Any of these can be resuscitated - I'm game if we can track down any of the other players
I'm game also, just say the word.
Message Boards - Boba Fett Fan Club → Posts by Lord Revan
Any of these can be resuscitated - I'm game if we can track down any of the other players
I'm game also, just say the word.
Name: Valok Haal
Appearance: 6', athletic build, light skin tone, short brown hair and dark brown eyes.
Personality: He is generally calm and level headed, usually keeps to himself but will voice his opinion if deemed necessary. He also tends to observe people and situations before making a decision on his next move.
Previous Occupation: Agricultural Farmer
Additional Skills: Sharpshooter, Heavy Equipment Mechanic
Loyalties: His Clan and personal Code of Honor
Armor: Scout set Beskar'gam (Boba type setup) - Primary pieces painted rust red with beige and gold details; mismatched brown(R) and yellow(L) gauntlets, with grey/beige cod and neck plates over a gray flightsuit.
Equipment: Typical ammunition and storage pouches worn with his armor, medical kit, small blaster/slugthrower mantainence kit, fully equipped sensor array built into his helmet with rangefinding hardware as well as holonet and ground-to-orbit communications capability.
Weapons: Modified (Collapsable) Czerka Series 145 Scoped Slugthrower; Morellian Weapons Conglomerate .48 caliber Enforcer Pistol carried on his right hip, plus a snubnosed DE-10 blaster pistol tucked inside his boot.
Gauntlet Weapons: (L) Dur-24 wrist laser, MM9 wrist rocket; (R) Integrated FWG-5 flechette launcher
Bio: Vahlok was born and raised on Mandalore, the youngest of four brothers, growing up as farm hands on the Haal Clan Agricultural Farm; now currently a major supplier of food on the regional scale surrounding the Kelita valley and Keldabe. Things worked out well for him at first in the family business, so Valok decided to stay under contract for his father when he came of age. Eight years of crucial work maintaining equipment and keeping local wildlife out of the growing zones had kept his mind sharp and an excellent shot, but he decided it was in his best interests to move on after the job had been completed. In recent months, Valok left the Farm to stay with his older cousin, Solus Auurin, to train for the weeks ahead of him as a Mercenary; in this time he learned advanced ballistics and honed his skills as a sharpshooter, along with building a client database and sub-contractor network to rely on steady work. Finally, Valok was ready step off world and face the galaxy for the first time
"Shabla Deathwatch." Solus muttered while piloting his speeder through the streets of Keldabe. "There for a while I didn't have to see their bantha-ugly faces around here until all the political mess with the frackin' Pacifists."
"We aren't going to be able to stay out of it for long." Valok sighed. "Revolution is on the horizon, alot of Mando'ad see it."
"Way I see it, the strongest will come out on top...and it ain't gonna be either one of them two." Solus smirked. "And I'll make sure of it, even if that means the death of me."
"I say let those two fight it out, then we'll just clean up what's left." Valok grinned. "After all, how hard can it be to run a nomadic warrior people?"
"Heh, not that easy ad'ika, not that easy." Solus chuckled as they pulled up to one of his usual tapcafs. "Grab your bag, this is the place. The man you need to talk to is sitting in the corner booth, his name's Drakus. Ralin Drakus." Solus gestured to the door. "No need for me to introduce you, now go. K'oyacyi."
"Ret'urcye mhi." Valok nodded, they clasped forearms and went their separate ways. "Ralin Drakus, eh?...Hmm."
Valok grabbed his bag and threw it over his shoulder as he walked up to the door entering into the dimly lit establishment. The majority of patrons glanced at him for just a moment a he stepped in, but resuming their meals afterwards. Valok simply nodded in acknowledgement to those that kept their eyes on him as he worked his way around the numerous dining tables centered in the room. He finally moved up to the granite serving counter to order a tall glass of tihaar from the barkeep; grunting in amusement as a portion that had sloshed onto the bar fizzled as it hit some unknown residue coating most of the stone top. After a few swigs of the fruity, yet fiery clear liquid, he casually observed the corner where Solus had indicated his old partner was sitting.
...That has to be him there...
He took a long gulp of the strong liquor and made his way over to the man, noticing a clean, but battle-damaged helmet on the table. In front of him sat a scarred warrior with a cold expression on his face, fumbling with the empty glass at his fingertips.
Valok paused for a moment. "Beggin your pardon, you mind if a I take a seat?"
He noticed the man's eyes narrow on him a long moment, then nod to the opposite side of the booth he was sitting.
"Thanks. I don't mean to intrude, my name is Valok, Valok Haal." Before sitting down, Valok carefully set his bag down on the floor beside his at the booth. He moved to the center of the seat, placing his glass of tihaar on the table. He noticed the man relax slightly, leaning back in the booth.
"What can I do for you, Valok Haal?" The man said, almost uninterested.
"I believe you know a brother of mine, Solus Auurin." Valok leaned forward slightly. "What do you know about the Karrek job?"
Yup, spotted McCoy a few times while I was there. Also, I didn't get a chance to meet up with Jeremy or Daniel and take pics, but I do have several pictures of the event in general I may post later on...
...but there is one thing everyone here may be interested in that I didn't see posted. It's a print done by artist Christian Waggoner, (famous for his 'Reflections' Series) did a run of just 250 prints just for the event, it's called: "On the Hunt for the Great Chewbacca"
And I managed to snag one, #71 of 250
What's going on everyone? It's been ages since I've been on here and talked to any of you guys; So, what's new?
Note: This is to all remaining BFFC Veterans that are ghosting through the boards (You know who you are) sign in and reply to this post!
Edit: I was going to MegaCon, but some stuff came up and I missed it. Well, next year I guess.
Name: Sehrill Dakrimm
Species: Cybernetic Human
Rank: Sith Assassin
Appearance: 6', Glowing Red Photoreceptors, wears an all black military style bodyglove with various pouches and holsters.
He also wears an unusual rebreather mask.
Weapons: One Red Short Lightsaber,
Two MWC .48 Caliber (Slugthrower) Pistols w/ Removable Suppressors.
Dakrimm was sitting on the bunk in his cabin, meticulously pouring over the spy reports from the Sith Academy, when the atmospheric entry light blinked on his mask's HUD. He finished marking possible items and events of interest in his datapad, shutting it down and stowing it. Even though Sehrill and many others had reviewed the last reports from Odacer-Faustin dozens of times over, he felt the answer was right in front of them, hiding in plain sight.
His gut told him so...what little was left of it, anyway.
I don't even know what to say, that is the 3 3/4 equivalent of the Medicom RAH figure.
Just...wow...skillful work, looks perfect.
Anyway, Celebration was awesome...! I had the pleasure of meeting a few people from the boards here and from the Mando Mercs. The Panels were great, the interview with George Lucas was good, and the exhibition hall was MASSIVE with a full scale TIE interceptor and several other props brought in by the Belgian 501st. It was the best convention I've ever been to.
"-come on you little chakaar!" Mir punched the screen on the door controls; he had been locked in the engine compartment of the KT-400 freighter for over an hour and his frustration was starting to show. He paced the small room for a few moments, trying to come up with a new strategy. "Okay, what do I know so far?" Mir grabbed his datapad off the hyperdrive, plugging it into spliced wires hanging out of the wall. "The ship hasn't moved and the lockdown is still in place, so that must mean the crew is no longer onboard...but why?" He leaned on the group of wires hanging over the exposed power conduit, not paying attention.
"...OSIK!" Mir was nearly blown across the compartment. "Whoah, whooooah...shab, that was close." He rolled over, patting his back where a bit of smoke was coming from. Fortunately, the grade IV Ablative plating in his vest took all of the energy displaced by the arcing electricity. He looked up to see that the previously sealed door was stuck halfway open. "...and convenient."
Mir grabbed his datapad and practically leapt off the ground, out the door. Blaster drawn, he did a quick search of the ship's main hold, noting the boarding ramp was down as he sprinted up the narrow corridor to the bridge. As he reached the top, Mir saw the duros captain slumped over the command chair with a blaster bolt through his head, and the rest of the crew were nowhere to be seen. "Damn, someone beat me to it." He dumped the body in the floor, and took over the chair.
"Time to get out of here."
After a few minutes of wading through warning messages in the freighter's main computer, Mir managed to get the manual controls up and running. He double checked all of the ship's camera feeds to be sure he hadn't missed anyone that may have boarded. Satisfied, he pushed the throttle forward and pulled back the control yoke. The KT-400 lifted off the duracrete pad, cruising out of the port. He looked over the cityscape in disbelief, seeing blasterbolts and black smoke scattered throughout the urban terrain.
"Have I missed something?" Mir reached to scratch his head, but was stopped short by a blaster muzzle.
"Yes you have."
The four armed men halted their discussion, focusing their attention on Mir.
"The problem, sir, is none of your concern." The middle security officer said. "Now stand back, this dock is now off limits to the general populace."
"Ah well," Mir casually glanced to see if there were any holocams in his forward field of view. "I am not the general general populace."
"I don't care if you're the queen of kriffing Hapes," The officer gripped the blaster rifle slung at his side. "This area is off limits to ALL non-BPA personnel, so I suggest you leave...now."
"I'm sorry for the misunderstanding." Mir halfway turned, casually sticking his hands in his overcoat pockets. He promptly drew the large framed Seski pistol with with such speed the guards had little time to react.
The the tightly focused beams of plasma burned clean through the light armor the security troops had been wearing, two were holding their chests groaning, one laid unmoving and the other frantically reaching for a blaster mere inches from his grasp.
"Ah-ah-ah.." Mir kicked it away, waving his index finger. "That was a mistake."
"You k-killed-" *THWACK*
"I don't have time for this." He quickly walked beneath the freighter, searching for the engine maintenance access panel. To his surprise it was open, and he climbed up in it just as the sound of clanking boots came down the boarding ramp.
Mir wiped a bit of sweat from his brow, sighing. "Easy enough..."
I should have posted this, I sent an email to Aaron the day after it was released with all the the info for a news headline but I guess I should have sent it to someone else instead.
((Err...Legend, Su'cuy and Su cuy'gar are Mando greetings, roughly translating to "So you're still alive." Also, my contact's name is Grimaldus, and he is off planet. I'd rather no one else control him if that is okay.))
"-shab, slow down. They what?" Mir quickened his pace to a fast jog, racking the charging slide on his MkII. "Drymes, you said there was no way it would be noticed... The courier did what?... Alright, that Duros will wish he never met me."
He closed the line, tucking the long pistol under the rain cloak he was wearing. As Mir entered the docking bay main hall, a team of security personnel darted past him headed in the direction where his shipment was to arrive. "Osik!" He spat under his breath, following them. This had already happened once before, and he was the last man standing. This wasn't Tatooine, and the Hutts weren't there to sweep the mess under the rug.
Mir casually walked up beind the armed enforcers, forcing a smile.
"What seems to be the problem, officers?"
"Anything?" Mir looked down at his datapad for a moment, then back at Cors. "Are you aware the Republic has sent Jedi Peacekeepers here in an attempt to squelch the conflict between the miners?"
"Foolish. Only the Jedi would be dim-witted enough to endeavor on such a futile mission."
"Even a handful of Jedi couldn't make this problem go away, which is why I plan to worsen things for them, if you don't mind." Mir stifled a grin. "It's in my job description, after all."
"Yes. Your information may prove useful, the Sith Empire thanks you for your patronage." Cors nodded and turned. "One more detail, when shall I expect those rifles?"
Mir tapped the screen on his datapad. "They're in transit, I'll say tomorrow around oh-nine-hundred."
"Excellent. Carry on."
Mir watch as the troopers promptly regrouped and walked back into the streets before beginning the moderately long walk back the his apartment. He duly noted the blaster supply shop located at the end of his street as a possible business prospect. Mir gazed up and down the apartment block as he walked to his room, seeing the effects of constant overcast and rain; a thick green moss grew in most of the exterior cracks and crevices of the duracrete walls, accompanied by algae and mold. The rooms, however, with comfortable enough. Built in dehumidifiers and geothermal heating units kept the apartments livable, and inexpensive. He entered the apartment, sealing the door behind him, unsure of how things would look in the near future. The coming war would wipe out half the city, he knew it.
"War... War never changes."
Mir watched as Merlidan evaded a few drunken punches and slipped out the back door. He promptly checked the the datapad he'd tucked away when the woman sat down. There were two messages: one from his supplier Grimaldus, a Mando ex-mercenary and possibly his best friend. The second was from Corporal Grayner, the customer, informing him of their arrival and confirming the meeting.
"I'll just call you back." Mir tapped the call request icon.
In a few brief moments the scarred image of a hardened, but gleeful Mando Merc appeared on screen. "Su cuy'gar ner'vod!"
"Su'cuy! I hear you've got some nice hardware for me?"
"Indeed I do, and it is indeed. Those new Aratech carbines are top notch, unissued."
"And the rifles?"
"They were arsenal refinished by Czerka and have improved power packs with heavy chambers."
"You have yet to steer me wrong, Grim."
"Hey, it's me. Anyway, your ship is prepped and ready, nav is logged. Should be taking off within the hour."
"Alright thanks, catch you later, vod."
Mir closed the call, slinking his way around the crowd of drunken miscreants and out the back door to the alley. He promptly sent a message to Corporal Greyner, indicating his new location. Mir leaned against the worn duracrete wall of the cantina, and waited.
Name: Isodore Mir (Goes by Mir)
Occupation: Arms Dealer
Appearance: 6', thin/average build. Short cut dark brown hair, pale skin. Usually wears black military styled clothing with a blaster-resistant vest.
Weapons: Customized Seski-Mark II High-Velocity Blaster pistol, CBP holdout blaster.
Mir sat at a small table in the corner of the Trawler's Gap tavern, awaiting his contact. He had been planetside for two days, and already he could see the storms of a civil war brewing. Mir watched as a heated conversation at the bar escalated into a fist fight, then into a full blown cantina brawl. He sighed and returned his attention to the datapad in front of him, checking the status of his ship's cargo. It was currently docked on Atzerri with three crates of Aratech carbines already onboard, and five crates of Czerka blaster rifles ready to load.
Mir was browsing the various cargo hold cameras of his ship when a plainly dressed woman walked over to his table.
"Mind if I join you?"
Mir shrugged. "By all means." He discretely tucked the datapad under the heavy hooded rain cloak he was wearing. "These fights seem to be happening more and more often."
The woman took the chair, cracking her knuckles after she sat. "You're not from around here, are you?"
George Lucas does not consider EU canon.
That can be proven by watching last week's disastrous Clone Wars episode.
I haven't seen the episode yet, so I don't know what is going on. All I know is that the 'Mandalore Plot' episode really screwed alot of things up.
Well, I don't know if anyone here has heard or not, but C5 is coming to my neck of the woods at the Orange County Convention Center, located in Orlando, FL August 2010. It's supposed to be bigger than C4, so we'll see. Details in the link below.
For anyone going, tickets go on sale December 10th.
I really don't see the problem here, if he was promoting a product to sell and make money off it I can see why you'd want to kick him out, but I don't know what the big deal is. He obviously thought there might be people here who play paintball and think the bounty hunting concept is cool and may want to mix it together, otherwise he wouldn't have even bothered taking the time to create an account to post this. Honestly, I see no harm done.
Great stuff tach, I also like how you did the one with the kneepads on upside down true to the original scene.
"Well..." Lev reached into his pocket for another cherry-flavored blowpop, but came out empty-handed. "Damnit, I'll have to pick more of those up when and IF we get outta here." He muttered.
"Talking to yourself there Jimbo?" Dan was loosening up a rappel line he removed from one of his MOLLE pouches.
"Yeah, don't mind me, I do that alot..." Lev examined the seamless edges of the wall that materialized from nothingness. "Magic trap no doubt. Good thing we weren't inside the passage."
"I'll say." Dan hammered the line anchor into a crack in the stone floor, then tested it. "You sure you don't want to go first?"
"Makes no difference to me, I just wanted to use that line."
"Alright cowboy, shoulda kept your mouth shut." Dan handed Lev the rope. "Here you go."
"Fine." He wrapped the rope around his wrist, and gripped it with both hands. "Wish me luck." Lev wasn't too worried about snake bites, he'd been bitten by a Puff Adder while in Morocco only a month before.
"How is it down there?"
"Snaky." Lev shoved a few of the serpents off the raised walkway with his boot. "Get your *** down here."
"Very funny." Dan clipped the rope to his rappel harness and slid down in a matter of seconds.
"See here? The walkway is raised slightly." Lev pointed out. "There, shine it down the path."
It was littered with snakes, at the end there was a Doorway lit by two torches. Lev looked around, grabbing an unlit torch from a pillar that was within arm's reach. He flicked the lighter open and lit the torch, illuminating the area around them.
"Just wave, kick. Easy as pie." Dan grinned slightly. "You're in front, remember?"
The two proceeded slowly, clearing the venomous reptiles as they went along. Once they got to the stone door archway, Dan shut of his light and took one of the two mounted torches. They followed a staircase up to another open room, which contained a small bridge leading across some sort of bottomless fissure. It was obviously trapped, as there were several massive blades handing from above.
"I don't see any trigger mechanisms," Dan examined the floor. "let's just take it slow."
Suddenly, the blades dropped and the sound of chains and gears cranking overhead. The guillotines began to rise and fall continuously.
"And there it is! Of course, of course...why not." Dan threw his arms up. "It's gotta be like magic or something."
"Damnit to hell..."
Lev stood away from the group, casually examining the room's layout, looking for alternate exits. He couldn't believe what he was seeing, more vampires joining the group.
"For the love of..." Lev crouched down beside a moss covered stump, putting two fingers on his ear. "Fort, you hear me?" He started moving some small, unusually placed stone bricks out of boredom.
A few moments later, a reply came. "Yeah, you seeing this ****?"
"Ridiculous. If I had an automatic weapon, I'd gun 'em all down where they stand."
"I hear you, although the girl may be of some use to us." Dan glanced over his shoulder.
"I think I may have just found the ticket out of here. Can you get past the vermin without calling attention to yourself?" Lev tested a large vine that ran down the side of the newly discovered man-sized hole for weight.
"Hey, it's me." Dan walked over in such an obvious manner no one payed attention.
Lev stood up, casually gesturing towards the newly discovered hole. "Just big enough for a full-grown man. I think it'll work."
"I think so."
"It's roughly fifteen feet down, and that vine looks like it might hold long enough."
"Let's move...now, go."
The two began creeping down the vine into the unknown.
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