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Rebel Uprisings
The Crew
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A cloak of darkness is enshrouding the galaxy. Once Chancellor, now Emperor Palpatine is quickly closing his grip on the Old Republic. Never again will the universe be the same. Several senators tried to block Palpatine's rise to power. Those signing the petition of the Delegation of 2,000 were essentially signing their own death warrants and those of the systems they represented. Kashyyyk, Goroth, and others, all enslaved by the Imperial machine.

Still, there are some that have feigned compliance to 'His Majesty's' will, but secretly support small bands of resistance fighters who oppose the Emperor's might. One such band we find barreling through space, running for their lives from an Imperial ambush.

It was supposed to be a simple mission. Go to the Kolanis system, maneuver to the specified coordinates, and off-load the containers of tibanna gas. Simple. The crew could have gotten back to base and well into a stimulating game of sabacc within six hours, seven tops.
Then, everything came unglued. Two Victory class star destroyers dropped out of hyperspace and effectively closed off our heroes' best escape vector. Then they dropped wave after wave of the Empire's new TIE fighters. Fast and agile little ships, easy to destroy, but hard to hit. The Ghtroc 720 pitches and rolls as another flight of TIEs rakes at her shields. They complete their run and clear the path for the next wave.

Toba flicks on the ship's internal comm channel from the system's bay, and speaks out in an irritatingly matter-of-fact tone, "I understand we are all having a specially bad day, captain, but if you take a moment to notice the pretty red blinking light to your left, you'll see that our shields won't hold the next wave of attack. Evaporating into a cloud of ionized carbon particles is not sounding like a bad idea right now, but if YOU would like to avoid this fate, now is the time for one of those clever ideas."

From the co-pilots seat Cyn exhales the smoke from his tabac stick and looks over to the pilot's seat. In a very arrogant tone he states. "Well, what's your call... Captain"

Looking out at the TIEs and occasionally squeezing the trigger for the turbo laser, Qassar contemplates his next move, "Toba, I need you to keep those shields up! I'm going to try and punch us out of here. Cyn, make yourself useful. Either get in the turret, or find us a decent hyperspace route." With that Qassar pushes the Dream hard, attempting his best to avoid the TIEs as well as shooting them down.

"I'm ready" Org Tanal checks in from the gun well as he straps in. Org has a sneer on his face, he is ready to kill. Releasing the controls of the turret to Org, Qassar switches over to the Ion cannon while Cyn maneuvers himself in front of the navi-computer and starts to look for a possible vector out of here. .

Moving to his pilots chair, Qassar yells, "Nice of you to join us Org. Now blast some of those TIEs so I can get us out of here!"

"Oh, the entire team working together to preserve our meaningless lives... isn't it ghastly.," Toba continues to work on the shield's motivators, trying to keep the power from surging, "On the whole life-preserving issue, I think it's relevant to remind my fellow tin-can travelers that our current cargo is HIGHLY explosive!"

"You just keep this tin can together." Org yells as he continues blasting at the TIEs.

Cyn looks over to Qassar "We might be able to use that to our advantage. If we release the cargo in front of a flight of TIEs it might be enough to take out a few of those rust buckets." He thinks to himself, "Hmm... this Toba might be useful after all."

"That's why I want the shields to stay UP!" Qassar yells.

The Dream jinks and rolls deftly at Qassar's command. He tracks a TIE and lets loose with the cannon, the little ship bobs and seems to magically disappear from his scope as it avoids his blast.

Org cycles quickly through the quad's initiation sequence. The targeting computer comes alive with the glow of numerous bogeys. He jams the rotation control hard to port as he tracks his first bird. The quad belches energy and finds empty space as the swift TIE rolls away from the blast.

Cyn stares into the viewscreen on the nav computer. The destroyers don't create too much of a shadow, but almost enough to keep them from jumping anytime soon. He chews on the tabac stick as he punches in several projections, then bares his fangs in a grin that would send chills through the bravest of troopers if they could see him now. It's a long shot, but if Qassar can make it past the destroyer farthest from the systems only planetoid, he thinks they could just punch to hyper and get back in time for supper!

Toba grimaces at the shield generator. He'd just serviced the dang thing before they left the base! Now they go and blow a capacitor! He sighs then grabs his tool kit and sets to work.

Cyn turns and says to Qassar, "If you are skilled enough, I have an exit vector. Come about to 35 mark 7 and make your way past the Star Destroyer, I have the coordinates set."

"Man those things are fast," Org thinks. He carefully targets his next prey and fires.

Toba mutters, "Ok Cyn, I'll bite. When you say 'if we release the cargo', you really mean 'if that dirty imitation jawa at the back releases the cargo', don'tcha?! Cause somehow I can't see you getting your pampered paws all dirty by coming into the main cargo hold and releasing the damned thing....." He then rolls his eyes and says to the rest of the crew, “And if anyone cares, the shields are really making an heroic effort to blow up in my face, but they're failing miserably, so just keep those potshots coming..."

Org lines up the next incoming fighter, this time he calms himself. The image on the scope goes green and he squeezes the firing stud. A collector panel shatters under the blast and the little pod goes tumbling off into oblivion.

"Past the Star Destroyer? Sure, why not." Qassar tries to throw the Dream into a Bootleg turn to bring the ship angled at the right coordinates.

"Take that, nerfherder!" Org fires again.

Cyn quickly says through the comms, "I was not aware imitation Jawa's were able to read thoughts, I must make a note of this when we have a moment. But even more importantly we need to have the shields restored so I can vector them to the rear arc. Make yourself useful and get them back on as quickly as possible, then we can worry about who will dump the cargo," After a short pause, Cyn says, "My apologies young Utai, I was out of line with my previous statement"

Org rolls his eyes sarcastically, "Sympathy, sheesh...."

Qassar turns around slightly, "I don't dump cargo, Cyn. Besides I think this rebellion may need it." After a quick look out the viewport he orders over the comms, "Hold onto something guys. And not all to the rear. I'm going to get so close to that Star Destroyer, that we'll be leaving scorch marks."

Org raises his eyebrow in confusion, "And why are we heading straight for a Star Destroyer?"

".... I hate scorch marks..." Toba mutters discontentedly, "It seems our captain has just come to his senses and decided to end our miserable existences, what else?"

Ignoring Toba's muttering, Cyn replies, "Yes we are, and the reason is to put something big between us and the fighters"

The TIEs become thicker than a Hutt's chins as they swarm angrily and fire almost continually. Org tracks another fighter and begins to fire only to be distracted by another pair that pepper the hull outside his gunwell viewport. The Dream rocks violently at the blasts, but she holds together admirably.

Toba reroutes a few power couplings and tweaks a resonance modulator and the system hums. Sounds like mothers lullaby!

Qassar pulls hard on the controls and just avoids a head on collision. He spots the destroyer on long range sensors and torques the Dream towards it, "Cyn thinks it's a good idea and I agree. Just keep those TIEs off us! And trust me."

Org continues firing, "As long as we survive and I get paid."

"Shields restored to maximum output, cap. Now blow it up again so I have something to do back here...." Toba reports.

"Hey what's life with out a little excitement? Hey Toba? How about a little more power for the sublights?" Qassar grins to himself and turns to Cyn, "That should keep him happy.”

Cyn desperately tries to raise the shields in both the front and rear arcs to protect the Dream form the threat of turbolaser fire from the Star Destroyer and threat of laser fire from the rear. He chuckles softly, "I do not believe his facial muscles are able to be manipulated into forming a smile"

Toba mutter to himself some more, "A little more power for the sublights? A little more power for the sublights?! Sure, I'll just draw it away from the shields that protect us from a quick and horrible death then!"

Qassar orders, "Run Life-support off minimum power, we don't need lighting. Anything non-essential!"

"Now you're talking!" Toba grins.

The Dream churns and bobbles, the TIEs do their best to hamper her, but Qassar keeps her steady. The triangular form of the destroyer grows steadily in the viewport.

Another TIE presents itself in Org's sights. He tracks it and fires, the shot penetrates the glasteel viewport of the little pod and the ship evaporates. Its two companions spray cannon fire down on the Dream. The shields do their job very well. As they pass across the front of the ship, Qassar pumps a blast of ions at the lead ship. Blue lightning bolts race across every surface of the little fighter. It jinks to the right, right into the path of its wing mate. The collision is almost blinding.

Cyn ponders for a moment, "Toba, do you have any magnetic boots?"

Lost in the heat of battle, Qassar yells, "Taste Ion!" As Cyn's words register he shouts even louder, "WHAT!?! I want to bring the ship in so close to the Destroyer that the gunners could see us waving at them, if we had interior lights on."

Toba thinks back, "I think I saw a couple in the closet next to the escape pod. Why? I warn you that the color match of those boots with my coverall would melt the sensory organs of some species."

"If Toba has magnetic boots, then we can turn off the grav plating to divert additional power to the sublights. everyone else should be buckled in." Cyn pauses and asks, "Right?"

Quassar buckles himself in, "Right"

"Right.... right...." Toba goes off to the closet were he believes he once saw a pair of magnetic boots.

The Dream gains extra power to the shields and engines as she goes dark and weightless. Qassar veers the ship towards the destroyer and weaves in and out of multiple turbolaser blasts. Cyn laughs as he almost sees him yawn.

The TIE pilots obviously think this captain is insane as he charges headlong at the destroyer. They break away, but a couple of them simply can't avoid the stray blasts coming from the large ship. They erupt in a display of fireworks like none of the crew has seen in a long time. The Dream breaks past the star destroyer and clears its shadow. Qassar reaches the coordinates supplied by Cyn and punches the hyperdrive control. Stars turn to lines, and lines to mottled cloudiness as she disappears from realspace.

Wiping his brow in relief, Qassar says, "Where are we headed Cyn? Toba? Can you bring the ship back to normal conditions, please?"

Toba mutters, "Oh sithspit! Now that I finally have this ship all nice and dark and am wearing my oh so fashionable and comfortable mag-boots, you want to spoil my up-to-now-perfect day?"

Qassar rolls his eyes towards Toba, "Sorry to ruin your fun. You can leave the lights on a lower setting, but they have to be comfortable for everyone."

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