Log:Free Enterprise Raids the CEO of SFS Private Yacht

Free Enterprise Raids the SFS CEO's private Yacht.

OOC Date: May 31, 2018
Location: Cron Drift
Participants: Ektor, Grishk, Aliraet, Emma Starflare, Free Enterprise

A hyperspace waypoint owned by the Sienar Corporation bridges the gravity wells of the Cron Drift, leading from the Perlemian Trade Route to the Lianna Hyperspace Corridor. A rich prize is expected, which various free and enterprising sorts plan to capture and abscond with.

As the pirate ships emerge from hyperspace, the far distant stars that compose the Back Spiral of the Tion cluster scatter light across one quarter of the void, while on the other side, the asteroids of the vast Cron Drift exert their pull. A thousand kilometers ahead, the beacon marking the end of this lane flashes once per minute. In between the three hunters and the escape point are a quartet of cutting edge TIE/fo fighters, flying in pairs on either side of an elegant Series 3000 luxury yacht whose hull glints with a golden brilliance in the starlight.

Moments after the Free Enterprise vessels arrive, an automated broadcast pings on all comm systems: <<Warning: you are in a restricted area. Civilian traffic is forbidden in this hyperspace lane by authority of Sienar Fleet Systems and its subsidiaries. Power down your engines and prepare for detainment.>>

"Aww, they don't like us here..." Aliraet murmurs, leaning forward as she watches the ships. "Let's go pretend to be friendly." she says, making sure the IFF for their ship is scrambled to a vaguely imperial looking code, before nudging her ship forwards. "Shuttle Sienar 001, this is Sienar Defense Vessel SN-277, we have been routed to the area due to reports of pirates and are here to strengthen your escort to your final location." A bluff might work, right?

Grishk sits in the Ion Turret, the only position he is useful in until things settle down to the landing bay. Before he hits the switch to extend the turret from its postion, he pauses as Aliraet radios, keeping the ion retracted before his aggressive mind jumps the gun. "I didn't think of that" He says with a hiss and a smile.

The two pairs of TIE/fo peel off immediately upon reading an unidentified shuttle and a pair of antiquated fightercraft in system. Yet they don't open fire immediately, and if a ship could look confused, the four shaky TIEs would. <<Um. Negative Sienar 277, you- um.>> Once they've drawn to close range, very belatedly weapon systems power up.

Ektor-Xer is laughing his ass off in the cockpit of the lead Starchaser, as the TIEs dither until fired upon, at which point they visibly panic. Ektor casually flips fire control to concussion missiles and guides the spearhead-shaped fighter into an attack vector, with the second R41 on his wing. On channel, he transmits to the Heartbreaker, << I owe you a drink for that laugh, Heartbreaker. Lookit those morons! HAA.>> He wipes a tear from one eye. <<You think that broadcast ever works, by the way? Like we gonna be, 'Oh, my mistake, yeah? We surrender'?>> His first missile fires with the question, echoed an instant later by the second R41. Ektor-Xer's missile detonates squarely on the solar panel of one TIE, ripping through shields and consuming the Sienar fighter in a fireball, the second Starchaser only damaging its mark. <<Anyway, four system defense TIEs- sorry, make that three- ain't gonna take us long. You got a clear run on the prize, Boss lady; have fun, yeah?>>

<<No, but it's always cute when they get confused and have to check the manual...>> the Heartbreaker radios back, its quadlasers blazing away as the fighters get underway just in time to avoid being speared, Aliraet cursing under her breath as she goes to full speed. <<Nice shot! Hahaha!>> The larger boarding shuttle closes on the luxury yacht, putting on a burst of speed as it starts to overtake it, before Aliraet radio. "Sienar One...unless you want lots of holes in that pretty paint job...you'll cut your engines now...otherwise...*purr* I can't be responsible for your lives.>>

The Heartbreaker's engines drive the shuttle forward behind the screening Starchasers, swiftly out -running the unfolding dogfight and gaining relentlessly on the rich yacht. Her demand gets no response. Though encrypted, the rapid transmissions sent from the gilded mark do betray a satisfying sense of rising panic as the Sentinel-class closes on them.

<<Hey, Heartbreaker.. you got any idea how distracting it is to be chasing TIEs with you purring like that?>> Ektor-Xer 'complains' with a smile audible in his voice. <<They nearly hit me, just now. >> The Starchaser did in fact take a light hit to the shields, but the pair of old fighters have the clear upper hand as the damaged TIE comes apart under cannon fire. Two on two, now.

As the bait is not taken seriously, but having been considered. Grishk squeezes off the trigger to the ion before standing up to rum to the rear of the ship as he grabs his gear and bares his helmet. "Prepare" adding adding as he finishes his weapons belt, and tightening the straps on his cannon. "BOARD US!"

<<Yes.>> Aliraet's husky voice comes back over the radio as the big shuttle tries to match speeds to the other ship, then lowers, trying to lock its docking clamps in place over its dorsal airlock, like a predator leaping on the slightly smaller prey. <<You'll just have to get used to it....shhh, mommy's trying to board a ship now....>>

The Heartbreaker matches speed with the 'Shining Ihala' and latches on with the resounding finality of a secured docking collar. The hatch remains sealed from inside, leaving the pirates with the choice of slicing in or blasting through.

A smile audible in his voice, Ektor-Xer returns to Ali, <<Don't behave. Hey, Grishk, have fun in there, yeah?>>

Aliraet puts the ship on autopilot, sliding out of her chair. "Really need a droid to mind the store...." She whistles at the two Tracker droids in the cargo bay, as the two come pelting up, holding stun rifles. "We're here for the goods, they give them up, they don't die." She reaches into a pocket, pulling out a grenade, then slides halfway into the airlock, positoining it then twirling the timer, before slipping back. "Fire in the hole!"

Grishk finally gets to waste some ammo. The heavily armed and armored lizard jerking the belt fed cannon as it hisses and makes a loud whine as he stands aside the doorway while Aliraet lobs the explosives. "Stun any left alive" He adds to the droid, turning his head as he awaits the blast."

Through the clearing smoke of the blast, the spacefaring scoundrels clamber aboard the luxury yacht. Descending a spiral staircase into the vessel's large central chamber, the open space looks more like an opulent ballroom than a main cargo hold, complete with a shining crystal chandelier. An elaborate family crest has been worked in blue and gold mosaic tiles on the floor, while statuary and moving light paintings adorn the silver walls. Even the doors flaunt wealth: each portal carries a holoprojector to give it the appearance of a window looking out on a lush pastoral world.

If the provided schematics are correct, cargo, engines, and staff quarters are to the aft, while suites, dining room, and cockpit lie to the fore.

Aliraet jumps down, landing with bent knees as she raises, flicking her sword a bit. "Grishk, take Poppet and secure the engine room...Willy and I will take the cockpit...." she says, starting to stride forwards, hr sword at the ready, as one of the trackers peel off to follow her.

Grishk nods, waving a shoulder to poppet. "Send in the Drones" Saying to the droid as he moves forward a few paces. Waiting for the Hunter/Trainers smaller counterparts to move in advance as he moves behind, the cannon swaying in the narrow corridors. "Give up now and I will let you flee!" he roars while thudding down the hall.

The aft corridors are largely empty, the engine room unoccupied. The cargo holds are sealed, but all signal as full. The first target Grishk comes across is hardly imposing: a human- the sort of hired company you might see on a trashy Core plabet- in a ridiculously impractical gown hurrying as fast as mincing steps in high heels allow toward an escape pod, her arms loaded with wads of fancy clothing and a couple glass bottles. The reptiles demand wins a scream. "Already fleeing!"

As Aliraet stalks fore-ward the corridor branches off into suites, and she promptly finds her path blocked: a line of three apparent servants are being used as human shields by a trio of well armed bodyguards. The guard at the center peers at the pirate as the door opens. "What the kriff-"

Aliraet grins lazily as she lets the tip of her humming sword scrape along the deck. "Awww...thats' cute..." she says, reachign into her vest pocket...and emerging again with a cryoban grenade. "Keep the tip!" She squeezes the activated and tosses it straight towards the middle of the group.

"Oh, shi-" the head bodyguard curses as the grenade is spied. Full points for ruthlessness, as he tries to smother the grenade using his human shield, but it's not enough to save him. The lead guard and his shield are locked in ice, while the two remaining guards scramble away toward the ship's master suite, firing hasty shots at the Devaronian, and letting their prior captives flee. One of the intercoms chips, with a male voice complaining in slurred speech, "Nero! Let me out of here this instant! I will take command- and we will- Nero!"

Grishk continues to move through the halls. Sneering as the woman fleeing towards an escape pod makes her escape. He does not interfere, but ensures she ejects before continuing forward towards the next section of the ship. Nodding once again for his hunter trainer, Poppet, to send its drones in slightly ahead. "Stay with me Poppet. Keep your rifle ready." The lizard adds.

Aliraet promptly uses the now frozen pair as cover, as she barks back to Willy. "Take the armed ones, ignore the others!" She grins wolfishly, peeking out for a moment and dodging back as a blaster bolt skims the ice, before charging with a roar, , then dropping as she lets her knees hit the ice deliberately to slide low under the blasts, her sword slashing out at one of the standing bodyguard's legs.

"Thanks, Scaley; you're alright," the fleeing floozy informs Grishk, before very promptly hitting the switch and launching the escape pod. Not paid enough to stick around, thanks. The engine room has not been abandoned; instead Grishk receives the warning of a blaster bolt scorching the bulkhead near his nose as notice that he has a fight in front of him. "Lock down the engines, fast!" one shouts.

Fear is a powerful motivator, and the devilish duelist who chases after a pair of blaster bearing soldiers provides ample motivation. One bodyguard is blasted and stunned by Willy, but the other manages to put a shot on target.

The golden, glittering Series 3000 luxury yacht Shining Ihala has seen better days. With the Heartbreaker docked at speed, its mosaic dance floor vacant, and it's crystal chandelier swaying with the reverberation of straining engines, blaster fire, detonating grenades, and a frantic male voice on the intercom gave replaced music. "Let me out! We will rout the enemy in a glorious charge! Nero? Unlock this door, I ORDER you!"

The long vibroblade slips past the guard as Aliraet's attempt at a slide takes her off course as she slips onto her back with an oof, then mmphs. "And it was such a good slide too." She kicks off, trying to roll forward and drive her sword forward towards one of the still standing bodyguards, kicking off away from the black ice covering part of the floor.

As the ship crew come about, Grishk comes to bear after one decides to fire upon him. The bolt blasting by his head. He lets the cannon roar and it shits out a 5 round blast at the targets

Generally in combat, it tends to require a fair bit of caution and marksmanship to not shoot the friend using a vibroblade in the back by accident. Then again, the grenades have a good enough reason for Emma to have covered the rear and secure the path behind them. Now? The woman in the form- fitting molded armor has her blaster rifle raised as she catches up with a blink at the carnage. She'd almost whistle, but instead she takes aim at the targets engaging Aliraet.

To the aft, the unholy volume of fire loosed from Grishk's cannon more than repay the injury the Trandoshan bore on arrival. One is blasted to pieces, the other is working desperately on a computer terminal when the first bolt hits him. He reaches for the input key to finish the command, but the second blast ends him, task only just incomplete.

To the fore, outside the master suite (curiously sealed by a command pad on the outside), the intercom screams, "My father will have your head, Nero!"

Aliraet slips up to her feet, jerking her humming blade free of the bodyguard she just skewered in a short spray of blood, then flicks the blade to shed the rest of it. "Sorry, I didn't leave any for you..." she apologizes to Emma, grinning. "Mm, but how are yo uat getting doors open?" She gestures grandly to the door and the intercom screaming besides it.

As the whine of his cannon lowers. Grishk finally notices his wound. The blood having escaped him after neutralizing the crew in the engine room. Whether or not they were up to something or not, initially, he didn't care. The Trandoahan roars, " Move to the rest of the deks send your drones. He says as he attempts to find the console for the intercom. "We have you're engines controlled. Surrender or I will eat your arms and sell you to stomp wines in a vinyard."

"I'm sure there is more to be found," Emma comments, stepping over the fallen bodies before making her way to the door. There's a chuckle, but she moves to examine it before she lowers her blaster. How good was she with opening doors? "I suppose there's one way to find out, no?" her accented tones carry her smile. "Let's try asking nicely before popping this one."

Grishk's threat over the comm earns a brief moment of silence, as the inebriated ranting must reorder itself. "Whoever you are, I am willing to accept your surrender, since you CLEARLY have no idea who you are dealing with..." As if the family crest on the dance floor, and filigree of decorative 'S' on every handle hadn't been clue enough. Blithely, as the master suite locks are deactivated one by one at Emma's hands, and the door slides open, a drunken young man in a disheveled militaristic uniform is insisting into a speaker, "You will NEVER breach my security. The inner sanctum is inpreg- unimpreg- it is invincible!" He has yet to notice that the door is open, but a richly dressed woman sitting beside him has, with a look of dawning dread.

Aliraet rests her sword back against her shoulder, as she flips off the vibration for it, sauntering in as her hips sway a bit, her helmet hiding her features painted to resemble a Krayt dragon skull over the black armor. She idly holds up a finger to her lips as her helmet tilts towards the woman as she moves to slip up behind the ranting man..and just belt him across the back of the head iwth the hilt of her sword to try and knock him cold.

Grishk walks out and pats Poppet on the shoulder as they move to exit. "Sweep the rest of the lower levels, I will head up top to check on Ali. Keep me informed of any changes." Adding before stepping off with his cannon wielded. Though he lowers it as he moves forward. If he were heading for the bridge, maybe not disentigrating tartets would be the best.

The woman nods twice to Ali's 'hush' gesture scooting put of her path as the swaggering pirate belts the drunken dandy, just as he was declaring, "I am Viscount Valin Santhe, and my father is- OW!" he yells, the cry of pain covering any sound as the elegantly dressed woman has produced a Czerka 411 and smoothly fired a bolt into Ali's back; the armor takes the worst, but...

It's perhaps suprising that Emma would use stun from her weapon, but it was simply easier than switching her weapon from lethal to non-lethal for the man in charge. One can always kill the stunned later. A trio of blue stunbolts errupt from her weapon, sending the armed arm-candy sprawling but alive.

There's a yell as Aliraet promptly gets shot in the back by the holdout, staggering, but by the time she's spun around Emma's already dealth witht he problem, bursts of stun rings slamming into the woman and toppling her over, before she frowns, hissing a bit, then kicks the weapon away from her, then smirks. "Smart girl." she says, rolling her shoulder a bit as she winces, then looks balefully at the young man. "So..." she says brightly. "I hear you have a rich father." Her sword hums to life as she brings it down, pointing at the downed man. "If you behave, you'll get back to him in mostly one piece.."

Grishk walks in from the lower decks. Looking around from behind is ill fitting, but still effective Ubese helmet. His head looks from side to side at the corpes. "Amazing." Adding as he reaches down and pulls out his Riot Baton, the mechanism spinning with a hard twist of his arm as it ignights and he slams it down onto the privledged patron of the ship. Sending him down to the ground with a heavy thud. "No need to hear from that crap, a little shit in his pants will humble him a bit. " Adding as he moves to grab his collar and drags him a few steps. "Willy, go tie him up in the cargo bay until we get back. Shoot him with the blaster if he wakes up before we return." Looking around. "Lets look for rich stuff and get outta here."

The woman in her evening gown wears one of those Core-ward hairstyles that is so hideous it must be considered fashionable, unlike the plain professionalism of her manner as she shifts swiftly to take aim at Emma, but before she can fire Emma's barrage sends her unconscious body flying into a table, spilling empty bottles and spent credit chips across the floor.

Meanwhile, the Viscount complains, "That REALLY hurt!" clutching at the back of his head. Giving an injured look between the two pirates, he sniffs, "No matter! My fleet of ships will NEVER permit you to abscond with me." Nose upturned in wounded dignity. When Ali approaches and raises the sword, he shrinks back from it, bluster evaporating. "Y-yes, very.. very rich." Then, a reptilian monster walks up with a menacing electric weapon, and with a shriek he collapses into a boneless pile of a twitching mustache and a soiled uniform.

Aliraet chuckles. "Mmm, that was satisfying to watch..." she admits, flipping off her vibrosword and sliding it back into its sheath. "The cockpit's empty, we've got the ship, the cargo, AND a valuable hostage to sell back. A good day's work, I think...or a good day's bad work." She grins a bit.

"Hostages are more pain than cargo," Em comments before she moves over towards the woman who'd done the shooting at their team, kicking the blaster away and then moving to pat the gowned unconcious form with cool detachment. She knew how to hide weapons and lockpicks while wearing an evening gown, if this woman was another high-class merc/bodyguard, she may well be doing the same.