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Outer Heaven


Nikolai Kolchak
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Outer Heaven

 

Astrographical Information

Stationary or Mobile: Mobile

Current Location: Core Worlds region

Grid Coordinates: M-10

 

Physical Information

Class: Space station

Atmosphere: Type 1 Breathable

Primary Terrain: Run-down cityscape

Points of Interest: The Respite (cantina)

 

Societal Information

Indigenous Species: n/a

Immigrated Species: various

Primary Language(s): Galactic Basic, Huttese

Faction Affiliation: neutral

 

Defense Rating: 3 

 

JediRP Canon History: Outer Heaven is a space station. Formerly a haven for bounty hunters, smugglers, and low-lifes; it was once the main headquarters of the Outer Heaven Bounty Hunters Guild (and was extremely well-defended), until the Imperials took an interest in the system. Since those days, it became a simple a stopping point or hiding place for the criminals and low-lifes of the galaxy. That is, until late in the Galactic Civil War, when it was targeted for liberation by Imperial Remnant Naval and Intelligence forces. Now it has transformed from a den of iniquity into a defensive base of operations for the Imperial Navy, a home for refugees displaced by the war, and a place the restocking and retrofitting of Imperial fleet assets. 

 

((Summary compiled by Amidala Skywalker*. Thank you!

*edited by Nikolai Kolchak following the liberation of Outer Heaven by Imperial Remnant forces))

Edited by Nikolai Kolchak

kol2.png.1d12933059e161bb1d4824942dd151d8.png

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*Shuttles begin to land transporting materials to begin construction while temporary buildings are put up to house workers and early arrivals. Construction of Outer Heaven had begun.*

 

OOC(( This is the new NFU/Bounty Hunter guild "led" by Brell. Membership requires that your character be an active combatant and that you tithe a percentage of bounties to Outer Heaven. In exchange, members will receive full use of all facilities. Members will never be required to attack targets selected by Outer Heaven's command or commit to objectives in Outer Heaven's interest, in essence they remain freelance. Hunters may now begin to post arrival and registration.))

I don't hate you, my employer does.

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The wedge-shaped Ion Raptor blasts out of hyperspace. Rane Scando sits in the cramped cockpit, hands racing across the controls. Two beacons, specially designed probes that alert the Raptor of any incoming vessels, are released from the belly of the pursuit craft as it dips into the planet's atmosphere.

 

The Ion Raptor soars past temporary buildings and construction droids; Rane watches from the cockpit as several small droids begin to unload machinery from a shuttle. He pilots the Raptor around the mess of construction, and lands in a clearing. Adjusting his armor, and positioning his weapons so they are easily accessible, Rane departs from his ship.

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OOC: sorry about the double post, but it's been a day and It would look kinda silly If I just edited my other post.

 

*The Kami touches down on the now almost-completed Outer Heaven, followed closely by the Bhelliom, which lands nearby. A ramp extends from the Kami and Jidai Geki walks down it, accompanied by Vladimir Faust, who is in binders and covered by Geki's blaster. Geki sees Rane.*

How you doing, Rane? Meet the latest addition, Vladimir Faust. He'll be joining us just as soon as he pays his bounty.

Geki1.jpg

http://www.themire.co.uk-- being a veracious and lurid account of the goings-on in the savage Mire and the sootblown alleys of Portstown's Rookery!

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Rane smirked and rubbed his stubbly chin. He rose from his perch atop an overturned crate, and hopped down to greet his fellow bounty hunter. Rane reeked of cheap intoxicants, and his eyes blazed with a merry, no doubt induced glow.

 

"Let's get off this rock and hunt some prey, pal. I've been sitting here for days without any action. A man gets bored over time; a man gets idle. I long to feel the familiar edge of a blaster grip..."

 

Rane smiled.

 

"Got any missions?"

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Faust wieghs his options. He still had the stash from the 100,000,000 credit casino hiest after the Battle of Endor, then his holdings from his job in the former GTG. Shrugging he makes the arrangements for the necessary funds to be payed and the bounty on his head lifted.

 

"That's settled." he states. He takes a look around the facilities of Outer Haven. "Spartan indeed. Excellent." Faust pulls out his pocket flask of Corellian brandy and takes a shot. "I'm with Rane on this. My trigger finger is getting itchy."

In Italy for thirty years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder, bloodshed - but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love, 500 years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.

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*Geki releases the binders, and tucks them away. He checks his account.*

 

Excellent. Welcome to the fold, Faust.

 

*Geki taps a button on his datapad, and shows the two other hunters a picture*

 

This piece of merchandise is awaiting collection, gentlemen. One Darth Mortis Diabolous, current whereabouts unknown. The bounty is one million credits. Do you have any idea where he is?

Geki1.jpg

http://www.themire.co.uk-- being a veracious and lurid account of the goings-on in the savage Mire and the sootblown alleys of Portstown's Rookery!

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Faust rubs his chin thoughtfully. His guess about the fueding Sith providing ample employment was correct.

 

"Byss, I believe. I'm was mentioned when he hired me to knock out the Emperor's wedding." The bounty hunter's eyes glint. "This isn't going to be an easy target. The place is a fortress and DMD isn't to be taken lightly. We're going to have to plan this one out."

In Italy for thirty years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder, bloodshed - but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love, 500 years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.

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Rane Scando stared dangerously at Geki's companion. It was his understanding that victims would not be aloud to pay off the prices on themselves. This was in violation of the agreement between the bounty hunters. Rane took a few steps back, his mind running through the various ways that this turn of events could burn him.

 

"Tell me more about this new bounty. I've never heard of the guy, what is he, small time scum? I've heard of Byss though, quite an infamous place. What kinds of risks are we talking here, what kind of security does this guy run?"

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OOC: Rane, Faust didn't pay off the bounty on himself. He placed a separate bounty on himself, to capture and bring him here. I naturally went for the bounty that paid better.

 

IC: Faust, I assume you have visited Byss. What do you know about security?

Geki1.jpg

http://www.themire.co.uk-- being a veracious and lurid account of the goings-on in the savage Mire and the sootblown alleys of Portstown's Rookery!

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Faust shakes his head. "I've never actually been there. The contract I recived came over holonet. My estimates are based on what I saw when the Imperial Palace was attacked. He has a strong body of battle droids and a siezable fleet. We should stock up on EMP bombs for sure and worry more about the speed of our ships than raw firepower."

 

The blue eyes soften as Faust turns his attention to planning. "If this bounty is going to work we're going to need speed and stealth and a quick way out after we perform the hit. Getting off the planet will be harder than getting on."

In Italy for thirty years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder, bloodshed - but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love, 500 years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.

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Amidst the overturned crates and fuel drums in Outer Heaven's frigid starship hangar, many things were hunting. Mostly these things were small native animals such as little rats scurrying for bits of food dropped by bounty hunters amongst the greasy floor.

However, something far more potent was hunting now. A red targeting laser, visible through the mists howling in from the outside air, darting along the crates and the walls, searching for prey.

 

Over on one stack of crates, three men were speaking with an air of solemn business about them. From their mannerisms, one might have thought they were plotting to murder someone.

The men were so preoccupied with their planning that none noticed as the thin ruby beam fixed itself upon the back of the head of Rane Scando.

 

Outside, crouching in a snowbank up to his waist, the silent man with the sniper's rifle checked his aim. He hated having to use the targeting laser, but in this kind of visibility, there was little option.

A tiny grin came to his face as he squeezed the trigger.

 

"DUCK!!" someone shouted just in time, diving into Rane and taking him to the floor. A crack pierced the air, and the shot zipped past its intended target, burying itself in Vladimir Faust's mechanical arm with a snap, nearly wrenching the thing off entirely.

By now, people were screaming. Many of the bounty hunters had enough restraint to keep their cool, and ran for cover quietly. Alarm klaxons went off, filling the air with their harsh grating.

 

Shot after shot punctuated the air, sparking off the floor. Rane, on the ground, avoided the brunt of the fire, but nearby Jidai Geki grunted in exquisite pain as a bullet drove into his hip, and another blasted through his shin and out the other side in a spray of blood. The laser wandered over the makeshift cavern, heralding the strike of a bullet again and again as bounty hunters dropped with gunshot wounds to the brain.

darthgrief.jpg

(5:46:09 PM) Five Wing Seraph: make a thread called "I want to get plastic surgery to get tusks grafted into my mouth"

(5:46:18 PM) Prince Scumbag: okay

(5:46:21 PM) Prince Scumbag: after this one gets closed

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"BLOODY ****!!!"

 

A bounty hunter dives into Rane suddenly, taking him down and mistaking Faust's explitve for something else. The bounty hunter can feel the pressure as the first shot hits him solidly in his mechanical arm and barely pinpoint the source of the red dot that appeared out of nowhere.

 

Faust drops to the ground behind a table, blaster drawn in his good hand. His shoulder ached at the wrenching blow which impacted his arm, which still appeared fully functional. The eyes went dead cold and a deep frosty blue. "I'll kill the little bastard," he hisses between clenched teeth.

 

Faust reaches into his trench coat and pulls out a gun with a peculiar looking projectile. He can barely make out a red glow somewhere near a snow bank outside. Faust doesn't even think about it. The projectile was a rocket mounted thermal detonator. Faust aims and launches the deadly sphere at blinding speed towards his target. He ducks back behind the table as a blinding flash illuminates the interior of the cave and several large snow backs sublimate instantly by the detonator as it explodes well outside the cavern.

 

"Rane!" he hisses quietly, "Get Geki to safety. I don't want a wounded man around in a situation like this. I'll stay here and make sure that son of a ***** sniper is dead."

In Italy for thirty years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder, bloodshed - but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love, 500 years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.

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*Geki coughs violently, bringing up a gout of thick blood. He spits the crimson mess from his mouth, and wipes the strings of blood that remain with his hand. Blood pours from the two wounds. Concentrating intently, he attempts to reestablish his fragmented rapport with the Force, corrupted by the touch of the Prometheus virus. He feels the depth of the Force touch him, and he puts his hand to the hip wound. It is a tenous link at best, but it is enough. Geki holds the link long enough to seal the wound and begin the healing process, but his virus-ravaged body corrupts the touch of the Force. He screams as a blinding pain sears his brain, and several labourers in the vicinity are brutally struck by sporadic tendrils of kinetic energy as Geki loses control of the Force. Blind with rage, Geki kinetically hurls a durasteel packing container in the vague direction of his assailant, but it crashes several metres wide. The injured Bounty Hunter struggles into the cover offered by a nearby box.*

 

Goddamn bastard... made me use the Force...

 

*Geki reaches into his cloak and pulls out a chrome sphere, with a sharp proboscis protuding from it. He digs it into his arm, and transfers millions of his nanoprobes from his bloodstream to the sphere. He pulls it free*

 

...let's see how he likes this...

 

*Geki hurls the sphere, physically this time, and it lands next to the sniper. The nanoprobes are soundlessly released into the air, an extension of Geki's body, and the sniper inhales hundreds of thousands of the probes involuntarily. Geki feels the probes enter the assassin's bloodstream, and smiles through the tint of pain and rage...*

Geki1.jpg

http://www.themire.co.uk-- being a veracious and lurid account of the goings-on in the savage Mire and the sootblown alleys of Portstown's Rookery!

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The beast leaning over the scope of the sniper rifle has smirked involuntarily at the knowledge that others were fearful and in suffering because of him. Whatever price he had to pay would be more than worth it. He would show them all, yes...

 

In the far distance of the hangar, two figures reeled from their wounds. The sniper could barely make them out without the aid of his scope.

One was taking aim with some sort of rocket....

 

Son of a--

Flames leapt from Faust's palm as the rocket-propelled detonator hissed towards the source of the ruby beam.

The shadowy Falleen's eyes widened in shock, and he did the only thing that came to him by instinct--

He threw his rifle aside in an instant and, bringing up his palms, he sent forth a blistering ball of white Force flame just as the tiny thermonuclear grenade exploded mere feet from his position. Even the energy of the darksider's soul was not able to fully match the pure explosive force the TD packed into that one microsecond, and the creature was sent sailing backwards, yelling, into a sheer rock wall.

 

When he regained consciousness from his daze a minute later, he noticed with more than a little dismay that his precious bone chainmail had been shattered in the back where it had protected its wearer from the impact of the rock.

In addition, his fine black camo had been badly burned, and though his reptilian skin shielded him against most of the heat, he still had second-degree burns up his arms and hands.

That, and his rifle lay off to the side, the barrel bent at a thirty-degree angle where it, too, had struck the rock.

DAMMIT!!!!

 

As he got up, he moaned in exasperation. There was a small orb at his feet that had been hissing gas for God-knows-how-long. He hoped in passing that he wouldn't die. At least, not before killing as many people as he could.

Dammit, he was going to make those b***ards pay...

Feeling the blood of hatred boiling in his veins, he pulled from his back a large weapon which he particularly enjoyed, and stalked from the cave entrance silently. Spotting Faust as his head was turned, he leaped into the air.

 

Had Faust chosen to turn around at that very moment, he would have been terrified at the sight of a seven-foot Falleen, black camouflage and wild hair blowing in the wind, silently descending upon him while swinging an axe the size of a traffic light.

 

The viciously sharp blade buried itself with a thick sucking sound into Vladimir's shoulder, carving a swath nearly a foot long down the man's torso.

darthgrief.jpg

(5:46:09 PM) Five Wing Seraph: make a thread called "I want to get plastic surgery to get tusks grafted into my mouth"

(5:46:18 PM) Prince Scumbag: okay

(5:46:21 PM) Prince Scumbag: after this one gets closed

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Faust feels the blade ching off the metal holding his artifical arm in its socket and tear down and tear through the rib cage. Faust pulls forward and rips the blade out of his body, spilling a small trail of blood behind him. The giant footlong gash he held tore through several rips, but failed to go deep enough to cut them off or sever any internal organs, though his artifical arm swings in desperate danger of falling off. If he survived it would take some time to mend the bones and steel holding that in place in addition to recovering the lost blood he leaked onto the floor.

 

Faust round houses Grief, kicking him solidly in the throat, causing him to drop his virbo axe and back off gasping for breath. Faust takes his good hand and pistol whips Grief in the face, knocking him back another three feet to the floor, with a bloody mess appering over the Falleen's torn up and bruised face. Faust throws aside his spend gun and draws his vibroblade, eyes constantly on the sprawled sniper.

 

"Rane, finish him!"

In Italy for thirty years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder, bloodshed - but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love, 500 years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.

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Shielded from the assassin's eye by a relatively large container, Rane stood fumbling with his gear. The narcotics he had taken earlier were slowing him down, and had nearly cost him his life. He swore under his breath as he watched the assassin bury an axe in his comrade's shoulder.

 

Rane leapt forth from behind the canister; blaster rifle held high above his head like a club. Rane blasted past Faust, and clubbed the assassin in the ribs using the rifle. The force of the blow bent the barrel, making the blaster useless. Rane threw the damaged blaster rifle to the side, and drew the two blaster pistols from his side.

 

"You messed with the wrong folks, pal. Hope you enjoy hell."

 

Rane fired a single bolt from each of the pistols; the shots hit directly in his left and right kneecaps. Rane then hit the assassin across the face using his armored hand. Stepping back, Rane placed his blasters back in their respective holsters, and turned to Faust.

 

"This guy is a damned wizard, better get rid of him."

 

Rane turned back to the assassin, and motioned for a nearby droid to restrain him. The bulky droid lifted the assassin, and stared questioningly at Rane Scando and the bounty hunters.

 

"Remove his weapons, and put him on a ship - freighter will do, I guess. Program the ship's navigation computer for Coruscant."

 

Rane cocked his head in the direction of Faust.

 

"I've never seen this stunted piece of slime before in my life. That fellow on Byss no doubt heard of the bounty, and sent him here to eliminate the threat. We'll let this guy crawl back to his master; a sign that we are not to be messed with. Besides, safer for us to have him out of here as soon as possible. This makes the bounty all the more difficult. I guess we can say that that fellow on Byss knows we are coming."

 

The droid dragged the assassin away, and placed him in a small decrepit shuttle. Moments later, a worthless navigation droid enters the ship and programs the jump to lightspeed. The ship rockets off into the night sky, leaving the bounty hunters and Outer Heaven behind.

 

"Where is Geki?"

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A ship passes through the vast sea of mists and finally lands on one of the platforms of Outer Heaven. A human male steps out of the ship and begans walking towards the gate entrance. Or so it seemed. He walked past the doors, without even taking notice of the guards. They knew who he was.

 

As he walked inside, his human features began to detiorate, as a rugged, scarred visage became visible. It was his true self, his Clawdite self.

 

"Hello, Brell Daviot."

I will make it quick, and painless.

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Where....

The howl of engines. Through an odd angle, a starlit sky in a window, the landscape fading to mute under.

NO. It would not happen this way. Even if the body fell, the soul would remain. And the Force. He was strong, and such things weren't meant to be...

 

The haze of pain faded slowly from his mind as he realized his situation. In a shuttle rapidly rising from Outer Heaven. Still clothed in his black camo, but sans weapons.

Except one.

--Shall we, my Wielder?-- growled Chattur'gha, Lord of Flesh.

 

He made no answer. He was going to retrieve his equipment.

The switch that enabled the shuttle's navicomp snapped into the off position as a wake of Force struck it at the assassin's whim.

The Falleen stumbled to his feet--

--and collapsed in agony as his shattered kneecaps crumbled under the stress.

No matter. More fuel for the Dark.

Lifting himself up into the pilot's seat, he reprogrammed the shuttle to return to its point of origin.

 

The three were undoubtedly surprised to see the shuttle descending once more into the hangar...

 

With a tremendous crash, the shuttle collided violently with the hangar floor at a good speed, jarring the entire complex and sending crates tumbling to the ground. People dove for cover once more in shock and surprise.

The shuttle's ramp hissed open, and the Falleen rolled out onto the floor amidst the wailing of alarm klaxons. Using the Force to give himself a steady, smooth levitation, he avoided stepping upon his shattered limbs.

 

The face of the Fallen was a mask of vicious rage, twisted and distorted with sickeningly cruel pleasure, a disgusting mockery of anything any sane person would dare call happiness--

 

He slowly lifted one hand into the air.... contracting it into a shaking, trembling claw of a fist...

Some thirty feet away, Vladimir Faust yelped in surprise as his arms were suddenly pinned to his sides by an unseen hand. The man's surprise turned to shock, then to a ghostly, painful pale as he too was lifted inches off the floor.

The horrified onlookers could do nothing but stare, aghast, as the resounding cracks of breaking bones echoed long and loud...

 

The unseen hand gripped tighter.

Faust's panicked breath turned to wild, hoarse moaning as he was compressed in upon himself.

The cracking of bones seemed like popcorn popping as each joint and socket was forcefully wrenched from its place, from fingers to ribs to ankles.

Then, with a ridiculously loud SNAP that sounded like metal plates being clapped together, Faust's knees were suddenly crushed so that they bent the wrong way.

 

The scream that ensued was so long and loud that several grown men began to cry at the sound of it... and then, it pinched off as the unseen hand tightened around Faust's throat.

For twenty perfectly silent seconds it was held there.

At the very moment where unconsciousness would give way to brain damage and death, the Falleen made a sweeping motion with his hand. Faust was forcefully released, sailing far across the room to crash with a sickening, meaty thwap against a wall.

 

The assassin lowered his hand, his breath unsteady and ragged, and a glint of demonic delight in his eye.

 

"Back off. All of you... now. Or the same will be your fate."

 

They hesitated.

 

"Step away from my weapons and be silent. NOW!!"

 

He pulled a smooth, long cylinder from his tattered clothing and brandished it.

"DO IT!!!!"

darthgrief.jpg

(5:46:09 PM) Five Wing Seraph: make a thread called "I want to get plastic surgery to get tusks grafted into my mouth"

(5:46:18 PM) Prince Scumbag: okay

(5:46:21 PM) Prince Scumbag: after this one gets closed

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Faust doesn't even blink. In one single instant Grief lies dead on the ground from a quick blaster shot by Faust as it drills between his eyes. The deluded and hallucinating Falleen overlooked the fact his left arm, hanging limply from a fragment of shattered bone contained a force nullifying ysalmari carefully concealed inside, encompasing everything in a 10 foot radius with its no force protection. ((Check Character Database thread in this forum please)) The images he saw existed only in his dying mind.

 

With Grief dead, Faust pulls out a fire bomb and from a distance lobs one at the corpse, which is quickly reduced to ash by the flames and heat. Faust, with the assassin affirmatively dead, turns over to Rane, his icy blue eyes emanating a cold malice. Faust speaks in a deadly quiet voice to his comrade.

 

"The next time I say for you to kill someone, do it. Your bravado nearly got us killed."

In Italy for thirty years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder, bloodshed - but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love, 500 years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.

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