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RULES

General Game Management Rules and Hierarchy:
1. Listen to the Game Master hereafter referred to as the GM and follow his advice, do not complain if the GM does damage to your character or rejects your profile. His word is law and can only be overruled by a majority decision of the moderators.

2. Listen to all moderators and voice all complaints about the GM to them, only they can overrule the GM: Nelowulf, Cale Darksun, Darkened Angel and Elladan Kenet. This axiom also applies to any whom may be promoted to mod-ship during the course of the RP. They have higher authority than you or I in such matter.

3. Guild rules and GAIA TOS must be followed ALWAYS.

Character Types and Their Use:
1. Characters are divided into four separate classes. Player-characters (PCs), Non-player-characters (NPCs), Game-master-player-characters (GMPCs), and Opposing Forces (OPFOR).

2. PCs must conform to following the BIO format when submitted. It is against the rules to puppet a PC unless the two parties have agreed to such an arrangement. If so please keep any PMs in case of a dispute. PCs are cannot be auto-hit, but this isn't to say that the Game Master can't intervene and force damage if PCs have managed to avoid an inordinate number of attacks.

3. NPCs are characters generated by the normal role-playing of Player Characters, they can include the PC's friends, allies, superiors, subordinates, and named extras. They too cannot auto-hit their target, Players who created NPCs should not be inordinately concerned with their safety unless they are required for the Player's plot, in which case it is best if the Game-master is informed of this requirement to avoid their loss. It is normally acceptable for one PC to puppet another character's NPC if the other PC is not present in the encounter.

4. GMPCs are Player Characters controlled by the GM. These are normally characters vital to the entire plot of the RP and act as guides, commanders, opponents, and mentors for player characters. Often times a GM will create GMPCs in positions to allow them to help direct PCs toward the plot outlined by the PC. GMPCs should be obeyed as though they were the Game Master himself, think of them as in-game versions of the game master.

5. OPFOR are the opponents to the players in RP, ranging from TIEs and Pirates, to Admirals and Smugglers. They represent all NPCs with which the character may have hostile dealings. Unlike PCs they can auto-hit players under controlled circumstances. Additionally they are controlled by the Game Master most of the time. All OPFOR posts will be in dark red for clarity and identification.

Combat Rules:
1. Auto-Hits are prohibited. The penalty of conducting an auto-hit is quite simple, you get auto-hit in turn. This is because conducting an auto-hit is the in-game equivalent of becoming target-fixated, by becoming target fixated you are vulnerable to the enemy picking you off.

2. Be willing to take injuries and casualties, but you don't need to die. Personal weapons in star wars are primarily plasma based blasters, which if you think about it have neither mass nor penetrating power. Expect to get burnt but not necessarily get killed. Think how many blaster scorches the 501st troopers in Survivor's Quest had on their armor before they were rendered ineffective, and none of them died. Plus we have a doctor, give him something to do.

3. A further remark based upon 2, if you're in a starfighter or combat starship expect to take some damage, and remember you've got an eject lever in all imperial starfighters so if you bail out we can recover you (most of the time, we could have a scenario where you get captured to setup for a rescue mission or something).

4. A word about combat effectiveness. I simply call this the 98-2 rule. It states that 98% of casualties are inflicted by 2% of combatants, this is a general rule that holds true in almost all situations. As PC characters you're automatically members of that 2% so you may pile up the bodies if you're combat oriented. By the same token, if you're facing a formation of 100 enemies or more expect two or more of them to be significant threats in combat to your person. NOTE: clones are automatically part of the 2% group and are therefore extremely dangerous. If you're facing clone stormtroopers like the 501st or other highly successful units expect to take significant casualties. Additional exceptions include multi-crew-member systems, an unusual psychological effect of crewed systems is that the crew is much more willing to kill than if he's a lone pilot or soldier handed a rifle. This does not mean that a lone pilot freezes in his cockpit and lets you kill him however, it means that a lone pilot will dance and evade to escape your clutches but won't be as willing to pull the trigger if he settles on your tail. Hence the 98-2 rule does not apply to starship combat or most vehicular combat.

Dramatis Personae:

GMPCs aka Game Master Player Characters:
Name: Pala'al'kina
Rank: Brevet Commodore, Captain
Age: 41
Gender: Female
Race: Twi'lek
Assignment: Captain, Imperial Star Destroyer Resolve
Main weapon: Blastech DH-17 Blaster Carbine
Side weapon: Palandrix-manufacture Stun Glove
Short History: One of the few, the very few too manage to slip through imperial academy despite being a woman, and an alien. Her immense skill at tactical and strategic thinking made it extremely difficult for her instructors to fail her.

Perhaps being raised in the male dominated society of Ryloth helped her bear the hostility of her superiors and instructors. She would have graduated in the top of her class at the academy if a 'clerical error' hadn't dropped her grades several places. After graduating she was given a mere ensign's commission and sent to the Imperial Star Destroyer Resolve. She has served aboard the ship for the last twenty years, slowly inching her way up the rungs of command.

Her most recent promotion was a secret and unofficial promotion to the rank of Brevet Commodore, a skip of two ranks from mere captain. It was when this promotion was found out by the Imperial Security Bureau that Rear Admiral Dret Sibel, who had come to rely on the twi'lek woman in field exercises, was removed and arrested by the ISB setting in motion the chain of events that had led to the Imperial Star Destroyer Resolve withdrawing from Imperial service and going rogue.

Description: An olive skinned twi'lek, Captain Pala'al'kina tends to wear heavier clothing than the typical twi'lek woman, including sweaters upon which she has pinned her rank insignia. She seems short and stocky for a twi'lek resulting in a build that seems to be quite average when compared to the human average. Her lekku are completely unadorned. She seems quite relaxed in command, revealing none of the strain she must be under.

Name: Ranlee Vaske
Rank: Brevet Master Sergeant, Sergeant
Age: 32
Gender: Female
Race: Brosin
Assignment: Platoon Sergeant, Zero-G Stormtrooper Platoon
Main weapon: Blastech DLT-20a Blaster Rifle, Blastech E-11 Blaster Rifle
Side weapon: Vibrosword, Vibroblade
Short History: While the troopers that are being funneled to her to retrain into have gained fame as 'Bikini Troopers' Master Sergeant Ranlee Vaske is the mirror image of that idea in both temperament and appearance. Almost always in her armor and lugging round a veritable arsenal as though it were made of plastic the sergeant is as hard and ruggeded as her homeworld. Gruff and hard, she reminds most of the Bikini Troopers of their old drill sergeants from Carida.

A Brosin, she joined the Empire fourteen years earlier. She enjoyed a successful early career, until her homeworld became embroiled in a rebellion of its own when the Empire-backed Corporate Sector Authority began strip mining the world, displacing its people, and enslaving many of its citizens. Fearing that the rebellion which had begun against the CSA would spread to Brosins under imperial arms Ranlee was transferred to the Resolve as a sort of security measure. There she became squad sergeant of the small contingent of alien Spacetroopers aboard.

Ironically enough, it was here that the Brosin found herself turning a blaster at stormtroopers. When the Stormtrooper Corps revolt began she followed the instructions of the Lieutenant in charge of the Assault Shuttle the platoon had been assigned and refused to participate. The Lieutenant, a human named Jan Lasken had been born on Brosin and she found in him she had the only friend she found on the ship.

Then her platoon co ordered him shot and she rebelled. Since then The two of them have been working to assemble a functioning Spacetrooper platoon for the Assault Shuttle and have begun retraining the Bikini Troopers in this new task.

Description: Brosins are among the most human looking near-human species in the galaxy, and Ranlee is one of the most human looking among them. Appearing to be nothing more than a heavily muscled blonde to the untrained eye her internal body structure is stronger than the average human frame and more resistant to dehydration. When inside the Assault Shuttle she's been assigned she often pulls of much of her stormtrooper armor and lounges about in the single piece black smock upon which the plates lie, but outside the shuttle she's all business often times sporting a small arsenal alongside her armor, pauldron, and extra bandoleers of blaster cartridges.

PCs aka Player Characters:
Cale Darksun's BIOs:
Name: Hal Duine
Rank: Chief Petty Officer
Age: 35
Gender: M
Race: Human
Assignment: Head of Engineering
Main weapon: CR-1 Blaster Cannon
Side weapon: DH-17 blaster pistol, Detonite Packs, hydrospanner
Short History: A long time tech junkie, Hal Duine got his start hotrodding swoops on his homeworld of Corellia until one illegal blaster modification got him arrested. Always in need of people to fix their fancy machines, the imperial armed forces pressed him into uniform instead of a jail cell and had Hal go through combat engineering. Despite brutal treatment, bad food, and low pay, Hal still proved more than capable of fixing whatever the imperial navy put in front of him. What kept him off the good ships, however, wasn't a lack of talent but a lack of discipline. Imperial Brass don't like to be told they're wrong, yet despite this Hal continued to tell them the truth instead of made up lies like the other empty headed yes men the Brass surrounded themselves with. When Hal told Grand Moff Tarkin, to his face, that the Death Star needed more than one exhaust port to prevent a catastrophic chain reaction, Hal was kicked off the construction project of a lifetime and onto one of the worst boats in the fleet, the Resolve.

Description: pic
Blond Hair, Hazel Eyes, of medium height. Has a thick old Corellian-esque accent and a rather surly personality.

Darkened Angel's BIOs:
Name: Diana LeClaide
Rank: Lieutenant
Age: 24
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Assignment: Stormtrooper, Platoon Commander
Main weapon: Customized Heavy Repeater
Side weapon: Customized Blaster Pistol
Short History: Diana showed promise when she applied to the Stormtrooper Corps, graduating at the officer level, and receiving a promotion shortly after when she showed she could handle command of a platoon. That promotion landed her in a backwater post aboard the ISD Resolve. Her indoctrination of being fiercely loyal to the Empire during her stormtrooper training suddenly turned into questioning it. It seemed they just quietly sent rejects to such positions. She began to doubt the Empire really cared about its people.

That doubt grew as time went on. The platoon she commanded was mostly women, and very few stormtroopers of outside of it respected her, even though she outranked the vast majority of them, since only a handful were officers, and not all of the officers were above her.

It seemed to turn around however, when everyone seemed to loosen up after settling in. Several of the female stormtroopers, including herself, took part in what they called the Miss Galactic Empire beauty pageant. The ones that took part posed for spectators and judges in bikinis made from stormtrooper armor parts. Everyone had fun, and Diana won the title of Miss Galactic Empire 1 ABY. However, the pageant brought with it a running joke, calling the women " bikinitroopers " as a tease.

Things went to Hell soon after. Diana and her platoon were in agreement about the Empire, as were some others aboard the ship. In fact, it seemed that enough thought the Empire was wrong to start a mutiny. At 1st, she led her platoon along with the other stormtroopers to maintain the security of the ship, but when ordered to shoot everyone that didn't surrender without questioned, that changed everything. She ordered her platoon to fire on the other stormtroopers instead, and it seemed several others had the same idea. A massive firefight within the Resolve soon followed.

After everything was quiet, Diana was shaken. She had seen the truth behind the Empire she swore to protect and turned against it. She personally gunned down several people she would've considered friends, and those under her command followed her lead. After some time to think, she steeled herself, determined to do what she feels is right.

Description: Miss Galactic Empire Standing at about 5'7" with dark brown hair and dark blue eyes, Diana usually wears various light clothing when not in uniform.

Des Voh's BIOs:
Name: Baret Jaxx
Rank: N/A, Detainee aboard the ISD Resolve
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Race: Human (Corellian)
Assignment: Mechanics assistant.
Main weapon: Bryar Pistol (Modified for stronger burst shots)
Side weapon: Vibroknife, ELG-3A blaster pistol, Stun gauntlet.
Short History: Raised on Selonia, when Baret was young he hopped aboard a tramp freighter, working his passage as an indentured hand. A year later though, he skipped ship in the outer rim, also stealing a hefty amount of credits from the captain he was slave to. This bought him his flight license, a ship of his own, and enough to get his name cleared and a first cargo, from there he opened up his freelance import/export business, working throughout the mid and outer rim.

He was happy, he had friends in low places and high, and he had the expanse of space as his backyard and, usually, a full cargo of legal goods or otherwise. Life was good.

That was until he got nabbed by a certain Imperial Task Force. Now, robbed of his ship, personal items, and a little bit of his dignity, he sits, day in and day out in a detention cell aboard an ISD, only ever taken out to do his assigned job.
Ship: YT-2000 light freighter "Grey Crow" Impounded, ISD Hangar
-Dark Grey paintwork
-Integrated R2 Astromech Driod co-pilot
-R2 Astromech Mechanic
-1.0 Hyperdrive

Description: Visual Baret has strawberry blond hair, stands about 5'9 and has one blue eye, and one brown, the later being a cybernetic replacement. Other distinguishing features are burn marks and scars covering most of the left side of his body, with only two scars on his face, across his cheek, these are memoirs of a rather awful explosion.

Name: Kai 'Jubilee' Dubree
Rank:Petty Officer 3rd Class
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Race: Zeltron
Assignment: Ships Bartender
Personal Equipment: Datapad,
Sidearm: DH-17 blaster pistol
Short History: Jubilee, as most come to know him as, is strange and exotic, even as Zeltrons go. Before joining the Empire, he was a professional bartender on Coruscant in his families restaurant. But from his earliest years, Kai had been strangely more effeminate than most young boys, to the point of dressing in female clothing. During his teenage years, he was on a unique form of hormone therapy, which altered his changing body even more, though in slow, subtle ways.

At the age of 19, he inherited his parents restaurant after their sudden death, but due to the dept it had incurred, he decided to sell it instead, seeing it as the only way to ever pay them off.

That left him few choices with what to do, so being a young and influential mind, he swayed to the propaganda and joined the Imperial Navy. He was assigned to an ISD in unique task force out in the rim, later realizing why, and that it was just a spiteful joke. Detailed as the ships bartender.

Although he is male, he was allowed to wear the female uniform and keep his hair long. Due to these and the fact he never speaks about it, he is still taken for a female, and still very few aboard the ship actually know that she is really a he, beyond commanding officers. Though the rumors do indeed float around.

Description: Visual Kai stands about average height with a slim, femininely attractive body and a slight muscle build with rather smooth curves, and very soft, light red skin and usually a blue or violet lipstick. The therapy also left him a pair of genuine, full breasts of modest size. He also has a dashing of freckles over her body. Before when she would be in uniform, it would be a females, though sometimes he was forced to wear a male one.

Now, her wardobe consists of either a loose, black linen knee-length skirt and a tight v-neck light blue sweater, or a tight purple miniskirt and loose black button-up each with the issued knee-high boots from her uniform and her sidearm belt. When on duty she will wear loose-leg black stacks and a yellow tanktop along with the waist apron with her rankings pinned on the shirt and her issued officers cap and sidearm belt. Rarely does he wear male clothing. As for undergarments, maybe you should ask. wink

Theme: Cherry Lips - Garbage

Elladan Kenet's BIOs:
Name: Xander
Rank: Lieutenant Commander; Squadron Leader
Age: 100
Gender: Male
Race: Falleen
Duties: Squadron Leader XG-1 Gunboat Mynock Squadron
Main weapon: DH-17 Blaster Pistol
Side weapon: Vibro Knife
Short History: Xander was born on Falleen, the son of ex-Seperatist supporters. Because of their feelings, Xander disowned his family and their cause, leaving the family's small shipping firm, and deciding to throw his lot in with the Reublic.

The Republic, of course, was none too happy to have a Falleen recruitee, but finding no ill merits to warrant a refusal, allowed the Falleen to train at the Republic Academy. There, Xander proved his mettle as an excellant pilot, and despite prelimary fears, proved as loyal a pilot as the rest.

That changed, with the razing of Falleen.

Xander had slowly risen up the ranks of the Imperial Navy, working as a pilot under various commanders. Loyal to the Navy and his commanders, that came to a screeching halt when the Empire he swore himself to destroyed the city where he grew up, killing his family in the process.

Though they had not seen eye to eye on the matter of allegiance, Xander had loved his family, and was grieved to learn that the Empire torched an entire city. His loyalty was shaken, and it was then that Xander realized he had no loyalty for the Empire; merely the people he served beneath.

Knowing that Xander was a Falleen, and suspecting him to betray the Empire, he was gradually redirected, until he served aboard the Resolve. He has since served there, as the Squadron Leader of it's XG-1 Squadron, Mynock Squadron.
Description: Like all Falleen, Xander stands at a robust 6'2", with a thin, bony frame, and sinewed, powerful muscles. His skin complexion is usually green, though of course he can change it to fit his mood. His hair is approximately shoulderlength.

For clothing, having disregarded his Imperial Pilot uniform, he instead wears his old Republic uniform, modified with his current insignia.

Jaden's BIOs:
Name: Tahnk Duron
Rank: Brevet Flying Officer
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Race: Kel'Dor
Assignment: Pilot Mynock Squadron
Main weapon: DT-57 Heavy Blaster Pistol
Side weapon: Kel Dorian Martial Arts
Description: Slightly taller than the average Kel Dorian, at 1.95 metres tall, Tahnk is an impressive looking individual.
Short History: Tahnk was born and raised on the Kel Dor homeworld of Dorin. Like all other Kel Dor children, he was sent to the Dorin Academy at a young age. Un-notably, he had the exceptionally high reflexes and perceptions of all Kel Dorian adolescents. Early on in his enrollment in the Academy, it was noted by the Deans that he had a rather unusually keen knowledge of spaceflight and the mechanics of small ships. After consulting Tahnk's parents, he was enrolled in an extra-curricular program, in which, he would be instructed in piloting and general spaceflight knowledge. In many simulations, he was found to have impeccable skills behind the yoke of small cargo ship, transports, and even a few low-grade fighters.

Tahnk graduated from the Academy with flying colors, various degrees, and even a low-grade pilots license. After a short vacation with a couple friends from the Academy, Tahnk realized he had no idea what he was going to do with his life. So, knowing his skills as a pilot, decided to join the Imperial Army. So, he went through the Imperial Academy, and did remarkably well, despite all the abuse and harrassment that he received for being a non-human. But in the end it paid off and he was soon after assigned to the Resolve. Currently, he is still awaiting assignment to a vessel and squadron.

Description: Slightly taller than the average Kel Dorian, at 1.95 metres tall, Tahnk is an impressive looking individual. His skin is a dark orange-crimson color and his eyes are cool glassy blackness. He wears the necessary antiox breath mask and matching protective goggles, both a simple shade of black.
Tahnk Duron

K-Blade's BIOs:
Name: Cassandra (Cassy) Harrington
Callsign: Raptor 7
Rank: Pilot Officer
Age: 21
Gender: Female
Race: Zeltron/human
Assignment: TIE/Ln Fighter Pilot, 2nd flight, Raptor Squadron
Main weapon: DL-44
Side weapon: Hand-to-hand
Short History: My father is a Moff, a hard-liner, of where I’d rather not say, but he’s human of course. Set straight from Coruscant when Emperor Palpatine dissolved the Senate. Somewhere along the way, he ‘acquired’ my mother, a Zeltron (go figure). I’m the second born, my older brother, my beloved older brother that father took under his wing. Teaching my brother what it means to be a man of ‘power’, (whatever that means). I on the other hand was shipped off to the academy, as a token of his ‘fealty’ to the Empire.

“What greater sacrifice could a parent make to show ones loyalty to the Empire.” Those were his last words to me on the day I left. My mother? Well, she never spoke up to my father for some reason. (Doubt I’ll ever know why) gave me a kiss on my cheek and told me that she loved me and that someday she would see me again, that was five years ago. The only good thing that my father ever did for me was to give me his last name, it got me into pilots school and I became a fighter pilot, but just barley and not because of my test scores because I was at the top of my class. I think it had more to do with my being a female in a males military, and now that I think about it more that’s probably the reason that I wound up stationed aboard this circus of an ISD.
Description:

Nelowulf's BIOs:
Name: Davro Bel
Rank: Commander
Age: 36
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Assignment: Primary Healthcare Provider. Aka, Doctor
Main weapon: Cynicism
Side weapon: Drugs
Short History: Born on Tyferra, Davro Bel was one of the many people who grew up around bacta. Not to be confused with the Bel Family that owns one of the largest corporations known to all the galaxy on the Bacta market, Davro was unconcerned with the production, so much as the application. At the age of 15, he was shipped off to a Carosi XII prep school, and later graduated salutatorian of the year, although this has been a bit of a debate, having lost to a native instead over political issues. It was said that he even managed to come up with a few procedures only his professors could understand. The Carosites were avid dissidents of the imperial regime, and a soon-to-be imperialite seemed all the more problematic.

In spite of all these details, Davro enlisted into the Imperial navy, unconcerned about actual political ambitions, instead more keen on keeping people safe. It was due to this apathetic support of the empire that had him regulated over to the Resolve, a notorious ship that held aliens and women in vast quantities compared to it's bretheren ships. While many imperial doctors would have seen this as a downgrade, rarely considering it any more than a place to cure STDs and the occasional bruise, Davro considered it a blessing he was going to wind up treating more than human males all day long. During his tenure aboard the resolve, he has also managed to secure several more qualifications, such as osteopathy, neurology, and dermatology along with an honorary degree in general surgery due to the constant attempts to kill the crew off from his old academy, who with the rising events of the war, have changed their views about the doctor in question.

Description:Facial

Stands about 5'4" tall, relatively short, but surprizingly strong due to his profession. He is normally dressed in a white uniform, red striping indicating rank, and when on the job, an overjacket is worn. He commonly wears a small headband with a built in wire that leads to a RFX/K Medisensor. He rarely needs to access it's info, but the quick diagnosis is helpful. Also, he wears a belt often, containing several hyponeedles, a field cauterizer, a vibroscalpel, a MDS-50 med scanner, and a few sets of Antishock, Antisceptin-D, dermaseal, an emergency dose of conergin, and Tranqarest.

Theme: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WLaY2VcIEqo

Rodyn's Character BIOs:
Name: Harper Endoran
Rank: Petty Officer Second Class (E-5)
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Assignment: Supply Officer/Makeshift Trooper
Main weapon: E-11 Blaster Rifle
Side weapon: SE-14r
Short History:Harper Endoran was born and raised on Corulag to a middle-class couple. He was an only child, and ascended through his life like any other. His father was a veteran of the Clone Wars, stationed on a desert world as a medic. Harper joined the military because of this, as well as an opportunity to get money for a higher education, a way to get out of his parents' house, and something that would look good on his future applications. As for the Empire itself, he was pretty indifferent. A government is a government to him, and same with its military. So he joined up. However, after embarassing the Executive Officer of the Victory-Class Star Destroyer he was stationed he, Harper was quickly transferred to the ISD Resolve.

Unfortunate for him, however, approximately a month later the revolt onboard the ship began. It was something he couldn't explain, but he suddenly developed a feeling of rebellion. It rushed through his veins like adrenaline. He withdrew the pistol holstered in his belt and shot a Stormtrooper square in the helmet right before the white-armored trooper killed a Mirialan supply officer that he got to know. From then-on Harper decided to stick with the Resolve in its revolution against the Empire, knowing that he can't safely return home, and feeling that what he's doing is the right thing to do.

Description: Light-skinned; brown hair, military cut; hazel eyes; Imperial insignia on uniform redecorated with a red X; tired gaze; 6'2"

Starships as Characters:
Name: Imperial Star Destroyer Resolve
Rank: Not Applicable
Age: 20
Gender: Female
Race: Kuat Drive Yards Imperial Star Destroyer, initial production model
Assignment: Not Applicable
Main weapon: 6 Dual Heavy Turbolaser Turrets, 2 Dual Heavy Ion Turrets, 6 Capital Ship Proton Torpedo Tubes, 3 Triple Turbolaser Turrets
Side weapon: 60 Dual Taim & Bak XX-9 Heavy Turbolasers, 60 Borstel NK-7 Ion Cannons, 10 Phylon Q7 Tractor Beam Projectors
Compliment: 48 TIE/Ln Starfigthers, 12 TIE/sa Bombers, 12 TIE/sr Scouts, 8 Lambda-class Shuttles, 15 Delta-class stormtrooper transports, 5 XG-1 Assault Gunboats, 2 Skipray Blastboats, 1 Gamma-class Assault Shuttle, 12 Sentinel-class Landing Craft, Tugs, Heavy Lifters, Combat Utility Vehicles, Theta-class AT-AT Barges, 20 AT-AT walkers, 30 AT-ST walkers, 1 Prefabricated Garrison Base, and a number of confiscated vessels in deep storage.
Short History: Born just after the clone wars at one of the hundreds of Kuat Drive Yards dry-dock devoted to Imperator-class production, the Resolve was much like thousands of other Star Destroyers built in those early years. Assigned to a sector group in the outer rim the ship quickly gained a reputation among her crew as both a hard knock assignment and a tough boat.

Assigned crews that were rejections of the Imperial High Command the boat proved to be one that continually survived assignments designed specifically to cause her destruction and the removal of the pesky aliens that called her home. Despite regulations to the contrary a green, white, and black banner was painted on her command tower, declaring "So be it Resolved" in aurabesh script.

Additional individual marks of accomplishment were approved by Rear Admiral Dret Sibel after the ship fell under his command, including kill rings on gun mounts and a kill display added to the battle banner. These changes made the crew much more attached to the ship and the Admiral, and would help sow the seeds for the crew's decision to take the ship and turn rogue when the Admiral was arrested.

She is an old ship, and this means that it takes a dedicated and skilled engineering staff to keep her running in ideal form, and a brilliant one to keep her running in top form. These challenges will become all the more difficult once the ship went rogue. Complicating matters, she lacks a shield upgrade and the standard modification removing the proton torpedo launchers in favor of a set of heavy quad laser cannons.

Description: A Star Destroyer painted primarily in star destroyer white. There is evidence of personal touches like kill rings on gun barrels and the battle banner but little else out of the ordinary.


OPFOR or Opposing Forces:
Name: Lorth Matare
Rank: Admiral
Age: 49
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Assignment:Commander, Sector Group 742; Captain, Titan-class Star Cruiser Sinmara
Main weapon: Blastech DH-17 Blaster Carbine
Side weapon: Vibroknife
Short History: One of the most promising Admirals in the imperial fleet, Lorth Matare is now facing a career cut short by the sudden revolt of one of his groups star destroyers. Enraged and embarrassed by the mutiny of the crew against imperial authority he sorties his entire sector group and has sent them in pursuit of the Resolve.

He leads the action from his command ship, the Titan-class Star Cruiser Sinmara. So far he has had trouble getting more than a tiny fraction of his fleet's strength in position to oppose the Resolve in its race for freedom.

Description: The image of an Imperial Admiral, Lorth has a light complexion and brown hair just beginning to grey at its roots. He wears the standard Imperial Uniform of command staff with an embellishment of gold lace along the shoulder bars and folds of the fabric.

Name: Vultara
Rank: Captain
Age: 41
Gender: Male
Race: Saurian (Trandoshan Subspecies)
Assignment: Leader of the Vultara Pirate gang; Captain, Victory II-class Star Destroyer Valhalla
Main weapon: Blaster Cannon
Side weapon: Vibrosword
Short History: Rumors of a band of pirates operating in the vicinity of the Ghost Nebula are quite true. The band, known as a the Vultara Pirate gang is among the best equipped in the galaxy and one of the few outside of Hutt Space to own and operate Star Destroyer class ships.

Vultara is the captain of the Valhalla a Victory II-class Star Destroyer which he stole from an Imperial scrap yard in the sector. The vessel is crewed primarily by a team of droids which he has salvaged from the wreckage of a Clone Wars space battle which he had been the lone surviving organic participant. He has augmented the droids with a large crew of organics, many fellow trandoshans and near trandoshans as well as weequay, rodian, and other species. He has reportedly used a number of his prizes for hauling loot too and from his hidden base which is often times completely vacated when he's on patrol.

In the sector he has become quite well known for his use of Vulture droids in boarding operations.

Description: As a saurian Vultara shares a number of physical traits with trandoshans, and is considered to be of venerable age for his species. He often wears captured garb from the ship's that he raids and has been known to sport imperial dress uniforms on occasion, he even owns a cor-sec dress uniform that he is quite proud of and often wears into battle. No one is sure how he got it.

Chapter 1: Sixteen Minutes

Few people truly appreciate just how empty space is, how many trillions of cubic kilometers of nothing that lies between stars in a galaxy, but it was this emptiness that lay as the ship's best defense as it dropped out of hyperspace.

The Imperial-I class Star Destroyer Resolve fell out of hyperspace with a thunderclap of pseudomotion. Following milliseconds behind it a pair of Corellian Corvettes dropped out on either side, their hulls blockier than the standard model of their class, and their weaponry significantly less than standard, down to a mere two turbolaser turrets. Following a second later, the Carrack-class Star Frigate Mantell Delight dropped out and moved to form up below the Imperial-I, its sensors pinging in all directions.

Aboard the bridge of the Resolve, Captain Pala'al'kina walked along the crew pit toward the forward viewports. "Report."

"Hyperspace jump complete, all stations reporting ready." The Internal Communications Officer looked up, "Engineering Reports that the Hyperdrive is suffering from overheating. We'll be unable to jump again until it cools down. Apparently there was some damage to one of the intercoolers during the fighting."

Suddenly the Holocomm Communications officer spun to the olive skinned twi'lek, "Captain we're picking up a Holocomm transmission."

"Source?" Captain Pala asked as she turned and headed back to the communications alcove.

"Ma'am, the source is somewhere within the ship. We're not the receiver, we're the sender. I'm reconfiguring the sensors to triangulate the transmission point... It's gone sir, didn't last more than five seconds."

Captain Pala frowned, "All stations go to battle alert. All starfighter squadrons are to go to prep for launch, same with the Assault Shuttle."

The Fighter Control Officer nodded, "All Starfighters prepare for launch, Assault Shuttle Bludgeon prepare for launch."

"Sir I've got the casualty estimate, those stormtroopers cut a swaft through the crew." The Internal Communications Officer pulled a datapad from the console and handed it to the Twi'lek.

Pala read it and felt tears desperately fighting to escape her eyes. "33,793 dead, 6,529 wounded, 6,378 at stations. Damn."

"All stations report crew shortages, we've prioritized critical and combat systems, but even then unless we can get some more people off the wounded list to work the stations we'll be barely battle ready." The Internal Communications Officer said.

"Inform the Doctor that I want as many of his patients capable of doing their duty back on their stations as possible. He's got more than enough to take care of with the critically injured."

The Tector-class Star Destroyer Scutarii slid through space, escorted by six CR90m Corellian Corvettes and an Escort Carrier. On its bridge Commodore Julian Vash read through the orders. "Damn that Twi'lek b***h. The whole damn Sector Group has been dispatched after her. Is she mad?"

The Communications Officer in the back of the bridge suddenly spoke up. "Captain, incoming transmission from command. The Resolve has been located. As the closest combat unit to the enemy we are to lead the battle to destroy the rogue task force."

"Helm set a course to those coordinates they sent us." The Commodore glanced down to the helm. "What'll be our ETA?"

"Fourteen minutes sir."

* * *

It had been two minutes since the transmission and Pala paced the command deck nervously. As the Fighter Control Officer called in Mynock Squadron's readiness.

"Launch Mynock Squadron. They're Hyperspace capable so if we can jump so can they. Also, all units are to reset IFF, have Mynock's IFF switched to Mynock from the imperial designated IFF code, Rho. Inform all other starfighters to switch IFF from imperial standard to their squadron name and number."

* * *

Ranlee Vaske ran across the deck helping the crew clear the flight deck of the wreckage of the revolt. There were bodies everywhere: stomtroopers, crewmen, pilots, mechanics. She'd taken off the stormtrooper helmet and removed the comm set from the helmet and wore it instead as an impromptu means of informing them of her gender and loyalty to the ship.

So far she hadn't been shot, but the crew was understandably twitchy and she made sure her rifle was set to stun, she didn't want to add to the casualty list in her own defense. Her comm crackled as she carried another blackened stormtrooper onto a stretcher which the crew were rushing away. The dead would have to be dumped out into space along with the garbage. There wouldn't be time for a proper burial.

"Ranlee its Jan, we're on standbye alert. Could you round up those femtroopers and get them aboard."

"I'm on it Lieutenant. Just keep the engines warm."

The bodies kept piling up. Minute by minute, the deck had grown from a couple medbays to a full med deck, as the wounded began to come up the lifts to dump into the main room. Bunks and decks were becomeing littered with the stable but critical, as patients on the beds were slowly finding their pulse stickers changing from red to yellow or removed. Just as fast as they got shuffled in, they were shuffled out, by gurney, nurse, or by hoverplatform, debating on where they were bound to end up. Those on the dollys were shuffled back to the cargo bays, to be stripped down and tossed overboard, keepign what gear could be salvaged.

Those that left with yellow would find themselves moving into the antiseptic fields, to have fractures replaced back into the muscle and skin and splinted, before recieving cocktails of Bonemer and Nyex, or when that ran out, Perigen. If the nurse was late, even the Symoxin was used, ignoring the narcotic whiplash, and those were to be sent off and permanently removed from duty for a week. Burns were coated with bacta gel and synthplast, before beign wrapped up and slapped green.

The soldiers with green stickers had six hours to recooperate, before moving back to the workplace, after the recovery room filled up the number was halved. Shuffled out, the troopers felt a tiny p***k in the arm to juice them up with Comaren, and booted off deck.

Davro was in the antiseptic field of the prime medbay, working all seven tables at once, a small basin of Enzobleach and water placed out to keep himself semisterilized between patients. Two tables would be removing patients, two setting up and scanning, one in restocking it's materials, and the other two with specific people. Vibroscalpel flew across flesh, splitting it open as tongs ripped out fleshy pieces of shrapnell, and gluestated back together. Trauma of blood was everywhere, the smell had an hour to fill the corridoor and make its way across decks.

"Doctor!" a nurse shouted, "We're losing this one!" 20 cubic centimeters of Codrazine found its way into the major left aorta of the upper quadricep, as the short brunette stared at his nurse for half a second, a scowl for not taking care of it sooner. Turning back around, a stream of blood flew up, as he nicked a minor artery. A short swear left his mouth, as he popped a hydration tablet for himself, and resumed working, the sweat poring. His white smock had become stained red, yellow, purple, brown, and little was left for him to notice. The visor had been spattered numerous times, as he put pressure on the wound.

"You there, glue this wound. keep pressure and knock down to level 4 yellow," he snarled, as another one came in, blunt trama to the face, severe hemorraging to the internal organs. A small marker drew across the entire face. "Cut there. I'll be back."

"But that's his face sir," another stated.

"Cut him or lose him, his head is going into meningital septicemia. I don't have time to explain." He turned around to grab another hand, glaring at the nurse. "We're trying to save these people, not kill them. Now go find me a bottle of kolto, his one's allergic to bacta."

"Doctor!" a med officer called from the front of teh room.

"Busy!" Davro reported.

"Orders from the captain," the uniformed officer stated.

Davro swore yet again. "What's that testosterone-laced twi'leck want now? She knows better, and you there, restock this station. I need more Codrazine, and i need it yesterday."

"She is not testosterone laced, she's..."

Davro spun around. “Stop bugging us. I find your particular brand of psychobablry about as useful and about as effective as fairy dust.”

"She wants as many of her soldiers capable of doing their duty back on their stations as possible, focus on the critical." The officer stated.

Davro glared at a pair of MTs as he slapped a red x pulse sticker on the body they were carrying in. "The hyperbarics are full, I've seen more gauze today than in the last 4 months when i did a supply check, there's enough here to clean to keep a janitor busy for a week, and you come to report me basic triage i learned in med school. That was one potent combination of verbal diarrhea and stunned silence. Now get out, and tell the captian to worry about the ship, and not waste my time listening to messages that tell me what i'm already doing."

Harper and a few other NCOs and enlisted were busy cleaning up the remnants of the skirmish that had wreaked havoc on the supply bay. The last of the ammo cartridges that both Imperial loyalists and Resolve rebels fought over was stored, still leaving boots and other clothing that was once stored scattered in random areas of the large room.

There weren't many of them left, Harper being one of the higher-ranking suppliers still standing. And that's saying something. He sighed heavily as he stuffed a few jumpsuits into a storage bin and shut it. "I'm suddenly having second thoughts," he said out loud. "But it could just be my paranoia."

"It's good to be paranoid, especially in the situation we're in," Petty Officer Third Class Solisae Van said as she put boots in a footlocker. Harper would have thought it was meant to be light-hearted, but the serious look on her face showed no humor.

"Good thing I have plenty of it," he responded dryly.

Diana, followed by a pair of subordinate troopers, was marching down the halls of the Resolve, her heavy repeater holstered on her back as she looked over a datapad. A handful of her platoon remained in their armory, repairing damaged equipment, while the rest were on patrol, brining any stormtrooper equipment back to them.

Diana was lucky. While she lost some of her platoon, only a few of the survivors suffered any major wounds, the rest had bruises and minor injuries that required little medical attention. She herself was unscathed. Her armor was shielded and better protected than what enlisted stormtroopers had. Unfortunately, it was damaged beyond use in the attack until repaired, much like the armors of most of the others.

" Ma'am. " one of the troopers started. " What is it? " Diana asked, not looking away from the datapad. " We're needed in the hangar. They want us to prepare for an assault. " " Stopping, Diana continued to look over the information on her datapad for a few seconds before putting it away. " Amazons, we got a job to do. Everyone report the hangar, and bring any usable gear that's been recovered so far. Looks like they need us preparing for a possible attack. " she said into her comm.

" Move out. " she said to her following subordinates, before starting on a slight running pace, the others keeping up with her. After making several turns through the various halls, they made their way to the hangar, a few others having arrived already, with the rest still on their way.

" Lieutenant LeClaide reporting as ordered. The rest of the platoon should be here in moments. What's the situation here, Sergeant? " she said as she approached Ranlee.