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Star Wars Galaxies with Yivvits and MrBubble

How Many Jobs Could A Bothan Do, If A Bothan Could Do Jobs.

Bios, stories, and other miscellaneous ideas and thoughts from the mind of Zurthas.

December 2007 - Posts

  • What Zurthas Does For A Living

    Here's one of Zurthas' missions, made up as I went.  Some things may seem outrageous, but it's starwars, and it's me.  Enjoy!  Oh yeah, it's 3 pages long, just a warning.

     

     

    A Colonel was addressing a special operations unit about to embark on a mission most of them would not return from.  They were in a submerged bunker, armored with multiple feet of reinforced concrete and steel.  The Colonel stopped mid-sentence and looked up, a light whistling sound found its way through the armor.  Suddenly, a large thump, quickly followed by a loud bang, as part of the roof collapsed onto the troops below.  The remaining who were still conscious heard a second, much lighter thump on the roof.  A dark figure dropped from the new hole in the ceiling, almost unnoticed.  The dazed survivors looked amongst the rubble for the wounded soldiers underneath.  Few if any heard the small gasp that came from the head of the room.

    The colonel stirred, finally opening his eyes in a dark smoky room, with only one wall lit, just barely.  He groaned slightly, realizing painfully that his left leg was broken.  The light on the wall responded to the sound by jerking to the left onto the side wall, and then the source faced him, just a narrow strip of light, which then went out.  His eyes were not spared the onslaught, as two bright lights,  a bit higher then the small strip, and not spaced very far apart, turned on, cutting through the smoke, and bearing down on him. 

    A low voice mumbled, “well, for effect” and suddenly the two bright lights went out, replaced by a sparkling flare, which split in two, and now he could see his tormentor.  The two flares dropped to the ground, revealing a tall, thin figure, encased in armor.  The golden visor glinted in the light of the flares.  The mysterious figure was holding a small black, highly durable booklet, which had been in the Colonel’s jacket pocket before the meeting.  It was their battle plans for the next 5 years.

    “He can’t get out of here!” the thought roared through his mind like a TIE fighter.  He reached for his e-beacon on his belt.  The man looked up from the glowing object on his wrist, realizing what he was doing, and full on dove across the room, landing a fist in the colonel’s face, but it was too late, the hand fell on the emergency button.

     

    Zurthas heard a muffled alarm, got up from where he landed next to the colonel in an attempt to stop him, and jumped through a hole in the wall.  He turns on the lights on the top of his helmet, and comes back out with a large cylindrical tank on his back, and holding a flame thrower.

    He pulls the flamethrower up, holding it with one hand and resting it against his shoulder, and with resolve seldom seen outside the movie theater, states,” When in doubt, use fire.”

    Arriving at the top of a long spiral staircase, with several burning carcasses somewhere behind him, he slowly forces the door open, enough to survey outside.  Army personnel are lined up and patrolling, with others obviously searching for the colonel in charge, both groups are assisted by vehicles, heavy and light.  Thankfully for Z, the emergency beacon didn’t have a homing chip.  He places the flamethrower next to his right thigh, and activates the magnetic clips to hold it.  Pulling from his belt several C4 charges, he places them on the door, and then he removes a cardboard tube from his back, mounting it on his shoulder, presses the safety, and fires a single high velocity rocket at the nearest tank through the door.  He jumps backwards over the railing, landing a floor down, mid flight he presses the button to detonate the C4 on the door.  He races back up the stairs, turns out the door, and begins throwing flames.

    His advanced new flamethrower, with a range of over 200m, easily reaches most of the armed personnel in the area, as well as some of the vehicles.  The lighter armored ones are out of action almost immediately, but some of the crews in the heavier vehicles aren’t getting cooked alive, and are still providing quite the nuisance. He reclips the flamethrower to his thigh, and grabs two thrown rockets from a clip.  Leaning around a corner, he tosses one towards an APC spewing light turbolaser rounds in his direction.  The rocket travels about 5m out of Z’s hand, before the rocket ignites and propels it towards the APC, where it impacts with enough force to punch through and kill the operator.  With the other rocket, he turns, and seeing a tank slowly coming around a corner, he throws it, attempting to time it so it would hit the turret when it became exposed, but the pop out fins catch the wind and the nose falls, and it skips off the ground, destroying one of the tanks repulsor pods.  Now disabled, the tank’s fire from its main cannon is blocked by the building.  Seeing how most everybody who was in the courtyard had taken cover in buildings, he ran into what seemed like it would be an armory.

    With plenty of small rooms filled with explosives and live rounds, mayhem ensued as soon as he lit the flamethrower.  Though looking at the diagnostic screen on the weapon, Z realized he had spent more than most of his fuel in the courtyard, so he disconnected the fuel tank to the actual flame thrower, and dropped the auto-booby trapped fuel tank onto the ground.  He attached the flamethrower to his back and pulled the shotgun from the shin attachment.  Turning the next corner, he showered the room with BBs and lasers. After clearing what he thought was all the rooms, he returned to the main room to see if he could scavenge any useful weapons.

    Scouring among the weapons, he heard a door open, and looked towards the sound.  One of the Colonel’s personal guards and two other, much lower ranking guards stepped through the door.  The main one, a trandoshan, was wearing what seemed like an awfully ceremonial outfit to be wearing during a one man invasion.  Then he realized he was here to fight, one on one, mano a mano.  The trandoshan was holding a power hammer, so Zurthas unclicked his belt and bandolier, and also disabled the magnetic weapon clips, so he was left with a machete and his father’s hunting dagger.  He placed the dagger in a hideaway compartment in his right bracer.  He felt no need to discard his armor, as the trandoshan was too wearing armor, though Zurthas felt confident it was not nearly as good, nor did it cover his face, hands, or feet.  Looking down at himself, he activated a feature in his armor he had not used in a long time, the two liquid weapon dispensers in his right bracer lifted their back ends, and two long, brilliantly red feathers emerged.  This was no longer about politics; this was a fight of honor.

    One of the lesser guards clapped his hands twice, and the trandoshan charged, Z figured it meant go, so he did the same, sidestepping at the last moment, as his opponent went roaring past.  The fight went on for a good twenty minutes, Zurthas simply sidestepping more attacks then blocking or giving.  The trandoshan suddenly paused and reached under the small cape he was wearing, and pulled out a modified, high power blaster pistol.  Z froze, then dodged as the gun went off.  Figuring if it was a free for all, he turned, going to one knee as he did, raised his right arm, and activated the pop out mini flame thrower.  He grinned under his helmet, and napalm gushed out the tube, but it failed to ignite, his target simply coated in goo.  He dove to the side as another shot from the blaster rang off, then jumped up and charged at the dosh, pulling his last flare from his hip.  The trandoshan raised his gun for the last time, as Z jumped he lit the flare and jabbed it into his opponent’s face, causing initial pain, before he burst into flames.  He about faced the two other guards, reached down while lifting up his right leg, on which his shotgun was situated (he had slyly placed it there when he dodged after his flamethrower malfunctioned) and keeping it attached to his ****, fired it twice.  Both guards received all the force of one shot in their stomachs, they died almost instantaneously.  He returned to his pile of weapons, and replaced each to its spot.

    Peering around the door frame, he saw a conjugation of armored vehicles in front of the building, though they were facing in no particular direction.  Stealthing himself, he ran back to the door through which he came from the spiral staircase, and jumped down the stairwell.  Arriving where he had left the Colonel, who was still there, or at least his body was, he stepped over the carcass and into where he had stashed his weapons months prior to the attack.  He took what things he thought he might need, along with a 2 foot long, 10 inch thick, round topped cylinder, and booby trapped what remained.  He slung the SPABTC (Self Propelled Air Burst Tactical Nuke) over his shoulder and headed back up the stairs.

    Arriving topside, he scaled a short building, for a vantage point to activate this suicide weapon with.  He unstealthed, and leapt off the roof, landing in the middle of a crowd of people and vehicles, at first nobody wasn’t surprised enough to realize who he was, so they all stood in stupor, until he stabbed the SPABTC into the ground, and activated it, in which, they began to grab for their weapons.  Zurthas sprinted for cover, behind a pillar on the mayoral building, pulling a book sized box and a waterbottle sized cylinder from his belt, he pressed a button on the cylinder and stabbed it into the box, causing a handle to protrude from each object.  He had started his count at 15 when he had initiated the nuclear device, he was now at 3…2…1.   The bottom inch of the nuke exploded, igniting the rocket motor in the upper half, which sped strait up to over 500 ft in less then two seconds.  Upon hearing the initial explosion, Z had grabbed both handles on the shield booster mechanism, sending millions upon millions of volts of electricity through his suit, which it used to create a ton of more shield power… for about 5 seconds.  The nuke exploded at 572 feet above Zurthas and the large group of enemy forces.  The 9 kiloton warhead wiped out the entire city.

    Zurthas’ boosted shields had held up, though the outside of his armor was glowing red when he stood up.  His armor’s radiation filter had kicked in, and he headed out of the flattened, lifeless town, through a mile or two of charred and decimated forrest, and to a pre designated rendezvous point.

     

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