Star Wars Intervention: Echoes in Eternity (An Original Trilogy Game; Always taking new players!!!)

IC: Mahaben
Battle scene, near ‘Downtown’ Craci

The anger emanating from the troopers was almost like solar radiation, burning and sickening all at once, but the ex-jedi had endured worse. He refused to be seduced by the self-gratifying proddings of the darkside.

Could they not see the origins of the darkness that suffused their being, the source of their perpetuated misery.

But the glimmer of hope existed in everyone.

At least that was the on going ‘theory’.

“Give me one sithig good reason I shouldn’t blast you right here Jedi? You took my whole squad. Well, its payback time. You have one sentence to convince me otherwise before I blast you.”

The trooper in front of him meant business, as did the trooper behind the blind folded miraluka. Mahaben could ‘see’ every single one of them as plain as daylight, their auras radiated so potently, heightened by combat and aggression.

The Trooper in front of the robed man leveled his weapon at Mahaben, point blank range. As if that was going to make any difference.

“You better make it good.”

Mahaben fought of the urge to sigh and simply wipe them out. True, he was no longer a jedi, but he’d vowed to follow Ashla and be a force for good and balance wherever he trod. So far that wasn’t working out very well at all. So best to just keep on trying.

“Are you a puppet or a man?” the blind man breathed out.

“Look around you, puppet man. This devastation did not happen of its own accord. The Puppet Masters are dining on the blood of innocents heaped on plundered fortunes and the corpses of the puppets. What man who is self-possesed ignores his moral compass and does nothing in the face of such affront to common decency? No, not a man who is true to himself, only a puppet obeys his Masters so blindly that they remain insensate at the sight of children’s corpses.”

The ex-jedi paused to allow only the briefest reflection.

He said one sentence. Ha!

“Yes, I killed your squad, but you killed thousands of Jedi, too many of them who were children, unlike any in your squad. You shot them in the back and killed them dishonorably, in the way only a puppet could. I was forced to put down brave men with whom I’d fought side by side and even rescued from the grasping hand of doom. And for what? Until a time when the Puppet Master turned friends into foes but with a word?”

Another brief reflective pause. Mahaben opened himself to the force, feeling its currents and nuances. This was a fragile moment…where anything was possible.

“If you are indeed a man, I stand not against you. My grievance is with those who visit misery upon the innocent. I have seen men like yourself turn from the path of destruction….and those few who showed true courage and cut their Master’s strings, soared in their freedom. I’ve seldom beheld such a wondrous thing. So, I ask again….what are you? Puppet……or Man?”

Mahaben rooted himself in the present. He did not allow distant memories to intrude upon this exchange. It was as if everything had gone still and stopped to become a witness to what transpired.

The miraluka, fully aware of everything else that was going on in the surrounding area, chose to remain to face the trooper. There was something else happening here which he could not quite pin-point, but he sensed that it was significant on several levels, especially because the trooper had not done what a ‘real’ imperial puppet would have done.

Which was to shoot any ‘jedi’ on sight.

Tag: @Intervention
***************************************

IC: Winterkill (as Ezzio Creed)
Governor’s Palace, Garrison Base, medlab, Craci Prime

He tried moving out of the fool’s way without bringing too much attention to themselves, but that was not about to happen. The brain-dead human was much too distracted and managed to collide with the evading nagai anyway. Icredible. Winterkill had to wonder if it was intentional.

The nagai gave the doctor a calm, yet withering look.

“I am so sorry…Mr.Creed? Uh, well…I wasn’t looking…”

Damn.

A glance is faster than a hand, that’s why it was crucial to be the focus of attention. Unfortunately, the doctor’s visual focus did not remain solely on the nagai as intended. He had now seen ‘too much’.

“Hey, you can’t be back here! Security! Security!”

“Doctor! You have to watch where you’re going!” Winterkill said suddenly with measured alarm. He stepped closed to the doctor and at an angle which blocked any nearby camera, their sudden proximity being too close and unintelligible for visual details, but in reality, he’d swiftly produced a blade and slipped it between the doctors ribs causing immediate unconsciousness and internal bleeding. Even though the doctor was indeed in a ‘medical facility’, Winterkill preferred to permanently silence the unlucky doctor, or at least for a long enough period so the mission could be completed.

“NURSE! NURSE!!” The nagai called out, waving at the nurse they had just befriended. “ I don’t know what happened….” He in feigned remorse, grabbing the now wounded doctor and moving him away from Tiaca.

“He just walked into my blade as I was drawing it….I’m so SORRY!!!!”

It was a performance of a life time.

As soon as his eyes met that of the ‘nurse’, Winterkill gave her a slight shake of his head, communicating that the doctor should not ‘live’.

“Please help him!” he suddenly begged in earnest.

“That’s why I hate working in crowded places….” he said, forcing tears from his dark eyes.

Stoopid humanoids.

Now he had to manipulate perceptions and make sure that when security came, he gave a good performance and kept their interests away from Tiaca.

Winterkill pushed away his feelings of distaste for operations that were not strictly stealth, infiltration and assassination. He had to remind himself that this was for the captain and for the Mercs, to whom he owed a great deal.

Fine then. The thespian hat he would wear, but now someone would owed him big time if he had to take the fall again.


Tag: @Intervention, @Mitth_Fisto

 

IC: Havah Jeth
Governor’s Palace, Garrison Base, Medbay, Craci Prime

Sitting in the small room all alone he looked forlornly at the medical supplies that would ease his suffering. Not only were they in reach, and he knew what to do with them. He was unfortunately not able to do so without exposing himself sufficiently that even a brain dead janitor would know that he was not what he appeared. And in the bowls of an Imperial Garrison was not a place such a revelation could be used.

Still, there was something he found he could do as he waited as his hip began vibrating. Pulling out the comlink and setting it to cone in for a private conversation he replayed whatever it was he had missed. What he heard was a little disheartening. The mission was scrubbed and they were supposed to be rendezvousing at the Luck's Gamble. Small snag, they were stuck inside a Garrison on lock down. Behind lines would normally be a boon to any such mission, except the Imps in their wisdom had a couple fortified locations, and were doing grid based sweeps of the base to remove insurgents hiding out.

Sighing he fumbled for a moment with his gloves to set the thing to contact Winterkill, "Did you know Night is day? The moon is the sun now, and i have seen nothing hear. We'll have to give them a bad mark, but considering circumstances I doubt much more than fine will be levied and the blame shifted on someone already dead."

TAG: greyjedi125, Sith-I-5, Bravo / Intervention

---

IC: Tiaca
Governor’s Palace, Garrison Base, medlab, Craci Prime

Sitting and listening to the whirring of the machines conversation and hacking of the Imperial system was boring work. But using an Imperial ISB level hacking droid was a boon to such things. She already suspected that the camera's by now had a filter being applied both presently and retroactively to their presence here, the systems backlog was likely cleared, herself and the Nagai would be ID'd as fugitives once the system stood down from alert after two hours as those that she was supposed to get black marks added to, and a few files were being altered to put a shipment manifest tagged for a cover ID's pick up to be set elsewhere in system, or at the next nearest system under Imperial control that had enough of a Rim presence.

When the Doctor came in was the hardest part though. The Sephi was supposed to be doing his job, but the Doctor still got off the word security before being silenced.

Winterkill still tried to cover it up, even drawing back in the unknown nurse. Feeling a slight tug on her arm she new the droid was trying to reduce it's profile so she leaned in. Hopefully it would be done and disconnect shortly. At that point she would be able to apply white gauze over the tear and exposed droid and be able to leave here unencumbered.

TAG: All those before again

 

IC: Captain Jason Lasso
Outskirts of apartment complex, Craci Regional General Medical and Surgical Center, near "Downtown"


MUSIC: Mega City One


Lasso's Danger's Sense retarded itself to a faint trickle. So it appeared the sniper team would be hanging out, assuming Lasso got these impressions correct.

"I got your Day is Night call. Not in the sense of know what it means, of course." He nodded at his cigar-smoking commanding officer. "Morning."

The sun was rising even higher now as a Acclamator-class transport drop ships sailed overhead, casting it's long shadow over everything and blocking out the sun. Several TIEs were escorting her, their screaming engines in the background. The low flight of the drop ship cast the ship's massive engine heat everywhere and for a moment it felt like a heat wave was passing through, the ship's own air currents blowing a rush of air through everywhere and kicking up debris. The ship soon passed, as did her TIE escort.

"Morning Commander," Lasso said, nodding briefly at the elf, "We need to get the Luck's Gamble out of here before the Army starts shutting down all traffic. The space debris is lightening up and any friends on the Imp side we had during this crisis are going to be replaced by Army brass who care nothing of Good Samaritans. If we can get in with the lass trickle of civilian air traffic escaping the city from the debris, we should be okay."

Lasso glanced the way towards Imperial Army Troopers departing from a Multi Altitude Assault Transports hovering over the street intersection down a block to their left. The troopers were deploying quickly, but a few scattered blaster shots could be heard from roof tops or store fronts, "We better get moving Commander before we are mistaken as one of the "For the Colonel" nut jobs."


TAG Sith-I-5

 

IC: ISB Stormtrooper Hastings, Staff Nurse Bakewell, Imperial Garrison medical centre
Location: Craci Prime


The ISB-affiliated stormtrooper had vis-only holocam surveillance of Operations up on the administrative levels, where everyone had been killed by the "for the Colonel" terrorist that his astromech had waxed on the landing pad.

So even though alarms within the control area were alerting them to the system intrusion, he had no way of knowing about it.

An exclamation of "-can't be back here!" caught his attention, then "Security! Security!" turned startled heads.

Hastings pushed himself off the wall, and drew his E-11. Peering round the large but heavily-populated medical bay, he tongue-commed the troopers outside the blast door.

"We may have a situation inside."

"Copy. Keep us informed."

Hastings nodded to himself, the threat outside in the rest of the garrison far outweighed his immediate problem, and he shouldn't expect backup just yet.
Sounded like the call came from the back of the medbay, left far corner, to the side of where that BoSS being was resting.

He could see his form through the open doorway.

The trooper wondered how to get to the scene. Hug the walls, or down the middle of the room, between the beds. The second option carried the risk of him getting outflanked and jumped, unless...

"Okay, people, get down please." He urged and indicated with his left hand, while the right aimed the carbine at the ceiling.

Either side of him as he proceeded into the room, people attending the patients squatted down, so he had a view of both sides, but not ahead yet.

He moved slowly further into the room. "That's it, get down please. Get your heads down."

A third of the way to the trouble spot, he detected movement to his left, a door to the changing rooms open, and swunged his blaster that way as the Bakewell nurse emerged, fresh clean scrubs clad pleasingly round her form, hesitating to see several people hunkered down before her.

She glanced to her left as someone called out for a nurse.

"Staff Nurse." He called softly to her. "Get down."

Tag: Intervention, Mitth_Fisto (Jeth), Greyjedi125 (Winterkill)[/b]

---

IC: Imperial Trooper nrcs, Bast and Marsi, repulsortank at spaceport

Natural light and the first heat of the morning washed over Connor from behind, as the hatch at the back of the armoured vehicle was pulled open.

Corporal Bast ducked into the dark vehicle first, cheekily running his fingers through Connor's hair as he passed him to move forward and settle into the driver's seat on its sprung metal unipod, which creaked as his full weight settled on it.

"Marsi, did you check him for ID earlier?"

"No," admitted the following trooper, "but I've sent his pic and fingerprints up to the Darkest Night. They'll find out if he's Imperial Police."

Corporal Marsi closed the hatch, plunging the interior into cool darkness again, apart from the multi-coloured lights from the data and control banks embedded in the walls of the . "Okay, hatch secure."

"Copy." Bast pulled back a lever, and there was the feel of the 'tank reversing back. "You know," he said, calling back to the prisoner, "you are in one of the safest places you could be right now. Being at the spaceport is undesirable for the next fifteen minutes."

The tank stopped somewhere, then there was a loud whine from the front as one of the two main laser cannon was raised to a steep angle.

"We're not going to be able to dent or stop that AT-AT, even if we can get a shot off, but I suppose we all do what we can."

Marsi dropped into a swivel chair opposite Connor and leaned towards him, elbows on his grey-clad thighs. "So, fella. You got any identification papers on you?"

Tag: Jedi General Gelderd (Connor Harrison) , Intervention (Darkest Night)

 

IC: Masha Tinovorsh
Hutt Caravel - Saloon Pod

Masha's smoke burned slow, only halfway through now and that annoying kriff-face hadn't said anything else yet. But then... There were noises around the holding cell. Like something being unlocked. Masha looked over to the entry hatch, the force field still holding strong and the outer door of the airlock still closed. Exhaling smoke in relief she wondered what it was, but nothing to be seen.... This is getting old... She thought, wondering what shavit was going to be pushed out in front of her now.

But, nothing pushed to the front, actually... The back? "What the... " Masha said quietly, something pushing into her lower back, dropping her cigarette and turning around with her leg back and ready to kick out at another stupid mannequin or maybe kriff-face, if she was lucky. It was neither of those things, a control console in a language she didn't understand. Probably wouldn't be able to hot wire this one... She thought. The artificial gravity compensated a bit for a shift in the ship's movement, but the feeling was undeniable, it wasn't very a good gravity field and gave a sense of slight vertigo before the body adjusted to the movement. The console however... Sighing again she didn't want to leave anything to chance and lit up another smoke, turning back to face the holo lens with the panel on her right.

TAGS: Sith-I-5, Bardan_Jusik, Skywalker_T-65

 

IC: Winterkill (as Ezzio Creed )
Governor’s Palace Garrison Base medlab, Craci Prime

[‘Did you know Night is day? The moon is the sun now, and I have seen nothing here. We’ll ahem to give them a bad mark, but considering the circumstances, I doubt much more than a fine will be levied and the blame shifted on someone already dead.’]

Amidst the unfolding scene of the doctor he had just accidentally ‘killed’, beckoning for the familiar ‘nurse’ to help and acting out in a display of guilt and ‘contrition’, Winterkill heard the message sent to him and immediately understood its meaning.

His dark eyes also picked-up the stormtrooper the moment he began to move. His weapon was pointed to the ceiling for the time being, and around him, sentients began to lower themselves in groups as he ambled forth. It was clear to the nagai that the whiteshell had been alerted of ‘something’ and was now investigating. Whatever it was, he couldn't be allowed to discover the infiltration team or their workings.

Though outwardly he continued to act the part, inwardly the nagai wrestled with feelings of annoyance which he quickly brought under control. The mission was scrapped for a second time, but now, instead of being safely above ground, they were now stuck at the bottom of a quarantined Imperial Garrison. Not really a good place to be, especially after ‘killing’ a human…while being an alien. Accident or not.

Such complications by now had become the norm during these missions, that the nagai was nearly unfazed. The question in his mind now was, which approach in oder to achieve the most effective egress.

That would depend on Mother Egg’s lead.

Winterkill was uncertain if their disguised mission leader, Havah Jeth was able to attend to his injury, or if Tiaca had completed her slicing.

One thing was for sure. He would have to buy them both some more time.

Turning fully to see the growing commotion, the nagai waved frantically at the trooper.

“Hey, over here! over here!!” he said flagging down the imperial soldier.

“This man is injured. Don’t you know some first aid? Help him! help him!”

If they survived this, Winterkill thought sourly, Havah Jeth had best never poke fun of this moment…well, at least not publicly. The way he felt right now…*sigh*…never mind that. It was now time to play mind-games with a whiteshell.

The show must go on.


Tag: @Mitth_Fisto, @Intervention, @Sith-I-5

 

IC: Havah Jeth
Governor’s Palace Garrison Base medbay, Craci Prime

Hearing the call for security and seeing the Stormtrooper begin to move off he gritted his teeth. What in the blue blazes had Tiaca and Winterkill done! He had given the message that the mission was a wash and they were to regroup at the ship, not that they were supposed to begin killing everything in sight. Not to mention he doubted they could get away with it, or could they?

Standing up with a distorted grunt he grabbed the small box with his medical needs and walked out the curtain. Feigning concern was easy, he doubted anyone knew how to read a four eyed masks expressions. "I know that voice sir. My bodyguard has been edgy since I was shot, we all are. I am sure merely an accident has happened." He spoke gruffly and and with winces in his altered voices barking tones and he walked behind the stormtrooper, keeping a good arms length behind the man.

TAG: Bravo, Intervention, Sith-I-5, greyjedi125

 

IC: Crewperson Mary Formal, cockpit of the Luck’s Gamble ILH-KK Citadel-class cruiser
Location: skies over Craci Prime


The rooftops, treetops, fields, and more disturbingly, the elevated conning towers of several Acclamator-class transports, disappeared under the main viewport as the cruiser nosed upwards, while a holographic Heads Up Display (HUD), courtesy of the Corporate Sector Authority, provided a thin vertical white line, crossed with horizontal short lines to represent some measurement of both their ascent, and the plummeting velocity of the AT-AT.

The air buffering had the target slipping in and out of their target lock.

Mary checked the concussion missile lock status for, like, the fifth time. “Target marked and locked in. Lock lost, dammit.”

The AT-AT was, some reason, hunched like it was sitting, the choob-end glowing red as it broke through the atmosphere.

Captain Lasso’s voice burst from the comm station speakers: “Quagmire to all call signs.”

“Under fire, under fire!” Mary finished for him, blowing her career as an On-stage Clairvoyant before it had really gotten underway.

“The day is night. I repeat, the day is night.”

“What?!” She stared at the circular speaker grille in front of Sydney. “Th-this fire mission is scrubbed, is he serious?!” She brought up her comlink, and responded. “Quagmire from Live Free. We copy. Please be advised, Luck’s Gamble is on a CSA-requested fire mission to stop an airborne AT-AT smashing the spaceport. Is that the day that is now night?”

“Chief, if you have the shot, take it.”

Tag: Vehn, Bravo (Lasso)

---

IC: Commander Yavscout, Nurse Ulrike, The Streets of Craci Prime, starring Karl Malden
Location: Craci Prime


The elf tensed himself, lest Lasso berate him for his forgetting what the code meant; he couldn’t help it. Some things remained in his head, and some things did not.

And there was no rhyme or reason to it, either, that he could determine.

For instance, he knew that the jedi term for Lasso stabbing his lightsabre into that trooper’s face, was, apart from “rude”, “shiak”.

Now, where in the Original Light would that knowledge be useful, outside of pairing with Jedi Knight Hank on that one-off quiz holoshow, How Quickly Can We Get Raided By ISB?

Both Mercs looked up to watch the impressively vast arrowhead of an Acclamator-class vessel pass overhead, the air around them dropping in temperature as the vessel passed between them and the morning sun.

"Morning Commander," Lasso said, nodding briefly at the elf, "We need to get the Luck's Gamble out of here before the Army starts shutting down all traffic. The space debris is lightening up and any friends on the Imp side we had during this crisis are going to be replaced by Army brass who care nothing of Good Samaritans. If we can get in with the lass trickle of civilian air traffic escaping the city from the debris, we should be okay."

From the reference to 'Good Samaritans', Yav guessed that either his work up at the UIS Mines had found their way back to the Captain, or Lasso simply knew what he was like by now.

Yavscout had relaxed upon seeing the way Jason had handled himself, but the sight of that Imperial cruiser reminded him that they were still in danger. He re-drew his E-11 and peered around warily, making sure to look up and down Lawrence, and along the visible alleyways. He was starting to think he better Camo' the both of them, but he had learned that he really ought to ask first.

"What the frag is that?" He murmured, frowning at the hovering Multi Attitude Assault Transport disgorging Imperial Army Troopers the street intersection down a block to their left to the sound of sporadic blaster fire from rooftops. He knew of the LAATs of course, but had never seen one of these frakkers.

And didn't the rooftop shooters see the Acclamator above them? Granted, it wasn't shooting at them, but they no longer had the higher ground. That skiff had sailed.

"We better get moving Commander before we are mistaken as one of the "For the Colonel" nut jobs." Lasso advised matter-fo-factly.

"Errrrr," Yav drawled in confusion, "what 'for the Colonel' nut jobs?"

The blaster fire intensified from the direction of the troop deployment and their red and white dropship thingy, something out of sight to the left, attracting their ire.

A white hovervan appeared, squeezing between the dropship and corner of the far building, and swerved towards him and the Captain, accelerating and dodging a powerful blast from one of the MAAT’s wing cannon-globes, which blasted a man-sized chunk of red brickwork from the side of the structure.

The elf looked across the grass fronting an apartment block to a window where the curtain was twitching, and a woman's face looked anxiously out at them.

"Alright, this way." Yav stepped over the low wall and decorative green hedge separating the grass from the roadway, kicked a pastel-coloured youngling's trike aside, and jogged over to the ground-level balcony adjacent to the window.

"Go away!" Called a femme's voice from inside. "We don't want no trouble! I've called the Espos."

Somehow, Yav doubted that. With the Security Police' well deserved reputation, that would definitely be crossing the Rancor Threshold.

At a loss as how to persuade her to let them in, and with the sound of blaster fire becoming nearer, he turned back to Lasso, only to find that the van, bearing the red Argath's Space Noodles branding down the side, had parked up next to Lasso.

The metal sides reverberated as blaster bolts impacted on them.

Ulrike leaned across her seat to open the passenger side door.
"Quagmire. Safety. Perhaps if you'd like to get aboard, I do seem to have attracted some interest."

Yav grinned. "Well, who doesn't like noodles." He turned wave to the civilian at her window. "Sorry, can't stay. You have a good day."

Tag: Lasso again

OOC: References - Streets of Craci Prime refers to The Streets of San Francisco, which was a long-running police series starring Karl Malden.

The "Rancor Threshold" is the SW equivalent of the "Godzilla Threshold".

 

IC: Kannari Oshi
Customs Processing Area, Craci Prime Spaceport


Kannari was relieved that the passengers followed her direction without incident, calmly and quietly boarding the bus. That didn’t stop the storm trooper from yelling at those who he deemed “Too Panicky” though. The vehicle looked to have enough space for everyone, a sleek passenger transport that were common in larger ports and terminals. Beside her, her new buddy the storm trooper muttered to himself. She didn’t catch most of what he said, but what she did hear appeared to be less than complimentary. But right now, she couldn’t give a Bantha’s backside about his opinions.

“Treasures, oh yeah, don't forget to collect your actual client.”

Kannari’s ears twitched at the mention of Mr Niall. The trooper was right. She had been swept up in the chaos and the situation, but she still had a responsibility to the Corellian man. The passengers continued to file past the Cathar and storm trooper. A male twi’lek in distinct green robes was leading his wife and children to the exit. He stopped and eyed the trooper for a moment. He looked like he was going to ask the imperial soldier something, but seemed to think again, instead turning to Kannari and addressing her instead.

"You, what about our ident papers?"

“The terminal should have your details from the ship manifest; you can be issued emergency replacements but not now. Please sir, you must keep moving” She shouted over the din, indicating with her hand the other passengers who were making their way to the bus. Hoping the Twi’lek would take her words on board, she brought her wrist communicator back up to her lips, pressing the button and speaking into it, her gold eyes still trained on the evacuating civilians as she did so.

“Mr Niall, Oshi here, what’s your status?” She frowned as again all she caught was the sound of static. “Sir if hear this, the terminal is evacuating, head to my location, move quickly” She pressed another button, activating a small beacon. Hopefully Niall would be able to pinpoint her location…but the lack of verbal response was worrying. The passengers continued to move and board the bus. Kannari bit her bottom lip as she scanned her surroundings. Would she have to go and look for him?

Time was against them.


TAG: Sith-I-5

 

IC: Natalie Cunnings
Imperial Governor's Palace / Garrison Base, Craci Prime, Craci System


Everything happened so quick. First, the Doctor. Then the Stormtrooper. And now everyone was hunkered down low.

While she had gone about her duties are the far right side of the medical bay, she had kept a casual glance towards Winterkill's direction. She was dealing beside a patient's bed; despite her removal from Merc service several months ago, her mercenary life style reminded her of several key point. One of those being the Model Q2 hold-out blaster pistol she had tied around her thigh, up her skirt, and protected by a spray-on anti-sensor coating. The spray only worked for 8 hours and that was assuming it didn't get wet; if it got a good spray of water, the coating would fail. So Natalie always had spare spray hidden in one of her hair spray bottles in her purse.

So with the Stormtrooper approaching Winterkill fast, Natalie decided it was time for extreme intervention (pun intended). She needed a distraction to give the Mercs time.

She checked anyone looking at her. No one, everyone was looking at the Stormtrooper. Good. She then checked security guards; everyone was distracted towards the Sormtrooper and his assignment. Good. Finally she checked cameras. They were all mid rotation away from her or on manual mode and focused on the dying Doctor. Good. She was in the clear.

She drew her hold out blaster quietly and tossed it to an alien medical orderly working on base, "Hey, hold this," she said as she tossed the weapon his way; the Rodian's eyes went big as he caught the weapon with both hands. Rodians were known as bounty hunters and mercenaries around the galaxy; one such alien being "inserted" into a Imperial base on the Outer Rim to spy for the Rebel Alliance was a perfectly legit mission. And despite previous Imperial clearance to work on base, the Rebels were known to have very detailed false backgrounds and ideas for their agents. Natalie would know; the Mercs were able to board a cargo freighter one time under Special Agent false ideas working for Imperial Intelligence. The Mercs had help from the Alliance obtaining those IDs in the first place.

The Rodian was an innocent, but his alien background---both for the Rebel Alliance and a Stormtrooper's radical disposition to aliens---would work in her favor. But more importantly, the recent attacks by the multi-alien and human "for the Colonel" agents made a alien, inside a recently attacked Imperial base, a perfect target as one of those Colonel agents.

The Rodian caught the pistol as planned and Natalie screamed in horrifically as she slapped the alien across the face. The Rodian, first started by the blaster, then by the screaming, and now by the slap, shot upright among the lowered medical bay.

Blaster, in his hands, in full sight.

"BLASTER! BLASTER!" Natalie screamed and started pushing people out of the way. Everyone started moving quickly for their lives, afraid that one of the "for the Colonel" agents were inside the medical bay!


TAG 007's, Sith-I-5

 

IC: Sergeant Major, BS-1118 "Animal"
LAAT troop bay, near apartment complex across from Craci Regional General Medical and Surgical Center, Craci Prime


“Are you a puppet or a man?” the blind man breathed out.

“Look around you, puppet man. This devastation did not happen of its own accord. The Puppet Masters are dining on the blood of innocents heaped on plundered fortunes and the corpses of the puppets. What man who is self-possesed ignores his moral compass and does nothing in the face of such affront to common decency?..."

Animal had lost the second half of the blind man's comment. It didn't matter. He was more focused, inwardly, on what the man was saying.

...ignores his moral compass and does nothing in the face of such affront to common decency...

Kept echoing in his soul. And it wasn't so much these words, but the next, that brought his soul to a crashing stop and realization.

“Yes, I killed your squad, but you killed thousands of Jedi, too many of them who were children, unlike any in your squad. You shot them in the back and killed them dishonorably, in the way only a puppet could. I was forced to put down brave men with whom I’d fought side by side and even rescued from the grasping hand of doom. And for what? Until a time when the Puppet Master turned friends into foes but with a word?”

The Jedi...

Animal had a single tear roll down his cheek inside his helmet. His gloved hands gripped the T-21's grip, the same T-21 he had killed Kid with, all those years ago.

Sithing Jedi! Animal cursed inwardly, Why did they have to become traitors! WHY! Kid, why did Kid have to do it! Why!?

BS-1116 (the Battlefield Engineer) was with Animal on that day. Both Stormtroopers had come from the same cloth, the same Kid, the same memory.

Animal knew BS-1116, after all these years, could read his thoughts.

“If you are indeed a man, I stand not against you. My grievance is with those who visit misery upon the innocent. I have seen men like yourself turn from the path of destruction….and those few who showed true courage and cut their Master’s strings, soared in their freedom. I’ve seldom beheld such a wondrous thing. So, I ask again….what are you? Puppet……or Man?”

Animal finally spoke to the Jedi, "Get out of here Jedi," Animal spoke, "If I ever see you again, I'll kill you. For Kid. So stay out of our way."

If this Jedi was worth his salt, he would do research and back trace any Jedi nicknamed "Kid" in the Clone Wars. Maybe he was worth his salt. Just maybe.

Animal lowered his blaster and nodded his head in a signal towards BS-1116 and both Stormtroopers walked away from the Jedi, aiming to get off of this roof-top.


TAG greyjedi125

 

IC: Atin Taab
Streets outside Craci Regional, Craci Prime

"Give me a few minutes." No sooner had the words left Atin's mouth than a signal came in through his comm system. "Safety and Scorch from Imotep. Quagmire needs backup assistance NOW!" The young Mandalorian felt a surge of adrenaline rush through him at the mention of the captain needing immediate assistance and he was prepared to drop his current assignment and rush off to his aid, but Commander Yavscout had other ideas. "Follow when you can," and he ran off trying to do his best Boba Fett impression with that carbine. Buir (father) would have loved that, he and Boba were not on the best of terms.

The Elf disappeared down the street, heading in the direction of the Captain leaving Atin to the task of figuring out how to break into the tracker's systems so that they too could track the whereabouts of the Johnny Boy's crew. He ran back to the stolen speeder van, sitting in it's driver seat. A Mandalorian in full battle rattle standing in the middle of the street doing...nothing was bound to attract attention. By the time he arrived he had already started the process of isolating the freq used by the tracker that Yav had left with him and had set up his bucket for routine radio signal triangulation. Given that he had the device directly in front of him that part was easy to do, but he couldn't read what it was broadcasting. he tried the easy approach, seeing if his buir had left any back doors into the systems for him to exploit. Given the fact that the Mercs were always bound to go their seperate ways it was a good assumption that his father would leave a means for another member of the crew to use the devices should he be incapacitated. Unfortunately, it was a wrong assumption.

"Shab."

OK, he would have to break into the devices's encrypted algorithms. How hard could that be? They were cheap devices, and his father while competent, was certainly no master slicer. Atin could do this. He tried for several minutes, using Yav's tracker as a base, to slice into the system that buir had set up to track them all. But it was to no avail. Atin was ready to give up, he thought about trying to contact his father and just ask him for the locations of everyone, but Taab had been NORDO (No Radio) ever since the group had split up. besides, Atin would earn a slap across the back of the skull for having to go to him for help.

"Shab."

A thought occurred to him, a trick he hadn't tried yet...

"Quagmire to all call signs. The day is night. I repeat, the day is night."

Atin shook his head at the sudden intrusion into his thought process. In fact it took a moment for the message and its speaker to dawn upon him. The Skipper was all right! But what was Day is night? He thought for a moment, he knew it was one of the Mercs code phrases for this op... It was the recall signal, or at least he was pretty sure it was. Looking through his HUD he saw that while his attempts to slice into the trackers had proven fruitless, his previous efforts to set his bucket up for signal triangulation had not been vain. There was a green arrow pointing directly to where the Skipper's current location was, well where he had sent the signal from. Atin exited the van now. The time for subtlety was gone, it was time to take quick action. Priming his jetpack he set his sites on where the captain should be, and took to the air.

TAG: Sith-I-5, Bravo.

---

IC: Beskaryc Taab
Hutt Caravel, Vacuum above Craci Prime, 7 minutes of oxygen remaining.

Taab watched with interest as the caravel drifted closer and closer to the larger cruiser, its forward hold still gaping open. The range numbers in his HUD clicked down, but they were slowing. Gravitic sheer, or perhaps the slightest bit of atmospheric drag was slowing down their momentum. The caravel wouldn't be reaching its destination that way. he checked his oxygen reserves. Just under seven minutes left now, plenty of time for something to happen so there was no need to panic. Still it might be best to start preparing for Plan Omega.

Staying low (there were still numerous fragments floating around out here) and making sure to always keep at least three points of contact with the hull, Taab crawled his way forward atop the caravel's main deck. It was slow going, and he had to clear some debris from his path as he went but he evntually made it to the front of the ship and could go no farther. Looking out to the cruiser it was still too far out of reach for him to use his fibercord whip and make a sure (well almost sure) crossing. If it came to it, and Sunny couldn't get the engines online and the hunk of junk moving, he would have to try to jump for it.
A shifting underneath him could be felt through the deck plating. Something was happening. Looking forward again he could see a bulbous shape sart to emerge from the ship's bow. An escape pod of some sort, or perhaps a command module fleeing the stricken ship? Another possibility occured to him. Maybe Sunny hadn't been able to get the engines online and had found an alternate way to get them off ship. In any case, the pod was under its own power (or so it seemed) and Taab could see only one likely destination for it.

Standing up shakily now Taab reached out towards the emerging pod and fired his fibercord whip at it. It immediately went taught as it secured itself to the pod and with a flick of a switch on his gauntlet began reeling him towards the smaller vehicle. Now he just had to worry about some bit of shrapnel cutting the cord before he could afix himself to his new lifeboat. But there was nothing he could do about that so he didn't dwell on it, instead he just watched as he was brought closer and closer in towards the pod until he could finally reach out and grab hold of it himself.

He grappled himself onto the pod now with a loud thunk (well it would be a loud thunk to anyone inside, out here in vacuum his collision with the pod made nary a sound). He hoped that if there was anyone inside the pod it was a friendly, or maybe even both Sunny and Edge, but he doubted he would be that lucky. He checked his oxygen reserve again, five minutes on the nose. Decoupling the fibercord whip from the pod now he retracted it back into his gauntlet while he held on for dear life.

TAG: Heavy Isotope, Skywalker_T-65, Sith again.

 

IC: Mahaben
Roof tops at battle scene, near ‘Downtown’ Craci

The wait for a response was not long at all, if measured by a chrono, but it certainly felt that way.

Mahaben stood still and remained calm. Through his blindfolded visage, the force honored him with a glimpse of what he knew to be a crucial process. He’d seen this so many times, he recognized the tell-tale changes in aura pulses, vibration and intensity. It was almost ‘impossible’ to correctly interpret these nuanced and intricate variations in aura, but Mahaben had learned to infer from them in a general sense, coupled with empathic patterns.

To the former jedi, feeling and sensing another sentient's shift in emotional states was no different from having an actual conversation.

The trooper was having a moment of ‘introspection’, or ‘soul searching’. It was quite a private matter really, yet a crucial one, and as a servant of Ashla, Mahaben understood the critical importance of such moments. At these micro-events, shifts in force natures usually occurred. The outcome of such shifts where hard to predict, since they hinged on unseen experiences and conditions that only existed within the subject and formed the totality of his existence and core being.

Why did a paragon of light suddenly turned dark? or why did a powerful monster filled with darkness turned to the light for seemingly ‘no’ reason?

These were but a few of the great mysteries of the Force.

This was no different, even if it were on a ‘smaller’ scale. Mahaben could only hope that his words had not reached deaf ears. He hoped he could reach the ‘living man’ encased in his unfeeling armor…and that this was not someone already dead, with no light to stir inside of him, a sad puppet of darkness.

So he watched and waited.

Whatever this trooper decided…everything else in this field hinged on that.

Blind eyes that saw things as revealed by the force perceived a faint pulse of light at the core of the man, who’s aura was suffused by darkness and pain. A struggle had taken place, but by the Force, Ashla had sway over Bogan.

And so, the trooper finally spoke.

”Get out of here Jedi.” The catch in his voice was almost imperceptible, almost-but it was there.

”If I ever see you again. I’ll kill you. For Kid. So stay out of our way.”

Mahaben silently bowed in gratitude to the trooper. His dusty form looking very much like that of an old beggar receiving a boon from an Imperial soldier.

The trooper lowered his blaster and nodded his head to his companion, who simply followed as he began to walk away. His actions were not questioned by anyone else. Mahaben stood his ground for several heartbeats, reflecting. He had not been shot at and no more threats to his were made.

For Kid.

The trooper's heart skipped when he had said those words, his ‘anger’ though present, were less intense around this name. Mahaben vowed to do what he could to look into this. He had a distinct feeling the Force was still at work here and that another chance meeting with the same trooper, would not be chance at all. After all, he had just disobeyed Order 66. At some point, there were bound to be consequences.


Boras, the Captain….

One moment had passed, seamlessly blending into another, bringing with it a familiar focus to the forefront. The robed man took several steps to the edge of the broken rooftop and looked out, ‘gazing’ at the scene before him. Opening himself to the Force, he let his senses guide him. Boras and Lasso still needed his assistance, there was still a war being waged, and time to make good their escape was getting shorter.

But even in the face of such trials, the force was strong with the Mercs.


TBC: ( Waiting on Boras scene )

 

IC: ISB Stormtrooper Hastings, Imperial Garrison medical centre
Location: Craci Prime

The ISB-affiliated Stormtrooper finally saw the nurse cower down, he proceeded down the hall. Motioning with his left hand for people to get down and out of his line of sight.

When motion from ahead had Hastings snapping his E-11 up again, he once more had to motion the being back and down, this time it was the BoSS agent. "Sir. The situation is under control, stay in your room. Get down." he repeated softly as he once more gave down gesture. Being the VIP in the med ward he had used a bit more tact, never looked one well on a report to say the person died because they were too loud and distracting during a security situation.

Besides, no matter what the VIP thought, Hastings knew better than to call in an all clear on a bureaucrats thoughts. He let a grin slip at that one as he reassessed and once more began his steady advance when the BoSS agent stepped back into his room.

It was then he heard another shriek, "Blaster! Blaster!" Snapping around Hastings spotted a Rodian sitting up in bed holding what appeared to be a hold out. Without much of a thought at the obvious threat he fired. Three bolts went flying in rapid succession, two finding their mark and one hitting some piece of medical equipment behind the Rodian. Could this have been what caused the call for security?

Rushing forward in messured steps until he saw one of the BoSS agents tech on the ground next a bloody body. Snapping the blaster at the alien he turned his head for a second quick inspection that the Rodian was dead, "Hold!"

TAG: 007 Group

 

IC: Captain Jason Lasso
Outskirts of apartment complex, Craci Regional General Medical and Surgical Center, near "Downtown"


MUSIC: Star Wars-Hyperspace Theme


Lasso jumped into the hovervan, sliding the door shut. Ulrike didn't waste time slamming on the gas and Lasso found himself butt first into a box of freshly cooked noodles. "I knew I should of taken shotgun," Lasso grumbled; outside the driver's windows, Imperial troops were pouring over every street, directing civilians to holding areas and crashing would be rioter parties on the street. Lasso watched as the nurse weaved them in and out of patrols of Imperial troops that tried to slow them down. A tank up ahead was hovering across the street with a group of Army troops in escort and just inches shy of the tank, the nurse took them down a back alley.

Lasso comlink beeped and the mercenary Captain couldn't contuine looking at his own roller-coaster ride out the front window of the van, “Quagmire from Live Free. We copy. Please be advised, Luck’s Gamble is on a CSA-requested fire mission to stop an airborne AT-AT smashing the spaceport. Is that the day that is now night?”

"Live Free, Quagmire. Continue on mission for CSA. Try to mix in well, then book it off the grid. Pick up the Security Chief and company on your way. Head for Safe Zone Two-Two-A and start to gather equipment and plan for Mission Varsity; alert me once your all ready to go. Stay low and keep out of sight. We'll meet you there after a short detour to pick up Mr. Vortex. Quagmire out," Lasso leaned up in between the driver and passenger seat as he checked his blaster for ammo, "Ulrike, get us to the CSA Governmental Complex, some blocks from it. We need to do some recon work. and meet up with Dak."

Between Taab and Yavscout, the two Mercs seemed to know someone everywhere. Had some contact, some old friend, someone who owed them a favor. Lasso couldn't remember who it was that had this "friend" in the most unlikely of places, but they were headed towards a safe house---of shorts---deep in the mountains near a lake. It was a private villa (photo), near a crystal blue lake, and was home to one of the higher up Corporate Execes of a Mid Rim company. Beautiful and tucked away estate, overlooking the distant capital city. It wouldn't provide cover for ever, eventually the Imperial Army would have recon units up the mountain, but it was a place for the time being to gather resources, plan, and get this contract done, but now with the Mercs in the driver seat.

Mission Varsity was the ultimate "crap has hit the fan" protocol for this contract; every contract the Mercs did had a "Mission Varsity" protocol. In the unlikely event that the Mercs' mission was exposed in such a manner as to dictate a fall-back last ditch fight, this well-fortified, equipped and supplied, and small-arms armory installed villa would be it. It was in the mountains, with only one road in and out, aside from an air attack. But the mountains would make any type of air strike but a orbital bombardment difficult, so ground troops would have to be inserted to handle any mission with a need for reservation. The near-by lake and woods would force any IDTs or Larties to zip-rope troop downs from air hover positions and exposed to sniper and small-arms fire on the way down, not to mention the aircraft themselves. A well trained team of commandos could defend the villa for a healthy dose of time before an escape plan could be devised. Near-by buildings (see photo) were part of the villa and housed various equipment for the highly rich, including several land speeders, work shops that were more like small houses full of tools, and other buildings of unknown use. A small staff of butlers and maids kept the villa up, as well did a small pool of droids.

Lasso's plan wasn't a last ditch fight and if Yav' and Taab would follow his train of thought, they would also be able to see his plan. Lasso knew that the Johnny Boy knew far more then they knew themselves; the Corvette's crew would have access to the HoloNet and new reports, as well as information resources that were looking at the Craci Prime "crisis" from a outside vantage point and see far more then the Mercs on the ground could. So if he knew what a Merc was---and he was sure he did---he knew that the Corvette crew would be assuming Mission Varsity at this point and plan accordingly.

That was step one.

Step two would be Mr. Vortex. Lasso and company---which Jason was hoping would include Mahaben and Boras---which would be to finish the contract as planned, then rescue Mr. Vortex back to the safe house. In truth, the safe house would hold a double meaning. While Taab and company fortified the place with the Mid Rim Exec's impressive array of weaponry for a "civilian" and hence protect Mr. Vortex from any harm, the safe house would also serve as the bonus end of the contract. The Mercs would have to ensure Mr. Vortex's safe travel off planet for his life, which would increase the contract revenue by three fold...or the Mercs would leave Mr. Vortex to the slender mercies of the Imperial Army.

Step Three would be the draw in; using Mr. Vortex as the bait, the Mercs would draw in Imperial forces, probably special forces units, into a fiery last ditch fight. In a dangerous game of chess, the Mercs would hold off Imperial forces as long as possible. Then blow the villa in a last ditch fight. Then take the secret underground private hovertrain, where the Luck's Gamble landed into earlier, to the extraction zone where the Johnny Boy would hopefully be waiting and a ride home. That Imperial blockade would be a problem, a course, but Lasso was confident that Wa Yay had a plan...or someone did, at least, on the Johnny Boy to avoid that little problem.

Step Three would have a double meaning on blowing the villa. For the average joe-smoe Imperial, the Mercs were gone. But Lasso was indeed hoping for the opposite; he wanted Hilick Soal to look through the clearly faked deaths and see that it was the Mercs. Lasso wanted to make a statement to the Empire and keep Hilick Soal guessing as to what the Mercs were really up to. That would, in turn, give Lasso time to find out what Hilick Soal was up to. It was a carefully planned game of chess. One that wasn't planned from the start of this contract, but one that would have to work. Hilick Soal was here and he wasn't going anywhere. Lasso looked out the front window and up to see the silhouette of the Darkest Night in space in high orbit.

If everything went as planned, the original contract would almost triple; while the "Standard Basic Fee" never changed, unless for certain conditions, the pay per personnel went up or down depending on the size of the contract. Considering this was a high level CSA assassin attempt, Lasso had added 25% pay increase for all Command Staff and a 50% pay increase for "Involved Mercenaries". Usually Lasso charged 25,000 across the board for on mission or reserve, but considering the high priority mission and the fact that all personnel were voluntary for the Craci Prime op, Jason increased the pay for those mercenaries. Lasso was doing the math on his wrist datapad now:

• Base Contract Pay (standard basic fee): 1 million credits
• Command Staff Pay: 100,000 per officer; 800,000 credits total
  • • Captain Lasso
    • Commander Yavscout
    • Major Havah Jeth
    • Chief Medical Officer Cook
    • Chief of Security Taab
    • Lieutenant Colonel Chris Streets
    • Hanger Chief Ayers
    • Chief Engineer Tim Williams
• Crew Pay:
  • Involved mercenaries on mission; 50,000 credits per personnel (10 active personnel on mission now, excluding Dak); 500,000
  • On call (rescue team) / uninvolved / reserve mercenaries on mission; 25,000 credits per personnel (Any rescue attempt by the Johnny Boy); unknown number
  • Standard Ship Senior Officer Fee (Corvette); 20,000 credits (6; Squadron Leader, Gunnery Officer, Chief Quartermaster, Chef, Senior NCO Wa Yay, Crew Chief); 120,000
  • Starfighter and Shuttle Pilots: 20,000 credits per pilot; 60,000
  • Standard Ship Officer Fee (Corvette); 10,000 credits per department officer (24 "Department" Officers; Senior Security Officer X1, Senior Nurse X1, Senior Maintenance [not Engineering] Tech X1, Senior Gunnery Technician X1)
    • 1 Officer per shift; 3 shifts per day (Gunnery excepted; 2 officers per shift); 240,000
      • 3 "Senior" bridge officers (seniority, NCOs)
      • 6 Gunnery Officers (Lieutenants)
      • 3 Security Officers (organic Sergeants; including Sergeants, Chief of Security Taab and one additional "Senior Security Officer" make up the whole of organic security. The rest are droids.)
      • 3 Maintenance Officers
      • 2 Hanger Bay Officer (two Wookiee bothers)
      • 3 "Crew" Leads (shift "leads" for regular crew)
  • Standard Ship Crew Fee (Corvette); 5,000 credits per personnel; 685,000
    • 137 Crew (minus 24 "Department Officers," 1 Wa Ya, 1 Quartermaster, 1 Gunnery Officer, 1 Chef)
• Equipment and Supplies: 100,000 Credits (Standard Fee)
• Fuel: 50,000 Credits (Standard Fee)
• Unforeseen Expenses: 100,000 Credits (Standard Fee)

Any contract came with 4 basic components that, aside from the Base Contract Pay, were non-negotable. Those were the Basic Contract Pay, Equipment and Supplies, Fuel, and Unforeseen Expenses. Any contract started at this basic 1,250,000 price range. Crew prices added to that basic figure. While the Mercs were known to lower their Base Contract Pay as low as 500,000 in certain "charitable" situations, the act was done only when a good cause was there, but not the resources.

So Lasso looked at this basic contract value for Mr. Vortex of 3,655,000 Credits. The man had offered to not only triple their Basic Contract Pay, but the whole contract (including personnel), which raised the total to 10,965,000 Credits. Then, add an additional 3 million for the "rescue" from the villa. So they were looking at 13,965,000 if everything went as planned for the Mercs.

Lasso smiled, sighed as Ulrike took them over a bump that sent Lasso head up into the ceiling and crashing back down. He rubbed his head as he turned off the wrist data-pad and said to Yav as he stuck his head again in between the driver and passenger seat, "Yav, how does thirteen million, nine hundred and sixty-five thousand credits sound to you for this contract? Almost four times the amount from our three million start. Do we dine at the Imperial Palace tomorrow night?" Lasso grinned as he clapped the elf commander on the shoulder, "We're about to be rich!"

A course, like any good mercenary leader, Lasso knew most of the Basic Contract Pay would be soaked back into ship repairs,upgrades, and supplies and fuel the Equipment and Supplies and Fuel Fees didn't cover. And any left over into a small savings account for a rainy day. But that was considering the basic 1 million contract pay. Now, all of sudden, they had a lot more then the basic 1 million contract pay.

It would be nice to not have to run on prayers, duct tape, and good luck to make it from star system to star system looking for work. At least for the immediate future...


TAG Sith-I-5, anyone else!

 

IC: Sydney Ayres
Luck's Gamble

“Chief, if you have the shot, take it.”

Sydney groaned. AT-AT's, the scourge of any armed infantryman, woman, or slug. He'd worked on their predecessor, the AT-TE many moons ago. In fact, he'd worked on so many vehicles that he could probably release an incredible cross-sections of vehicles found in the galaxy for the kiddies and be rich. Hmmm, not a bad idea. Maybe when he found the spare time he should pen his novel. A title whirled into his mind: The Incredible Cross-Sections of the Galaxies Most Terrifying Vehicles. War stories, limb dismemberment, moping comrades in a bar, clean-up on aisle five, yeah, okay, so maybe not children material. He'd think about that later.

"There's only one place to wipe out an AT-AT and that's the neck. That's going to require a high-angle of attack. I'm talking belt yourselves in and prepare for a vertical dive. Ever been weightless, Mary?" Sydney asked, "Best damn feeling in the entire galaxy. Well, maybe not the best, but you catch my drift."

The turbulence threw off his aim as the concussion missiles were armed. It was now or never. He spotted the free-falling AT-AT and grimaced. She was plummeting fast. Very fast. And even though concussion missiles were some of the fastest warheads around, well, they were better fired in space. Less resistance and more chance of success.

"Here we go, Mary. Strap yourself in tight and hold on to whatever you last ate. Should you feel the need to evacuate your insides, please do so into the courtesy bag in front of you. Thank you for flying Sydney Airlines."

He gave Mary a gentle pat on the shoulder with his gloved hand and then gunned the acceleration. The engines on board the Luck's Gamble screamed in protest but Sydney had heard such moaning before. Oh, not in the dark confines of room but in the unholy dwelling of war and death. This was nothing. He knew the lady would hold together. A loud bang, most likely something rattling in the back, made Sydney jump a bit. "Come on baby, hold together," Sydney mumbled as he brought the Luck's Gamble up and above the falling AT-AT.

Ayres looked over at Mary and said, "We'll only have one shot. Making our attack now."

He expertly pushed the controls into a violent descent. Clouds, debris from the Vic-Stars, and the luminous form of the AT-AT dominated Ayres' vision as he focused on that slender vulnerable spot of the Empire's dreaded weapon of choice. He thought of the countless beings below in the spaceport. He thought of all those kids who would never get a chance to read his book. He thought of his obituary and how it would talk about his famous bar fights and all the machines of war that he'd helped design that had killed billions. Yeah, you've got a beautiful story, Sydney. A real beauty.

The HUD went yellow indicating a near lock and then nothing. Yellow, nothing, yellow, nothing. "Frak this thing, you handle like a truck!" Ayres roared as he made gentle corrections to compensate for wind. They were nearly on the AT-AT coming down on its free-falling form at a near 90 degree angle. This was serious. One mistake and they could die. Well, Sydney thought, at least death would be quick.

The HUD roared with a lock, bright green, and boy did the HUD scream a song of beauty.

"Got you you overpriced, bureaucratic, employee killer, piece of s..." Ayres whispered as he squeezed the trigger.

"It's away!" Ayres yelled into the open comm. He didn't care who heard. This was miraculous. This was insane. This was....

He watched the warhead trails slip their way through the atmosphere as he guided the Luck's Gamble away from the AT-AT in a lazy loop.

"Come on, baby, show me your insides!" Ayres taunted as he threw a manic look to Mary.

TAG: Sith-I-5

 

IC: "He" and Alexander Zat
Less fortunate areas, Nar Shaddaa


His foot came across the Stormtrooper's helmet; the Jedi ninja known simply as "He" heard a resulting crack and the white armored Stormtrooper collapsed to the ground by the landspeeder, a clump of 8 other of his squad mates in likewise positions of deaths, as He shut down his crimson lightsaber.

"Remind me," Bonds coughed as Zat walked the injured agent (shot through the shoulder) to the awaiting ship, "To never make you mad."

He simply nodded as he retrieved the body of the Naval Reconnaissance Trooper from the driver's seat; the man was dead, but no evidence could be left behind. A safe distance away, He used the Force to trigger the self-destruct on the landspeeder and watched as the vehicle burst in flaming debris.

In the immediate distance, a Sentinel-class Patrol Craft was sitting on a landing pad, a cloaking field dropping from around her as He and company approached.

"New bit of technology, at least for starships, being used widely. Portable cloak fields. They can only be deployed on the ground, but provide cover when you need them," Bonds explained as he and Zat were helped aboard the ship's waiting on ramp by the 9 remaining Naval Reconnaissance Troopers, whom most of which deployed quickly to cover all angels of the landed Sentinel.

He quickly covered the distance, depositing the body of the dead NRT into the hold of the ship. The defending NRT's outside the ship quickly got aboard and the ramp was still closing as the ship started to lift off and head for an escape.

"That IDT is circling back again," Zat noted from the cockpit as the Sentinel raised above the local roof-tops of residential slums and low end businesses as He joined him, "It must of just finished dropping off the other half of it's load of troopers over there at that public transportation hub. It won't take them long to figure out we don't belong here."

"We'll loose them before they can ID us," said the pilot, "I know a thing or two about that kind of covert thing."

"And them?" Zat asked, pointing out with a hand towards a group of 3 TIE/LNs on patrol above the city---which they started a lazy wide loop downwards towards the city and the Sentinel in specific---that the IDT must of called in for an inspection fly-by when the Captain refused to answer hails, evidence of the blinking comm board wanting urgent attention.

"That Jedi Master Zat," the pilot said with a grin as he glanced back, "Is why we were selected for Royal Command."


TBC

 

IC: Mr Niall, eatery, third level, spaceport passenger terminal
Location: Craci Prime


The pipes businessman had gotten through customs and checking relatively quickly, and repaired up to the third level, where the various coloured signs had indicated where the food places were.

Ms Oshi, his felinoid bodyguard, had been delayed, as she tended to at the higher-quality Imperial spaceports, but every cloud had a silver lining, for it had allowed him to order a bowl of milk for her, along with his own light meal, that had been hand-delivered to the round white table where he now sat, two tables in from the open entrance.

She was a competent guard of his person, but he still liked to see the furred lines on her face tighten when she saw the milk.

A smile touched his mouth, then vanished as he saw the small group of Imperial stormtroopers arrive at the entrance, diminishing the light coming into the place through the glased roof above the wide atrium beyond the balcony.

He did not know what was happening.

The local staff were doing their best to insulate the passengers from any sign of troubles, but he could not escape noticing the broken glass and debris being cleaned up on the ground level, and the concerned glances of the brown-uniformed Security Police.

Mr Niall craned his neck round to gaze at the armoured Imperial soldiers, then looked back into the innards of the restuarant as a young male human grabbed a sheaf of laminated menus and bustled along the carpeted aisle towards the small platoon.

"I don't think they are here for breakfast," he murmured to himself.

"Hello Sirs, would you like a table or a booth at the side, sirs?" The waiter asked, earnestly.

The lead stormtrooper, standing out from the rest due to the black shoulder pauldron attached to his armour, regarded the worker a moment. "What the frak are you people still doing here?"

Niall raised an eyebrow. Oddly blunt question.

"Excuse me?" The worker looked in curiousity at the taller trooper. "What do you mean, still?"

"There has been a frakking firefight literally one floor above you."

"Uh," Niall volunteered when he felt the trooper's gaze alight on him, "we were told there was a cinema on the next level, with a loud action holo-"

"And you bought tha-" The stormtrooper stopped and kissed his teeth, which sounded very odd coming out of a stormtrooper helmet speaker, and waved an arm at the seated patrons, "Get out of here."

"I'll get the bills"

A firefight? Well that explained the cracks in the ceiling and little bits of whatever had splashed down into Oshi's milk. She'd never shown the slightest inclination to drink any of the bowls he had purchased her at earlier stopovers, so he hadn't bothered picking any of it out.

Ah, talk of the Defel, his wristcom bleeped, and her voice came through: "Mr Niall, Oshi here, what’s your status?"

He could hear a commotion in the background, but instead of responding, he busied himself spreading some of the meat and beans onto the sliced of buttered bread to make a sandwich to go.

"Gentlebeings, we need to move you out," the waiter's voice called, "A security situation has arisen..."

"Sir if hear this, the terminal is evacuating, head to my location, move quickly."

Evacuating?

Niall stood slowly from the table, pressing the 'respond' key on his comlink. "Ms Oshi, I am on the way." Red sauce trickled unnoticed down his chin as he stuffed the sandwich into his maw and joined the rush of beings to the entrance.

Getting to the queue for the stairs going down for the atrium, he could see a pair of Espos down there, one with a loudhailer, ordering staff with their own transport to to get to them, and those, plus passengers, to repair to the customs processing area he had just passed through, where a bus was waiting.

On reaching the ground floor, he moved in and out of the crowd that was feeding back into that area of the building, packing the double doorway back several metres ahead of him.

"Fire in the hole!"

Several people ducked around Niall at the muffled sound of an explosion back up on the third level, followed by the sound of avalanching rubble.

The businessman, used to making the most of opportunities, used this one to push to the head of the queue, go through the doorway, and run up to his Cathar employee.

"Miss Oshi." He smiled at her. "Miss me?"

Tag: Jedi_padawan_leigh

 

IC: Commandant-General Zero
Bridge, Victory II-class Star Destroyer Perplexity, orbit above Craci Prime


Things were wrapping up. With the Imperial Army landing, it would only be a matter of time before Hilick Soal's masterful plan to take over Craci Prime right out from the noses of the Corporate Sector would be fulfilled. It would allow Soal to position a strong Imperial presence in the Corporate Sector, but it would also start to expose Rebel cells around the Outer Rim and thus fulfill his mission objective to Imperial Center of wiping out the Rebellion and any others who stood in the Empire's way. If Darth Vader was tasked with finding and destroying the Rebellion leadership, Hilick Soal was tasked with tying up the loose ends of Vader's operation. Which suited Hilick Soal just fine to play second fiddle. Because Craci Prime also fulfilled Soal's personal goal of moving his operation off of Craci Prime, while masking it with a creditable Rebellion threat on the planet that he started, but could not be traced back to Hilick Soal. So, Hilick Soal was able to expand the Imperial military's span of operations against the Rebellion on a political front---which made the Emperor happy to silent critics of his government---secure the illusion that the Rebellion was resorting to suicide bombings in a civilian hospital and other less morale means such as destroying a Corporate Sector VicStar and having it's remains rain down on a civilian population (while the Empire was viewed as trying to stop the debris the best they could), secured the Empire a vital means of operations against the Rebellion in the Outer Rim, and was able to completely remove his traitorous operation off of Craci Prime without anyone knowing it aside from Commander Top, Admiral Dab, and Zero himself.

And now, all in one night, Hilick Soal was in a position to be the Empire's greatest hero and it's drumbeat to it's own destruction. He would have near unquestioned support within the Imperial Court and except for Zero and Vader, would be viewed as a hero of the Empire and the Emperor's new loyal poster boy soldier for the highly elite and rich of the New Order.

Masterful. Simply masterful.

But, Zero also knew something that Hilick Soal did not. And the Commandant-General smiled as the Prowler 1000 exploration droid took one last long look at the two retreating forms of the Stormtroopers from the dust covered Jedi.

Zero had the success to Hilick Soal's plan: to create disloyalty and distrust within the Stormtrooper Corps, a feat which---years ago---would of seemed impossible to even think of. But now, Zero had the single tool Hilick Soal needed and didn't have to create his own army to do so in. All Zero would have to do was stroke that fire a little bit in these two Stormtroopers. Find their unit, give them the resources and intelligence necessary, and let them work, all the while being behind the shadows.

Soon Hilick Soal would see Zero's value and soon, very soon, rewards would be coming his way. But Zero wanted more then that, especially when Hilick Soal's dream of the Empire's destruction came to be.

Power to control the galaxy was not Zero's aim. His aim was simply to control those already in power, to turn his desires into their decisions.

But for now, Zero would dangle the Stormtroopers in front of Hilick Soal like a carrot in front of a rabbit. But would keep the knowledge of Jason Lasso to himself as an insurance policy for future use.


TBC

 

IC: Cargo Freighter Captain Duel Hutch
Worker's Rest, Lormar-class Refinery Station Chorlian Express high orbit over Type IV Atmosphere planet; for-profit, small business owned Class VI Bulk Freighter Dark Star docked; near Zygerria System


Like everything else out here, in the deadness of space, the Chorlian Express was located over a dead planet in a equally dead star system. Aside from a sun in the system, the half dozen planets and moons in the system were barren rocks. Remnants of an ancient civilization rested on one of the planets closer in to the star system; it had seemed that, at some point, that planet had a Type I Atmosphere. But something happened. Duel Hutch and a few of his crew had surveyed the planet some years ago, finding combustion-driven vehicles and primitive space-flying aircraft capable of inner system flight, but in the context of the crew being asleep because of the lack of strong space engines and hyperdrive technology. Whatever the case may be, skeleton metal cities and barren natural landscapes that once held forests, deserts, and plains was all that remained in the now toxic atmosphere that required breath masks to survive on. Duel never gave much thought as to why the planet was as such and even the nearby civilized planet of Zygerria had little interest in the ruins. The only interest takers were passing through treasure hunters, scavengers, and occasional pirate gangs who lay in wait for exploration teams and ambush them.

But one day, a few months ago, the pirates disappeared. While Hutch would like to believe it was because of the strong constitutions of the brave Imperial soldiers based on the Imperial Prefabricated Garrison Base on Zygerria, the truth of the matter was, that base had been there since the end of the Clone Wars. And the rag-tag rust-filled Imperial fleet over Zygerria, consisting of 1Dreadnaught-class Heavy Cruiser that was in surprisingly good operating condition considering the planet's other Imperial warships---3 Munifex-class Light Cruisers, 1 Invincible-class Dreadnaught Heavy Cruiser, and 2 Neutron Star-class Bulk Cruisers held together by duct tape and bubble gum---were no threat to anyone, except for falling out of orbit due to a lack of repair and maintenance funds from Imperial Center. Duel Hutch couldn't figure out why pirates would be afraid of a few back-water Imperial warships with enough age to make rust look new and then, suddenly, simply leave a system that had produced them good profit for years. But Hutch didn't give that much thought either, since he didn't know the inner workings of pirate politics. Maybe the pirates simply moved on to avoid being attacked? Hutch didn't know and didn't care.

So now, the only thing in, as officially classified Star System CS-1-34-Z, was the Refinery Station. It had made a profit over the decades, protected a squadron of corporate-hired mercenary starfighter pilots and defense weaponry that kept the pirates---and now nothing but space rocks and floating debris---at bay.

But in a certain sense Hutch didn't mind the quietness. It was nice, quiet, and good business for his small company. He had bought the Dark Star from a junk dealer at a good bargain for a ship her age many years ago. Upgraded her engines, hyperdrive, reactor core, and electrical systems over the years when credits came in and had scrapped the laser cannon in favor of a single dual H9 Turbolaser where the laser cannon had gone in the aft just above the engines; four AG-2G Quad Laser Cannons, which he placed two dorsal and two ventral on both the port and starboard rear bulges near the engines, and two single H9 Turbolasers, one dorsal and one ventral, on the forward bow "hammer head". He had further added a tractor beam projector to the bow and had replaced one of the cargo holds with a small hanger capable of holding a single Sheathipede-class Transport Shuttle he had found in an old Clone Wars wreckage about a decade ago and had restored the shuttle, adding a hyperdrive, extra fuel pods for range, upgraded the reactor core and engines, and added two under the cockpit mounted laser cannons.

Hutch didn't mind his small business; he made a good profit operating out here in the Rim and despite his ship being held together by duct tape and prayer most of the time, he was happy. Maybe not jumping up in joy in profit, but he was happy that he was master and commander of his own fate and not some lowly pee-on of a larger corporation. Granted, most of his crew was running from something or someone, but as long as they did their jobs, Hutch didn't ask questions. He had his own past and didn't care for people asking him about it. So he didn't ask others about theirs.

"Captain! Captain!" came the new engeragtic kid he had hired; some young wide-eyed human kid from Tatooine with red hair. Said he wanted to see the galaxy. Hutch had laughed at that, telling the kid to go home. But when the kid wouldn't leave him alone at port on Tatooine for days and after one of his crew members was found dead in a cantina after a bar fight gone wrong, Hutch took the kid on since he was down a crew member. Despite still being wet behind the ears, the seventeen year old learned quick enough to keep his bunk on the Dark Star the last few months. Although Hutch wished he would stop being so talkative and learn to shut up.

"Kid!" Hutch warned, calming the kid who had just ran through the bar known as the Worker's Rest from outside, with tried patience, "You need to quiet down!"

The other spacers in the bar returned to their business with a few choice words and grumbles about youth after being disrupted in the bar.

The human kid was stumbling over his words before he finally got something out that sounded remotely like Basic, "Craci Prime is under Imperial Blockade!"

"I know," Hutch said---as he reclined in a chair at a table, his feet up on the table with a cigar in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other---and pointed a finger ahead to the holoscreen on the wall, "Been watching the news."

The young kid followed the man's finger and then looked back to Hutch with a sheepish look, "Oh."

"You'll learn kid," Hutch reassured the youngster, "We ain't going anywhere for a while until that mess is cleared up. The Empire isn't letting anyone into the Craci System and the Espos have all the other hyperspace lanes and local space traffic lanes going around the Craci System backed up with security check-points. This ore is important to our buyers in the Corporate Sector, but it ain't worth me wasting fuel as we wait in space traffic. I've already contacted our buyers and they know we'll be late. Luckily, its one of our normal customers, so they understand what's going on with this so-called 'Craci Crisis'. So get some breakfast in you kid and relax. We have nothing but time on our hands."


TBC

 

OOC: I folded my response into my pre-existing Lasso/Yav/Ulrike post.

IC: Yavscout, Ulrike, Argath Space Noodle’s hovervan
Location: Craci Prime, suburban streets


Yavscout ignored the open passenger door in favour of leaning his elbows on the short engine cowling in front of the drivers’ compartment, his E-11 jumping slightly in his grip as he popped covering fire towards the distant Imperial Army troopers running towards them down the alleyway.

One caught a bolt in the chest, and despite his armour, fell backwards to lay still on the rubbish-strewn alley floor, while two of his mates sought cover at the sides.

“Jase, get onboard.” Yav instructed, prompting the Corellian to jump into the back through the side door.

Yav put up his weapon, and waiting a couple seconds for what he deemed the right moment, curved round the open door and jumped in beside Ulrike, slamming the door shut.

He immediately jerked back in the seat as the nurse pulled on the noisy gear lever, pushing the vehicle forward down the road as Imperial troops started to spread over the roads and streets like a virus.

“Where are we going?” She turned the wheel sharply to the right as a low repulsortank nosed out of a road to their left, a powerful laser bolt zaashing past the left side, as the centrifugal force caused her to slide across the seat to press up against the elf, sandwiching his head against the window.

“Well, this is cosy.” Yav managed to squeeze out.

“Sorry.”

Both Mercs straightened as the vehicle did, Ulrike barrelling the hovervan down the alley, crushing packing boxes, or tearing them open.

“What is this, garbage collection day, or what?” Ulrike griped, glaring ahead. “It’s like everyone in the city took delivery of flatpack furniture the week before we arrived.”

Lasso was checking his wristlink behind them, which bleeped to announce an incoming message.

“Quagmire from Live Free. We copy. Please be advised, Luck’s Gamble is on a CSA-requested fire mission to stop an airborne AT-AT smashing the spaceport. Is that the day that is now night?”

"Live Free, Quagmire. Continue on mission for CSA. Try to mix in well, then book it off the grid. Pick up the Security Chief and company on your way. Head for Safe Zone Two-Two-A and start to gather equipment and plan for Mission Varsity; alert me once your all ready to go. Stay low and keep out of sight. We'll meet you there after a short detour to pick up Mr. Vortex. Quagmire out,"

The nurse frowned at the unrecognised "Mr Vortex" name.

Lasso leaned up in between the driver and passenger seat as he checked his blaster for ammo, "Ulrike, get us to the CSA Governmental Complex, some blocks from it. We need to do some recon work. and meet up with Dak."

"Yes Sir." She aknowledged.

“Dak is at Lawrence and 5th.” Yav advised, having overheard Lasso earlier.

The craft turned onto and raced down the another arterial road, the signposted alleys, or smaller roads branching off to the east and west flashing past, 22nd, 21st, 20th-

“Okay, so 5th is going to be South, possibly past Craci Regional.”

Another laser bolt exploded something behind them, debris raining down and skittering loudly across the roof above them.

The road opened up into a much wider area, showing piles of rubble and a partially collapsed apartment complex.

There was a mob of angry civilians surrounding one of the larger piles of brick, menacing a lone person in the black uniform and helmet of a TIE pilot. He was waving a holdout blaster at the crowd.

Yavscout blinked. “Guys, drop me off here. I’ll catch you up.”

Lasso stuck his head again in between the driver and passenger seat, "Yav, how does thirteen million, nine hundred and sixty-five thousand credits sound to you for this contract? Almost four times the amount from our three million start."

Though the potential payment was a welcome amount, elf's lips thinned with regret. When he had joined the Mercs full-time, he had had to make peace with himself, and accept that a contract took full priority over any rescue.

"Do we dine at the Imperial Palace tomorrow night?" Lasso grinned as he clapped the elf commander on the shoulder, "We're about to be rich!"

"Okay, never mind. Sorry, Boras, you are on your own."

"Boras?" Ulrike echoed in surprised tones. She pulled on the steering wheel sharply, wheeling the van to a halt, so they were facing back into the alley that they had just emerged from.

Yavscout sensed that she recognised the name, but took the moment to roll the window down, calling to the lynch mob. "I say, hello! You have someone trapped under that pile over there where that Togruta is." He hurriedly wound the window back up, looking back at the nurse, "Thanks. Alright, let's go."

Tag: Bravo, greyjedi125

 

IC: Mahaben
Ruined apartment complex, near ‘Downtown’ Craci

He could feel the shift through the Force and in his years of living, already knew that such shifts were temporary, especially concerning beings such as the Mercs.

Although ‘danger’ was still a condition he now realized would likely always be with them, he now noted this condition varied in degrees. As he stood still for a moment upon the broken roof, his dusty head cocked to one side, the blind miraluka ‘listened’ to the currents of the force and noted that the danger around Captain Lasso had lessened, at least for the moment. He also seemed to be i the company of beings familiar to him. The same seemed to be true for the mechanic, Ayres.

Generally, that was considered a good thing. At least the last time he’d checked. These days however, one could never be to sure.

The impressions he managed to get from the other -less familiar mercs- came in faintly at best, and were inconclusive. He would need more time to focus on them if he wished to find out more, but that was time he simply did not have to spare at the moment.

Mahaben shifted his focus to another merc he already knew was trapped in the area. Once again he trusted implicitly in the force to guide him. Only others who inherently possessed such a strong connection to the force could understand such wonders. Where others without the force relied on technological devices to gather ‘intelligence’, force sensitives were allowed access to a greater and far more accurate information network-where one’s own biological sensory system was enhanced to incredible effects, coupled with focused and disciplined reasoning in addition to enhanced intuition. The sheer efficacy of such connectivity was without equal, and like all gifts bestowed by the universe, such a gift could be utilized for either good or ill- and not without consequence.

Mere words could not convey such an experience, nor did they often need to. In the end, it was results that mattered.

The ex-jedi swiveled his head and zeroed in on a now familiar feeling. He now knew exactly where Boras was located, trapped and buried as he was. Another ‘glance’ also revealed the presence of stormtroopers spilling into the area, rounding up ‘rebellious elements’. Seeing the man in white armor briefly brought to mind the stormtrooper he had just confronted a moment ago.

For Kid.

Mahaben shook his head at that and did not allow himself to be distracted. He’d been allowed a momentary reprieve from all the intrigue the day had to offer and he was not about to squander it. Silently as his force truing allowed him, the ex-jedi jumped down from the broken rooftop and made it to ground level. He’d dawn no attention to himself. So far so good.

The now dusty ex-jedi shook his head and smiled wearily. A few hours ago he would have never imagined he’d be sneaking around like this, but there was little he could do about it now. Set on rescuing the selkath, Mahaben went about the business of avoiding detection as he made his way closer to where the merc lay trapped. Thankfully, the stormtroopers were quite busy chasing down the ‘rebel elements’ and thus were quite susceptible to the jedi mind trick. Speed, stealth and the force served their purpose quite well as Mahaben finally made it to selkath location.

Going around the angry mob menacing what looked like an imperial pilot had been helpful, though he did find the role reversal to be quite an ironic display.

As he drew near, he noticed a lone female togruta standing right at the spot where Boras was trapped beneath the mass of rubble. It took him a split second to recognize her as one of the ‘reporters’ he’d spied at Craci Reginal Medical Center.

Choose and act.

With a subtle wave of a hand, the former Jedi called on his empathic abilities and directed them at the togruta. He did not relish manipulating things in this manner, but time was of the essence and he found himself with limited choices.

{{This was a battle ground, where danger, casualties and death were very real. Anything could happen, to anyone. The stormtroopers were taking all non-military personal away as ‘rebel elements’ and asking questions later. ‘Rebel elements’ were much too likely to wound strangers…and the environment was no better, what with falling buildings and airborne debris still falling from the sky. Perhaps it was better to seek shelter, at least for the moment. }}

The woman’s hesitation began to show in her face and after a moment, she moved out of sight, much to the ex-jedi’s satisfaction. The togruta’s will and self-possession were quite strong and admirable, but Mahaben was not attempting to subvert them. He simply wanted to ‘nudge’ her away from the spot. It was a ‘temporary’ solution, but at least one that sufficed.

Finally…the coast was now clear and no better window would be offered.

Mahaben could see the selkath aura quite clearly. Boras was alive and conscious, though somewhat battered. He was a lot more fortunate than most, given the circumstances. Without hesitating another moment, the blind miraluka gestured and called upon his considerable skills in telekinesis and levitation. For this, he needed to be careful…one falls move and…well, best not think about that.

The larger pieces of rubble and debris rumbled in response to the ex-jedi’s telekinetic manipulation, almost as if protesting his efforts, but Mahaben managed to finesse the process in order to silence them. Slowly and surely, the rocks trapping Boras began to lift.

Somewhere above the ex-jedi’s location, a hovervan marked Argath Space Noodles flew over.

“Boras, are you able to come out….?” Mahaben inquired.

[Halt! What are you doing?]

If Mahaben had eyes to roll, he would have done just that. He didn’t have to turn around to know who had spoken. It was a single stormtrooper, and a lone novice from the sound of it.

[Put your hands up where I can see them!] The trooper barked at him. Mahaben could hear the white armored man level his weapon at his back.

“Shush! Can’t you see I’m concentrating?” the ex-jedi called back.

Silence.

It seemed the shell head had not taken careful stock of the situation. Mahaben smiled as he sensed the troopers abject surprise and sudden confusion. It became clear that he had never seen such a thing before. The tall rocks of debris he was looking at were actually floating in mid-air.

[You! you’re….you’re a Jedi!!?] The trooper finally managed to blurt out his surprise as fear and wonder washed all over him, his hands gripping his weapon tighter now.

“Not likely.” Mahaben answered calmly. “They’re all dead. Didn’t they tell you?”

Off to the side and out of sight a heavy rock began to rise ever so slowly as it silently aligned itself in a direct trajectory to the troopers head.

[I said raise your hands where I can see them!] the trooper ordered, anger, fear and uncertainty now fueling his decisions. Mahaben was curious as to what stories he’d been told to have him react in such a manner. Of course, he slowly complied with the order, but the rocks remained aloft.

[Stop whatever you’re doing!]

“If I do, then the selkath underneath the rubble will surely die. His blood will be on your hands.”

[Shut it and stop whatever you’re doing, or I’ll shoot! Do it now.]

The rock off to the side began to spin rapidly on its axis as it was charged with kinetic force and momentum.

A subtle ripple in the Force suffused their surrounding, one that Mahaben felt and understood.

“Hmmm. I don’t think your new friends would like it if you did that.”

Behind the stormtrooper, a number of voices could be heard. Voices belonging to a growing number of sentients fresh off from dealing with the lone pilot.

“What togruta? I don’t see any here….”

“No, he said there was someone trapped under a pile of rubble!”

“Look there!! it’s a frakking trooper!!”

“GET HIM!!!”

The scene that followed was-unfortunately- the natural result of pre-ordained conflict. Those involved were mere pawns in the tableau of war, following without question what they believed to be their own choices. The lone trooper was outnumbered and his inexperience would doom him, just as his masters all too willingly sacrificed him for their cause.

Such senseless violence pained the ex-jedi, but the galaxy had been tricked to embrace such foolishness. There was little he could do here without adding to the already considerable dark ripples drowning the planet.

Off to the side, the spinning rock fell, once again becoming dead weight, and now gesturing more decisively, Mahaben shoved the larger rocks aside and set them down, finally freeing Boras from his confinement. Leaning forward and stretching forth his hand, Mahaben reached out for the selkath.

“We have to go my friend. It’s not safe here.”


Tag: @Master Selkath, @Sith-I-5, @Intervention

 

IC: Boras Felroah
Ruined Buildings, near ‘Downtown’ Craci

Boras kept yelling out that he was down in the debris but as the air thickened more and more his shouts became weaker. He began coughing as he would inhale the smoke in the air when he went to breath. Boras knew though that he had to keep yelling out or he would die down here. He could see through the small crack in the metal, light that was most likely illuminated by the fires outside but that gave him just enough to see himself.

The old medic was still shouting out but he was beginning to lose hope. It was unlikely that anyone could hear him, let alone try to help if they did. The air got even thicker and now he felt lightheaded. He was starting to choke on the air very slowly and his eyes slowly started to close in defeat.

Boras then thought to himself, Is this the end, is this how I die by choking on smoke under a pile of debris?

He felt like it was his time but for some reason he still kept screaming. It was as if his heart told him one thing and his brain told him another. He felt a new emotion that he never enjoyed but it gave him the push he needed, anger. The memory of his son's death and the shiny white armor of the Imperial hordes marching on every world it was on made him feel that he still had things to do in this galaxy.

Boras doubled his efforts and after a minute he heard above him, "Hello? Hello? Can you hear me?"

The old man was overcome with thankfulness at the sound of that voice. It was as if a higher power decided that today wasn't the day that he was to leave this plain of existence. Though he didn't know if this person could get him out, they could at least try something.

Boras with all of his remaining strength shouted out "Yes I'm down here, can you see me at all?"

All he heard was footsteps going away from where he was and then a rumble. He felt the weight that was on top of him lighten alittle and Boras realized that somone was moving the debris away. He then heard a familier voice telling him “Boras, are you able to come out….?”

He was going to answer but he then heard another voice, it sounded like a trooper. Mahaben sounded like he was dealing with the trooper and more of the debris lifted. The trooper sounded younger or just newer than the average, he couldn't tell though it didn't really matter. He was like most of the Imperial troops who were taught to follow orders to the end, those fools. The last bit of debris on top of him was lifted and he could breath again. He saw the trooper being attacked by a group and he for some reason felt sad for the poor soul but it was inevitable. Mahaben looked at Boras, held out his hand and had said to him “We have to go my friend. It’s not safe here.”

Boras grabbed his hand, got to his feet and replied with "I agree and thank you for coming back for me my good man."


Tag: greyjedi125, Sith-I-5, Intervention

 

OOG:

Grey and Selkath, you two can assume Lasso or Yav' has made contact with you and you can make your way to the hiding digs below in this post.


IC: Captain Jason Lasso
Nearing the CSA Governmental Complex, Craci Prime


Although Lasso wouldn't of known this personally, as the view from the Imperial Commanders was concerned, things were coming under control. First and foremost, the debris from the destroyed VicStar were now reduced to fragments here and there that were---for the most part---becoming dismantled in the decent through the planet's atmosphere. What debris did survive that fiery decent was being mopped up by TIE patrols and the Imperial Base's own turbolasers. With that said, the Imperial base itself was mostly contained with Imperial commanders declaring victory, despite small pockets of resistance here and there left in the base and around the base. But for the most part, the Stormtroopers had the base back in their control, if not in their sole custody just yet.

All of that sounded well and good. Except, their was one minor problem. The capital city was still filled with "for the Colonel" nut jobs and their once focused attacks---mainly the Imperial base---had since dissolved into independent gangs of armed gunmen bent on destruction of anything CSA or Imperial. While, at initial glance, this should be a positive for Imperial commanders, it in fact turned out to be a negative. While a handful of coordinated attacks against law enforcement stations, public works buildings such as the water and power plants, were still flooding the communications net, the majority of the armed gunmen seemed to be disorganized without a main leadership body. This little bit of information, however, did not filter down to the Craci Prime citizens, many of whom had given into the spirited night of chaos and had turned into rioters, many of whom were now armed. If they couldn't win the city through military action, the "for the Colonel" soldiers were determined to win over the local populace, whom had turned into large scale rioting. Now armed enemy threats were mixed in and hidden within large rioting groups, making Imperial forces' goal of controlling their objectives even harder, as now civilians---now rioters---had to be considered a threat to the stability of Craci Prime if they were working with the Colonel's soldiers.

Either way, the once defined enemy units were now not so well defined with once civilians turned armed rioters and innocents still mixed in with it all. Now, it seemed, the Colonel's soldiers had the perfect cover. With the Colonel's soldiers fueling the public's anger at the destruction of their city by pointing out that the landing Imperial Army wasn't here to restore order but to invade them and control them, it made things all the worse. Now, Imperial Army units were battling armed Colonel-allied soldiers, controlling hostile rioter groups, and trying to keep the innocent from being harmed. To the naked eye, it looked like chaos and, as the Mercs weaved in and out of the chaos unfolding on the streets, the Mercs were able to see that what the Imperial Commanders saw as a military victory was very quickly turning into a public relations nightmare for the Empire to try to control.

As the hovervan sped by, Lasso looked out the front window as they tried to avoid a turned over and burning Strikebreaker Riot Control Vehicle, with several Espos' bodies thrown throughout the street, while another small group of surviving Espos were put up against a wall and freed from their weapons and equipment from a group of college-age rioter who burden themselves with the acquired equipment. Further down the road, a large group of Espos were forcing their way down the street, spread out like a mass mob with three Strikebreakers in rear support, as they marched down the street, trying to curb the violence. Two Stormtrooper squads seemed to be mixed in with the Espos, providing Imperial muscle in the mission.

As the Mercs took another side road, passing back alley shops being broken into and looted by rioters who took the chaos to do some free shopping, the Mercs emerged onto another street, passing by a desperately out numbered Espo platoon trying to stop rioters along a busy stretch of roadway as they looted shops full on, often times engaging and battling Espos amidst smoke grenades and tear gas for control over holo units, then came back onto the street they were all previously, a armed Espo blockade in their rear view mirror as it defended the larger Espo group supported by Stormtroopers trying to retake a section of the city.

"We must be getting close to the Governmental Complex," Lasso said out-loud, "The Espos are fighting for every building down here," the Mercs passed a old battle ground where the dead and wounded remnants of rioters, Colonel's soldiers, and Espos lay scattered about with a gutted and burning Espo Walker 91 taking up the road; getting past the forgotten battlefield, Lasso pointed as he saw Dak, "Up here Ulrike, follow Dak into that private garage here."


*************************


Ten minutes later...


Dak had found a privately owned condo complex that was more like a party pad for the highly rich. Whoever it belonged to had long gone since the fighting and the place was complete with it's own privately concealed garage where their hovervan now sat. At the moment, the group of Mercs sat in one of the "modern" decorated living room complete with glass tables, wave-like chairs, and enough entertainment, couches, and alcohol to give anyone a sense of welcome and relaxation. On terms of space, the living room was on the fifteen floor and the size of a full apartment, complete with a drink and snack bar, game tables, two refreshers, and even a small pond / waterfall fixture in the middle of the floor. The garage and van were on the first floor and a lobby area / greeting area was below them on the fourteen floor, accessed by a turbolift by the first floor; between the 2nd and thirteen floors were other private condos. This particular condo was further decked out with all the walls being privacy proof windows, meaning one could look out, but no one could look in. Windy staircases connected each floor and above them was the residential floor, complete with bedrooms, refreshers, a private gym, a kitchen, and a dinning room; above that was a storage floor and the roof.

By now, the white couches were looking dirty with the Mercs spread out over them and the black furniture had more of a brown smear to them by the same Mercs who dirtied those up.

Lasso for his part was enjoying him quite happily, eating some local fruit delicacies and a glass of ice cold water that was some of the cleanest water he had ever had, anywhere; it was clean, crisp, and cold. All the while the mercenary Captain was doing his job was surveying the Governmental Complex. Dak had already introduced Tech Specialists Ronnie the Xexto, Herdferd the Toong, and Otter the Nosaurian; the three aliens were already busy, working off of stolen CSA Laptops around one of the square glass tables surrounded by high weird curved chairs; the laptops had been stolen from a crashed Espo law enforcement building down the street that had been abandoned due to the damage and body count piling up around it; the laptops were top of the line military grade and were locked up in the armory, where the resistance fighters had tried to get into, but couldn't. Dak, however, had a certain magic about breaking into places no one wanted him to be. And, along with many weapons, equipment and supplies, Dak and his three new friends had set up shop. The advantage of this particular location was the height and it's location, directly across from the CSA Governmental Complex.

"Well," Lasso said, lowering the TD2.3's Dak and company had stolen from the armory and turning to face the group, "Looks like there was some activity along the roadway earlier, maybe late at night, by the burned out vehicles and that burned side of that wall. But it looks like the Espos have since reinforced and that energy shield is going to complicate things, because we'll be prohibited from doing an air insertion. So, anything we do will have to be a ground insertion in open view. My one troubling thought is," Lasso said as he took a sip of his cold water and put it back down on the nearby table stand, "Is that these Espos look remarkably calm for an Imperial special operations unit inside their complex. I see no Espos surrounding any of those buildings, preventing an escape, only patrols preventing someone from entering. So, the question is, why?

"Why do you insert an Imperial special operations unit to capture or take out high level CSA exces, assuming that Mr. Vortex's story is true, but yet leave them there to face the wraith of the Espos once their presence is known? The political fallout of an Imperial special commandos team taking out CSA exces could be more damaging them Darth Vader saying he supports the Rebel Alliance. So, what are your thoughts everyone? Remember, Mr. Vortex said he has been shot, but is alive. We have no intell on our other target for Mr. Vortex. Vortex said he is in a safe room. But it appears that the Imperials are almost waiting for someone else to come in after him, almost like their defending him. Safe room or not, whatever Spec Ops unit got into that complex is more then capable of getting into a safe room. So why are they stalling for time with the sun rising? What is their mission objective? And why are they allowing Mr. Vortex to survive with a working comlink? Thoughts?"

Lasso had his own answers, but he wanted to see what everyone else thought.



TAG Sith-I-5, Vehn, greyjedi125, Master Selkath

 

IC: Commander Yavscout, Nurse Ulrike, commandeered rich being's flat
Location: Craci Prime


With Lasso hogging the team's only binoculars - Ulrike had apparently dropped hers during the self-incited TIE attack when locked onto the the roof of that Torus building - Yav had reluctantly paged through his mental spellbook to see if he had some long-forgotten Sight spell that would allow him to see the distance across to the CSA Government Complex.

The nurse had checked everyone over for injuries, applying bacta salve to bruises and abrasions, her grumblings about the purchased medicines she had been forced to abandon at the spaceport, abruptly segueing into an excited squeeing when one of Dak's new friends had reported finding a shower with actual running water!

She'd moved faster than himself getting out of Warslik Woods!

Yav had found diddly squat on the Sight front, and was now standing before a glase-doored condenser unit, watching a flattened circle of white dough, sprinkled with meats and vegetables, slowly revolving.

"Well," Lasso said from the window behind him, "Looks like there was some activity along the roadway earlier, maybe late at night, by the burned out vehicles and that burned side of that wall. But it looks like the Espos have since reinforced and that energy shield is going to complicate things, because we'll be prohibited from doing an air insertion. So, anything we do will have to be a ground insertion in open view. My one troubling thought is," Lasso said as he took a sip of his cold water and put it back down on the nearby table stand, "Is that these Espos look remarkably calm for an Imperial special operations unit inside their complex. I see no Espos surrounding any of those buildings, preventing an escape, only patrols preventing someone from entering. So, the question is, why?

"Why do you insert an Imperial special operations unit to capture or take out high level CSA exces, assuming that Mr. Vortex's story is true, but yet leave them there to face the wrath of the Espos once their presence is known? The political fallout of an Imperial special commandos team taking out CSA exces could be more damaging than Darth Vader saying he supports the Rebel Alliance. So, what are your thoughts everyone? Remember, Mr. Vortex said he has been shot, but is alive. We have no intell on our other target for Mr. Vortex. Vortex said he is in a safe room. But it appears that the Imperials are almost waiting for someone else to come in after him, almost like their defending him. Safe room or not, whatever Spec Ops unit got into that complex is more then capable of getting into a safe room. So why are they stalling for time with the sun rising? What is their mission objective? And why are they allowing Mr. Vortex to survive with a working comlink? Thoughts?"

The elf, by now, had turned to face his captain across the apartment-sized room, over the heads of the three techs at their glass table. "How in Oseon does this Mister Vortex know that it is an Imperial special ops' team? Is he a closet afficianado of unit patches, and recognised one on a commando's uniform?"

"He's probably just saying that." Ulrike's voice interjected from Yav's left.

He glanced towards her to find her still wet from the shower, only a thick cerulean blue bath towel wrapped around her still-wet form like a shoulderless frock, and rubbing vigourously at her blonde trestles with a smaller towel of the same colour, as she surveyed the dirt smeared couches, probably looking for somewhere to sit while she dried off.

"We wouldn't have turned up if he'd said, 'the Icecapades."

"He tripled the contract, remember." Yav reminded her, wagging an index finger in her direction like a gun. "We'd have come."

"I don't like this inference that the Imps are 'waiting for someone else to come in after him." Ulrike continued, padding barefoot to one of the wavy chairs, sitting and crossing her legs to preserve her modesty. "They generally don't lay ground for another team, unless it is a capture op, like with Jedi. Keep them contained till Vader shows up. If they're here to wax this dude, then the only people they could possibly be waiting on, is Vortex' support team. Us."

"Ah sith. Probing with fire." Yav looked towards Lasso. The captain might know the military term, but he explained it anyway. "It's, it's an anti-sniper technique, particularly in jungles, or environments where the sniper is concealed. You shoot randomly in their general direction, with the intention of noting where the return fire comes from. Then you blast the sith out of it."

He called towards the techs. "Hey, new guys. You are Mercs now; your opinions count."

Tag: Bravo