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Forum Feedback / Re: this forum is dead
« Last post by dredwulf60 on July 24, 2017, 02:44:11 PM »
At least the lights are still on.
We can hope...
The petition still seems to be going strong. As of now it has passed the 200,000 signature milestone. Over the past few weeks and months it has gotten the attention of a lot of websites who after mentioning it have in turn caused massive influxes of new signatures over short periods of time.
Role-Playing / Re: The Old Republic: Hidden Fronts
« Last post by Drake Vhett on March 19, 2017, 02:07:55 AM »
"Negative. Republic SIS has already laid the groundwork for the native guerrilla force. The Moochers worked with local engineers to construct a hidden outpost in one of the jungle cliffs outside of any major cities. I am told the site was previously a Moocher colony before they moved to another location closer to civilization to improve trade access. The structure is shielded from scanners, has limited autodefenses, marginal medical facilities. From what I understand food will not be an issue as there is plenty of local game to hunt in addition to a plethora of edible flora" Thrasken informed. The rattling of the ship increased as it hit the atmosphere of the planet, and a short laugh erupted from one of the other mercenaries across the room.

"Feel tha' gents? Internal dam'ner are turned down to a wee bitty. Less power for tha' 'perials ta detect, butta lot more rattle-n-bang for us! Proper ride this is!" jubilantly explained the stout man who owned the earlier laugh. He had simple combat armor on, dull green plates covering major spots with a blue undersuit beneath, held tight to his body by a number of black straps. He wore a yellow metal frame over his torso, something that looked more at home on a construction site than a fighter. Numerous arms and tools were tucked together, taking up as little space as possible. The frame rattled against his armor, the straps keeping it on struggling with the force being put on them. His red beard was neatly trimmed, and a tattoo covered his shaved scalp.

A few more chuckles from individuals around the ship followed, but all were drowned out by the noise. Thrasken made a motion from his mouth to his ear, indicating he would continue speaking when he could be heard.
Role-Playing / Re: The Old Republic: Hidden Fronts
« Last post by Noldorin Mando on March 10, 2017, 09:39:26 PM »
Peltawu remained silent throughout the impromptu briefing, scanning the hologram and evaluating the local resistance mentally. With new recruits being trained every 3 months, that would mean shortened training cycles, an inability to follow soldiers into the field to guide them in action. Not to mention the implicit high casualty rate of any species that reproduced at such a high volume. Birth rates that high meant one thing: predators, and damned effective ones. As he felt the shuttle pitch downwards into its descent, he shifted his bowcaster across his knees and wiped his sweating palms on his trousers. Space travel rankled with him, the shuttle deck was too hard, had no give, spread every vibration and tremor of the craft through the floor and up through his knees. It was like standing ahead of a boma stampede. Sniffing hard to clear his nose, Byrren set his jaw and checked the safety on his bowcaster, making sure the bronzium switch was flipped to the right to block the trigger. The last thing he needed was an accidental discharge within the first 5 minutes of establishing contact. Satisfied, he leaned forward and tilted his chin towards Thraskan to gain his attention.

"These criminal elements, then. Will they put us in contact with the indigenous populations, or are we organizing an urban resistance and leaving sleeper agents before we even begin a campaign in the forests?" He asked, somewhat tartly. He was a hunter, and while he could fight in the cities and was a better shot than likely anyone else in the shuttle, he'd been brought onboard for rural geurilla operations, not house-to-house fighting and fly-bys on the local Sith watering holes.
Forum Feedback / Re: this forum is dead
« Last post by Vlet Hansen on March 06, 2017, 10:21:44 AM »
I didn't check here for a while, but I'm still here. College and two jobs and a wife keeps me rather busy.
Forum Feedback / Re: this forum is dead
« Last post by tee18 on February 16, 2017, 10:34:27 AM »
Still around.... still drop by from time to time....
Role-Playing / Re: The Old Republic: Hidden Fronts
« Last post by N-11 Commander Ordo on February 14, 2017, 03:14:08 AM »
"Every three months?" Gil asked with surprise. "I wonder how quickly they will grow too old to fight, if they mature that quickly. I don't envy LoQuiin his job..." he paused, "We're expecting high Moocher casualties then, too. Shame."

They all took their seats and strapped in as the ship rumbled into the atmosphere. One of the other mercs looked as if he were going to be sick. It was rare to see such behavior in the modern galaxy of travel, and even more so in an experienced combat unit, but not unheard of. I guess that's why he's a ground-pounder... Gil thought to himself. Space travel didn't bother him in the slightest, and never had. He had traveled a lot within the core worlds as a child, tagging along with his parents as they performed on all the prominent stages and filmed holovids in luxurious locations. Gil had often expressed his desire to do more travelling outside the safety of their cushy lifestyle, which of course brought instant disbelief and disapproving remarks. Gil loved his parents, and appreciated their love for him, even if they did not understand him. How horrified they would be to know where he was now, and what he was doing.

Gil felt some excitement and anticipation building in his gut. A new world, new races, new team, new mission. A wholly unique experience awaited, and though it did little to change his stable outward demeanor, he took a moment to breath and center himself for the coming hardships and challenges. 
Role-Playing / Re: The Old Republic: Hidden Fronts
« Last post by Drake Vhett on February 13, 2017, 03:09:33 PM »
"The local resistance will have no trouble providing troops, though the quality of each fighter is unknown. We will be working with both the native Gados and Moochers. The Gados average 1.8 meters in height, and show heightened levels of dexterity. They also suffer from a fragile biological composition. The internal organs of a Gados are spread through the entire body in a ribbon-like fashion, thus any penetrating injury can be lethal. Dismemberment is usually fatal for them, something the Empire has been using to incite fear in the natives," Thraskan stated. He then held his hand out at waist height. "The Moochers are much smaller, averaging at a meter tall. They will be the bulk of the resistance forces as we have allied with a Moocher queen. A single queen births thousands of Moochers to maintain the population of their dens, and the beings rapidly mature. We will not have an issue maintaining numbers, as every three months a new generation of Moochers will be ready to fight"

As Thraskan finished that statement, he stopped, and seemed to do some calculations in his head. He jerked a thumb over at another being across the bay, a Zabrak speaking in a group of other mercs.

"Though their combat potential will be based on how quickly Bandar LoQuiin can train them. LoQuiin is a former security consultant, he trained corporate agricultural security forces on the outer rim. It is my understanding that local farmers have been forming militias and bombing large corporate farms for decades. The corporations bring him in to train security forces to handle the threat, and he will be the primary training sergeant for the resistance fighters," Thraskan reached out and steadied himself as the ship shuddered. He checked the datapad in his gauntlet before motioning towards the seats near the trio. "We're going to be descending into the atmosphere in a moment, I recommend we take seats"

Thraskan moved in a measured, minimal manner as he took his seat and immediately pulled the crass harness over his chest armor. Once he was finished he continued to speak,

"In my estimation the most valuable allies we will have are the various smugglers, criminals, and other discontents that frequent the shadowport. Without any real government oversight on Abregado-rae, along with the very accepting nature of the Gados has lead to a large number of criminal syndicates making their homes on the planet. Due to the lack of official Republic backing, they will likely be willing to deal with us as a means to remove the Imperial forces to return the earlier ease of business they enjoyed"
Role-Playing / Re: The Old Republic: Hidden Fronts
« Last post by N-11 Commander Ordo on February 13, 2017, 02:57:12 AM »
"Not much to go on, then, other than we've got a lot of work to do." Gil studied the hologram thoughtfully. This was shaping into more of an underdog operation than he initially anticipated. The presence of such a heavy Imperial contingent foreshadowed very difficult operations in the coming days. They weren't going to give this planet up lightly. Gil glanced around the hold at the other mercs; they'd be doing most of the heavy lifting, it seemed. 'Advise and assist the local resistance forces,' the original message from the SIS had said. Clearly, there would be emphasis on the latter.

"I'm curious to get on the ground and see the kind of shape our new allies are in. They've got a hell of a fight coming to them. I've no doubt this group," he motioned to the assembled professionals, "will bring the pain. But will the locals?"
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