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Guest Shingen

The Independent Way- Part One

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Guest Shingen

By popular demand, I've decided to go ahead and start this RP thread in an attempt to bring some of the Independant misc/caste-race players into the for-front, and allow them to tell their stories in this RP environment. It's pretty much open-ended, so you indies help me out and let's see if we can get this party started! I've based the time-frame of this RP around the "Into the Fire'thread just to add a little continuity, so I hope this isn't a problem. Now, on with the show!


The Independent Way

Part One:

02:34 AM May 12,3008

Centris, Alpha Centuari

The Megaron Attack Carrier approached starboard of the UCV-Deathstrike, a Droidan built Solnar heavy-cruiser that sat stationary around Orion starstation. When it reached 500km of the cruiser, the Megaron began engaging it's retro-engines to slow it's velocity until it also sat stationary around Orion. After a few moments, the lower launch platform descended beneath the massive carrier and with streaks of fire trailing outwards, deployed it's four Defenders-class fighters in escort.

Commander Shingen watched the approach of the carrier from the darkened observation-bay with the UCV-Deathstrike. He was a stout, short-legged man with a trace of Gammulan blood interlaced within his terran DNA. This had the effect of giving him a somewhat demonic appearance, with high, sharp eyebrows over red-tinged, hynotic eyes. His long blonde hair was pulled back into a pony-tail that ran the length of his spine. All taken together, his appearance was disheartening, and unsettling to those unaccustomed, and he used it to his advantage in his profession as an assassin and for the advancement of his ship and crew.

He leaned back in the deck-recliner with his feet propped up on the railing underneath the observation glass, frowning at the Megaron's Defenders streaking through the black void around his ship. He knew that this was probably a standard procedure for the carrier, but he didn't like it one bit. Something didn't feel right, and when you were an independant in this universe, you learned to trust your feelings, or you could end up not feeling anything...ever again.

After a few moments, the comms light began to blink on the small computer-display terminal embedded into the right arm of the recliner. Casually, Shingen activated the switch and stared at the blurred image of his first officer, a Vesperon named Khur'an.

"Commander, we're getting a hail from the Terran carrier," said Khur'an, his image gradually clearing as Shingen's eyes adjusted to the light of the display. "Shall I return a standard greeting, or would you like me to feed it through to where you are?"

"Hold off a sec, Khur, and give me a tactical on those fighters. Also, I want an idea of what's in this region at present, and feed me the telemetry of the probes we have in Tramis and Sol."

After a few seconds, the information glared on the display in the chair's arm.

"The Defenders appear to be in standard escort of the carrier." reported Khur'an. "As you can tell from your terminal display, there's nothing in this region or in the surrounding regions that would indicate a threat. But that could change in a nano-second, so I went ahead and put everyone on alert staus." Finally Khur'an added: "You think it's a trap?"

"I've no clue Khur, but I don't like dealing with these fleet types. They all act like they've got a metal rod crammed up their bums, so I ain't assumin' nuthin'"

Shingen rose from the chair fast enough to give himself a head-rush. After his head cleared he said; "Send a sub-space encoded message to the UCV-Apocolypse and tell them to maintain cloaked-staus until my order. I'll be on the bridge in a second, so hold off on that hail to the carrier." He reached down and switched off the comm-link and stalked out of the observation deck towards the bridge.

Khur'an G'or was a vesperon that didn't like vesperons. He didn't much like terrans either, and he absolutly trusted no one except the captain and crew of his ship. He was tall and lacky, but quick and deadly, with an IQ higher then most anyone could quess, and he would do anything and everything in his power to protect his home: the UCV-Deathstrike.

Khur'an had once been a scientist for the vesperon military, working on weapons and scanner technology. He had been meek and obedient, never wanting to cause trouble, until one of his vesperon 'superiors' raped and murdered his wife. The Vesperon High Command, in their infinite wisdom, acquitted the officer of any wrong-doing. Khur'an, enraged, quit the vesperon scientist-caste and went into seclusion. Three days after the court's acquittal, the offending officer was found dis-embowled on the steps of the Vesperon High Command. The word TRAITORS was wriiten in blood on the front double-doors of the building.

Khur'an has never returned to his homeworld, and since he has been declared a traitor to the vesperon people by the Vesperon High Command, to be killed on sight, he didn't think it would've been a smart idea anyway. He didn't care. Khur'an had a new home now, and that was good enough for him.

The comms-light, signaling an incoming hail jolted Khur'an back into the present. From the command-chair, he punched a few buttons and turned to the small, deadly female terran standing at the Operations station.

Her name was Mariko. She was of Japanese ancestry, daughter of a noble-man, who had an intimate knowledge of the ancient terran martial arts of Aikijutsu and Ninjutsu. Khur,an knew she wasn't someone he would want to be on the wrong-side of.

"Mariko-san, I want you to send an encoded message to the Apocolypse. Tell them to maintain their cloak until furthur notice. If or when they begin to bleed radiation, tell them to jump to Tramis and de-cloak there, but not to alert our contact of their presence." Khur'an paused momentarily, then added: "Keep an active scan on those fighters. I want to know if they even fart too close to us."

Mariko activated the Tacops computer and displayed it on the main bridge-viewer. Represented in blue were the various craft within the region, the Orion star-station, and the Orion ODS in orbit around the Centris moon. Two Mandorian traders were in a cargo-sweep of the region. Khur'an watched as they moved to each of the jump-points like bees in a flower patch. Finding nothing worth collecting, they eventually began an approach for Orion station.

A lone Empirian colonist difited in an orbit around the moon.

Khur'an's attention finally fell on the blue designation for the Megaron sitting starboard of his ship. Buzzing around the carrier were it's Defender-class fighters. Khur'an knew that the UCV-Apocolypse was also in the region, somewhere around the Tramis jump-point, but since she was cloaked, the craft did not register on the Tacops scan.

The first thing that Khur'an noticed about the carrier was it's complete lack of any offical Galcom insignia. The carrier wasn't even named, with it's only designation beging the generic craft-class identification MEGARON. The brass at Galcom appearantly wanted to keep their plausable-deniablity options open, incase this meeting became 'unmanagable'.

Typical bureaucratic B.S.

But this in itself. held no concern for Khur'an. He had had many past dealings with these fleet types, and knew that they weren't to be trusted under any circumstances. The UCV-Deathstrike was here for one reason and one reason alone: To accept or reject the contract, then if accepted, to carry out the contract by any means necessary, to be paid in full on completion, and then to be on her merry little way!

Khur'an's attention was diverted from the bridge-viewer by the sudden opening of the bridge's access doors. Shingen, his captain and friend stood in the opening, looking at the bridge-viewer. Immediately, Khur'an sttod a respectfully said:

"Commander on the bridge!"


ok.. I hope I haven't made any major fu-bars with my very first RP thread. I'm sure you guys will let me know if I screwed anything up! smile.gif

[ 04-20-2001: Message edited by: Shingen ]

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Guest Shingen


Now that I've introduced my main character and a few of my supporting ones, I want to give everyone an idea as to what's happening within this RP. Basically, this scenario takes place within the rp-gaming universe of INTO THE FIRE*. As some might have noticed, the beginning sequence happens 3 days BEFORE the beginning of ITF*-act one. It can therefore be assumed that everything that has happened/will happen in the ITF thread, has/will happen in this one, and those events have both a direct and indirect effect. I chose to create this RP around the ITF thread because I saw the potential for scripting an alternate/independent view-point of the main plot-line. I'm hoping that others can see the potential for alternate sub-plots, character developments, intrigues, and historical clarifications, ect., outside the fleets direct point of view.

It should be also be assumed that my characters have no PERSONAL knowledge of any of the main characters within the ITF thread, but may or maynot know of them through reputation or heresay alone. The reverse can also be assumed. I went back and reacquainted myself with the ITF thread so I wouldn't make anymore STUPID mistakes..(i don't know how the Orion-Centris connection escaped me! smile.gif ) You may or may not need to refresh yourself on the dynamics of the time-frame. Hopefully, the two RPs will compliment each other, telling the story from both the fleets and the indie, misc. race/caste perspective.

Over the next few posts, I will furthur flesh-out MY main plot-line...and you will see where I'm going. ALL indies are welcome/encouraged to add to the thread, but keep it within the BASIC storyline. I'm not going to tell you what to write, and if you have a general idea of how the RP environment works, you should have no problems. You guys are welcome to play off of my character to make it easier to find a place within the RP.. or you can start someplace else as long as it doesn't overly contridict with the overall ITF/IW plots.

Below is a summery of MY characters: (this list is not yet completed)


Commander Shingen - Commander

Khur'an G'or - First Officer

Miyashi Mariko - Operations

Benkei - Tactical

James Kelar - Helm

Susan Jakar - Medical

..On with the show!


"For whom the bell tolls...time marches on!"

02:45 May 12, 3008

Centris, Alpha Centauri

Aboard the UCV-Deathstrike

In a holding pattern off Orion Star-station

I thought of home as I looked up at the bridge-viewer. It wasn't because of anything I was looking at, the thought just came unexpectedly, a flash from nowhere...and I saw the blue-green of the Cascade Mountain Range, a momma black bear, herding her new-borns off for a new day of learning...a new day of survival.

Back when I was a kid. When I didn't have to worry about life and death...other people, when I was carefree, flirting with the idea of being an ecological engineer, like my father, to preserve our home, our planet, the Earth.

I admit that life hadn't gone as I'd planned. I was a screw-up! A stupid, arrogant kid who knew all the answers. A stupid kid who couldn't even figure out the questions! I finally rejected the relative calm of the Terran Forrestry Service for a life of risk and excitement. But that was long ago...

I was an assassin now! Hired to create death for personal profit. Life has a way of throwing us curves...of teaching the one thing we needed to learn most. I had to learn humility.

Now the Gammulans threatened! I knew, I KNEW that they weren't just out for new territories. All of the political B.S. aside, I could see what was happening. The Gams wanted us gone! Exterminated. The end of mankind.

And how would that effect me, my ship, my crew?...and what of the gammulan blood that raced in my veins, the part of me that was violent and hostile, where did it come from, how did I get it? So many questions...but nowhere to find the answers...


I looked from the viewer to my First. I'd always thought that Khur'an was small for a Vesperon. He stood about three hands above me, but he was rather slim and stringy...not the sort you'd think could kill you before you even knew you were in danger. He stood at my command-chair. Mariko was up on Ops, Keler was on the helm, our tactical officer was in Med-bay, his DNA being re-composed and re-fabricated.

"Commander, I've arranged everything as per your orders. The carrier has initiated an open hail to us, but I haven't as yet, answered." Khur'an reported, relinguishing the command-chair to his captain.

"Mariko, take up tactical! Keler, put us at 150 kph velocity and aim us away from the Megaron." I ordered as I took my place at command.

Khur'an settled into the vacant Ops station.

"Mariko, open a channel to the carrier, standard hail." I said.

"The hail is audio only, Commander. They won't give us a visual. The message is encoded, so it'll take a few seconds to decipher." Mariko reported from her console at tactical.

"Let's hear it."

After a brief pause, a voice blared from all directions:

"To the Solnar heavy-cruiser designated the UCV-Deathstrike. I have been authorized to contact you by powers within the Terran government. We are here to initiate negotiations that could greatly effect the present state of aggressions between the Humans and the Gammulans. Being an extremely sensitive matter, you will only be afforded knowledge which you might need to complete the objective. Because of that sensitivity, you will be required to transport aboard this Attack Carrier for orientation and compensatory arrangements. Please acknowledge hail and compliance."

"That's it, Commander. They have it on a repeating cycle." Mariko said, she keyed a few buttons and zoomed the Tacops to center on the Megaron. Their shields were re-building at 1254, and their integrity was at 89. They had seen combat...and recently. Very Recently!

I sat and contemplated the message. I knew that Galcom was at it's wits end trying to hold back the Gammulan hordes. I also knew of the Insurgency..that war within the human systems was eminent.

How could the human race survive the Gammulans if we went to war with ourselves?

The Gams would crush us!

Why couldn't those fools playing politics get a clue!

I rose from my command-chair and signaled to my First: "Keep us steady. If anything happens that shouldn't happen, just go with what we planned."

I turned and walked off the bridge, towards my command-suite. I sat down at my desk and keyed my personal display-terminal.

"Computer, command code entry. Activate Numega Contingency. All command code authorizations transfered to First Officer Khur'an G'or. Command code...End."

I slipped my fingers underneath the lip of the desktop and pressed a small, concealed button. A hidden access panel slid open on the side of the desk.

Inside was the life I had chosen...the only thing I was good at...



[ 04-20-2001: Message edited by: Shingen ]

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Guest Shingen


"Woe to you oh Earth and Sea, for the Devil sends the Beast with wrath..."

02:53 May, 12 3008

Centris, Alpha Centauri

Aboard the UCV-Deathstrike

In proximity of Orion star-station.

Well, the next hour would confirm if this was a legitimate contract or an extravagant mind-f**k. I knew that the Deathstrike was wanted by the Galcom hierarchy for 'retiring' several key diplomats of an Empirian envoy a few months prior. I was also aware that Galcom had used this ploy before to capture several Gammulan mercenaries. They had offered the Gams what appeared to be legit contracts, then captured their ships and preceded to interrogate the hapless mercs for whatever information they had on the Gam's military infrastructure...which I'd guess was probably nil. I chose to explore this 'meeting' to find out exactly where we stood with Galcom, and possibly find out some intel on the Gam war. I admit it was a tactical risk...but risk came with the profession.

One thing was certain, if the Deathstrike went down, she'd go down in flames, and the Megaron carrier would go with her. There would be no survivers.

I had prepared as best I could. As a show of my independent status, I went ahead and strapped my side-arm to my hip, but I knew that it would be taken as soon as I got aboard the carrier. I was dressed in traditional assassin's garb. A black, loose-fitting garment that was equipped with a multitude of hidden pockets and recesses. Underneath the blouse, I had on the electromagnetic disruption vest that Khur'an and Mariko had developed. It essentially disrupted the EM frequency of beam weapons, greatly reducing their deadly effects. It wasn't fool-proof, but it helped. Somehow they had designed it to read as organic when scanned by a vessel's internal secruity-grid, so that it read as part of the person wearing it, thus making it virtually undetectable.

Hidden inside an unseen pocket that ran the interior length of my left sleeve, I had some of my own gadgets. I had taken the idea from some of Mariko's ancestors, the ancient Ninja of feudal Japan. They were basically throwing-knives. Khur'an helped me use the tech of the EM vest to create the micro-circuitry that allowed the 'shuriken' to completely disrupt the EM field of the human body, causing instant brain-death. They were also made out of a synthetic compound that was stable in an oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere for only about 15 minutes. After that time, the knives dissolved into a serin-type nerve agent that had a persistant kill-radius of 10 meters. Khur'an tweaked the chemistry so that the nerve-agent would not be immiediately recognized by a computer's environmental protocols. Anyone who entered the kill-zone that was NOT equipped with both a resperator and protective clothing (BEFORE the enviro-protocols detected and neutralized it)met with a gruesome and violent death. This greatly reduced the chances of any wittnesses surviving to tell their tale. It paid to have an ex-weapons scientist on your crew.

There were two obvious draw-backs to using the shuriken. One was that they COULD be detected by a security scan, but since they were encased within the polymer sheathing that lined the inner pocket in my sleeve, they had never triggered a 'red-flag' from any sensors...yet. The second was the nerve-gas. Once the knives were exposed to an oxy-nitro atmosphere, I had only 15 minutes to get the hell outta there. There was no way I could carry the equipment needed to survive the nerve-agent and still pass a security scan. Additionally, if I were ever rendered unconscience, (with no hope of immiediate rescue) and the polymer sheathing was compromised, I could kiss my ass goodbye. The nerve-agent didn't care who it killed. It simply killed. Effectively.

The doors of the lift opened to reveal the shuttle flight-deck of the UCV-Deathstrike. Several 'flight engineers' were running around trying to get one of the shuttle ready for launch. We had a less formal command-structure aboard the Deathstrike then, I suspect, most of the other ships in the quadrant, so there wasn't any real 'OFFICER IN CHARGE OF FLIGHT ENGINEERS' or whatever the nomemclature would've been. There was basically just a bunch of guys who knew what the hell was going on down here, and knew that they had better get my shuttle ready to launch!

There was someone in charge down here, though. He was the big, burly Kandorian we called 'Smitty' (because he wouldn't tell us his real name) who barked orders and curses at the men on the flight-deck like it was an ancient Roman slave-galley.

I nodded curtly at Smitty and head to the shuttle that had the most activity around it. Smitty appearantly hadn't noticed me, as he was busy verbally thrashing one of the engineers who had dropped what appeared to be a container of power-relays. The components were scattered hapahzardly around the floor. The engineer was giving as good as he got, throwing back curses and graphically questioning the genetic-viabilty of Smitty's parentage. I smiled slightly to myself as I entered the shuttle. Another day aboard the DS.

I sat at the helm and began my pre-flight of the shuttle. The launch-status indicator went from red to yellow as I went through the check-list. When it flashed green, I activated the comm and opened a link to the bridge.

Mariko's brilliant green eyes flashed at me in the display terminal. She was obviously perturbed by something.

"What's up?" I said to the screen.

"Credian raiders have entered the region! They appear to be interested in those two Mandorian traders we detected earlier, but they're getting awfully close to that carrier. You might want to watch your ass out there, just in case. Mariko said, her attention focused on something I couldn't see.

"Got it. Tell Khur'an I'm ready to launch. Disable power to the launch controls when I get free, just in case. I said, mimicking Mariko's words. Her green eyes flashed at me again before I could close the link. Raiders sometimes liked to beam aboard independent ships and steal their shuttles and anything else they could get aboard it. They weren't getting anything of mine today!

I strapped myself into the shuttle, pressed the launch-ready button and held my breath. In less then a second I went from 1-g to about 3-gs as the shuttle was forcibly expelled form the Deathstrike.

Now I was virtually alone, piloting a modified, lightly armed (and lightly-shielded) shuttle-craft in hostile space, heading towards the unknown....


[ 04-21-2001: Message edited by: Shingen ]

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Guest Shingen


"Let him who hath understanding reacon the number of the beast..."

03:12 May,12 3008

Centris, Alpha Centauri

Aboard a shuttle-craft of the UCV-Deathstrike

In proximity of Orion starstation

The Credian vandal buzzed passed my shuttle-craft in full retreat, headed for the Tramis jump-point. It was heavily damaged, it's shields gone, and it's hull integrity near critical. I had slid my shuttle underneath the protection of Orion to watch the show, because the approach around the Megaron carrier was waaay too hot for my little craft. The carrier's PTA weapons were busy firing a continous volley of death towards the retreating raider. I even had to change my trajectory a few times just to avoid the 'friendly-fire'. The Deathstrike had remained neutral through the entire engagement, even though I knew she was ready to rock at the slightest provocation.

After the area had cleared of threats, I signaled my appraoch towards the carrier. I flew under the belly of the beast, curious of any visible damage that might serve as a tactical advantage, and set my auto-pilot for docking-manuevers. The Megaron's docking beam carefully tractored me into it's docking-bay and brought my shuttle to a full halt. I assumed that the full squad of marines that were standing at parade-rest inside the shuttle-bay were there for my benefit. Obviously, I had a more notorious reputation then I had thought. I finished my post-flight shut-down, activated the secruity-protocols, and exited the shuttle.

The first marine to approach me was a bear of a man. He was as wide as he was tall, about my height, but heavier, and he moved with a swiftness that I took careful note of.

His chevrons marked him as a gunnery-sargeant. There was a notable change in his demeanor when he finally got a good look at me. The tension level within the shuttle-bay rose by a factor of ten.

"Commander Shingen. I'm the secruity-sargeant assigned as your escort. Me and my men will insure that your visit aboard MY carrier is quick and by the book! A word of warning Mr. Shingen, my commander has ordered me to be cordial towards you while you are aboard, but if it were up to me, I'd beat the crap outta you and throw you in the brig! Make certain you follow my instructions to the letter! ANY deviations of my protocols will be answered with the deadlyest of force!" He said ominously, his nose only inches from my own. He attempted to stare me down for a few seconds, stressing his point, but when I glared back at him without blinking, he finally backed-off and gestured towards my side-arm.

"I'll take care of that," he said. "You won't be needing it while you're aboard."

I unstrapped the firearm and handed it, butt-first, to the sargeant. Still looking at me, he deftly examined the weapon, insuring it's safety switch was activated. He turned without removing his eyes from mine, and threw the weapon to one of the marines behind him.

"Corporal! Have you finished your inspection of this individual?" He yelled.

"Yes Sargeant! Scans indicate no threats!" returned a marine.

"Well then I guess we're good-ta-go" The sergeant glared at me, turned on his heel, and gestured toward the exit that lead to the interior of the carrier.

"After you, Commander."


[ 09-15-2004, 01:05 AM: Message edited by: Shingen ]

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Allright, here my introduction to this story and this galaxy for that matter


03:30 hrs, 12th May, 3008


Aboard Defender Class Vessel, SS Thyella

Nearing Centris, Alpha Centauri

Sparks were errupting from every which direction, most systems were offline, disabled or destroyed. Life support was barely holding up and the UCV Thyella would be lucky if her Inertial Compensator and Structural Integrity Field held up upon exiting Hyperspace. Her Pilot lay at the front of the small bridge, he was the only sentient aboard.

Falx alas' came out of his unconscious state and was terrified to discover that they were still in Hyperspace. Quickly rising to his full five feet the Valkerie began to shout orders to the ship, "Computer! Why the hell is the Jump Drive still active! Drop out of Hyperspace now!"

There was a few second of silence when all that could be heard was the sparking of computer consoles and the Jump Drive itself. Falx now knew that either the main computer was offline or the voice recognition systems. His grey, Raptor hands grazed the main console, pressing various buttons until the ship was abruptly shoved out of Hyperspace.

The black void of space was replaced by a rather unstable Jump Anamoly. Coming to a complete stop within a matter of seconds pressed both the SIF and IC to their limit. Of course if these failed the ship would be torn apart and any unlucky occupants would be splattered into the nearest bolted down object. Luckily for Falx, this did not happen, although the SIF was redlined after the ship came to an almost dead stop.

The SS Thyella was now rotating on three axis and anyone within the area who had sufficient scanners could clearly see she was disabled.

Falx attempted to scan for anything in the vicinity but the scanners were severally damaged. Enviromental controls were obvoiusly damaged or destroyed as Falx found it hard to move his stiff, frozen muscles. Several monitors and panels were ice glazed and the small Valkerie was lucky to have survived this long. All he could see out the main viewer were distant stars and a white planet which he thought could have been a number of planets, he was too far away to be any more specific.

"At least this means there is a sun nearby," Falx quietly muttered to himself. It was time to get this crate fixed up and before some nearby resident didn't like the look of him.


I was unsure of what the Valkerie look like for sure, so I took a couple of guesses. If anything is incorrect please do inform me.

Commander Falx (Valkerie/Mercenary)

UCV-Thyella (Defender)

"Wise Man: One who sees the storm coming before the clouds appear."

[ 04-22-2001: Message edited by: Commander Zeke Stone ]

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I leaned over the console. The corporal's face appeared on the screen.

- Yes corporal?

- He is aboard, sir

- Was he armed?

- One standard issue scat-10 pistol, plus 3 clips, sir.

Fool I thought. Are they even aware that they're dealing with an assassin I knew my welcoming party would only sound like a decoration for him. Now he's fully armed.

- On my way.

From the start this mission sounded weird. First of all, I had to remove all insignias on my hull, and stop emitting any IFF signal they must have detected me like the UCV-NO NAME I'm riding a Megaron! This thing is rarely available outside military factions!

And what about the mission? Sure, only a part-gammulan part-human assassin could do it the assassination of a gammulan high ranking officer But I have no choice : It's my mission, and failure at this moment will result in +2 violations.

I had to increase security protocols all around the ship. This thing contains 20 marines. I've assigned 14 of them to escort our guest, and 6 for search duty. I've closed every door than can be closed. Engineering is safe behind it's blast-proof heavy steel door. Our guest is currently being taken to the detention hold the safest place of this ship

When I arrive in the detention hold, he is already there. He got 4 marines posted in a square formation around him, rifle in hand. He seems suprised to be here, but not really stressed about it.

First, I take a deep breath, and clear my voice.

"Welcome on my ship, commander. Oh, yes, Shingen is your name. Can I call you Shingen? Doesn't matter. As you can see, I have increased my standard ship security protocols, because I am well aware that you are an assassin. In fact, you are among the best, which is quite respectable among your class."

I take a short pause to watch his reactions. He's not impressed at all. Good.

"But let's get to the point. Hostilities between the Terrans and the Gammulan have been quite idle since a relatively long period, each of them staying where they belong. But that's about to change. Intelligence watching the activity in the Gammulan sector have noticed a change lately, and since then they have been investigating on the future events that could happen. We have come to a conclusion that has nothing positive for the galaxy."

I'm taking another pause. He is still indifferent.

"The Gammulans are about to step out of their territory, this time not to strike in the Mandorian and Kandorian sectors. They have a much closer objective : gain control of the Zelana system, Controlling the access though the Lanix-V stargate to the hot spot of the credian sector, and cutting the galaxy in half. They are gathering a force of extreme magnitude, containing a minimum of 12 StormCarriers, 7 Firestorms and 3 Aëstroms, a force that we are practically unable to defend ourselves against. There might be even more, but that's the numbers we know."

I'm taking another deep breath. I'm coming to the hot part of the speech.

"Now, you must be asking yourself of the reason of your presence in this situation. We understand that you could never fight, or wouldn't, with your cruiser among a force we could be about to build, nor infiltrating each main ships and sabotaging them. What we want from you is to infiltrate their command ship, the StormCarrier BoneCrusher, and kill their fleet admiral. He is expected to be on the border of the Valkerie territory in about 1 week, so I recommend you to be fast."

I hate speeches. Really.

"Now that you know what we want you to do, let's talk about how you will proceed. We have chosen you not only because you are an elite assassin, but also by the fact that you are also a gammulan-human hybrid. Further intelligence have reported that the BoneCrusher will be waiting for a shuttle filled with marines in 2 days. The shuttle is an easy target, and you are to infiltrate it at the Valkerie starstation Cyclone in Cyron-IV. We have security clearances and passes to help you with your task. Now that you know everything about it, you have no choice, but to accept the contract. Refusal will result in a dozen headhunters after you. Success will result in the removal of your name in the current list of "wanted" people at Galcom, same thing for your entire crew, a reward a 60 millions galcreds and free repairs at Galcom HQ for one year or as long as you stay off the list. (pause) Now, if ever you have any question, comment or idea, now it is the moment to talk."

I can already imagine him trying to find a way to get the hell out of here.


Is 60 millions enough?

I'm in need of a covert operative infiltrated in the Deathstrike, if anyone want this role, tell it to me.

Sorry for the delay in my posting, had a few problems. If anything upper is wrong, tell it to me and I will correct it pronto

[ 04-20-2001: Message edited by: Epsilon 5 ]

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Guest Shingen

heheheh 29 posts and climbing!! I was wondering if this RP would ever get off the ground!


"...come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly..."

04:37 May,12 3008

Centris, Alpha Centauri

Aboard the Megaron Attack Carrier

In a holding pattern off Orion starstation

I stood and stared at the GalCom commander. He was a typical GalCom officer, impeccibly dressed, well groomed and extremely up-tight. There was a perimeter of four marines around me, each armed with an assault weapon, and I knew that there was more stationed outside the detention-bay's blast-doors. I had instinctively lowered my center-of-gravity, assuming a passive attack stance, and tried not to give way to my more aggressive tendancies.

The GalCom commander stood in silence, obviously waiting for my reply.

"You want me in inflitrate a Gammulan Command Star-ship, and kill the Fleet Commander? Are you freakin' insane? Even assuming that I could even get aboard the damn ship, I don't know enough about Gammulan military protocols to even get close to where I'd need to be to pull off the hit!" I said, clearing showing my irritation at such an insane proposal. "I assume that your secruity passes put me at a rank that gives me access to the command-staff?"

"Commander Shingen, GalCom is not stupid." He sighed, obviously as concerned by the ramifications of the mission as I. "We have examined all possible contingencies and problems that you might encounter. I was informed that you were the premier 'operative' for this mission. That's why you were approached."

The commander signaled to one of the marines standing around me. "Sergeant, please station your men outside of the detention-bay. I wish to speak to Mr. Shingen privately."

The marine started to protest but was cut-off by his commander. "I'm sure I'm quite safe with Mr. Shingen." He look me directly in the eye. "Unless, of course, you were planning on dying today..?"


Aboard the UCV-Deathstrike

Khur'an was nervous. It had been almost an hour since his commander had left for the Megaron carrier, with no word yet. What made him even more nervous was the fact that the Deathstrike was severely under-staffed! It was a fact aboard an independent ship that good help was hard to find, and harder to keep! There was no resource of trained recruits on which to draw replacements, like the Fleet ships enjoyed. Aboard an indie ship, you had to find help were you could, and hope that they could be trained, and more importantly...trusted!

Khur'an keyed the comm-link to the Med-Bay. Chief medical officer Susan Jakar answered the link. The was so much sweat on her brow that Khur'an could've thought that she had just finished a 10km run.

"Susan, how goes it with Benkei? I need to know when he'll be ready to come back to tactical. We aren't exactly in a reassuring position right now." Khur'an said, trying to throw in a little humor.

"G'or, give me a break, will ya! You guys want me to do delicate DNA procedures with sub-standard equipment! If you think you can do it any faster, the get your ass down here and help! she yelled, clearly upset by the situation. "Better yet, hire some freakin' help! I don't have enough medics down here to change a freakin' bandage more-less clone a freakin' human!"

"Look Susan, you don't have to jump down my throat! I was just asking! I'll see what I can do about getting you some more people down there. Can you give me an idea as to when Benkei will be finished?" Khur'an asked, trying to control his rising temper.

"At this rate, about 3 days minimum! Unless you either get me more help or a more advanced cloning module. That's all I can tell you! Jakar out!" The link was aburptly severed before Khur'an could reply. He silently cursed under his breath and rose from the command-chair.

"Mariko, Take command!" Khur'an yelled as he stormed off the bridge. He was going to have to do something about the people-problems on this ship... and fast!


[ 04-20-2001: Message edited by: Shingen ]

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Here I go again... blah blah blah...


As expected, he reacted badly to the " news " he had. He reacted very badly. But, as I said, it was expected. His mission : kill, or get killed. And currently, he seems to think that the last thing is the most likely.

Now I am alone with him, but I'm not feeling insecure at all. I'm sure that, considering the possible outcome, he won't even try to escape.

I wait a few seconds, just to lower the tension in the room. In a more relax tone, I continue speaking.

"We understand the level of danger induced in your mission. We are giving you a big favor, doing everything that is not directly related to the Gammulans nor the Valkeries. We are maybe hem maybe is not a good word here We are sending you on a suicide mission, but it's a critical mission that will decide the fate of the Galaxy for a while. We want you to succeed while assuring your survival, and we're giving you all possible tools."

Assuring his survival Sure

"About your position among the Gammulans You are to serve as a temporary combat officer, in charge of the marines in the ship. You can use your authority to give you more space, more room for actions, and you have access to anywhere on the ship. We have modified their database and even given you an history. With the amount of troops they have, we can give you that rank and the assignment without anyone noticing, or at least for the duration of the mission. Be warned, even if you were a true Gammulan, you would be watched, since you will be on the command vessel along with the fleet admiral at a critical moment. They will also know that you are part-human, and some of them will hate you for that. You'd better watch your back."

I wouldn't like to be in his position he's lucky we were able to integrate him in their database

"Now about some details. I will give you, in a short moment, a datapad of the all-you-should-know about the mission and about the Gammulan army system in general. Also, I've noticed that your ship is damaged. As soon as you will leave the ship, you will be permitted to do repairs at the Orion starstation. You will have the possibility to do repairs for a maximum amount of 2 millions galcreds. Those repairs will be free. You will also be escorted from here to the Trenis system by myself and a specially mounted escort of several fighters and 2 Warmongers super-cruisers. After that, you will be on your own."

I hope it was a good idea to give the mission to him. I'm not sure it would even have been good to give this mission to anyone

"If you have any question regarding the mission, I'd be pleased to answer them at this moment."


Tha big guns are ready for a standard escort. Just relax and don't feel threatened.

[ 04-20-2001: Message edited by: Epsilon 5 ]

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Guest Shingen


"Generals gathered in thier masses, Just like witches at black-masses..."

04:45 May, 12 3008

In the Detention Hold

Aboard the Megaron Attack Carrier

I sat on the metal bench that lined the wall of the detention-bay and stared at my hands, thinking. The GalCom commander sat next to me, also silent in thought. If anyone had walked in then, without knowing the circumstances, they probably would've thought we were old buddies. Truth was indeed stranger then fiction.

The mission itself didn't scare me. I had faced death a thousand times before. Death was apart of life...part of the profession. It was the Gammulans that scared me. Other then the few Gammulan mercs I had met and known, I really had never been around them. I knew nothing about their social structures, the language, the personal quirks that all species had. Knowledge like that (or the lack thereof) was the difference between a successful mission and a quick death. It was one thing to stand off and kill someone from a 1000 klicks. It was quite another to get up close and personal and kill someone while looking them in the eyes. In order to pull of this gig, I'd have to get up-close-and-personal with a Gammulan Fleet Admiral! The secruity would be too tight to attempt anything else.

And I had serious doubts that I would be accepted as one of their own. I mean, how many Human-Gam hybrids could there be floating around in the Gammulan military? My guess would be none, or next to none. All this for 60 million creds and a year free repairs? I really needed to have my head examined.

I turned to take a long look at the GalCom commander. He looked tired and beat, like he hadn't had enough sleep. There were black rings under his eyes, and his eyes themselves, held the sorrow of too many friends lost to the war.

"Suicide mission, huh?" I said smiling. "...and if I don't take this mission you'll have 20 mercs after my scalp? Probably confiscate my ship as well, huh Fleet? What a freakin' joke!"

I rose from the metal bench commited to my course. "Give me the bloody data-pad, and any intel you've got on the Stormcarrier. I want 15 vagrants, 15 ralix, a new cloning module, and enough fuel to get there and back. Theses conditions are nonnegotiable. Take it or leave it."

The commander stood to look me in the eyes. He hesitated a moment as if contemplating the new conditions. "Here's the data-pad." He said, handing me the small, square data-storage device. "It has complete specs on all we know of the Gammulan Stormcarrier-class. We've never captured one intact, so most of the data is from wreakage we've captured and analyzed. Also, there is data of the Gam's military structure. It ain't much so you'll probably have to improvise." The commander walked over and stood in front of the blast-doors. "I'll draw up the paper-work and have your supplies ready when you dock at Orion. Is there anything else?"

"Yeah, I could use a wing and a prayer."


I need to know if anyone else is going to join this thread, otherwise I'm carrying on without ya!

[ 04-21-2001: Message edited by: Shingen ]

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Okay, now that I have the editing done with, on with the writing!


0500 hrs, 12th May, 3008

Aboard Defender Class Vessel, UCV Thyella

Aft Section

"Damn!" the Valkerie yelled after shocking himself.

Falx was laying under computer terimnal attempting to splice to wires together. This was the last step in bringing the comms system back online.

He had a barrel fire going in an attempt to heat the small ship. He found this to be the only method of heating the ship as the enviromental controls were damaged beyond repair. Falx was just happy that the artificial gravity and life support was still operating.

The ship was running off of the solar reactor and therefor everything went offline everytime the rotating ship was pointing it's solar panels away from the sun. Falx had attempted to calculate approximately when this would occur but since the ship was rotating on three axis it was next to impossible without a computer.

The last wire was connected now and the old merc merely had to activate the comms via one of the only consoles not spitting out sparks on a regular basis. When he activated the comms a couple of monitors and panels burst and sparked more violently than usual.

Damn overloads. Come on old girl, hold it together for just a little longer. Falx tried to keep a positive mind as he ran a few system checks to make sure the comms were working. Gratified to find that they were he began to emmit an SOS signal, hoping some Merc looking for easy cash or maybe a nice Trader would want give him a hand. What he didn't want was Galcom help, as he was wanted by them for abducting one of their Commanders.

Now, onto the sensors. I want to be able to see whats out there.



Commander Falx (Valkerie/Mercenary)

UCV-Thyella (Defender)

"You have all eternity to be cautious in when you're dead."

[ 04-21-2001: Message edited by: Commander Zeke Stone ]

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Let's see if I can contribute.

05:00 AM 12th May 3008

Aboard the UCV Outlaw Star, Alpha Centauri



Being a merc ain't so easy as I thought. I gotta share my creds equally between myself and the crew to maintain this damn ship.

As I ponder the stars I can't help but wonder

about job opportunities.

"Curameng, park us near the jumpgate and make a full halt."

The Outlaw Star had a skeleton crew but we made do with what available resources we had.

My ragtag crew consisted of various races who shared a common goal: working any job if the price and work is right.

Flying this monster is Jerelle Curameng a human who can mow through any obstacle. Working the weapons systems is another human of Asian descent named "Twighlight" Suzuka. Working navigation is Melfina, a Droidan. My jack of all trades chief engineer is A Vesperon named Dakhath. Handling internal security is Seether my Kandorian combat officer who's warrior pride can get the best of him. And finally my medical officer is a human named Jensine Largado who's soft touch makes you feel at home.

"Twighlight, monitor enemy traffic and lay crab mines just in case we get ambushed."

Being the most hated race in the galaxy was tough and being a Gammulan commander with a crew of different races took time to adapt.

But we had no real ground rules. Every one of us were free to express our opinions of what we wanted to do and it worked.


[ 09-15-2004, 01:25 AM: Message edited by: Shingen ]

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Guest Shingen


05:15 May,12 3008

shuttle-bay of the UCV-Deathstrike

The return trip to the Deathstrike was uneventful. After I had brought the shuttle to a complete halt and completed the post-fight, I exited the shuttle and took a long, deep breath. The air inside the shuttle-bay was stale and smelled of fuel and lubricant. Besides myself, there was only one other person in the bay. He walked over to the shuttle and began it's pre-flight maintanance. I nodded towards him and headed towards the lift. I entered the lift and said: "Bridge." The lift began it's ascent.

When I reached the bridge I found Mariko at command, and Kelar still and the helm. Khur'an was nowhere to be seen. When Mariko noticed me she stood and stepped away from the command-chair.

"Mariko, report. Where's Khur'an?" I said as I walked towards my chair.

Khur'an is down in the med-bay helping Susan. They got into it over the personel problems down there. That and the fact that the cloning module hasn't been replaced in like forever. She walked up and took over the tactical station.

"The regions been quiet since those raiders left. There is a Defender-class fighter that's damaged and drifting, but I didn't know if you wanted me to hail them, what with you gone and all." Mariko zoomed the TacOps to center on the disabled fighter.

Hmmm, UCV-Thyella huh? I thought Clearly not one of the Megaron's fighters. Might be another indie in need of a hand.

"They jumped in through Sol about 15 minutes ago. I did a scan and it looks like they're severly damaged. I'm reading minimum life-support, and it looks like they're engines and weapon systems are off-line. No shields to speak of, either. I'm getting no SOS signal either, so they're comm-system must be down as well. You want me to try and hail them?"

"Yeah, see if they need any help. We can never have enough friends that owe us favors." I said, winking at Mariko.


Med-bay of the UCV-Deathstrike

"Susan, see if you can re-intialize the molecular-scanners. I getting errors all over the place." Khur'an said as he typed into the computer-terminal. Things weren't going well with the cloning module. So far it had refused to read Benkei's DNA as terran. The sequences were right, but the genetic stabilizer kept changing the structure, so that when the scanner read it, it would get errors and lock-up the systems.

The comms-panel lit-up and Khur'an activated it. Shingen stared back at him through the screen.

"Hey boss, good to see ya back. Are we a go or no-go on the contract.?" Khur'an said while reconfiguring the stabilizer.

"We'll need to talk about that. How goes it down there? Any luck with Benkei?"

"Nada. This freakin' module in on it's last leg. I suggest we put in for another one, if you want your tactical officer anytime soon."

"Got it covered. Get up here, I need you at Ops. There's a Defender-class fighter that might need our help, and we can use all the friends we can get, at this point. Then we're gonna do a little horse-trading at Orion that'll fix us up real nice. How does that sound to you?"

"Sounds like plan. Susan's about ready to throw me outta here anyway." Khur'an glanced over at the chief med. officer who was cursing and swearing at the cloning module's componants.

Khur'an set his terminal on a diagnostic mode and walked over to Susan. "Sounds like the boss-man;s got you a new cloning module. Don't you feel loved now?" He said with a hint of sarcasm.

"Screw you, Khur'an" She said as she began to pull out relay-chips and wiring. "Just let me know when I can scrap this piece of junk, will ya?"

Khur'am exited the med-bay and headed for the bridge. When he got there, he walked over and took up the Ops station. Shingen and Mariko were busy having a conversation about the fighter that filled the bridge-viewer.

"I've hailed them. but I've gotten no reply. I put in on a repeating cycle, so I would assume that they'll answer when they can. Either that or they don't want any help." Mariko zoomed the TacOps out to show the entire region.

"Khur'an, what's ship's status?" I asked

"Minor hull damage reported on deck 2, structural integrity holding. Weapons and shields are damaged but operational. Engines are being repaired, but fuel consuption is still elevated. We'll need to re-fuel both engines and shields soon."

"Keler, set a course for that fighter. Let's see if they need any help."


[ 04-23-2001: Message edited by: Shingen ]

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**Note: I have changed my characters height from 6 feet to 5 feet. A little advise from Fleet Cmdr. Savage. **


05:35 hrs, 12th May, 3008

Defender Class Vessel UCV-Thyella

Aft Section

Falx was starting to open up a panel leading to sensors, he wasn't quite sure exactly what was wrong.

BEEP . . . BEEP . . . BEEP

He quickly realized that someone had hailed him and walked over to the operating console. Actually he merely had to turn around, the back of the ship was so small and cramped.

Bringing the hail up he could see that it was coming from a Solnar Heavy Cruiser designated UCV-DeathStrike. Though he could not reply to the hail until he got the sensors working.

Back to the panel he took off the remaining two screws and took a look inside. Falx had to flick on his small flashlight as the power went off once again. Looked like a couple of burnt wires and a fried resistor.

Five minutes later the Valkerie was sitting in his pilot seat sending a reply message. The main console, surprising was the other console not spitting out sparks on a regular basis.

Falx did not want the person asking to many questions about what happened to him or what he was carrying, so he decided to make something up ahead of time. His message stated:

This is Commander Falx of the Defender Class Fighter, UCV-Thyella. I was attacked by a group of Pirates in a Warmonger. My vessel is severally damaged and I need immediate repairs. Willing to pay your crew for repairs, transportation and protection, would prefer to avoid Galcom interference. I am carrying some minerals which I would prefer is left alone. Falx out

After sending the message he scanned the area to see where he was and what was around him. There was a undesignated Megaron near to the DeathStrike. A military vessel. Could be a trap, nah, they wouldn't need to set up a trap on me right now. This thought re-assured Falx a bit, but he still didn't like the look of this whole situation. Besides that there was merely Terran/Trader LRT-10 designated UCV-Tidal Wave, which just entered the region from Tramis. Actually his scanners were so damaged at the momment he could not even see the jumpgates, he just knew the region well. He also took note that he had somehow ended up in Centris.


Not sure what system you are in Outlaw, you merely put Alpha Centauri. So I covered myself accordingly


Commander Falx (Valkerie/Mercenary)

UCV-Thyella (Defender)

"Life is either a daring adventure or nothing."

[ 04-22-2001: Message edited by: Commander Zeke Stone ]

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"Alright Curameng, take us into Centris and make an approach vector on the planet."

"Aye sir. Any luck on getting some jobs?"

"Alas no, but I have a feeling that someone here will be needing an extra gun." There hasn't been any action in Alpha Centauri for a while now and Galcom patrols have increased.

"Outlaw, there are some merc ships in the area, should we hail them?" Suzuka was getting exited by the minute.

"No let them call us. I want it to be a surprise."

I smell a job and it smells great!


[ 09-15-2004, 01:24 AM: Message edited by: Shingen ]

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"Give me the bloody data-pad, and any intel you've got on the Stormcarrier. I want 15 vagrants, 15 ralix, a new cloning module, and enough fuel to get there and back. Theses conditions are nonnegotiable. Take it or leave it."

That's what he said, and my superiors didn't liked it, but the mission was more important. A couple of missiles, a 8 millions credits cloning module and 3500 radine units, nah, it's nothing.

Oh, and we lost one of the escort vessels we mounted for Mr. Shingen.

At 0503, he exited the ship. Just after that, I started running deep bioscans everywhere he have been, to see if he let us some suprise.

In the meantime, there were a couple of engineers repairing my primary sensor array. There have been a fight just before he came aboard a pack of raiders. I took minor damages, but my sensors were quite damaged by a well placed Firestar.

Back on the bridge, I sit on the command-chair, watching the defenders wuzzing around my ship.

Thomas calls me thru the ship's comm system from engineering.

- The sensors arrays have been repaired, sir. I'm currently giving it back full strenght.

- Good.

As the TacOps screen come back alive, Tania returns to her post, scanning for anything new.

Tania is a young female human, born on Mars. She's got long blonde hair, and deep blue eyes. She's shorter than most anyone on this vessel, but that don't bother her much. She always do her job well as navigation officer. This ship is the first that she have been assigned since she's out of Galcom's academy.

My thought are interrupted by her sweet voice.

"Commander, 3 vessels appeared on sensors since when we lost them."

"Can I have details?"

"1 Trading vessel, a LRT-10, and 2 merc ships. A Sunflash class cruiser called the UCV-Outlaw Star and one Defender-class fighter, badly damaged."

"A Sunflash how interesting what about out friend?"

"The shuttle is back on the Deathstrike he's heading for the fighter, called UCV-Thyella. I can hardly read his designation. I hail him?"

"No. Let our friend have some distraction. Just warn me if he charge weapons. Kate, open a channel with the Sunflash."

In the 8 officers of my ship, 4 are women. Kate is one of them. She is an experienced communication officer. She have already been a flight officer and tactical officer, so she is a very useful asset to my ship. She's tall, her hair is grey and her eyes are dark brown. I already asked her why she kept her hair grey, unlike the other older officers, and she answered that she wasn't afraid of her age.

"This is commander Epsilon 5 from the Megaron heavy carrier, designation classified, to the mercenary vessel Sunflash heavy cruiser UCV-Outlaw Star. We may have a contract that will interest you. I repeat, this is commander Epsilon 5 from the Megaron heavy carrier, designation classified, to the mercenary vessel Sunflash heavy cruiser UCV-Outlaw Star. We may have a contract that will interest you."


I smell the money and I smell lots of it.

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Disregard the parts where I said I had a cloaker since this class of ship cannot carry one.


Aft section, UCV-Outlaw Star


Walking around the ship was great. The freedom of exploring not just the stars but the inside of the ship observing the activities of my crew at work.

I happened to catch Seether nearby and I was thinking of learning some combat tactics.

"Seether, hold up! I was wondering if we can talk." The bulky Kandorian walked towards me with a warrior's posture and demeanor.

"Hello Outlaw, is there something I can do for you?"

"Yes, I was wondering if you and I would like to have spar a little for a while, to brush up on unarmed combat." Seether smiled aknowledging to accept.

"Of course. Just so you know, since we don't have a marine contingent aboard, it'll be us and the crew to fend off intruders. I will schedule martial arts classes for the crew on a weekly basis to keep us ready."

Being a Gammulan, combat is a very important skill to my race and the crew needed these skills to survive.

"Outlaw, Megaron-class carrier is hailing us. Were back in business!"

"Well I guess were gonna have to cut that spar session short this time big guy. Sorry about that. We'll catch up later alright?"

"No problem. I look forward to learning some of your Gammulan fighting skills." Seether smiled as he turned and walked away.

As I raced to the bridge I can't help but feel excited so I unleashed a thunderous Gammulan war cry at the top of my lungs.

"Alright Twighlight, put it onscreen."

We were back in the game.


[ 04-23-2001: Message edited by: Outlaw ]

[ 04-23-2001: Message edited by: Outlaw ]

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Guest Shingen

Indie RP Reality check

OK, just so that everyone is on the same page, here's the situation so far...(at least the way I see it):

The Deathstrike has jumped over to where the UCV-Thyella is. (Sol wormhole) Epsilon 5 is still holding off of Orion, and the UCV-Outlaw Star has entered the Centris region. (I don't know which jump-point yet.) I don't know where the LRT-10 UCV-Tital Wave came from, or what it's doing. The UCV-Apocolypse is still cloaked around the Tramis jump-point, and at this point, I'm either going to have to RP this ship myself, or someone is going to have to speak-up. I'm sure that the radiation-levels aboard the Apocolypse are getting critical.

A word about the time-line. In about 3 or 4 posts, my part of the thread is going to jump ahead 2 days. It's redundant for me to script the entire journey from Centris to Cyron-IV. (unless you guys have other ideas) So, this said, I might be screwing up everyone else's time-line. Since I'm the one that started this thread, I assume that it falls to me to make sure that everything flows along smoothly...but I don't consider this my thread. This is our thread, the Indie's thread, so we all need to make sure we're reading from the same page. Otherwise this thread is going to die from a bunch of unrelated/unconnected events in alot of unrelated/unconnected time-lines. The reason why I used the 'clock' format was to keep the thread moving...but if we're all writing unrelated sub-plots to the main plot, then eventually we're going to get a bunch of posts that jump around and no one is going to know what's going on, or where...and I doubt that they are going to take the time to sift through all the past posts to find out. So we need to make a decision.

Either we keep the 'clock' format and keep all the posts within 15 or 20 minutes of each other, or we kill the 'clock' format and use only the date and year. This presents some advantages and problems. The advantage is that we'll have 24 hours to 'assume' where we are and what's going on. (I'm guessing that we're using military time here) But the problem is that no one will know exactly where we are and when a specific event took place.

If it was up to me, I'd keep everyone within 15 to 20 minutes of each other, but that means you guys are going to have to jump around the time-line with me, or script your sub-plots to follow the main plot.

In cases anyone doesn't know, so far the main plot is that the Deathstrike has been hired to kill a major Gammulan officer. I can think of about 10 or 15 sub-plots that could work around the main plot and not overly contridict the time-line.

Since I have no clue as to what the other sub-plots involve, I just want everyone to take into account the time-line and how it effects everyone else.

What would you guys say to starting another thread to deal with the Indie RP 'notes', so we don't keep cluttering up this thread with extended conversations and clarifications. I think it would make this thread easier to follow.

Epsilon 5,

Since the 'meeting' is over, I think that your ship can go back to Fleet SOP. (using your ship's designation, name, ect.) but I'll leave this up to your discretion.


Since I don't know why you're in the Centris region or what your sub-plot is, I'm going to let you script our 'meeting', 'cause I don't know what your character is doing. If you want me to script the encounter, then I'm going to have to 'assume' what your doing and why your there.

Let me know what you think.

[ 04-23-2001: Message edited by: Shingen ]

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Shingen, I tought the part where you go from Alpha Centauri to Trenis would be with us, since in this part you will be escorted. From Trenis to Cyron-IV is at your discretion.

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Guest Shingen


Shingen, I tought the part where you go from Alpha Centauri to Trenis would be with us, since in this part you will be escorted. From Trenis to Cyron-IV is at your discretion

Yeah, that's right, I just didn't think scripting the entire journey was necessary. You'll still escort me to Trenis. That's part of the story-line now.

Any ideas on the other issues covered in my above post?

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I do think we should start another thread for notes. As for our meeting, well to tell you the truth I don't actually have a sub-plot of any sorts yet, I was going to develope that as things move along. But my character is not likely to tell anyone anything about his current contract (assuming he has one, not sure yet ) or anything about himself or cargo until he either trusts you and feels he needs your help or until he absalutely has to. Quite a paranoid Valkerie

I can write the meeting if you want but certain decisions I would have to leave up to you.

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Guest Shingen


05:43 May, 12 3008

Centris, Alpha Centauri

Aboard the UCV-Deathstrike

approaching the Sol wormhole.

"We're finally getting a return hail, Commander. It's audio only." Mariko said from her position at tactical.

"Let's Hear it."

This is Commander Falx of the Defender Class Fighter, UCV-Thyella. I was attacked by a group of Pirates in a Warmonger. My vessel is severally damaged and I need immediate repairs. Willing to pay your crew for repairs, transportation and protection, would prefer to avoid Galcom interference. I am carrying some minerals which I would prefer is left alone. Falx out

"Open a frequency, Mariko. Let's see if we can get a visual." I said.

"Right Commander." Mariko keyed a few buttons, and after a few seconds the main bridge-viewer flickered to reveal the face of a Valkerie. He was dirty and sweaty, with soot and grease smudges on his brow and clothes.

"This is the Thyella. I'm Commander Falx. Are you friend or foe?" said the startled Valkerie. He craned his neck up towards his viewer as if he was trying to get a better look inside my ship.

"This is the Deathstrike. I'm Commander Shingen. We noticed that you were in a little trouble so we thought we might be able to lend a hand." I said, standing up from my command-chair and walking towards the bridge-viewer.

"Your a Gammulan? Hmpf! I don't want nothing from no stinkin' Gams!" He said with contempt and turned to continue repairs on his vessel.

"I'm terran, and don't press your luck! I just thought you could use some help but if you don't..."

"Terran huh?" He said as he turned around. "You don't look very terran to me, you look like a Gam." He thought about it for a second then added: "But I ain't in no position to be critical, so I'll be acceptin' any help you might be offerin'."

The Valkerie walked over to the helm and sat down. "I've got major systems failures all over the place. My engines are shot and I got no damn weapons. I'm holding her together with duct-tape and bailin'-wire."

"We can either dock you with the DS or we can beam an engineer over with some repair supplies. If you want we can tow you to Orion Starsta..."

"I won't be needing GalCom sniffing around my ship, if you don't mind." he said, cutting me off in mid-sentence. "It'll take more then an engineer and some bandaids to get this girl back on-line." He looked up again at his viewer. "That's a Solnar you got there, ain't it?"

"She's big enough for your little fighter. I'll have to launch a shuttle to make room, but I'm sure there's a debris field or two that can keep it busy till we get you fixed up." I said to the Valkerie. "I'm kinda pressed for time so I need to know your preference."

The Valkerie stared at the screen for a second and rubbed his jaw in thought. "Give me a few minutes and I'll get back to you."

"Don't take all day. Deathstrike out."

The bridge-viewer flickered again to reveal the TacOps scan of the region.


There Zeke, that'll give you a little room to play with. You can either come aboard the DS or you can have someone beam over. I had to improvise with your character a-bit so I hope you don't mind.

[ 04-23-2001: Message edited by: Shingen ]

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Sorry I took so long to post this. I was typing it up last night and this lightning storm came out of nowhere, I heard a snap, crackle and pop type thing, my modem disconnected and I could feel static electricity emanating from my keyboard. Of course my first thought was "oh ****" and I performed an emergency shutdown via the power switch, so I lost the story. But here it is again :


05:50 hrs, 12th May, 3008

Defender Class Vessel, UCV Thyella


"Don't take all day. Deathstrike out."

It was decision making time for Falx, he could either board the DeathStrike, float around in space and wait for someone else, or find another way. Each decision had a good side and a bad side, just like any other decision he had ever made.

Docking with the Deathstrike would involve intrusting his ship and his life in the hands of a Gammulan. He had never in his life met a Gammulan who had honor, the same could be said for every Valkerie he had ever met as well. This Commander had said that he was Terran and he certainly did have some differences than most Gams, but that was just the kind of trick a Gammulan would try to pull on some unsuspecting sap.

Docking would also mean a higher risk of his cargo being discovered. Sure he had it well hidden beneath some minerals, but some nosey engineer could start scanning his cargo with a high quality scanner.

This did not seem to bother him as much as trusting a Gam did, he had been raised in a society who Generally disliked Gammulans and Valkerie. His birth parents were very loyal warriors of the Valkerie Military. In fact they were so loyal that his mother remained on active duty during pregnacy, this is how his mother ended up dead and he ended up being raised by Mandorians. Of course over the years the Mandorians dislike for Gams and Valkerie washed onto him, especially when the Valkerie starting fighting with the Mandorians for control of Rinaal.

What if I refuse him? Could I last out here in the Centris region until I repair Thyella myself? Not likely with that Galcom station nearby, they had undoubtedly noticed him allready. Why hadn't they sent a ship for him yet? Everwhere Falx looked things seemed to be stranger than usual, a Gam offering help, an undesignated Megaron nearby, Orion HQ not sending a ship to arrest him, even after he activated his SOS. On top of all of that there was a weird feeling in the air, Falx couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he knew it was there.

Falx re-opened the link to the DeathStrike, Show no fear, he reminded himself. The Gammulan Commander was sitting in his command chair taping his fingers in a rythmical manner. Like any proud warrior, Shingen stood at the sight of Falx. Falx would have done the same, but then his head would not have been visible on the view screen. Instead Falx simply nodded respectfully and starting speaking.

"I have decided to dock with that big ship of yers. I have never met a Gammulan worth trusting, but I let's see if we can change that number, allright? We should agree on a good price after yer fellas have taken a peak at this old beater of mine."

Falx noticed that Commander Shingen did not appear to have a full crew on the ship, a good sign that he was indeed an Indie.



Commander Falx (Valkerie/Mercenary)

UCV-Thyella (Defender)

"There is perhaps nothing so bad and so dangerous in life as fear."

[ 04-25-2001: Message edited by: Commander Zeke Stone ]

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Guest Shingen


06:13 May,12 3008

Centris, Alpha Centauri

Near the Sol worm-hole

The shuttle-launch doors of the UCV-Deathstirke opened and it's two T1-class modified shuttle-craft launched, one after the other. The first headed towards the disabled Defender-class fighter that was spinning helplessly in open space. It locked onto the fighter with it's tractor-beam, and headed back towards the Solnar. The other shuttle took off for a debris field that was on the other side of the region, in search of anything good it could find.

When both shuttle and fighter were secured in the launch-bay, the Deathstrike headed back towards Orion starstation at impulse speed.

When Commander Falx exited his damaged fighter, he was fully armed and ready for anything. To his surprise, there was no armed escort waiting for him. In fact, other then the pilot of the shuttle that had brought him in, there was only three other people in the shuttle-bay. The biggest one looked to be Kandorian, and he didn't appear to have the slightest interest in Falx. Falx took the opportunity to look around his surroundings. The bay was neat and organized, but it didn't have the look of a fleet ship, Terran or otherwise. This was definitely an indie ship, no doubt about it. Falx began to relax a little.


Bridge of the DS

"They've entered the debris field, Commander. I've instructed them to operate a stardard cargo-sweep and to stand-off Orion when they get a full load." Mariko reported. She had been on station now for 10 hours straight and was starting to get very tempermental. "Commander, I need a break. I've been looking at these damn systems for so long that they are starting to get on my nerves."

I swiveled in my command-chair and looked up at Mariko. She did look tired and tired people were dangerous. I needed everyone sharp if we were going into Gammulan space.

"Kelar, how long till we reach Orion?" I asked the helmsman, who also looked ragged and beat.

"At present speed, about 45 minutes. Give or take." He returned. He rubbed his eyes and tried to focus on his system controls.

"OK, put everything on auto and you guys gets some rest. I don't think we're in any immiediate danger. If things were gonna heat up, they would've already started." I stood up from my chair and headed for the lift. "I'll go and greet our guest. You guys take it easy for awhile. But if anything happens I want you up here and ready to rock!"

I paused for a second, noticing that Khur'an was still at Ops. "How about you Khur? You want to take off for awhile?" I ask the Vesperon.

"I'll take it easy when we're out of GalCom space!" Khur'an said. He walked down from Ops and sat at the command-chair. "You guys go ahead. I keep an eye on things here."



Smitty looked down at the little Valkerie and tried not to laugh. The little guy looked like he had gotten into a fight with a reactor-core and lost. He was dirty and grimy and he smelled like he hadn't had a shower in days. The little guy had walked over to where Smitty was and smiled up at him. "Excuse me friend, are you the one I need to talk to about repairs on my vessel?"

"The boss will be down in a sec." The big Kandorian said. "Just cool your heels for a bit, and we'll get that little bird of yours fixed up." Smitty went back to his parts-inventory and kept a tab on the little Valkerie with the corner of his eye.



Before I headed down to the launch-bay. I stoped by my command-quarters to change out of my assassin's garb and to secure my little gadgets. I changed into a civilian set of flight BDUs*, put on my flight jacket, and grabed all my personal-access key-cards. I sat down at my desk, and keyed the sub-space comm-link. I started the encryption algorithim, and opened a hail to the UCV-Apocolypse.

The face of the Mandorian Commander Rothik jumped up on the screen.

"This is Commander Rothik of the Apocolypse." said the Mandorian.

"Rothik, this is Shingen. What's your status?"

"Well it's about damn time! What the hell are you guys doing? Khur'an told us to keep cloaked till we heard from you, but that was a couple hours ago. We had to jump to Tramis to de-cloak 'cause of the radiation."

"Sorry, I just got back from the briefing awhile ago. We picked up a disabled Defender that was floating off of the Sol jump-point and brought it aboard for repairs. There was a Valkerie commanding it, but I think he's just another indie. I figured we could use another possible ally."

"So what was the contract? Is it gonna pay enough for both of us? I got better things I could be doing ya know."

"I don't think you wanna take this one. It's more of a one-man gig, but I'll transfer your retainer to take care of your time." I keyed into the comm-link the credit transfer to the Apocolypse. "You going to be anywhere near Cyron-IV in a couple of days? That's where the mission starts and I might need your Nightstar if the Deathstrike gets into anything she can't handle alone."

"I got a load of deflector-arrays headed to Polaris. We can hook up there if your in the region. Other then that, I'm available. Why the hell are you going into Cyron-IV? That region is hotter then a white-dwarf star!"

"I can't go into details. Just keep yourself open in the next few days. I'll make it worth your time, don't worry. Deathstrike out."

I closed the link, got up from my desk and headed for the shuttle-bay. When I got down to there, I walked over to the damaged Defender-class fighter that was moored in bay-2. I put my hands on the ship and rubbed the hull. There were extensive blast marks all over the hull, that appeared to be from PTA weapon's fire. The carbon residue came off on my hand, and I rubbed it off with a nearby rag. A ragged looking Valkerie came out from behind the fighter and offered me his hand.

"You must be Commander Shingen. I'm Falx. Commander of this here Defender." He said with a smile.

I took his hand and returned the greeting. His grip was firm, and I could tell that there was alot of power in his arm. He also made definite eye contact. There was one thing I hated and that was a wimpy hand-shake from someone who couldn't look you in the eye.

I'm Commander Shingen. Welcome aboard the UCV-Deathstrike. She ain't much but we call her home." I said, leading the Valkerie off towards Smitty, who was standing by the central computer-terminal. "It's a good thing we got to you first. There's been a lot of raiders in this region lately"

I walked up to Smitty and said: "This here's Smitty. He's in charge down here. Have you guys met or do I need to do an introduction?"

Smitty looked down at me from his computer-terminal and scowled. "We've already had the pleasure." He continued to do his inventory as if we had suddenly disappeared.

"So, Commander, what's all this hospitality gonna cost me?" asked Falx "Don't tell me you're helping me from the kindness of your heart... I've been out in this galaxy too long. I know better."

"Well Mr. Falx. I'm not sure yet what it's gonna take to get your fighter operational. But I'm certain we can come to some kind of arrangement." I led Commander Falx off towards the lift. "For now, let's get you set up with some quarters so you can get yourself cleaned up. You're welcome to roam the ship as you please, you can go to the galley and the other common areas, but make sure you stay away from places where you know you don't belong. I'll only warn you once. Don't test my patience. I guarantee you won't like the results."


*-Battle Dress Uniform

There ya go Zeke. As I said, you can roam the ship, but I wouldn't go anywhere that would get you killed. Remember, this is an assassin vessel, not a cruise ship.

[ 04-26-2001: Message edited by: Shingen ]

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Good stuff; keep it coming. I might join, after Into The Fire.

Outlaw: (Well, they stopped showing Outlaw Star on Toonami beginning of this month. Well, at least I still have Tenchi! lol).

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**Note: I am switching to first person. I need to brush up, been writing third person for all of my forum stories but I write first person in my novel**


06:20 hrs, 12th May, 3008

Solnar Heavy Cruiser UCV-Deathstrike

Shuttle Bay

As I awaited the ships Commander I decided to take a look at the outside of my ship. After a few momments of feeling and smelling the battered hull I came to the conclusion that the indside looked worse.

I began to laugh quietly to myself, it was finally hitting me that I had actually survived the whole ordeal. Of course this contract wasn't completed yet, but at least now I was on a larger ship.

A new smell hit my nose, it was that of a Gammulan, but I could also smell something else, he had told the truth about being partially Terran. The Commander must have been nearby. I ventured around to the other side of my ship and found the man also examining my hull. At first sight I couldn't help but curl my lip up slightly, it was always my first reaction at the sight of a Gammulan. I quickly turned it into a smile, I was going to give this Gammulan a chance to prove to be more than just a Gammulan.

After a formal greeting I asked about the terms of our deal and he seemed to be acting friendly about it, saying he would have to look at the ship first, as I knew he would. Of course like any Commander he made sure I knew that I was only a guest on his ship, which was okay I wasn't planning on staying any longer than I had to.

"Say, you wouldn't know anything about that undesignated Megaron nearby would you?" I asked him casually as he escorted me to some quarters.

"Oh that is nothing important. Just some Commie trying to fool any unsuspecting Criminal who happens to be passing through." the Commander told me. It sounded like a reasonable explaination, but I had a feeling there was more to it. I also had a feeling that he didn't want me poking my nose into things, so I dropped the subject.

There was minor chatting as we finished the route to my new quarters, but nothing important. I disparted from the Commander thinking that so far he was certainly better than any Gammulan I had ever met. I would follow his rules for now, since I had no reason not to. As I thought through what I was going to do next I decided the first I need to do was clean up, trying to hold that wreck together was turning my skin black.



Commander Falx (Valkerie/Mercenary)

UCV-Thyella (Defender)

"As every thread of gold is valuable, so is every moment of time."

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