the diagnostic relay on the transceiver. But that’s the good news. The bad is that you’ll have to get within fifteen metres and stay in that radius for forty to sixty seconds, depending on how long it takes for the burrowing program takes to get through their firewall. Which in turn depends on how recently their firewalls have been updated and how good of a programmer whomever did that was.”

“Once there is a backdoor in the firewall, which will take approximately thirty to fifty seconds, depending on the aforementioned criteria. Once the backdoor is opened, the real virus’s compressed file will be dumped from the Bessie’s cache into the transceiver’s mainframe in ten seconds or less.” The slicer adjusted a few dials and buttons on his forearm plate and a hologram of a HoloNet transceiver appeared in the air before him.

“The diagnostic relay is here.” He pointed to a small antenna coming off the midsection of the roughly cylindrical space transceiver. “The entire transceiver is only fifteen metres long, so you can go seven and a half metres above or below it without losing connection. It has a buffer memory of five seconds in case of connection hic-ups. If you lose the connection, you have those five seconds to get back in contact. But if another ship uplinks in that time, the buffer will dump its contents and we’ll have to start the entire process over. And don’t, under any circumstances, lose connection while my tunnerler is going in, because if you do, the firewall will recognize it the second time and it won’t be able to get it.”

The other Mando stepped back and Jate took up his position again as the hologram disappeared. “Other questions?”

_________________
Four Gods wait on the windowsill,
Where once eight Gods did war and will,
And if the Gods themselves may die,
What does that say for you and I?

Now, three Gods wait on the windowsill
Where one God's blood was lately spilled
While black tongues lap at the spreading pool
And build the strength they need to rule.

"When do we start?" Cu'val said rubing a slight spot of smudged oil on his gun.

_________________




Visit The Varsian Kingdom!

All right. So there were fifty-five seconds that a fighter absolutely had to stay within range of the transceiver; fifty maximum to break in, and five to repair a broken connection - if it stuttered only once.The other ten seconds for downloading the virus could stand longer absences. She'd have to make the cut call, if it came to it, cuing another fighter to come in and make the attempt.

Ryn stared at the slowly rotating hologram, not really seeing it. They'd have to make sure no other fighters came within range, in case of automatic connection attempts being made. They'd also have to protect all of the above fighters.

So she had a plan. A squadron to attack and distract. Another two squadrons to provide cover for the transceiver. One flight of four, pulled from a cover squadron, to make the download attempt. The pilot leaned back against a nearby railing and hooked her thumbs into her hip pockets. She'd give her orders when the time came.

_________________


<center>Nothing but the Rain</center>

OOC: I have to put this on hold. My sister was diagnosed with acute m-something leukemia, which is the worst kind, so I just can't do this right now. But I will either pick it up with this thread or start a new one because I don't want this to die and I'll pm all of you when I do.

_________________
Four Gods wait on the windowsill,
Where once eight Gods did war and will,
And if the Gods themselves may die,
What does that say for you and I?

Now, three Gods wait on the windowsill
Where one God's blood was lately spilled
While black tongues lap at the spreading pool
And build the strength they need to rule.

((Oh, god. By all means, we understand here. Don't worry about it.))

_________________


Son of Bellatrix

Banner by Pandora

Woah, I'm really sorry. It's totally understandable (my grandfather had the same thing)- my prayers are with her!

_________________


<center>Nothing but the Rain</center>