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

IC: Aidan Dodd
Blood Moon, GL Pad, Algor - Cronese Mandate.

I was reassured, not that I needed much anyway, given that no one could have predicted our arrival here and 'Passepartout' had pronounced us clean of tracking devices, by the fact that only a single Lambda-class Shuttle came in for a landing on a relatively distant part of the base. Had the ImpStar's arrival been anything to do with us, multiple, heavily armed, Shuttles would have set down all around our pad and been accompanied by a swarm of TIE fighters into the bargain.

Due to the incoming Shuttle's landing pad being at a higher elevation than our own, I couldn't see who (or what) the passenger or passengers were. No TIE fighter escort from orbit to destination, though, pointed to someone of only semi-VIP status, if that. Palpatine, Vader, any member of the Imperial 'Inner Circle', Cronal, or any of the other members of the Ubiqtorate would have got the full treatment, as would an Admiral or Moff. As things stand, the occupant(s) could simply have been one or more of the Ship's Senior Officers. Lambda Shuttles (affectionately nicknamed 'Lambs') are just that commonly used in the transport role.

I note Vacks is arming himself for an excursion and, given his implied eagerness to eliminate the entire complement of his 'target' space station by proxy (me!), I can't suppress the thought that he's been over-tempted to take advantage of both the new situation and his equally new Official ID go on a killing-spree! My reaction to that suspicion must have shown on my face, as he said;

"What?.... Commander Gold is on a special undercover assignment for the Navy, assessing the combat readiness of the AADM. This outfit will allow me to slip in and out of places without drawing attention as a uniform would and, with the undercover bit, allow me to be passable even by Stormtrooper standards. Just have your droid, Passepartout, give some quick forged orders from the local Moff."

"Unfortunately, Terrel, it's not quite as straightforward as that. Hastily forged orders are more than likely to get you a one-way ticket to a Detention Cell and a full Imperial interrogation.... If you fancy that outcome? Neither 'Passepartout' nor I know as much as the Local Moff's name, let alone the personal verification codes he'd be certain to embed in those somewhere; they'd be spotted as forgeries at any level beyond a most casual check - and no checks are going to be that cursory right now.... you saw the reaction when that leviathan was reported heading in! Additionally, this is a Military facility; they're normally well proofed against remote access, reason.... Rebel Slicers trying to do exactly what you've suggested! Civilian facilities don't have that level of 'Hardening'.

Anyway, as a plan it's overcomplicated.... Always strive for simplicity! Which, in my professional opinion as an Operative means 'call them up and ask'! They think they know what I am, if not quite all of it, and not asking the question would seem to be more suspicious than the alternative. In any case, the lack of immediate and proximate threat indicates they're not hunting us, and the absence of a TIE escort coming down the well too spells 'fairly junior VIP' to me; probably my level or below.

So, what do you think? If they've managed to get a sniff of your friends, we might be able to arrange to have them warned ahead of the inevitable raid; if the reason's otherwise, we might still learn something of interest to us and them. One can never have enough Info, usually comes in handy sooner or later!


TAG: Intervention

 

Priest
Location: Outpost Nowhere, Rhen Var


"By the Force. That rain must have strong properties! Priest, are you seeing anything different? Any thoughts?"

Priest engaged his advanced vision protocols. The processor began to crunch all the light they received into separate wavelengths. With the light broken down into wavelengths, the processors were then able to construct an elemental model based on the refraction frequencies.

"Lieutenant, the rain we are seeing has basic properties, ph 12-13 I'm guessing. It's breaking down the calcium that has accumulated on...whatever that is. I recommend that we take cover."

Tag bravo


Sent from my iPad using Tapatalk

 

IC: Beskaryc Taab
Aboard the wreck

"Taab, NOW!"

Upon hearing the order the mandalorian didn't hesitate. He had already mentally prepared himself for the explosive decompression that was about to happen in the corridor and had to assume the others had as well. "Fire in the hole." he commed out, letting the others know the shot was about to go out and with that he triggered his wrist rocket towards the outer bulkhead nearest the "beasty".

The rocket ran true, exploding against the inner hull just a meter or so away from the beast which had started to once again chase after the Skipper and Major. The explosion forced the creature from it's "feet" and threw it to the deck. For a moment that was all that happened as the hull was not immediately punctucred. Taab wondered for a moment if he was going to have to reload and try again. He fished into his ammo pouch and grabbed another anti-armor round for his wrist launcher when suddenly the weakened hull gave way. There was a loud groan in the corridor, followed by a tremendous crashing sound as a half meter size hole opened up in the wreck's outer hull.

The air rushed past Taab, who extended a set of blades from the armor on his left forearm and anchored himself into the corridor wall. The creature had no such anchoring, and had just regained its "footing" when it was pulled out through the hole. It tried to grasp at its sharp edges but failed and within moments had disappeared into the vacuum of space.

---

IC: Atin Taab
Speedy Trial

"Scorch, I'm going to be ejecting one of the spheres to port; it contains fuel. You'll need to latch onto it with tractor beams and get it out of here, Port side. It's away! Edge, beastie is coming your way!"

On Edge's wing Atin had hardly noticed her detour, so concerned he was with simply flying her wing. The order to "capture" a cargo pod did catch his attention however. "Ah....roger that," he called out forgetting to add who his message was for. His mind raced as he switched mental tracks from search and destroy to ID and capture. He saw the starboard side pod detach and start to float away from the wreck.

Pulling the Speedy Trial off of Edge's wing now he flicked a series of switches that would bring the tractor beam online. It wasn't standard equipment abaord the Sleuth Scout, but he and his father had installed it not long ago as a precursor to upgrading the weapons systems. He licked is lips behind his faceplate, the pod was fairly large and easy to pick out among the other debris in the area. Sadly that debris was causing him issues in getting a solid lock on the target. He would have to wait until he was closer in.

On the opposite side of the ship he caught an explosive decompression out of the corner of his eye. That must be Edge's target he thought briefly to himself as he finally got a clear lock on the pod and activated the tractor beam.

The Speedy Trial suddenly slewed to its own port side as Atin tried to compensate for the sudden additional mass that pulled at his ship's engines. Correcting quickly he made an effort to not over correct and look like a total nugget out here, especially with Edge watching. It never occured to him why he would be bothered if she saw him fail, but he knew that it would. He pulled in towards the pod now and angled the tractor emitter so that it would bring the cargo pod in line directly astern of the Speedy Trial, and back 25 meters. With the "capture" accomplished he wondered now if it would soon be time to gather up the EVA team and head back to the Johnny Boy. He had heard the previous radio chatter and while he wasn't sure what the effects of a time dilation field were, he doubted they were anything good.

TAG: Bravo, Mitth_Fisto, Heavy Isotope

 

IC: Winterkill
Deep Space, Johnny Boy, CAP


The nagai’s dark eyes narrowed as his man worked at lightning speed, furiously calculating and running possible maneuvers to counter what was quite likely a pretty even dogfight against the incoming tangos.

Suddenly, a com-call came in, it was unexpected, but it could make all the difference they needed.

[“Specter from Luck’s Gamble you have our assistance if you can wrap this up in five standard minutes. After that, I’m following orders and booking for Draukyse. How do you read?”]

A withheld a smirk.

“I copy you loud and clear, ‘Gamble’. Fire on the tangos and force them to split them up, if you can. Ace! Accelerate to attack speed and have weapons ready. As soon as they split up, let’s vape the closest intruder. Stay alert for any surprises. Ghast, how’s that ship’s update coming?”

Even as he spoke, Winterkill opened up the X-Wing’s S-foil and immediately set an attack course. If the Luck’s Gamble did manage to split up their enemies, then the Mercs would have proven once again, that their efficiency and adaptability was not only their greatest weapon, it could not be quantified in a tactical data-sheet.

In other words, they would always have the element of surprise on their side.

Winterkill remained focused as he timed his attack, depending on how the enemy reacted to the ‘Gamble’s’ suppressing fire.

It was time to turn the tables on whoever was hunting them.

@Sith-I-5, @Bravo/@Intervention, (@ Ace)

---

IC: Mahaben
Johnny Boy, Corridors


*Mercy in Darkness*/repeat

INTRUDER ALERT
INTRUDER ALERT

And it came to pass, that all he needed to do was follow the spikes of entropy and death that began to blossom and wane within the ship. The blind man’s steps were hurried. Death begat more death. It ate at life and the living, it devoured it until there was no more left. It was never satiated, no….never. Mahaben had to hurry.

The entropic spikes and flares were not his only guide. There was something else guiding him, which he found nearly impossible to ignore.

A beacon of fear.

INTRUDER ALERT
INTRUDER ALERT

It was a woman. A human from the feeling of it. Her abject terror was like a bonfire in the darkness. Strange that it was also in the direction of the entropic signatures. Most curious, indeed. But time was of the essence!

Making haste as a jedi would, the miraluka moved forward through the ship’s corridors.

INTRUDER ALERT
INTRUDER ALERT

The smell of death greeted him even before he rounded the corner, where a corona of conflicting auras and sensations assaulted his senses. Fear so potent that he though he would stumble, washed over him suddenly. But it was not his fear…

It was the woman’s.

Or rather, what remained of her.

INTRUDER ALERT
INTRUDER ALERT

Whatever was standing in front of him, was shedding off mortal mass and was barely recognizable. Mahaben could even perceive an artificial framework that seemed to be fusing…no, superseding itself and supplanting the humanoid form.

The fleshy parts that remained on the woman’s face expressed abject terror, but it was quite the opposite with the menacing looking skeleton underneath.

INTRUDER ALERT
INTRUDER ALERT

Despite this, he could still feel her presence quite strongly in the force. Her nervous system and critical organs seemed to be intact for the moment. All this was fascinating and mind-bending all at once, but there was no time to lose focus. Bogan was clearly at work here.

INTRUDER ALERT
INTRUDER ALERT

“JEDI!!” A mechanized female voice rasped from the cyborg-like apparition.

“You are to come with me! Resistance will only end in your destruction and the destruction of those aboard this ship! to your knees…NOW! Submit or become a slave!”

Mahaben stood his ground and opened his hands, showing that he was unarmed, at least for the moment.

“And what diety would you be? Why command to kneel if it is not worship you seek? If you wish for slaves only to destroy them, then why enslave them at all? I hear contradictions and errors, for I…. I am no jedi.”

INTRUDER ALERT
INTRUDER ALERT

The ex-jedi bent his knees slowly, but did not drop to the floor yet.

“I see woman and machine. And I say to you woman, calm yourself. Assert your authority over the usurper, lest more innocents perish. THINK! You are still connected, it has need of you….which means you can regain control of yourself!”

INTRUDER ALERT
INTRUDER ALERT

Oh, if it were only that easy. But he had to buy some time. This… ‘life form’…sought destroy him, but only if he did not comply with its wishes. Who could create such a thing? And why? Where did it wish to take him? Where there others like it?

Mahaben suspected he would get very few answers, if any at all. Priority demanded that the ship remain safe. If this thing was after force sensitives, then he would have to do what he could to stop it, at any cost.

But what of the woman?

*Sigh*

There was no way it would let him cut a hole in the hull so he could space it, and most likely himself.

There had to be another option.


Tag: @Intervention

 

IC: Masha Tinovorsh
Combat Escort, Speedy Trial

"Port side. It's away! Edge, beastie is coming your way!" the Captain called out, moments later an explosion burst from the hull, soundless to Masha, as the sound waves had no oxygen to pass through. What followed was a rush of air, pushing the flames outward into the vacuum as they followed whatever molecules they could burn. Along with the flames, came a hulking creature, it's size and shape distinguishable amongst the wreckage, whatever it was; now was the time for it's end.

Masha locked on with her targeting computer, setting the beast in it's sights, the indicator beeping increasingly faster. The heat of the explosion making it difficult for the computer to get a lock, Masha broke her sights and maneuvered closer, changing her position to be above and behind the explosion. Slowing down and setting up the target... Any second now, the beeping came rapidly and she let loose two of her missiles, which quickly split and impacted the creature from multiple angles.

Quietly hoping that whatever it was had been obliterated and that any of the explosions from her missiles wouldn't harm the crew. "Edge, fox two," she said, calmly but with an intense pace, her words indicating to the others nearby she had fired two missiles and to beware.

"Scorch, Quagmire, can you get eyes on this?"

TAGS: Bravo, Bardan_Jusik

 

IC: Lieutenant Colonel Chris Streets, R3-D3 "Thinker", Commander Yavscout, bridge crew, Luck's Gamble cruiser, Johnny Boy corvette
Location: near Draukyse


Colonel Streets was noticing that the two tangoes were sticking together despite their extravagant manouevers...perhaps one was slaved with the other?

"I copy you loud and clear, ‘Gamble’. Fire on the tangos and force them to split them up, if you can."

"Copy that." Streets acknowledged, already having an idea as to how he would do that, even though the instruction was not quite the one he thought he would get. "Pilot Officer, take us in, but slowly."

His own fingers moved fast across the control panels for the quad-lasers, disrupting their vain attempts to track the enemy starfighters, and bringing them together so that they would be firing on almost converging points, between the tangoes.

Out the side ports, he could see the X-Wings of Ace and Specter accelerating to attack speed.

Streets poised both fists above the separate control pads for the quads, with index fingers pointing down, and dropped them.

Two parallel streams of twin scarlet plasma bolts fled into the darkness, bisecting the tangoes, and he had to stear the guns fast to keep the fire between them. Then, keeping the gun on the right steady, he gradually budged the left quad-laser control ball to the left, widening the fire zone between the starfighters.

* * * *
Johnny Boy corridor

The clear-domed astromech R3-D3 was along in its stretch of corridor, had the nearest wall exposed with a square sheet of thin metal leaning against the bulkhead, and was doing repairs in there when its aural sensors caught a deafening BBBRRRIIIIIIIPPPP!!!

Doo-woot?! It warbled, startled by the deafening racket, wondering what in the Maker's Toolbox, that had been. Far as it had knew, there was nothing on the ship that could make that noise.

R3 backed from the wall, put down its third leg, and headed off to investigate, withdrawing its tool manipulator arm back into the torso carapace.

It was not long before it found the horizontal pitting of heavy slug rounds at dome height along the left wall of the next hallway that it had turned onto, then the coloured sprays of fluid, one which scanned as human blood.

R3 called the bridge.

* * * *
Johnny Boy bridge

Chief Helms Officer Andrew 'Guitar' Monk, a human, and his Gungan pal, Helms Co-Pilot Jityar 'Drums' Ba'tar guided the corvette slowly towards the distant debris field, incrementally increasing the power burns on the ship's one working engine.

"You are going to have to tell him," the green t-shirted Monk advised again, glancing sidelong at his longtime friend.

"No." Jityar whispered.

"Yes."

"Leave it, will ya?"

Behind them, the Security B1 was saying, "Copy, Ar-Three. Continue to investigate." It's voice increased in volume as it called up to the command deck. "Commander? Ar-Three reports two more One-Eighty-Twos on Deck Two, intersection 17-S. Security Units Seven, Eight and Twelve, converge on Deck Two, intersection 17-S."

* * * *
Johnny Boy command deck

Yav was kneeling on the deck behind Lasso's command chair, wondering why he made life so hard for himself, dividing attention between saving the ship, and clearing out the bees before Jase got back.

He had his coffiene-stained seat cushion in one hand, and having found a zip along one edge, now had the block of white padding from inside in the other hand. He regarded the latter for a moment, then spun it away to the wall, and started hand-scooping stunned bees into the cushion case.

"Commander? Ar-Three reports two more One-Eighty-Twos on Deck Two, intersection 17-S. Security Units Seven, Eight and Twelve, converge on Deck Two, intersection 17-S."

"Okay!" He called back. One-Eighty-Twos, eh? Not a common term, but some law enforcement agencies use that as comlink code for murder. Two more crew were down. He was losing people hand over fist!

He neded to change this up a gear.

The elf forced himself up off the ground, and stalked to the safety railing.

"Commander, visual sensors have picked up an explosion from within the debris field. Looks like a double missile impact on something close to that Bacta Hauler."

"Thank you." Yav leaned over the railing to look at the B1. "Security? I don't know if our people who encounter the intruders are getting shots off before they get killed-"

"The ones who found Crewman Franks did." The B1 reminded.

"Didn't do them any good, did it? I want personnel going round with astromechs, and those droids taking on water from the available taps."

"Why?"

"They can try spraying water on and around the intruders, then use their electro-jabbers to electrocute water; fry these frakkers! One person in each group should be designated an observer, so we can be informed of the success or failure of the plan. You got that?"

"Complying, Commander. Passing that on."

Yav nodded. Next on the agenda would be to talk to Ler, to see how he was fixed handling those spheres from the Bacta Hauler if they happened to be full of supplies.

Tag: greyjedi125 (Winterkill), Bravo (enemy starfighters), Skywalker_T-65

 

IC: Captain Jason Lasso
Hauled Bacta Hauler, deep space

"Scorch, Quagmire, can you get eyes on this?"

"Quagmire to Edge," Lasso said through his comlink as he peaked out a viewport; emergency shields snapped into place over the hull rupture and Lasso gave a thumbs up to Taab who was on the far side as he turned his attention back to the few remaining floating pieces of the monster. Lasso very much doubted it could "regroup" now, considering the explosion sent most of it's pieces in multiple directions and at speeds in zero gravity that already put them far too apart and the explosion Jason reasoned did far too much damage, "I got eyes on the remains. It's dead. Good shot. Be advised, Extra-vehicular Team of three members will be exiting the ship now and returning to the Speedy. Break, Scorch, did you copy communications traffic?"

As Lasso waited for a response from Atin, he signaled for Taab to catch up with the group. It was time to leave. Whatever treasures and secrets this ship held, Lasso figured, it would take with it to the grave. For the Mercs, their welcome was overdue and it wasn't worth risking the lives of his crew over dead corpses.


TAG Bardan_Jusik, Heavy Isotope, Mitth_Fisto

---

IC: Lieutenant Hawkins
Location: "Base Camp," unknown planet


"Lieutenant, the rain we are seeing has basic properties, ph 12-13 I'm guessing. It's breaking down the calcium that has accumulated on...whatever that is. I recommend that we take cover."

"Well," Hawkins said, "There goes my sight seeing trip. However," the Lieutenant looked upwards to the ceiling and listened to the falling rain echoing throughout the abandoned temple, "If this place has survived this long with this rain, we should be okay in here."




Hawkins turned away from the rain and walked a little bit ways in, "Well Doctor, it would seem that now we have some time," he nodded to the men starting to bed down for the night, "We should get some rest ourselves. Set your clock for oh-five-hundred-thirty hours. We'll need an early start and tomorrow, Doctor, I'll need all your smarts. We need to find a way home."


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


Hours later, nighttime....


Corporal Andrews watched the single sentry trooper walk up and down quietly the row of bed mats where the troopers rested for the night, down the main room. A single lantern, squarely in the middle of the large room, provided limited light as shadows danced along the walls. Off in the distance, a single soldier stood sentry at the entrance to the temple; other soldiers were around, mainly securing access points into the main room from deeper inside the temple or from outside. Other lanterns were placed throughout "base camp," but all lighting was kept to a minimal. Where sentry soldiers were not provided (since there was only one squad of 9 soldiers on the first watch shift), laser sensors and other security devices provided security and peace of mind for the troopers.

The Corporal turned to the Sergeant, who was sitting with his back against the wall and by one of the lanterns, on the evaluated balcony he and Andrews occupied to the rear of the main room and overlooking it. The Sergeant was on watch with the long range communications pack, but nothing was coming up as the Sergeant looked intensely into a colored holo map of the galaxy, trying to figure out where they were and on which planet.

"Sarge," Andrews said quietly, "I'm going to go for a walk. Check up on the sentries."

The Sergeant nodded, adding, "Good idea. Check out sensor trip wire Three, down that East corridor. Its not responding. Wickerson is down there and he hasn't reported anything. But maybe go check it out."

"Isn't that sensor wire by that chained worship room we saw earlier, Sarge?" Andrews asked.

The Sergeant smiled, "Afraid of ghosts, Corporal?"

Andrews smirked, "Boogie man can't hurt you when you take 'em out first."

Andrews was going down the corridors, his rifle light and helmet light casting shadows down the dark, empty corridors. Finally, he came up to Wickerson who was standing by a lantern.

"Report, private," Andrew ordered softly.

Wickerson shrugged, "Nothing, Andrews. Just me and the darkness."

"Good. Sarge said one of the sensors was going wacky down here."

"Nah, just technology probably. I haven't seen or heard a thing. Maybe some odds and ends noises, but what do you expect from a old abandoned building, right?"

Andrews smiled, "I guess your right. I'm going to go check it out, anyways. Watch my back, will ya?"

Wickerson smiled, "Sure thing boss. Go get 'em!"

Andrews walked on, Wickerson's lantern becoming a fading memory in the darkness as he walked deeper. Wickerson was the "end of the line" coming this way, except for the handful of sensors placed through out. Once again, his various lights casting shadows in the darkness, Andrews walked on, his foot-steps casting echoes throughout the large building.

Soon, he came to the Sergeant's worry, "Trip Wire Three". The invisible trip beam device was on the floor, where it should of been, guarding the exit/entrance way from Andrew's approach to the chained worship door. Whoever put the trip sensor up, must of done so in a bad position on a small piece of debris by the wall to make it just high enough to catch someone under the knees walking through it. It had slipped off the debris it seemed. Andrews went about fixing the problem and had the problem nearly fixed as he reprogrammed the device when he heard foot-steps off the way he had came. Thinking it was Wickerson coming to check on him, he felt nothing of it, but he had to admit it was very cold all of sudden. Ignoring it, he went to pick up his rifle when the foot-steps, seeming very heavy now even for a trooper in their gear, stopped right behind him. Andrews could feel breathing on the back of his neck, warm and deep and rapid breathing.

He shrugged uncomfortably as he brought his rifle up, it's light mount catching the chained door.

And Andrews stopped with his rifle in his grasp as he knelt on the ground. The chains were slacked, as if their tension broken, and the worship door was opened a little bit.

"Wickerson?" Andrews asked out-loud to the person he assumed was him behind him.

No response.

Andrews stood up, rifle in hand, and turned around, his light bringing to life the person that stood before him.

"Oh ****!" Andrews barked as his head, moments later, rolled clean off of his shoulders and to the ground below, rolling some inches away from his headless corpse that dropped lifelessly to the ground. There, his blaster light and helmet light shown off into the darkness, giving no hint to the killer, other then the retreating, heavy foot-steps going back the way Andrews had come from.


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


Lieutenant Hawkins


"Lieutenant! Lieutenant!"

Hawkins could of swore he heard his name as his brain started coming online, although his senses had not yet caught up. Noises started to become louder and louder from a almost muted silence to a rushing roar of sound!

"LIEUTENANT!"

The final "Lieutenant" was like a freight train to his ears and the man snapped awake, expecting a soldier yelling, but it was one of the Sergeants waking him quietly, as everyone else. The early morning light was shinning through the open stone windows now. All around, soldiers were hastily throwing on their combat gear and grabbing rifles from besides their bed rolls.

"Report! Report!" Hawkins blurted out as his brain put two and two together and he snapped awake to the pending alert, all but jumping up.

"We have an issue, sir," the Sergeant was saying as he pointed up to the balcony, "The Sergeants are meeting, sir. Corporal Andrews went missing last night. He went past Private Wickerson's check-point last night to check out Trip Sensor Three that wasn't responding. According to Private Wickerson, he never came back, sir!"

Hawkins was listening to the whole debrief as he hastily finished putting on his own combat gear as he walked briskly up to the balcony steps and where the meeting was taking place.

"We've locked the place down, Lieutenant," the ranking First Sergeant said, "Doubled the guard at all check points and sent out a search party for Corporal Andrews. Everything has come back negative on contacts. Search Team A, searching up where Andrews was last headed, said Trip Sensor Three was fully operating and the worship doors were still fully chained. We've recalled all search teams for the time being until the whole Platoon is up and running, sir."

"Very well, First Sergeant, thank you. Until proven otherwise, we must assume the possibility that Corporal Andrews got lost, fell through a mind-shaft, or simply got lost. Communications, First Sergeant?"

"Negative, Lieutenant," the man replied, "We've tried reaching him through both general channels and tactical channels and no response."

Hawkins nodded, "We must also assume gear malfunction. With that said, gentlemen, lets also state the obvious: we could have a hostile force here and must plan accordingly. Priest, per your expertise, could anything survive on this planet, from what we've seen so far of it?"


TAG Wildwookiee

 

IC: Seira Trasks
Corridors, Johnny Boy




"Unacceptable!" the machine that had become her barked bad boldly in a machined feminized voice.

Inside herself, Seira fought for everything inside her and yelled with tears, her voice actually coming out of the robot, "RUN MAHABEN! RUN!!!!!!!!"

The robot lifted it's arm and through her eyes, Seira could see Mahaben come square within that target. "NO!!!!!" she screamed, but her voice would remain inside her, never to come out, as the plasma gun started cranking off shots as it marched towards the Jedi, spraying the corridor with a unrelenting amount of energy that no normal organic could hope to escape from, plasma bolts digging into the walls and ceiling and floor that didn't blast towards Mahaben!


@greyjedi125

---

OOG: Available info on enemy starfighters: FAIR Raptor-class Fighter / Interceptor.


IC: Enemy Starfighters
Near Johnny Boy, deep space


The two fighters did a circuit of figure eights to keep sensor locks off, finishing off the impressive flying with barrel rolls under and below each respected comrade. As they came out of the barrel rolls, they locked long-range weapons missiles and fired, sending two proton torpedoes per each rocketing towards the Johnny Boy. The four torpedoes would be enough of a distraction as the two fighters banked hard port and starboard, splitting up and attempting to run the "circle" around the Johnny Boy and find a weak spot in the CAP or the Corvette itself. The four torpoedoes would have to be dealt with before they slammed into the JB, which now gave the two enemy starfighters a added tactical advantage.

And the shuttle would be dealt with as well, if it so ventured further from the JB.

It was clear very early on that these fighters weren't your average pirate or scum bag. They were trained and trained well. And bold and confident enough to run solo from wing-pair protection.


TAG greyjedi125, Sith-I-5

---

IC: Terrel Vacks
Algor


So, what do you think? If they've managed to get a sniff of your friends, we might be able to arrange to have them warned ahead of the inevitable raid; if the reason's otherwise, we might still learn something of interest to us and them. One can never have enough Info, usually comes in handy sooner or later!

"Only one way to find out," Vacks said, nodding to Aidan, "Any way you can access what ImpStar that is? If your up high enough, your search or sensor tag shouldn't send any red flags, right? If we find out what ImpStar that is, trace where it came from, and find a roster. That could shorten our list of possibilities. Call me cauitious, but my ole war gut is saying something is wrong here. I know the AADM well enough to know...no," Vacks shook his head, "Something is off. Any way you can use your Imperial authority with the base to find out who that is?"


TAG Tim Battershell
OOG: I know it's slow going, but things are about to heat-up Tim!

 

IC: Aidan Dodd
Blood Moon, GL Pad, Algor - Cronese Mandate.

"Something is off. Any way you can use your Imperial authority with the base to find out who that is?"; Vacks responds.

"My thinking exactly, Terrel; might as well 'Get the harvest in while the sun shines', as we say on Agamar!"

I key for the same encrypted channel as I used to contact AADM Control and start talking.

"Algor Garrison, this is the Imperial Intelligence Operative who arrived a few hours ago. My ship's currently parked on your GML Area's Number Five Pad. Please inform the Garrison's Commanding Officer that I need to see whoever's responsible for interfering with a highly classified Ubiqtorate mission. Whoever it is'd better have a really good reason for arriving by Star Destroyer instead of using something far more discrete!"

Releasing the transmission key, I address Vacks;

"Always good tradecraft to steer as near the truth as possible when spinning 'nuna and gornt' tales, Terrel, less chance of slipping up that way. So don't be concerned about anything I say to these jokers; we are looking for your friends, are we not? I won't come out and name them directly but I will need to borrow at least one of their attributes for realism."


TAG: Intervention


OOG: Quite enjoying the 'felinx and rodus' [cat and mouse] exchanges! 'Nuna and Gornt tale' is the nearest I can come to the UK expression 'Cock and Bull story'

 

IC: Winterkill
Deep Space, Johnny Boy, CAP




The Luck’s Gamble opened fire, and for a moment, the nagai’s dark eyes witnessed a most impressive sight.

The twin laser bolts shot right between the two enemy fighters, then they began to widen, their arc and angle growing and forcing the enemy to split.

“Yes!” Winterkill heard himself exclaim, as he made a mental note to commend whomever was manning the gun turrets on the cruiser.

He was already banking fast, eager to give chase to the nearest enemy starfighter and blast it to crackling atoms, when ‘Ghast’ began emitting shrill sounds and his ship’s sensors bleeped maddeningly.

“They did what!!?? Frakk!!”

Four enemy torpedoes where racing toward the Johnny Boy. This was bad if not dealt with immediately. A quick glance at the sensor also revealed the enemy tangos trajectory as they began to circle around the JB.

Sneaky poozers!

“ACE, go after the nearest tango and keep him off the JB. Gamble, we have four torpedoes and two separate tangos, fire at will, fire at will. JB, you have four incoming torpedoes! Good time for shields! I’ll try to clear them!”

The nagai gritted his teeth and pulled hard on the stick as he executed a tight flip, then rolled the X-Wing and maxed the thrusters to chase after the four missiles. Oh, if he only had his old StarViper now!

Ghast screeched in protest at his sudden maneuver.

“Specs were meant to be pushed!” Winterkill snapped back as he jockeyed to get a target lock. Whether by fortune or by design, the enemy fighters had launched their missile barrage while still in close formation, which meant their payload was within each other’s detonation range by default. If he could detonate one in time, then all four would be destroyed by the ensuing chain reaction.

All he had to do was fly faster and blast at least one torpedo. Light traveled faster than any missile he could fire, so the laser cannons were the weapon of choice. Bridging the distance, his firing timing and the consequent chain reaction…well, it was safe to say it would be a VERY CLOSE call or a VERY BAD one.

There was also the Luck’s Gamble, to consider. And right now the cruiser couldn’t sport a better name, ironically or not.

The sensor lock began to beep intermittently, signifying a partial target lock.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon…….”

Winterkill wasn’t listening to himself. The distance between the Johnny Boy and the missiles was growing increasingly smaller quite quickly. His finger was just on the red firing trigger! His X-Wing raced as fast as it could, after-burners erupting with furious crimson fire.

He needed a half-a-second more. In space, it was all about time and math. If you were just off….

“YAAAAAHHHH!!!”

Black gloved fingers depressed the red firing trigger, releasing four brilliant lances of vaporizing light.

The lock-on sensor was emitting a solid beep, but he hadn’t heard it because of his yell.

Did he fire just on the nick of time, or was he a fraction of a second too late?

And what about the ‘Gamble’?

The ensuing white flash washed out his sensors for a moment, which seemed to last for an eternity. Were the missiles destroyed, or did they hit the Johnny Boy?

That was a terrible thing to consider for such a long time.

Tag: @Intervention, @Sith-I-5

---

IC: Mahaben
Deep Space, Johnny Boy, Corridors




And there it was. One would think that all things which had a logic base would also respond to reason. Alas, not so.

The bizarre mechanoid barked back at the blind folded miraluka in its synth-voice:

“UNACCEPTABLE!”

The sound was decidedly menacing and threatening, carrying all measures of finality, its gleaming metallic weapon now being leveled at the ex-jedi.

The former jedi prepared himself for what was obviously coming next.

“ RUN MAHABEN!RUN!!!!!!!!!”

That voice! It was the woman. She knew his name. Further more, her concern for his safety outshone her personal terror, at least for the briefest of moments, just enough to override the ‘machine’s’ vocabulator. How then, could he just leave her to her terrible fate? How could he not even attempt to save such a brave soul?

The cyborg’s weapon began to fire bolts of scathing plasma, one after the other. They hit the walls, the ceiling, even the floor! The blasts scorched everything near the ex-jedi, but not the miraluka himself, save for his robes, which he discarded immediately.

It was a trap. Especially if he tried to move. The cyborg-thing was trying to corral him before attempting to capture him. If it wanted him dead, it would have unleashed its fiery fury right at him.

No, he was done running. From the Empire, from the Sith, from Bogan. From himself.

Mahaben stood his ground, then shot a hand forward, sending forth a considerably powerful force push in an attempt to pin the monstrosity against the hull and hold it there. With his other hand he sought to turn it around, so it would hit the wall facing it, its body splayed flat.

“You…will…not….pass!!” He rasped as he focused his mind on the task at hand.

“So, you seem to like playing with fire, eh?”

The temperature in the corridor was rising very quickly after the plasma shots were fired, consequently, the ex-jedi began to sweat profusely. Still, he stayed focused in his attempt to pin the cyborg-thing to the exterior wall.

“Security!!! If you can hear this…..” He shouted now.

“I suggest you make this corridor as cold as possible! Now would be a good time!!”

In his mind, Mahaben suspected this overture would only delay the inevitable, but he had to try something. For the crew’s sake, for that of Skywalker and a new Jedi Order. For all force sensitives, present and future.

Ignoring the sweat now falling from his brow, he spoke once more. His voice took a sterner tone as he directed himself at the machine:

“Let…her…go!”


Tag: @Intervention (Seira), @Sith-I-5 (Security)

 

IC: Terrel Vacks
Algor

"Algor Garrison, this is the Imperial Intelligence Operative who arrived a few hours ago. My ship's currently parked on your GML Area's Number Five Pad. Please inform the Garrison's Commanding Officer that I need to see whoever's responsible for interfering with a highly classified Ubiqtorate mission. Whoever it is'd better have a really good reason for arriving by Star Destroyer instead of using something far more discrete!"

The reply was expected to be shaky, "Please stand-by."

Silence continued to fill the comm. For the moment, Aidan and Vacks continued their conversation in response of the silence.

Releasing the transmission key, I address Vacks;

"Always good tradecraft to steer as near the truth as possible when spinning 'nuna and gornt' tales, Terrel, less chance of slipping up that way. So don't be concerned about anything I say to these jokers; we are looking for your friends, are we not? I won't come out and name them directly but I will need to borrow at least one of their attributes for realism."

Vacks though for a moment and decided to give the safest---and easiest known to most experienced Imperial commands---answer, "Taller," Vacks finally said, "Captain Rick Taller. Considered MIA from his mercenary organization known as the Mercs---just before the Battle of Yavin---shortly before the Battle of Port Haven between Imperial forces against Merc and pirates and mercenaries of Port Haven. A search for Rick Taller would bring up a immediate 'most wanted' by both ISB and Imperial Intelligence. That should cover your tracks plenty."

Finally a response came, but the responder's voice was vastly different: bold, in charge, and powerful. And it didn't come from the base, rather it came from the orbital station. "This is AADM Golan II Control. Proceed on mission. We will ensure the arrival of the ISD does not hamper your mission. AADM Golan II Control clear."

Whoever responded did not leave room for a response as the communication was cut instantly. Nor did it leave any solid answer either. The response was direct, yet danced around Aidan's primary question. And worse, whoever said the response was experienced enough with Imperial Intelligence to be so bold in a communication with an "Imperial Agent". Whoever had responded was no mere Imperial Officer in charge of the orbital station or even the slightly higher officer charge of AADM. Whoever had responded was above them all, if not by military rank, by authority of their job.

And that left a knot in Vacks' stomach.

"I believe," Terrel said carefully, "We should leave. And quick."

But any notion of "quick" was quickly done away with as the crude spot-lights that once guarded the exterior wall of crudeness and swung around to shine directly at their ship!



Nor did it help that sensors were going off as below, through the well defended walls of the base, a AT-ST came lumbering out, it's turret head training it's deadly weaponry squarely on the Blood Moon! Two older, but nonetheless effective, AT-RT's came out behind the AT-ST, the faster and smaller AT-RT's blazing across the expanse of the ground in different directions to flank the Blood Moon in other directions other then the exterior crude wall. All around the walkers swarmed a platoon of Imperial Army Troopers armed with what looked like field gear customary to a Quick Reaction Force in case of attack: they had smaller arms blaster rifles, squad-level repeating weapons, and even rocket launchers for surface to air and ground to ground intercept multi-role purpose! The troopers swarmed around the landing pad, taking positions to cover every angle. And then a squad started it's approach up the landing ramp, weapons armed.

A voice over-rode any communication freedom the Blood Moon might have as it crept into the cockpit's speakers. It was the same bold voice from before.

"Imperial Intelligence vessel, this is AADM Golan II Control. We want to ensure your full protection during the rest of the ISD's visit. Please stay within your vessel. Further instructions will be given as needed. AADM Golan II Control clear."

Like before, the transmission was ended with no chance of response.

The Imperial squad en-route to the Blood Moon took up positions around the ship at every point, putting two troopers at the landing ramp personally.

"Well," Vacks said matter-of-factly, "I don't think even a Admiral's uniform would get us out of this one. And it's clear their stalling for time. Someone is coming to pay us a visit, but until they get here, they don't want us leaving. Well, if my time with the Mercs has taught me anything, it's that wherever we go, chaos follows. I'm sure some inter-galactic problem will come up to save us from ever impending Imperial prison. Well," Vacks said as he leaned back in his seat, "Got any favorite card games? Sabacc? To spend the time or do you have a grand Imperial override code to get us out of this mess?"


TAG Tim Battershell

 

IC: Seira Trasks
Corridors, Johnny Boy


“Let…her…go!”

The machine had been programed in matters of defeat. Mission could not be achieved. So there was only one response.

No warning.

No alarm.

Only the moments---all too quickly---of an alarming danger sense that was too quick to respond to.

Even for a Jedi. Or ex-jedi. Or anyone.

The machine's red eyes went dark and suddenly a explosion ripped it's way from with-in, the explosion of two concussion grenade's worth of power ripping it's way out from the machine and sending debris from machine and remaining organic parts and the explosion itself outwards to all that it would touch.

The game had changed. No longer would there be mercy. No longer would there be restraint. Honor had no place.


TAG greyjedi125

---

IC: Enemy Starfighters
Near Johnny Boy, deep space


The missiles were gone, gone to well piloting. But the distraction had been made.

While one fighter had the other enemy starfighter to deal with (Ace), the other fighter was free of any such restrictions. He poured the speed on, dipping into the weaponry blind zone of the Corvette's engines, and speed ahead. Arming weapons, he dropped another pair of proton torpedoes, but this time kept on course, keeping his blind zone advantage!


TAG greyjedi125, Sith-I-5

 

IC: Master Sergeant PJ Warrant, Warrant Officer I Hover, Warrant Officer II Data
Level Three, Hanger Bay, Johnny Boy




Hover pulled himself along the destroyed Crew Quarters, his bloodied right hand reaching out for the next piece of shattered wall. His heart beat, one beat, after another. But it was in a vain attempt as he dragged his shattered body along, blood running down his face, his legs broke, his rubs broke, and a burn mark of plasma across his torso and through his armor. His left arm was hit with a plasma discharge as well, but he used it to weakly old the oozing blood from the stab of the monster's plasma weapon into his left lower side.

Blood was rich in his mouth as he pulled himself along, his vision starting to blur. But he couldn't stop. Ahead, PJ had resorted to hand-to-hand combat with a machine of dripping flesh that discarded it's flesh and blood sickeningly to the floor behind itself to reveal a hardened metal interior.

"PJ!" Hover blurted out weakly as he pulled himself through the machine and PJ sized hole in the Crew Quarters wall and to the outside corridor. The ex-Rebel soldier went for his pistol side-arm, holding it up weakly and shaking as he tried to aim it at the back and forth fight between machine and human.

There was a scream as PJ suddenly froze in pain as the machine had his left arm and SNAPPED it in twoThe hardened soldier was caught as the machine reared back and slammed it's armored head into PJ's! The soldier was still caught, throwing his right arm wildly in vain return punches as the machine then took him and slammed him into the wall, then took a machined left hand and dug a finger into PJ's right eye socket!

The soldier screamed in pain, but now Hover had his shot and was about to fire a head shot when his strength failed him. The pistol dropped to the floor, his hand reaching out to the shattered body of PJ as the machine delivered a knee cracking hit to the soldier's armor and torso, then taking out his right leg with a bone breaking hit, causing the man to slump down the wall, dropping to the ground in sitting position with a dazed look on his face as blood rolled down his face. He looked right at Hover and seemed to attempt a smile with his broken face.

Suddenly Hover felt a strong, warm hand on his back and he looked to his side as Timothy "Old Man Blue" Waters knelt beside him, smiling. The Jedi used Revitalize to help heal the soldier.

"Rest," Timothy said and Hover suddenly felt strength and healing start to rush through his body. But his broken body remained the same, he felt at least he could keep his eyes open as he watched Waters walk to the machine that turned around from PJ's brokenness.

"You are not welcome here, Devil," Timothy spoke firmly as the machine raised it's weapon arm and fired a plasma round right at Timothy!

The old man did not flinch, did not move, did not utter a word. Instead, a Protection Bubble was around him with just a thought! The discharge of the weapon flashed around his bubble, then the bubble dropped.

"You will not win. Your days are numbered Evil One," Timothy spoke powerfully, but softly, as he raised his left hand and Force Deflection easily blocked the incoming stab from the rifle end of his weapon arm!

"And so comes your defeat," Timothy said as the machine's eyes went dark and----the machine's metal pealed away from the torso as if Force Grip had---extended by Timothy's right and left hands---moved to rip away the metal and out, as the machine fell lifeless to the ground, came a self destruct device. Added by Mechu-deru, Timothy disarmed the bomb with Telekinesis before dropping it to the ground.

Inside the twisted bulk of the machine were the deceased remains---or what left of those remains---of Frank. Timothy stepped over the disabled machine and applied Revitalize to Warrant.

Both Hover and Warrant would need extensive medical attention. But, for now, they were stable and would live.

Getting up from kneeling, Timothy calmly calmed the bridge, "Bridge, this is Crewman Timothy Waters. Frank has been dealt with, area secured. Medical assistance dispatched to our Level Three location, Crew Quarters, for Hover and Warrant. Crewman Waters out."


TAG Sith-I-5

 

IC: Mahaben
Deep Space, Johnny Boy, Corridors


*Time/repeat*


He had seen them clearly in the Force. The eyes of the miraluka revealed much, but even in this case, such revelation was insufficient to alter the outcome.

The internal flow of energy within the machine-woman had suddenly changed. Its ‘red eyes’ went dark, and two points of light grew bright within it, which was a most curious sight, even as he focused his telekinetic might to pin the metallic menace against the wall. There’d been the briefest warning he had ever received from the force, all too brief for him to act.

Then it happened, in a blinding flash.

An explosion with the force of two concussion grenades ripped its way out of the machine and tore through everything it came in contact with, which included Mahaben.

There had not been enough time to shield against it, even for someone like him.

No time.

No time to act. All he could do was observe as the wave of concussive violence warped and obliterated all matter in its path. He had seen this many times during the clone wars, but seeing such things through the force would always be fascinating to him, the way nature and the universe reacted in such instances.

No. He had no time to formulate a plan to save the woman who had warned him to run and was now lost, at least corporeally, much like himself.

He had no time to complete his mission. To find other jedi, to train what force sensitives remained scattered through the galaxy in the wake of Order 66.

No time to truly see if that young man was indeed the son of the Chosen One, the son of Skywalker.

No time to see a new dawn for the Jedi Order.

No time to keep his promise to the stormtrooper and find out about ‘The Kid’.

No time to regret any of the things he had done during his time in exile.

No time to see if the young Merc Captain would turn to the Light or to the Darkside.

Bogan had played his hand masterfully. The galaxy was becoming darker and darker, all light becoming obscured. But he was not afraid.

There is no fear.

The force was indeed his ally, and the light took care of its own.

"Sorry Sodalis, sorry Master Yoda… I have failed you..." The ex-jedi thought ruefully. He thought he should smile, but he couldn’t feel anything other than himself being suspended in mid-air as the wave of concussion embraced him tightly and he was blown backward.

These were the last things he thought he heard and saw:

He heard Sodalis call him by name, reassure him. There was no death, there was only the force. Or was it Ashla speaking to him? There were two glowing women in his perception. One seemed to emerge from a metal cocoon. Could that have been the other woman who had urged him to run just moments ago?

He then saw himself in many places he had been to previously. Places where a dying Sodalis helped to heal the sick and the land. Places devastated by galactic warfare, ravaged beyond recognition, leaving its population to die off or fend for itself under the most desperate conditions. The force had guided him to her, to aid her in her mission of healing before her time among the living came to and end, and to bequeath to him a new mission…to help restore what was lost.

‘Rest now, Mahaben…..’

There. A glimpse of the future. A jewel glinting in the night. An event in the not-so-distant future.

‘Rest.’

Yes, it was time to rejoin the other Jedi. Return to the Light and become one with the Force. There was nothing to fear. Sodalis was right; the Light would take care of its own.

There is no death

The miraluka felt himself ‘Let go’ of his bonding tethers, and just like his old and tattered robes, he was no more.


***

 

IC: Aidan Dodd
Blood Moon, GL Pad, Algor - Cronese Mandate.

"Well," Vacks says matter-of-factly, "I don't think even a Admiral's uniform would get us out of this one. And it's clear their stalling for time. Someone is coming to pay us a visit, but until they get here, they don't want us leaving. Well, if my time with the Mercs has taught me anything, it's that wherever we go, chaos follows. I'm sure some inter-galactic problem will come up to save us from ever impending Imperial prison. Well," he continues, leaning back in his seat, "Got any favorite card games? Sabacc? To spend the time or do you have a grand Imperial override code to get us out of this mess?"

I now learn a new factoid about Terrel; he's a real 'glass three-quarters empty' type!

Personally, I'm not too worried by the unexpected turn of events.... yet! My 'Failsafe Ploy' should give me a high degree of insulation, even if the 'mission' is a complete bust.

"Not an Override Code; no; and speaking for myself, I'd want someone to pay us a visit so we can start getting some answers! I do have something that's maybe almost as good, though; the Stygian-level Clearance Code all 'Adjustments' personnel get issued, but which I hardly ever use - the version I used on approach is somewhat generic and low-level. Using my 'Adjustments' issue should tell these jokers that I get tasked directly by the Ubiqtorate, answer only to them and have a higher Security Clearance than the usual run of Intelligence Officers - far as I know, Ultra-Stygian is the top level. Should give even ISB types pause, possibly make them rather worried!"

It's a running joke among 'Adjustments' personnel, now getting more than a little threadbare with overuse, that even we aren't cleared to know anything about the assignments we get given!

To enhance the effect of the new Code I'll be transmitting, I switch the Comm to a much higher encryption standard, not my most secure, because I do want the message understood by the officious type on the Golan - but not one that an ordinary Operative or Agent would have access to, either.

"AADM Control, time to introduce myself a bit more formally, I think - I'm modest and trained to dislike standing too far out of the background - my updated Clearance Code transmitting now! For the record, that ISD will have already compromised any chance of my garnering prey-related information from the local Fringe just by inserting itself into orbit! That action may also have triggered a warning signal and precipitated a rapid bug-out response, something my prey is very well known for! I suggest you stand prepared to answer extremely searching questions from the Ubiqtorate when you're brought before them, as you will be; heads are quite likely to roll and mine won't be among them! I happen to know my Superiors really wanted to close the file on the target I was tracking!"

Hopefully that little lot will give 'AADM Control' a dose of acid indigestion and a sense of chill about the heart (if ISB types still possess that particular organ). Best of all, it fulfils my pledge to Terrel not to name the Mercs directly and might equally well apply to a mixed group of Clones, their former Mandalorian Training Sergeants (and possibly Jedi Officers) that deserted and vanished into thin air around the time of the 'Jedi Treason' and subsequent 'Retaliation'. Some of that group had been found and eliminated over the years but one 'Bardan Jusik' and one 'Etain Tur-Mukan', both of them trained Jedi, were still prominently positioned on the 'Outstanding Wanted' list - higher up than Terrel or Taller, in fact.


TAG: Intervention

 

IC: "He," Alexander Zat, Agent Bonds
Dinning Room, Suterusu, HT-2200 Medium Freighter, hyperspace towards Darknon Station




Bonds sighed as he put his plate down on the table, "Sit," he said with a grimace, "But what I am about to tell you...will change you forever."

As they sat, Bonds said, "The only reason you are receiving this information is because I have standing orders from Royal Command outlining my mission details. A Sealed Order of the Highest by the Royal Palace...that is the thump card of all thump cards, since I was briefed on your possession, Tora Senshi, of the order. What is said in here does not leave, do I make myself clear?"

Both men nodded.

Bonds took his feet off the table, scooted in his chair in near the table, and put his elbows on the table as he spoke.

"House of Royal Intelligence----HRI---has been monitoring galactic on-goings since it's existence. We are the most entrenched and informed intelligence organization in the galaxy. I can tell you when Emperor Palpatine goes to the refresher. In light of that, when something happens---and often times long before it happens---we are well aware of it. At Alderaan, we had a ship in position to monitor the planet's destruction. We did not have the resources to evacuate the planet, nor the time. It was one of the few times in HRI history that we were not aware of something this big happening. While we were tracking the Death Star, we did not have a intelligence operative on the space station itself; the inability for us to embed an agent among the Imperial ranks aboard the station was troublesome to HRI; we reached out to Royal Command on the most secretive of levels to help us embed an agent on the Death Star for information. For months both HRI and Royal Command tried to get an agent on the Death Star, but with no success. The security was on a level we had never sen before; we were able to get agents as close as the defense ISDs around the construction zone, but no closer then that.We made the Royal Palace aware of the issue after we could not find a solution. Three days later...Alderaan was destroyed.

"The most troubling fact wasn't our ability to not embed an agent within the Death Star. It was the fact that as a organization, the HRI was suddenly seeing increasing trends around the galaxy. A darkness was growing, like a sick tumor, from a place we could not find. It seemed to be coming from everywhere and happening too quick for us to even know about it, which was the most troubling of all. The Death Star wasn't the first; Highland Market on Courscant in zero BBY, Observatory One-One-Three at Anstares VI in point five BBY, Outbreak Alpha One on Boro-borosa III in one BBY, Christopher Square on Lianna in one BBY, Market Street on Drog II in two BBY. All of these we had no idea was coming or had very little warning. All of them, high profile attacks with a lot of witnesses. But each one had a purpose; they were not simply terrorist attacks. These attacks had a goal in mind; of testing someone or something. We could never find out who was behind the attacks. All of our leads came up dry, dead-ends. Two agents were killed following leads, which is a rarity, even in HRI. We kept the information to ourselves, deciding that as HRI, we had to handle it first. Finally in one BBY, we presented our findings to the Royal Palace. Two more attacks, Highland Market and Observatory One-One-Three would follow our report. Then the Death Star. While we were able to pin the Death Star squarely on the Imperials, all the other attacks...we didn't know.

"All of our contacts in galactic governments, shady organizations, the black market, the criminal underground---everything came up dry as to who was making these attacks. Even Bounty Hunters wouldn't talk. Someone was operating so deep, so behind the scenes that no one, not even Imperial or Rebel Intelligence, had a idea who. Then The Council called the HRI leadership to one of their meetings on Jod. It was shortly after that meeting, after the Jod Civil War in 0 BBY, that truly evil things started appearing on the home world of Jod. Monsters and things of darkness that came straight out of the Ancient Scrolls....and out of the pits of hell. The Prophecy of the Shooting Stars and the Mercs...is starting to unfold itself a little more. If prophecy holds true, gentlemen, the Jod went into hiding because whatever darkness is coming....only an allegiance between sworn enemies can stop it. The Jod will not be able to protect the galaxy alone anymore."


TBC
OOG: Gotta go to church!

 

OOC: Take Two
IC: Corum, Pixi (Security Unit 12), Intersection 16-S, Johnny Boy


"RUN MAHABEN! RUN!"

The pair of humans who formed Security Unit 12 had been drawn at a run from the carnage of irradiated...meat...at Intersection 17-S by the shout of an artificial voice, and the ganglier Pixi had almost done the splits trying not to run into the sudden blast of plasma fire which had appeared in his path on arrival at 17-S, but both men had retreated to the hallway corner, Corum pulling his team-mate aside, so he could edge to the corner, and look glance round.

"Okay, that new jedi type, Mahaben, and some bipedal metal droid thingie." He reported, whilst the bent over Pixi groaned in pain, and tried to knead some feeling back into his over-stretched groin.

Corum glanced back, and patted Pixi on the back. "Suck it up, Pix'."

“Security!!! If you can hear this…..” the Mahaben fellow, Corum assumed, shouted from round the corner.

"Hello!" The Security guard had to yell back, to be heard over the cacophany of the plasma weapon. "What's up?"

"What's up?" Pixi echoed from waist-height. "Take a wild fragging guess!"

“I suggest you make this corridor as cold as possible! Now would be a good time!!”

"Well, we'll do our best!" Corum raised his wristlink to call the Bridge. "Security Unit 12 here. We need a change in the environmental contr-"

KA-KABOOM!!

A deafening shock wave bucked the floor and funnelled along the corridor to hit the bulkhead to their right, splitting to continue past them, as well as the opposite branch of the T-junction, dropping both crewmembers, blackened shrapnel ricoheting off the wall and scattering over their supine forms.

Tag: no-one

 

IC: Masha Tinovorsh
Combat Escort, Speedy Trial

"Quagmire to Edge," the Captain came in over the comms, finally... Masha thought, getting ready to set her targeting up again, "I got eyes on the remains. It's dead. Good shot. Be advised, Extra-vehicular Team of three members will be exiting the ship now and returning to the Speedy. Break, Scorch, did you copy communications traffic?"

Masha breathed a sigh of relief and took a drink from her hydration pack, "Edge copies loud and clear," she commed, "I'll keep an eye on you." The flames died out quickly, the scorched remains of whatever that thing was finally came into clear view, a second wave of relief. "Gonna get a sit-rep from the CAP, call me if you need me."

Once the crew seemed to be in a better spot, she began to hold a figure-eight pattern along the wreckage, passing by the Speedy Trial as she did.

"Edge to Specter, how's things on your end?"

TAGS: Bravo, Bardan_Jusik, greyjedi125

 

IC: Winterkill
Deep Space Johny Boy, CAP

When the glare of the flash finally dissipated,Winterkill forced himself to look at the sensor screen. He wasn’t even aware that he was holding his breath! The Johnny Boy was still there!!

His gambit had worked!

The nagai allowed himself a short exhale of relief...but.....

...Why was ‘Ghast’ still screeching at him?

The horrifying answer was revealed by the combat report on his HUD.

Ace was doing all he could to successfully tie-up on of the enemy starfighters. However, the other enemy fighter managed to slip past them. To his dismay, it'd also fired torpedoes on the Johnny Boy without meeting any resistance.

Winterkill thought his heart would stop at the sight, but that was a useless sentiment which he quickly brushed aside. Action was all that was needed. Sentiment could wait until after the grave.

Since he was already at max speed, Specter nose-dived towards the JB in an attempt to head off the two missiles. He was coming from the other side of the attack, so he would need to thread the ship’s underbelly and shoot up right from under the engines. The nagai brought his Speeding X-Wing so close to the JB’s outer-hull, he was skimming it by a mere meter.

In his gut, he felt he was not going to be on time. He had been lucky the first round, but this time the enemy fighter had too much of a time advantage. The fact that the Johnny Boy itself was already moving somewhat, bought him a bit more time, but would it be enough?

At that very moment and idea blossomed in his mind. Not only that, another surprise call came through the comm channel.

[“Edge to Specter, how’s things on your end?”]

“Edge, we have two torpedoes plus an enemy fighter flying free on the JB’s aft section. Engage if possible and fire at will. I’m on intercept, but have no target acquisition. Luck’s Gamble is also supporting the effort. Ace is dogfighting one enemy target. Specter to JB, FULL THRUST TO ENGINE!! FULL THRUST TO ENGINE!! You have two torpedoes on your TAIL!!!!

"Ghast! Tell your friends in engineering to do an override if the engineers are too slow. A sudden blast from a fiery plume generated by a ship of the Johnny Boy’s size could detonate the torpedoes prematurely. Better for them to detonate close than on IMPACT."

It was a desperate measure and wild gamble, that was for sure! But the enemy starpilot was basically firing at a fish in a bucket. They had to change the engagement dynamic. Still, Winterkill pushed his X-Wing as much as he could. This time he would not wait for target acquisition, he had no microseconds to spare as he was working with a time deficit. He’d strafe the path of the missiles as he came up from under until he hit the torpedoes. At least that was his plan.

He much preferred to risk getting cooked by the JB’s engines than have the two missiles hit the ship!

No, these were NOT pirates or Imperials, that much was clear now. Whoever they were up against were an Elite force; either that, or they certainly fought like one. Which meant the Mercs would have to pull ALL the stops just to come out even, or push beyond their A-game if they wanted to come up on top.

That usually meant they needed a sacrifice play. Or one HECK of a TRICK up their collective sleeves.

Either way, this was simply the way of the universe. They way of the quick and the dead.


Tag: @Heavy Isotope, @Bravo, @Sith-I-5

 

IC: Aidan Dodd
Blood Moon, GL Pad, Algor - Cronese Mandate.

After a few seconds' pause I turn to Vacks; "You're not acting like a Ship-Navy man, Terrel, so I'm guessing you trained for ground combat. Take a long look at those clowns out there through my eyes; a bunch of relatively lightly-armed goons plus three anti-Infantry platforms. Not a heavy anti-Ship weapon among them. Then consider what we're sitting inside; a ship fitted with heavy armour, good anti-Ship weapons and strong shields; purpose-built to dish it out to larger ships in close action and take some return fire. Would you believe 'Skiprays' like this count as Capital Ships according to some classification systems? Imagine that, a Capital Warship twice the length of a snubfighter! Crazy, isn't it?

So, I think this may be a version of 'Reconnaissance by Guilty Conscience'; trying to provoke us into attempting a smart getaway or else tempting us to open fire - with that lot out there playing the role of Sacrificial Shaaks. Therefore, what we'll actually do is sit tight and wait them out.

Even if they start something we still have the advantage. 'Passepartout' can get the shields up in half a millisecond, our Ion Cannons'll deep-fry the troopers' nervous systems and.... have you ever seen a 'Chicken Walker' that's unexpectedly lost its footing? Highly amusing, watching the pilot attempting to recover control before it measures it's length on the ground! Unless one is that pilot, of course! Never got to play with the actual hardware while I was training to be a Stormtrooper, but Simulators are supposed to mimic the real vehicle exactly, are they not? What I'm trying to say is; a quick tug on each with the Tractor Beam and they should bite the dust nicely!

Mind you, I'm more than a little suspicious that the 'Plank' who's answering as 'AADM Control' right now is ISB. If so, ISB types aren't exactly known for their depth of Military knowledge, or for listening to those who actually do have some, so an ISB type might think that he'd deployed enough firepower to take us down! In that case, I'll have just three words to say to him; "Gar mirsh solus"! Means 'Your braincell's lonely'; only Mandalorian phrase I know, unfortunately!"


TAG: Intervention

 

IC: Terrel Vacks
Algor


"AADM Control, time to introduce myself a bit more formally, I think - I'm modest and trained to dislike standing too far out of the background - my updated Clearance Code transmitting now! For the record, that ISD will have already compromised any chance of my garnering prey-related information from the local Fringe just by inserting itself into orbit! That action may also have triggered a warning signal and precipitated a rapid bug-out response, something my prey is very well known for! I suggest you stand prepared to answer extremely searching questions from the Ubiqtorate when you're brought before them, as you will be; heads are quite likely to roll and mine won't be among them! I happen to know my Superiors really wanted to close the file on the target I was tracking!"

After a few seconds' pause I turn to Vacks; "You're not acting like a Ship-Navy man, Terrel, so I'm guessing you trained for ground combat. Take a long look at those clowns out there through my eyes; a bunch of relatively lightly-armed goons plus three anti-Infantry platforms. Not a heavy anti-Ship weapon among them. Then consider what we're sitting inside; a ship fitted with heavy armour, good anti-Ship weapons and strong shields; purpose-built to dish it out to larger ships in close action and take some return fire. Would you believe 'Skiprays' like this count as Capital Ships according to some classification systems? Imagine that, a Capital Warship twice the length of a snubfighter! Crazy, isn't it?

So, I think this may be a version of 'Reconnaissance by Guilty Conscience'; trying to provoke us into attempting a smart getaway or else tempting us to open fire - with that lot out there playing the role of Sacrificial Shaaks. Therefore, what we'll actually do is sit tight and wait them out.

Even if they start something we still have the advantage. 'Passepartout' can get the shields up in half a millisecond, our Ion Cannons'll deep-fry the troopers' nervous systems and.... have you ever seen a 'Chicken Walker' that's unexpectedly lost its footing? Highly amusing, watching the pilot attempting to recover control before it measures it's length on the ground! Unless one is that pilot, of course! Never got to play with the actual hardware while I was training to be a Stormtrooper, but Simulators are supposed to mimic the real vehicle exactly, are they not? What I'm trying to say is; a quick tug on each with the Tractor Beam and they should bite the dust nicely!

Mind you, I'm more than a little suspicious that the 'Plank' who's answering as 'AADM Control' right now is ISB. If so, ISB types aren't exactly known for their depth of Military knowledge, or for listening to those who actually do have some, so an ISB type might think that he'd deployed enough firepower to take us down! In that case, I'll have just three words to say to him; "Gar mirsh solus"! Means 'Your braincell's lonely'; only Mandalorian phrase I know, unfortunately!"

Vacks nodded, "So we sit and wait..." Vacks mauled the theory in his head, then said, "What if, instead, we run? All we need to worry about is any tractor beams planet-side and TIEs. We stay low enough and fly fast enough away, the base's turbolasers won't be able to touch us because of the angel of their firing arcs. We use the city scape to our advantage and bust out into the local landscape after that," Vacks brought up a local map of the city and pointed to a distant mountain top on the holo-map now floating in between them, "Here. Roughly fifteen thousand meters from here. Do you think we can make it? Once there, we'll be able to use that to our advantage, duck and hide in valley's and possible even find a cave. Then when this crisis rolls over, we can pop back out. Even a turbolaser strike from orbit would be hard pressed to find out location on a accurate strike. Just a thought. We're being pinned for a reason and I'd rather have that reason not involve more troops coming out to say hello. It's your ship. You know what she can and can't do."

Suddenly that dark, commanding voice came back over the comm, "AADM Control to Intelligence vessel, you will hold your landing position. Any adverse actions to this order and you will be fired upon. A liaison officer and inspection crew will be at your location in ten minutes for further orders. AADM Control clear."

"Liaison officer?" Terrel muttered, "That's odd. And clearly your rank and title didn't bother him. Okay Snake, your call. Do we run or play their cards and wait?"


TAG Tim Battershell

 

IC: Aidan Dodd
Blood Moon, GL Pad, Algor - Cronese Mandate.

"AADM Control to Intelligence vessel, you will hold your landing position. Any adverse actions to this order and you will be fired upon. A liaison officer and inspection crew will be at your location in ten minutes for further orders. AADM Control clear."

"Liaison officer?" Terrel mutters in response, "That's odd. And clearly your rank and title didn't bother him. Okay Snake, your call. Do we run or play their cards and wait?"

"Curious how he keeps harping on about us staying put, isn't it, Terrel, when we've made no move or indicated any intent to do otherwise?"; I reply; "Almost like he's wanting us to do the opposite! Well, Agamarians have a trait we term 'fixity of purpose' and off-worlders tend to call 'sheer bloody-mindedness', so I'm not about to oblige the mutt! Not to mention that attempting to do a flit implies guilt about something. Very poor tradecraft, that!

It'll be interesting to see what Rank and Security Clearance this Liaison Officer has, when he turns up. As for the Inspection Crew, you didn't load any Superweapon plans and/or a ton of Nergon 14 or Baradium aboard as part of your 'shopping list', by any chance? If not, we shouldn't have anything to worry about. In any case, we retain the option of 'scragging' the lot of them, if we need to - I've seen your unarmed combat skills in action and doubt your skills at armed combat are any less impressive. Just be sure to set for 'Stun' if you have to use your weapon, sweeping incidents under the rug is so much easier if corpses aren't involved!

I'm guessing, but maybe he's thinking I'm just some Ubiqtorate byte-pusher or go-fer, instead of what I actually am.... was, rather. Fits with him being ISB, same with the attitude. Really love to have him re-assigned to 'fresher-cleaning duty on Carida for the rest of his life; during 'Sickener' month the Cadets don't always make it all the way into a stall before they throw up! Vomit goes everywhere!. Could be arranged if your friends' leader agrees to running me as a double-agent. Either way, I know and accept that I'm not going to be even partially trusted for a very long time.... not with my history!"


TAG: Intervention

 

IC: Yavscout, Ronnie, April, Wa Yay, Jityar, Andrew Monk, Johnny Boy
Location: near Draukyse


Yav looked over the command deck safety railing at the urgent shout from below.

"Brace for impact! Four foxes on close approach!"

Foxes? that's missiles, right? Yav wondered as he looked round quickly and leapt for the nearest stanchion to support himself. In SGIS terminology, space-borne missiles were referred to as 'toxic darts'.

Intense bright light flared outside the bridge ports, causing some crew to lean away with heads turned, and throw up forearms to their eyes.

"Report! Did the shields hold!" He yelled.

He knew the Johnny Boy had, as ordered by himself earlier, rolled upside-down, to present her now-shielded side towards the debris field, and which had, before this sudden attack, been hovering about fifty percent strength.
The other side of the ship was at just ten percent shield strength.

"Shields held just fine sir." Ronnie called up. "The CAP dealt with them before they impacted, so we just had some radiation wash over us; no prob' for the shields."

Yavscout released a heavy sigh of relief, and let go of the stanchion, giving the cold metal a friendly pat, then listened as a comlink call came in from elsewhere inside the ship.

"Security Unit 12 here. We need a change in the environmental contr-"

KA-KABOOM!!

The elf ducked with a grimace at the sound that drowned out the crewman's words, and staggered a couple of steps, at the shuddering that rippled the deck, stunned bees audibly crunching under his boots. "What the frag was that?" He knew, but the question had to be asked.

"Wa Yay here, Commander. We had holocams on the explosion. It was the Siera Trasks entity. She's gone, Commander."

"What, did she explode?"

"Affirmative. I'm afraid so." The Gossam's voice sounded tired.

Yav knew how she felt. Trasks had been a Pilot Officer, like he had been, not too long ago.
Another Corellian that The Organisation had failed to protect.
It wasn't their job. It was my job.

"Commander?" Wa Yay again, probably concerned at his silence.

Yav shook the negativity away; they couldn't afford it right now. "If these fragging things are exploding, our best bet with Crewman Franks, or whatever he is now, is to space the fragger."

Another voice interrupted over his helmet speakers, before he could hear back from the Chief Petty officer.

"Bridge, this is Crewman Timothy Waters."

"Crewman Timothy Waters." Yavscout echoed incredulously.

The new caller had been with the Mercs so long, he was like a piece of the furniture. And just about as useful during a crisis.

The elf recalled going over personnel lists with Jase, not long after joining him as a senior Johnny Boy' officer.

"Frank has been dealt with," Waters continued, "area secured. Medical assistance dispatched to our Level Three location, Crew Quarters, for Hover and Warrant.."

Yav caught the past tense to the mention about medical assistance, so took that to mean the man had called medbay direct, and thought no more about it. The man had also been such a useless streak of p-...fluid..., since Yav had been with the Mercs, both undercover and as a free agent, that he did not consider for a moment that Waters had dealt with the suborned crewman, his darn self. He probably left his cabin to ask Hover and Warrant to keep the noise down.
"You did something useful? You alright, do you wanna lie down?" He asked.

"Crewman Waters out."

Well, that killed that convo.

"Commander!" April's voice, from below. "Specter advises two missiles coming from hard astern, and suggests full engine thrust!"

"Oh sith!" Yav looked down at the Helm Station, to Jityar 'Drums' Ba'tar. "Mr Drums!"

"On it! Engaging emergency thrust."

"As the actress said to the bishop," Andrew Monk chimed in, under his breath.

The Gungan turned to his controls, stabbing three buttons in sequence, resulting in an audible feeling of power throughout the decks, and the ship noticeably moving forwards. "Two engines at full power, Commander. The third is still offline."

"Collision course!" Andrew Monk chimed in, urgently. "We'll plough straight through the debris field!"

The elf spun to look out the forward ports, and sure enough, the irregular shapes that made that portion of the starfield grey-white, was expanding fast as they were propelled towards it. "Bow Shields! Fire at will! Clear us a path."

"Belay that!" Wa Yay piped across the bridge speakers from Astrometrics. "The Captain is in there, along with the Speedy Trial."

"Frag sith!" Yav balled a fist and slammed the top of the safety railing. "Evasive action, Mister Monk. Steer course for Holding Sector MG-7."

"MG-7? Where's that?!" Andrew sounded anxious.

"Right and up, Mister Monk. Right and up. I don't want us to hit anything, but if we have to, let it be on our shielded side."

"As ordered!"

* * * *
Space

From the outside, as the Johnny Boy was upside down, relative to all of its launched vessels, to present its shielded side to the already detected threats, it would appear to be diving towards the lower reaches of the debris field, whilst to those aboard her, she was heading over and the the right of it.

Equally, as the vessel was upside down, it was the two AG-2G quad-laser turrets on the underside of her tail section that pounded crimson plasma fire after the enemy starfighter that had dropped the two missiles.

One turret fell silent, instead carefully tracking the hostile in case it came around for another pass.

Tag: greyjedi125, Bravo, Heavy Isotope, Bardan_Jusik

 

OOG: I am using the creation of Legends by Disney/Lucasfilm to further a storyline plot in the AU holdings. Since Imperial Intelligence's Expand Universe (Legends) existence has not been confirmed in the new canon, I am using this to the game's advantage at the moment. I am simply "moving" Armand Isard's death five months later then it actually happened in EU. So not that big of a AU edit, but enough to warrant a OOG notice on the subject. I do believe the Imperial QR page has the latest (and soon to be all standard for the game) AU/EU/Canon policy for Intervention / Echoes.

@Sith-I-5, the Imperial side of the storyline is now open for your creative insights! I will be using the Ysanne Isard character here and there to flush out the Imperial side of events.

---

IC: Ysanne Isard
Two days prior to present events, Imperial Intelligence Headquarters, Coruscant





"No hard feelings," Ysanne spoke softly as she stepped over her father's dead corpse, Armand Isard, as blood pulled from his head as he lay face down on the floor. She holstered the weapon in her hip holster; the weapon she personally chose for the execution: Yctor Arms' black-powder pistol, "It's just business."

Ysanne walked over to her desk and sat down.



Ahead of her, two Imperial Imperial Royal Guardsmen flanked a trembling Commander Jeprid as he was forced to watch the execution of Armand Isard, who laid in his own blood just feet before him.

"Now Commander," Ysanne spoke all too coolly for just killing her own father, "You were here to meet my father about a concern you had. Please, continue your report to me. The new Director of Imperial Intelligence."

Jeprid swallowed the not in his throat, "Well Director," he said, his throat suddenly dry with dread, "As I was saying before, I had a man acting in the name of Imperial Intelligence. But everything about him seemed off."

"How so?" Ysanne asked, putting her elbows on the table as her laced finger supported her chin. She smiled, like a black widow ready for the kill.

And Jeprid knew it. His heart raced.

"His Sergeant with him,. ma'am," Jeprid said, trying to calm his heart-beat, "His armor was Storm Commando. But the insignia on the armor...it wasn't anything Imperial data-banks had when I searched. And whether Imperial Intelligence or not, ma'am, when I did a ISB Most Wanted...the insignia came up as part of the mercenary organization known as the Mercs. Last I heard, Imperial forces were in a firefight with them on Port Haven."

"Most interesting," Ysanne said, sitting back in her father's former chair and crossing one leg over the other as she opened a drawer in the desk and pulled out a bottle of red wine and a glass. She poured a glass and set the bottle on the table and picked up the glass, swirling the wine around gently; she looked at it for a moment as it swirled, then smirked to a private thought of her's, and took a sip. She put the glass back down on the table and looked at Jeprid and smiled, "Commander, they say that red wine is good for the heart. And like red wine, certain other things are good for the heart. The heart runs the body and if we keep the heart in good shape, the body will run much better. Do you agree, Commander?"

The man nodded nervously, "Yes, ma'am."

"Well," she picked up the glass and took another sip of wine and looked at him with a smile, "Consider me red wine and you something harmful to the body."

Jeprid's eyes went big and he started to protest, but he felt a strong sting to his lower back and as he fell to the ground in a crumbled heap, the Imperial Royal Guard standing over him with his Force Pike out in the attack, he couldn't feel his legs. He went to open his mouth over to have the Royal Guard left his boot and smash his voice box, rendering him coughing up blood but unable to speak. He looked back towards the desk and watched as Ysanne coolly walked his way, the glass in her hands as she took another sip of wine. He went for his sidearm, only for the other Imperial Royal Guard's Force Pike to go through his wrist, pinning his wrist to the floor and the blaster pistol falling from his bloodied hand.

He screamed but no sound came out but a mouthful of blood from his crushed throat!

The Royal Guardsmen withdrew his Force Pike from his wrist! In a last desperate move, he started pulling himself away towards the exit blast doors in a last desperate animistic action of survival instinct, blood from his wrist and mouth marking his trail. One Royal Guardsmen stayed by the deceased body of Armand Isard, while the other shadowed him like a predator hunting it's prey!

Suddenly a booted foot came smashing down on his one good hand and he looked up to see Ysanne standing over him, taking a sip from her glass of wine, "I'm sorry," she finally said with a smile, "But you simply know too much now. The heart must feel well again" she nodded off to the distance.

Jeprid cranked his head upwards to try to see from his crawling position and his mouth and eyes went wide as the Royal Guardsmen Force Pike came smashing down on his head!

Ysanne looked at the dead body for a moment longer as the Royal Guardsmen withdrew his Force Pike from the man's head. She started walking towards her father's desk, this time walking around his dead body. She depressed a button her father's desk as she walked past it, the holoscreen behind her desk replacing that imagine of the galaxy with the imagine of two men aboard a space station.

"I want all classified files my father was working on before his death," she ordered the Guardsmen as she looked at the screen with her back to them, "Both data and paper. And I want to have a list of all active Adjustments agents," she looked with narrowed eyes at the security footage of the supposed "agent" and a person wearing Storm Commando armor being his "Sergeant" from the space depot the Commander had once ran, "And their missions. Immediately."


TBC

 

OOC- I'll get to this soon; I've had a CRAZY few weeks at work. I'm heading to LA in two weeks then the week after out to Philly and Boston. blech.