tchar

There seemed to be a lot of activity as T'char was leaving the Naval Defence headquarters. It appeared as if a battle could be imminent. On his way out, he stopped at the information desk at the entrance. "Excuse me, where might I find a Captain Sol Sebala?" The twi'lek behind the desk looked up. "I'm afraid i cant give out that kind of information to unauthorised civilians. Do you have any clearance?" T'char handed over the clearence pass he had been using for the past few days. "That seems to be adequate, Mr T'char." she said after passing the disk trough a reader. "I'm afraid Captain Sebala is unavailable at this time, he is attending a Squadron Leader's briefing at the moment. Would you like me to leave a message?" "No, that's fine. I'll wait." He settled into one of the large lounges for the wait.

Hey all. I'm kinda playing the loose cannon at the moment - im happy to go wherever I'm taken. I'd kinda like to run into my current taget at some point, but if anyone else wants to set up T'char with some wierd twists, feel free... I could use a few job offers . I've kinda got my hands full with Phytho's people at the moment.... I was kinda thinking that i might be able to get in on the Organisation, or play double agent for one of the sides, or something... Basically, i have no loyalties other than to myself, so anything goes so long as plenty of credits are involved

T'char pondered Karn's little speech, turning over its implications in his mind. "i think your idea has a lot of merit, in a wierdly warped kinda way" he said. "It quite nicely deals with the problem of the people at the top of the hierachy abusing their power. But with the considerable communication lags you mentioned wouldn't it be too easy for one of the local 'defensive' forces to turn renegade and start a rebellion from the bottom of the chain?" T'char watched Karn's reaction over the top of his schooner. * * * Somehow Arten managed to find his way to the bar, despite the anachronistic effects making his progress very difficult. He made his way to a vacant table, and settled back to wait for his contact.

Arten had removed his finger from the hyperdrive control as the Revolution locked its tractors onto his ship. His euphoria at completing the job quickly turned to dismay as he realised that he could not escape - to try to enter hyperspace while in the cruiser's tractors would destroy his tiny freighter in an instant. As the Scout headed for the massive navy ship ahead, Arten heded for the cargo compartment to clean up all traces of the compartment's previous cargo.

Arten lowered the cargo ramp, allowing the thugs below to unload the vessel's contents at astonishing speed. Within minutes there was no indication of the hold's previous contents. Two minutes and ten thousand credits later he was heading for orbit again, after spending only six minutes on the planet's surface. That went very well, he thought. If only every run was like that... He aimed for a relatively calm patch of sky, part way between the two opposing fleets and prepared to jump outsystem. OOC - if someone could "apprehend" me, that'd be great...

OOC - I hope that wasn't me Krytos! IC - T'char thoughtfully considered the pilot's proposal. The downside was that he would be likely to get sidetracked once again, but on the other hand there was the chance that he might meet his target while working in the area... "Ok" he said. "Show me these rookies..."

The Epsilon Scout jumped in-system just in time to be met by a turbolaser bolt from the imperial ships in orbit around the planet. The bridge rocked and the controls became a mass of blurred lights as Arten fought to regain control of his damaged ship. Typical, he thought. Trust my luck to exit into the middle of a fully fledged battle. Quickly he pointed the wounded ship toward the planet. With a bit of luck the New Republic ships wouldn't notice him or his cargo with all the other action taking their attention...

I could really use a good drink T'char thought as his piloted his craft to a landing at the city's small spaceport. It's not every day that you single-handedly disable an entire cruiser. He emerged from the hatch and headed for the small bar located just outside the spaceport's support facilities. As he made his way across the tarmac he looked up at the fiery inferno created by the debris of the recent battle hitting the atmosphere. The glare of the metal burning under the intense friction was clearly visible, even in the daylight. As he sat in the bar, T'char began to realise that he hadn't actually gotten around to finding his target, and that he'd been sidetracked by all the other events happening locally. With a determined pull on his ale, he decided to stop being distracted, and to finish the job...

"I must agree with Karn. The main reason for the alliance's later successes is that one pilot - Luke Skywalker - showed the other demoralised pilots that it is possible to not only beat the enemy fighters, but to even destroy the empire's most powerful and feared weapon. It was all a matter of confidence. I look at it this way - no doubt the pilots had all the skills neccessary to win before the destruction of the death star, but without the confidence and self-belief generated by its destruction they were unable to use their skill to its full potential. It's kinda like what Alex " - T'char gestured towards the young captain - " is always saying - THAT is why you fail..." T'char took a long pull on his drink to wash away the effects of his rather lengthy speech.

As he closed in on the nearest sith cruiser, T'char searched NightHawk's memory databanks for an ancient program, one that he hadn't used in far too long. A slimy, reptilian grin spread across his face as the AI located and loaded the program. Everything was going perfectly... "Pilot of NightHawk I, this is the the Scorcher acknowledging your mayday." came the call from the cruiser. "We understand that you have suffered major engine and environmental damage. We have facilities for you and your craft, should you be able to prove that you are not an enemy combatant. Please identify yourself as such." T'char opened a secure comm channel. "This is T'char, pilot of NightHawk I. I am a bounty hunter working on a government sactioned mission in this sector. The bounty number is LKD-014875I, and is for a captain Sol Sebala. I was attempting to land on the planet when i was intercepted by native fighters on approach." "Scorcher copies all, NightHawk I. Permision granted to approach the ship, provided a full system diagnostic is broadcast for our verification." Perfect. T'char was bargaining on this happening - it was a typical for a sith captian to request a full system scan before letting any ship dock with his cruiser. This captain had not let him down. T'char pressed the transmit button, activating the ancient program in the computer's core, sending the bogus diagnostic transmission to the sith cruiser. With luck it would be out of action before they noticed the virus hidden in the broadcast...

T'char watched as the massive capital ships blinked into existence about the battle. Despite his considerable success in defeating the initial wave of fighters, T'char new that Tython and his comrades had no chance if all the sith cruisers began launching flights of fighters. There was only one path of action available - T'char would have to take out at least one of the enemy ships, otherwise the defending forces would be annihilated. With only the vaguest of plans in mind, his accelerated out of orbit toward the opposition cruisers, broadcasting an urgent mayday call.

"I dunno about that - the newer b-wings are quite nimble, and pack a pretty awesome punch for something that looks like a flying crucifixion" smiled T'char. "Really though, most ships will perform pretty well, given the right pilot. Take Tython here, banged up a couple of Preybirds a few weeks back, but at least he took a whole bunch of sith with him. That takes skill, an such an antiquitated fighter..."

"Ah, a corellian craft. Good choice. My ship - NightHawk I - is a modified corellian YV-666 freighter. It really performs very well. There's nothing like good Corellian Enginering." T'char peered into his mug. "There's nothing much like o good Corellian ale either, for that matter. Anyway, im in the bounty hunting business myself. My ...other... jobs do ocasionaly involve work for the alliance, so your little secret's safe with me..." OOC - Yup, i'm still the grumpy trandoshan!

OOC - Thanx guys! IC - "Uh, hi" said T'char, accepting the handshake. "Yeah, i think i remember meeting before, Karn." He gestured to the bar. "Take a seat. What's your poison?" As Karn sat, T'char desperately searched his memory for anything he could remember about the character beside him. OOC - I don't think ive met Karn before, only Rantar... PS - do i know you, krytos? (so many locals getting in on the action, can't keep track of them all...)

Which way to the dark side? Head for Yavin 4, take a hard left and you're there...

I getcha about explaining it as something scientific, but what really gets me is why? I mean, in the original trilogy the force wwas left being portrayed as something mystical, and it all worked really well. So why did George Lucas have to suddenly make it into something scientific for episode I? I reckon he should have been able to leave it as its previous paranormal image without wrecking the plot of the movie...

-- How about the ability to eradicate annoying spam from online forums at will? -- Actually, i was kinda wondering about the whole midi-chlorian thing. In epsiode V, as luke is being trained by yoda, he's raising rocks, and all that using the force. Yoda says something about this being possible since the force is "in everything". Does this mean that the rock contains midi-clorians? I thought only living matter could contain them. And if the rock does contain midi-chlorians, does that a droid could use the force (since that's inanimate as well...)?

OOC - Just an idea i had the other day - a place for everyone's characters to meet, have a drink and a chat with the nearest, soberest sentient creature... Feel free to "come" and "leave" as you please, but try to make it fairly obvious as to whether you are "still there" or have "left". IC - T'char sat at the bar, a pint of corellian ale in hand, listening to the mellow tones of the Jizz-Wailers playing in the corner. The bar was close to empty, the usual after work crowd yet to show up. He sat alone, waiting for someone friendly to have a conversation with.

The roar of launching starfighters awoke T'char from his fitful dozing aboard NightHawk I. Excited and confused voices blared from the comms unit, the transmissions of dozens of rookie pilots filling the airwaves. Within a moment he was his ship's controls, heading her toward the fiery melee. With a bit of luck he'd be able to get a good ringside seat for the spectacle, and hopefully get to see just how good his tutoring had actually been... Tython roared past in his latest preybird fighter, visibly itching to enter the fight. T'char watched as the young pilot spiralled in towards a lone sith ship, easily destroying it with a few well placed shots to its rear. He watched, full of pride, as his protege continued to make mincemeat of the enemy starfighters. In an instant, they were upon him. The angry sith converged upon the lone preybird, guns blazing with vengeance. For a moment Thython was lost amongst the swirling mass of metal. When T'char finally saw him emerge, it was evident he was in pretty bad shape, his shields offline and smoke billowing from his engine. Taking time only to call in a fighter escort, T'char dived in toward the regrouping sith fighters, his discreetly placed quad TurboLaser blazing. The sith quickly gave up any thoughts of completing their revenge, turned tail and fled in light of the suddenly overwhelming forces presented by the recently arrived preybirds. "Now you owe me two favours, kid" he radioed to the crippled preybird.

OOC - name: T'char (pronounced t'car, no surname) occupation: bounty hunter race: Trandoshan Warrior (Outcast for being too nice ) location: Phalax (moon of Mouvia) homeworld: Kashyyyk skills: highly skilled pilot and marksman -- Sorry for not doing this earlier! -- IC - T'char sidled into the gloomy bar, his large yellow eyes scanning the numerous faces seated at the establishment's grimy tables. He spotted a group of Bothans sitting at a corner table. Slowly and purposfully he made his way towards them. "Mind if I take a seat here?", he took a seat before they had a chance to reply. "I'm looking for a pilot, a captain Sol Sebala. Can any of you point me in the right direction?" He placed a credit disk on the table. "I'm willing to reward any help quite generously." "We're not in the habit of spreading no rumours to no foreign strangers", their leader scowled, staring into his mug. Fine, T'char thought and stood up. I'll see if anyone else here is any more forthcoming. *** Half an hour later T'char sat at the bar staring into the dregs of his corellian ale. He had had no success in getting any information from any of the other dozen or so other people he had talked to, the natives' fear of foreigners seemed to be overwhelming. Beside him a young pilot sat broodily sculling large amounts of alcohol. "You're a pilot?" "Yeah. So?" "You know a captian Sol Sebala?" OOC - Gunna be away for a while (till sunday) - feel free to post for me Phytho, until then.

Can't wait for HL2... Does anyone know of any SW mods for HL (original)? I coulda sworn there r some, but i can't find any... PS - Hi Barkoa!

looks like this thread's gone just a little off topic... Anyway, boba fett rocks, coz he's just so classy...

T'char stood at the bridge of NightHawk I, surveying the debris of the recent battle. Amazingly, the antiquated Preybird fighters had not only survived the brief conflict, but had come out better than the sleek, modern sith craft. He gazed at the myriad of pinprick flares as the surviving sith made the jump into hyperspace, running from the carnage. He noticed the curious lack of capital ships. It was very odd for a sith to enter any conflict without the support of some form of heavy firepower... Quikly he dismissed the thought - that was only one of today's many mysteries. The whereabouts of his target - a captain Sol Sebala - was a much more pressing concern. It looked as if it had been a bad idea to trust that slimy Rodian of an informant... Reaching for the main control quadrant of the heavily modified YV-666's helm, he dropped the craft into an approach vector for the planet below. With a bit of luck, someone in the city below should know the where to find his target. As he entered the city, he headed for a place guaranteed to be swarming with perfect lowlife informant types - the pub. OOC - what's OOC stand for? (Out Of Context?)