Star Wars OPEN Star Wars: Black Sheep (Always Accepting New Players)

~OOC~ Thank you Addie, once again this was a joint effort and was a pleasure to write Side note, Addie says she "is really sorry and really embarrassed that she is involved so much." but I think that's a great thing.

~IC~ Captain Cassell “Skipper” Wystari, Flight Officer Amber “Vixen” Tehanis and (guest starring) Flight Officer Nib Nombunn
Location: Intrepid - Hangar - Valkyria
Prior to take off and departing the Intrepid

When the Captain entered the cockpit, he found the Sullustan was already there making himself comfortable in the copilot seat. He shook his head and held his tongue, it would take something to get used to. Nombunn turned around and gave an inquisitive look and asked if everything was okay.

The Corellian just nodded and waved him off. "Yeah, whatever. No pressure. I'm going to be watching you every step of the way so let's see what you are capable of..."

---

Amber made her way up to the cockpit with trepidation, totally unsure as to what or why Cassell wanted to speak to her about. "Arh, hey? You wanted to see me?"

Cassell was standing behind Nombunn, observing the Sullustan putting his beloved ship through the start up sequence. He turned around as he heard Amber's voice and nodded.

"Come in, ah…" He waved her in and then frowned. He inclined his head in the direction of the Sullustan while arching his brows to Amber as to say he cannot talk just yet. "This just be a moment…" He gestured down the aisle to the pilot's chair stationed infront of the copilot's position. "I'll let you have the front seat."

Cautiously following his instructions she squeezed past and lowered herself into the over sized seat. Immediately she noticed how soft if was and began to sink into it comfortably. Turning she watched the Sullustan continue his start up sequence while she waited silently still very unsure as to why she was there at all.

There was a purr and then a thrumming as the ship woke up, its systems coming on in the proper sequence. "Very good…" Cassell remarked under his breath. Despite his misgivings, the Sullustan seems to know his way around the console. "Flight plan… good… check the inertia dampeners in the rest of the ship…" The last thing he wanted was everyone thrown about. Satisfied it was set to a level where no one should feel a thing, he pressed down on the button for the internal p.a. "Attention, this is your Captain speaking. We are clear for take off."

Outside the viewport, everything shifted as the ship rose up gently on repulsars. "Easy does it." He murmured as Nombunn turned the ship to face the MagCon field and took them across the hangar and out into the void of space. Once they were clear, He patted the Sullustan on the shoulder. "Okay, well done. Go get yourself a caff in the galley or something. Amber, would you like anything?"

Gazing out at the starfield she suddenly felt at home again and didn't turn when spoken too. "No, thanks."

Cassell smiled and made room for the Sullustan to get past him. "We've got the rest. You can handle the next jump. There's a few more to go." He assured him and then closed the door behind. He took a deep breath and let out the stress he had pent up. He looked over to the pilot's chair and the back of Amber's head and the star field beyond the viewport. For a moment, with the red hair, she could almost be someone else… this could be another time and place… he pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. All in the past, forget it.

He stepped down the aisle and stood beside the chair and folded his arms. "Look to the centre of the dash, to the right… there… that controls the pitch… take us a few degrees up."

She spun to him, "WHAT?"

He let out a good natured chuckle and winked. "You're in the pilot's seat, Capt'n."

She gave him a look of shock and disbelief, before glancing at the console and back to him. "Are you serious?"

"We just need to move a klick or two away from the Intrepid but our jump point should be where…" he point at the starfield overhead. "...that twinkling blue star is."

She was still in shock and disbelief when she turned to controls and did as he asked. "Taking her up three degrees." she said as she executed the move glancing up toward the star he'd pointed at. "Continuing for two klicks. I have to ask, why am I here Captain?" She glanced back at him "I mean I can feel how much this ship means to you, why me?"

He opened his mouth and then pursed his lips and then nodded. "You've been through a rough patch lately with your injuries. I wanted to know if you are okay... and…" He shrugged. "...I thought it might be a treat for you to be the one to take us to lightspeed for this first jump and a chance to talk."

She listened and gave a nod. "I'm fine, well ok anyway. Thank you." She turned to look at him, "Really, thank you. I've not been the friendliest person on the team, but you have been." She turned back to face the field. "Are the co-ords set?"

"You're welcome." He glanced over to the console. "They are set and just recalibrating based on our our vector. When that counter ticks down to zero in a few moments then we are set to go." He then pointed to the levers at the top of the console. "Then with a hand, grab those two and squeeze together and pull them to you and easy."

She nodded, similar to another ship she'd flown back home a few years back. Reaching forward she watched the counter and when it hit zero she performed the move in one smooth movement. Starlines formed outside the ship as it jolted ever so slightly into hyperspace. Once there she glanced down and released the levers gently so they moved apart again, a smile on her lips.

"Perfect." He whispered praise.

"So now what?" She asked without turning, she felt comfortable here.

"Well.. there's a few things I wanted to run by you... I mean... we can go over some of the controls if you wish, our covers for the mission... or... about the other day if you are comfortable about that."

There it was. "The other ....day?" she asked hesitantly. "Not sure what you mean." She said evenly without looking at him, she could feel her cheeks flushing, she wasn't a good liar when it came to her self.

He tilted his head as he regarded her. "Your hands were bandaged and you had fallen over. We've... overwhelmed you with concern... and caused you anxiety. There was a mag pulse like disruption."

"Is that what they are calling it?"

"That's what I explained to them what it was... and no one has proven otherwise."

She considered his words, and the implication that he knew it was more than that. "But you think differently…." she conceded. "And you'd be right." She slumped slightly, the earlier joy gone.

"I've only speculations…" He paused as he registered what she had said. "Oh. I best let you..um... say."

She sighed as she had no idea how to put it into words, but she decided that starting two generations ago was a good point. "My grandmother was an apprentice to a Jedi Knight, I was told. Mum said I didn't have the gift, but I've always been able to predict things when I'm calm, and I've had dreams that have come true." She paused and picked a bit of fluff off her pants. "When I was around fifteen, after my parents died, I was ........well a bit emotional and there were a few times when in a temper......I moved things." She looked up at him. "Mum lied. " she stated with a good deal of sadness. "And she left me to figure this out myself. The only thing she did leave me was a box. I opened it before I left home and I retrieved its contents before I boarded today." She looked down. "It was my grandmother's Lightsaber." She waited for his reaction.

Wystari placed his hand on the back of the pilot's chair. A million thoughts raced through his mind: What her family must had been through... That she is still young and would be frightened as these abilities manifests themselves… That there is no one to show her how to live with them. That there is a danger there but also a hope. the main thing he felt was concern for her safety.

"Thank you," he said softly. "Thank you for entrusting me with your secret."

"Secret. I guess that's what it is right now." she said quietly. "It scares me." She looked up at him. "I don't know how to control it or how to make it work............like make it happen on purpose." She shrugged. "It might be useful if I could....I might be useful."

"Amber, you already are useful." He knelt down beside the chair and looked her in the eyes. "Don't ever forget that. I can only imagine what you must be feeling and experiencing… and you don't have to go through this alone."

She gave him a sad smile, he was so much like her late father. "But I kinda do, there aren't any Jedi left and there's no one out there to teach me." Turning to the console she scanned the readings to make sure they were stable. "I heard about a guy in the Rebellion who has a lightsaber too, but don't even know who it is. I just have to figure this thing out, figure myself out." She sat back and looked at him "Changing the subject, are you all in for this terrorist act?"

He was about to say further but she caught him off guard with the subject change and the bluntness about it. "First of all, if you need anyone to talk to about it, I'm always available." He gave a warm smile. "And as for what you called it," His smile faltered. "No. Goes against my principles and morals." He shook his head. "To be honest, what was presented to us… I think they don't know what they're doing and this is the best they could come up with in the time they have. It stinks of desperation… and that says a lot." He sighed and glanced out to the shadow dimension of hyperspace. "Having said that, there is more at work than meets the eye here and we haven't consider all the angle yet. On the surface, seems counterproductive to the core of what the Alliance stands for. It will be up to us all to work out and decide what is best for the Alliance."

She listened to him, and he might be right maybe there was more at work, the idea the Rebellion leadership would do this seemed wrong on so many levels. "I can't do it." She confessed. "It's different when they are shooting at me, or on a Star Destroyer or any other kind of ship. They fire back, we fight. But this isn't that. This is cold and reeks of terrorism. It's fine line and they're crossing it." She hoped she might be able to convince him to help her, Ethan and Ianna to change the course of this mission.

"You don't have to tell me twice. The last war was easier when all we were up against were mostly droids. Though shame how some species got a bad rap like the Nosaurians and Quarrens because of a few individuals had sided with the Seppies... but look what happened to us? The Republic became an Empire and now I guess we're the Seppies…" He sighed. "As I said earlier to everyone, we don't know the complete picture... and only when we are there, then we can assess what really is going on and take it from there. I hope our friend can help shed some light before we arrive."

She nodded slowly and made fists with her hands as she considered her next words carefully.
"You know, there might be another way?"

TAG: Open

 

OOC: This is a joint post between me @Bardan_Jusik, @Vehn and @Sarge221 Thank you for it, it was fun!

IC: Jocelyn “Joy” Sunwalker, Louise "Lou" Gray, Arick "Boss" Flagg, Kardon “Grin” Durham
Location: Otoh Gunga, Chommel Sector

Jocelyn had never expected that she would set foot on a Lucrehulk. She had seen the huge ships in holos during the Clone Wars. The closest she had been was during the last big battle of the war, when the Separatists blockaded Coruscant. She remembered the falling debris and sheer panic. It all seemed to have been lost, the Chancellor abducted, the Jedi trying to stop the enemy. But this was a different war now, hopefully one that will end after this mission, or at least bring them to a conclusion of sorts.

She looked at Lou, trying to gauge her feelings about the mission given the opinion she had expressed earlier. Joy mostly agreed with the sentiments so she was going to perform as best as possible. Only thing concerned her was the disguise. If Anais was there or some of the other former squadron mates she would be discovered thus rendering her a liability to the mission. She needed a better disguise.

Joy eyed Flagg and the new guy as they were walking towards the more private area where they could check on the uniforms and decided to ask the question that had been gnawing her "Commander Flagg, sir, I am sorry for prying, but does any of you have prior Imperial experience?"

Flagg looked at Joy, a stern look on his face. "Me?" He questioned her even before he gave his own answer. "No," he finally said through a scowl. "Before the rebellion I was a cop and militia pilot back on Dantooine." He didn't go into it any further. Most of his time had been spent flying patrol gunships for the local constabulary. His militia work was done on the weekends as a reserve officer. He'd never been a member of the Imperial military, but didn't see how it mattered either, though the Bothan did raise a furred eyebrow at the answer while muttering something under his breath.

Durham had maintained a mask of stoicism ever since the end of the briefing and had followed in silence, his facial expression hardly ever changing since the journey to the LucreHulk and, now, their path to what would be their disguises. He was relieved of his kit bag at the very least, having been assured that it would be delivered to his quarters once they were assigned, but was still dressed in his dark green flight suit, missing the helmet. Joy's inquiry encouraged something, a shifting of his eyes over in her direction before they went to Flagg, listening to his brief background.

Feeling that the question was for him to take as well, Kardon answered, "Eight months of Imperial flight school, first stationed on the Ahriman, then transferred to the Abyssal. Star Destroyers." Had things turned out differently, he would've graduated in another month. Still, it was plenty enough time to integrate into the strict and formal doctrine of the Empire. Enough, he was sure, to act like an officer of the Imperial Navy at some reception.

Jocelyn thought about Flagg's answer. So law enforcement, that was close enough, but still she was not sure he would fit the role of an Imperial, though his demeanour was pretty close. It seems Wellings chose them for their background and Flagg had to oversee them. He was the closest to an Imperial, aside of the Mandalorian, they had. She was thankful that Ianna was not assigned to their group as the Kid was too good to play the part and would not be convincing.

Jocelyn looked at Lou and tried to give her a signal that she should step in too, after all she was the second in command in their group. After all it was not the Sergeant's place to tell the officers whether or not they will be able to play the role of an Imperial or not. She then shifted her attention to Durham.

"Oh? Which school? I graduated from Coruscant and Lieutenant Grey from Carida." she felt awkward being so chatty but she needed to assess the new guy. It was an Imperial way to judge the person's skills from where he was trained or stationed, but it was fairly accurate, with a few exceptions of course.

Lou didn't waste any time stepping forward at Joy's invitation. She listened while Durham spoke about his own Imperial experiences. They sounded,partially, like her own.

"Our covers need to be air tight and so do the uniforms. If there's one thing I learned in the Empire it's that an improper uniform is the fastest way to catch heat."

"Flagg, with all due respect, I should take point on this mission. I know we may run into old friends but I can navigate our way through this with minimal casualties."

"We need to see the uniforms first. I don't want my cover blown by a storm trooper or curious officer," Lou replied

"There wasn't a school," Kardon clarified while digesting the extra information. Coruscant, Carida; the Imperial Capital and the center to one of the more famous Imperial Academies respectively. Different from his own experience, which he told now. "I was put through a two-month basic training course and then assigned to a training squadron aboard the Ahriman." Most flight schools, from his understanding, tended to be aboard Star Destroyers save for the exceptions - Carida and Coruscant being two, obviously. The Empire preferred their hands-on training curriculum, including transferring training squadrons between Star Destroyers as he had done. "I would've graduated in another month aboard the Abyssal but that was when I defected and picked up by a local rebel cell. I was able become a pilot for the Rebellion afterwards."

Flagg nodded along as everyone gave their own history as it related to Imperial service. Seemed they had all actually served the Empire in some way shape or form. Save him, but his militia experience was close enough. They should be able to pull this off, depending on the uniforms available.

He looked at Lou, nodding his understanding that she want to take point, though he didn't cede anything yet. Like her he wanted to see the uniforms first. Following a still silent Frogfoot they left the promenade deck and made their way to short term living quarters. "I've arranged these for you and your squadron. You won't be here long enough to stay in them, but they can provide a base of operations for the short duration you're here." He keyed the entry pad and led them inside. "I've scanned these for listening devices and they are clear." Flagg just nodded, wondering briefly if they could trust the Bothan spy before realizing that it didn't matter. They really had no choice, they all nodded and Flagg closed and locked the doorway behind them as the Bothan went to the closet and removed four sets of clothing which he lay on the bed. "Four Imperial officer's uniforms, as promised." Flagg cocked his head to one side at the layout and sighed loudly. They had a problem.

"This is a problem," Kardon stated, unintentionally voicing Flagg's thoughts. He had taken a step forward, examining the Imperial uniforms as they were laid out on the bed, checking the tags and lifting the sleeves of the larger male uniform.

He knew it was too much to hope for uniforms of the Imperial Navy which would suit him best so seeing the uniforms of different branches didn't bother him. However, he had recognized immediately that the MP uniform would be too small, and despite being slightly above average himself in terms of height, the Imperial Army uniform that he was looking at was somehow proving to be too large. He let go, letting the sleeves drop back onto the bed.

"Neither is going to fit me," he explained. "I'll stand out in a gathering like that." An important wedding with such prominent officers and aristocrats expected to attend, with the possibility of the Emperor himself? Whether these do manage to get them to bypass whatever security they have stationed there, wearing a too large or too small uniform was going to make him stick out like a sore thumb, and if there was anything he knew well enough in his near-year of his Imperial training, uniformity and the obsession that Imperial officers had for it ranked pretty high in the Empire, punishments coming down hard on any recruits that were not immaculately dressed. Eyes, he expected, would be drawn on someone like him during such a high profile gathering with any of the attending officers that would be of higher rank to his no doubt more than willing to give him a stern talking to about his state of dress and making a show of it.

When he defected, he had done so with his own Imperial uniform but he had turned that in to the Rebellion. No doubt they had wanted it for any possible infiltration efforts that may come in the future. The irony concerning the current situation was not lost on him.

"This is all we have?" he asked, directing his question to the Bothan. Just because he identified the problem, if there wasn't a solution or some alternative, there was nothing he could do about it. If he had to go in dressed in an oversized or undersized uniform, then what other choice did he have?

The Bothan nodded, at first confused by the pilot's reaction. It took him a moment to realize that one uniform was too small for the man, and the other human male as well, instead having been fitted for one much shorter than either of them. While, the disdainful lifting and tossing aide of the sleeve of the other showed a uniform meant for an being far more rotund than the obviously very fit rebels. Who knew the Empire had let their physical fitness standards lapse for non combatant roles?

"This is all we have," he sounded irritated now. Amateur operations indeed. "I wasn't given sizes beforehand!" He bared his fangs in challenge to the furless human. "Surely there is some way for you to make do with these?"

Lou felt as if she was coming home seeing the Imperial uniforms in all their starched, folded, and unrepentant glory. She flashed back to her days on Carida and mastering the art of Imperial protocol and the high responsiveness of the TIE fighters. She'd graduated basic flight school but when entering into the more advanced fighters, such as the Interceptor, she'd been scrubbed by her ex-husband, Dietryk. He'd come down hard on her, physically and emotionally, and the two were now on opposite ends of the shooting war.

Lou's service to the Empire had lasted three years. Much of that had been in support roles around the Academy and she remembered begging her husband to get behind the cockpit of a TIE. He'd finally caved and then ultimately reneged when he could see that her skills with the yoke would've put her directly into the line of fire and out of his life, forever. Ironically, that was precisely what happened as he attempted to control her. The more he tightened his grasp the more she wanted to flee. One day she did flee and deep into Rebel space. Her TIE uniform was most likely reacquired by the Empire when they combed the secret Rebel base on Yavin IV after the Death Star attack.

Her attention returned to the uniforms. She reached inside her pocket and pulled out a small vibro knife and needle. She coughed to catch the attention of Flagg and Kardan. "I can hem up the larger uniform. Before I joined the Empire, before I became what I am now, I grew up on the frontiers of Roon. I know a lot about making do with very little and my mother taught me to sew at a young age. I can make that larger uniform work and do any modifications to the others, within reason."

Kardon had stared blankly at the Bothan's bared fangs, unperturbed at the alien's aggravation. It was only at Lou's interjection that the pilot switched over to her and nodded slowly. "If you can get the larger one fitted without making it too obvious then it should be fine. We'll still be a uniform short though." He had noticed that the smaller uniform wasn't going to fit Flagg either.
Joy looked at the uniforms. She was sure she will be getting the Ensign one given Lou's recent promotion as it will be strange if an Ensign gave orders to a Lieutenant to say the least.

"Any make up or other disguises that we can use?" she turned to the Bothan and Flagg.

Flagg looked at the Bothan as they shrugged simultaneously. "We'll have to wait and see what Pallas and her group can scrounge up." Flagg finally said. Looking back to Lou he asked her. "Is there anything you can do for the smaller uniform?"

"I might be able to take a few pieces from the larger uniform here," Lou replied examining the material, "and extend the tunic sleeve length or the pant length a bit to allow for more room on the MP uniform. I don't have everything I need to make the shoulder width more accommodating but I noticed that the other uniforms are designed for women. That actually give me something to work with. Honestly, for all the Empire's talk of High Human culture and men being so important they always had one fatal flaw in their uniform design: their uniforms were rather unisex in design. Generic, uniform, for lack of a better word."

"Sure, men and women have different body shapes but the pants could be swapped out to get a better fit for you Kardon. Joy and I seem to have similar body styles so its not like we won't be without. I'm not particularly, uh," Lou paused thinking of how to say her next words, "biologically gifted in the chest area so I could wear any one of these tunics. It appears that the female tunic, whoever wore them, was of an athletic build and with a bit of reconfiguring I might be able to make those work for either one of you. I know that only gives us four uniforms and I can't promise they'll be a perfect fit but hopefully we won't be at this wedding for too long. Give me a few minutes with these and I can work wonders."

Flagg mulled it over for a moment. "All right, that sounds like our best option." He looked to Lou, a stern look on his face. "Get it done."

Lou nodded and immediately went to work. Old skills returned and her hands flew across the uniforms as she hastily adjusted their sizing. She surprised herself with how quickly the knowledge came back to her. It'd been decades, to say the least, since she'd last done this kind of work. Old memories of sitting on the covered porch of the family home of Tesserone on Roon with her grandmother came back to her. Memories she'd long since suppressed. Memories she'd long since hidden away.

She was done.

Lou stepped back and admired her handiwork. The job, to the naked eye, was perfect. From her seasoned experience, she'd missed a few places. Still, the uniforms were more than serviceable. She slipped one of the tunic's on over her clothes and showed off the fit. It was professional. It was suitable. It was very Imperial.

"Anyone else want to try one of these on?"

Kardon silently reached over and retook the once too-large uniform once Lou was done. Stepping off to a corner where a mirror was present, he unclipped and removed the life support box, followed by the flake vest, before finally unzipping his flight suit and setting it and the gloves and boots aside. It was quickly replaced by the pants and, soon enough, the tunic.

Unconsciously the pilot found himself standing a tad straighter upon working the buttons, fastening the tunic tight. He had never done this with his flight suit or whatever else he wore in the Rebellion, but the sight and feel of the Imperials uniform and its ranks and awards had his spine stiffening and shoulders locking back. His chin, which he raised upon fastening the collar, remained so when he did the final work of smoothing down any wrinkles and other imperfections, hands smoothing and patting the material down before they eventually fell back to his sides to leave him standing in a perfected posture without a sign of neglect.

He nodded in approval - whether to the uniform or his own appraisal of his stance was anyone's guess -, and soon commented, "A good fit." He broke the image to do quick stretches of his arms and legs, taking any note of where the uniform may be pulling and stopping when he was satisfied. "This'll do."

Joy picked her uniform unsure whether she should proceed and try it on given the demographics. She did not have any qualms against that but the others might object. "So... should we change here or everyone should find a secluded place?"

Kardon looked over his shoulder and shrugged, offering a noncommittal, "Up to you", before reverting back to the mirror. As it was quite plain here, he had no reservations about changing in the same room as others.

Jocelyn shrugged and moved away then started unzipping her flight suit and kicked her boots. It did not take long to be in her underwear and tank top. Putting on the Imperial uniform brought back many memories the feel of the material, the cold and utilitarian aesthetics. In a sense she had missed it all.

After she was done with the pants and tunic she bent to put on the boots. These were always hard to put on, but she managed. She tucked the down part of the pantaloons in and huffed as she stood up to take them for a "spin" as comfortable boots were essential to any mission. These would do for now, hopefully won't be stuck in them for too long.

With a quick gesture she reached and started tying her hair. It was essential as the Empire did not allow for long hair to stick out under the caps. She made a simple, but a durable knot. Then took the cap and put it on slowly. The finishing touches were the gloves.

Joy adopted the neutral-arrogant facial expression used by many Imperial officers "So how do I look?" she asked in a strong Coruscanti accent.

"Very Imperial," Lou replied as she herself had changed into her designated Imperial uniform.

It felt good to be back in Imperial dress. It was as if she were coming home. The Alliance was the side she was fighting on now but if things had gone differently with the Empire, well, she would've fought for them and her life would've turned out very differently.

"We look the part," Lou added, "and I think we'll damn well act the part."

She examined her uniform, properly tucked and arrayed in Imperial fashion, in the mirror. She tied her hair back as well. It wasn't that long but there were protocols to follow in the Empire. She gave herself a sharp nod. She was back.

"What do you think, Flagg?"

Flagg watched with a critical eye as the Black Sheep slowly transformed into Imperials before his eyes. At first he was unsure that this would work, and after seeing the uniforms he had become certain that it would not work. Now though, seeing a trio of Imperial officers before him, his confidence in the mission started to grow. He took the last uniform, the MPs, and quickly changed into it. He was a slender man, narrow shouldered, so the alterations made to it didn't have to be drastic, it was still a little snug, but manageable.

"What do you think, Flagg?" Lou asked. The Commander now in a major's uniform turned to her slowly, nodding his head. "This is going to work."

TAG: Anyone

 

(This shopping interlude brought to you by @Adalia-Durron and myself, enjoy.)

IC: Ianna Mcear Amber Tehanis
The Otoh Gunga

Ianna watched dispassionately as Taab demonstrated how the explosives worked. It was horrifying and somewhat eye opening. Even once the bombs were armed they could still be turned off. Maybe she and Ethan could use that to their advantage. Let the others plant them, then go in behind and turn them off. It wasn't any worse than what she had thought up before.

The trip was kinda a blur after that, until they arrived at the station, she didn't really look outside the view ports. When they landed a they were hit with yet more information. Information that just made everything more difficult. Stormtroopers would be present, a lot with a lot more just a call away. Whatever they were going to do they needed to do it quick.

The last thing was getting a hold of proper attire for a party. Their contact Frogfoot which Ianna had to chuckle at, hadn't gotten anything like that together but, he did have a few credits he could supply to help.

Well it was a start.

She broke off with her group the guests of the party. Looking around she felt a little nervous. She'd never been to an event like this, one where she had to dress in fancy clothes. The closest thing was a sundress she wore for a summer wedding for a close family friend. It was the furthest thing from an Imperial event. It was daunting, if she didn't dress appropriately she might blow the cover or not be let in.

Another sweep of her group there was only one other girl, Amber...maybe she knew about this kind of stuff. Sheepishly the young woman approached redhead.

"Um…" she started bringing her gaze up from the deck. "Amber...Do you think you could help me pick out a dress?" She fiddled with her braid to give her hands something to do, "I...I don't really know what to wear for these things. Not a lot of call for fancy dresses on a farm."

Amber had been looking at the prices and cringing when she heard Ianna's request. Turning to the young woman she smiled, still not comfortable with the act but getting better.

"Sure. I saw what people wore to my own wedding, it was pretty posh, we can do this." She'd only told the truth, her own wedding had been a very formal affair due to her late parents wealth, at the time she'd had no idea how much his father had spent, but when it became clear she only knew it was a huge waste. "The prices here are insane." She added in a lower tone as she pulled her datapad out of her duffel on her shoulder and began to tap at the screen. "I am sure we can do this cheaper." A few moments later she gave a nod. "Thought so, there's a second hand fashion place in one of the smaller streets. Sure we can find more affordable stuff there."

Ianna's face got a quizzical looking hearing Amber mention her own wedding. At first the Chandrilan was a little confused, Amber looked a little young for that but, maybe she was older than she looked. She certainly appeared far more mature than Ianna, who could easily be mistaken for an early teen if someone wasn't looking hard enough. There was also the way she spoke about it, a 'posh' affair, did she come from money or was she marrying into it? Was she still married. Almost unconsciously Ianna looked for a ring, the typical way of showing one's status back home. She didn't see one. Maybe it was like Lou, her husband on the other side of the war.

Either way now did not seem like a good time to bring it up.

"That sounds good." She said a happy smile on her face, even if in the back of her mind she was still worried about the mission. There were too many people around to bring it up, who knows what ears the Empire had around here. "So, where you from?" she started, she'd never worked with Amber, haven't even really met her until a few hours ago. Getting to know her would be a good way to pass the time, to keep her thoughts off the deadly mission that lay before them. It wasn't a good feeling in her stomach, the team was pulled it four or five different directions and no one could agree. She patted the lighter in her pocket, if nothing else she had a plan...not a good one but, one she believed in.

"I'm from Chandrila myself." she offered giving of herself first.

Amber was already walking and reading directions on her data pad when Ianna said where she was from. Glancing up she gave a simple answer,.

"Bakura"

Home, it was a million light years away and it was a distant memory.

"Its in the outer Rim before you ask."

It'd been her experience that few had even heard of the place not ruled by Imperial forces but interestingly enough many had tasted the namana fruit the planet was mostly known for. An industry her father had gotten into and had brought them prosperity when the Empire came interestingly as all high ranking Imperials wanted the best of everything.

"Here we are." she announced a few moments later as she looked up at a rather dingy looking building that has seen better days. The sign on the dirty window read 'Specialising in that one off outfit for that Special Occassion.' She glanced at Ianna. "Let's hope what we need is here. What's your favorite colour?" She asked as she pushed the door open.

Ianna nodded her head, she'd heard of Bakura before, the Miners were from there. Though she couldn't really point it out on a map. It was an artifact of her somewhat simple upbringing. She was aware of the wider galaxy but, never really studied the map of the galaxy. Amber didn't really elaborate on her family or her home, then again, Ianna didn't really either. But, they were getting there, she'd soon have a new best friend.

"Hm..." She started looking up at the dingy shop sign. It didn't look like the most glamorous of places but, she was willing to give it a try. "Ah...Green and white...Patriot's colors," she answered with a smile, they where her favorite colors had been since her father took her to Stony End Park in Hana City. "You watch Limmie? Do you support the Miners?"

"Green? Huh?" she let Ianna step past before closing the door, "I like emerald green. Sometimes hard to match this." She said flicking her braid. Looking around she saw the room was full of racks and the racks were stuffed with gowns on one side and suits on the other. "Ah, so this is where fashion comes to die then?" she remarked as she began to peruse the gowns.

Ianna looked down as she crossed the threshold of the store. It seemed either Amber missed her question about Limmie or just chose to ignore it. It was no matter, she would ask again later. Looking around she was a little stunned at first, there were so many fancy gowns and suits all just crammed into racks. She didn't really notice Amber's comment about fashion but, she was becoming concerned. All the dresses she was seeing had either no straps, or very thin ones. And necklines that were indecent by her mother's standards.What worried her more was the amount of skin that was shone. It was hard to tell giving that she mostly wore clothes with sleeves but, the parts normally covered up by her clothes were, deathly pale, in stark contrast with her tanned skin gained over summers working in the sun.

"Do you think they have anything with sleeves?" she asked pawing through the racks, "I don't think my tan is really...um...flattering." Pulling up her sleeve she demonstrated what she meant pasty white flesh where the clothes covered and tanned skin where it didn't, the line was noticeable from orbit, or so she thought. Then there was finding something that fit her form, short and stocky. Most of these dresses seemed made for someone with a slimmer or curvy figures. Not her frame, one built more like a staga, than a willow. "Though I might have to take what I can get...It's not looking like I'm a common size."

Amber smiled as the young woman's comments.

"Back to your previous question, I don't watch or follow sport at all, sorry. And as for your skin not matching, I have no idea oh that front." Subconsciously she rubbed at the right side of her neck. "Looks like there's something for everyone, regardless of race, colour or creed."

"And you'd be correct Madam," Amber turned to see a shorter stout woman who looked to be in her 50's with long brown hair coiled up to a bun on her head, a twinkle in her brown eyes and a warm smile on her lips. "I am the owner of this store, Anna is my name, how can I help you two lovely creatures?"

Ianna looked at the metal deck under her feet. She felt just a little awkward hearing that Amber didn't really follow limmie much less sports in general. Looking back to the racks there might be something that fit her but, finding it was another matter. It was all a kaleidoscope colors and fabric, and she didn't know what she was looking for. Thankfully an older woman came to help/save them.

"Ah...yes we're looking for some dresses for an...event. We want to look our best but," she gave a side glace at Amber, "We have no idea what to look for." She gestured to herself, still shorter than the owner of the shop, "Especially for someone like me. I don't really look like a holo-star." Looking at her tanned arms, she continued. "I work for a living."

The woman gave a gentle smile.

"Salt of the earth beneath us child, that's what you are. Special and needed and natural. I Have the perfect thing for you!" She started to hurry away. Amber raised her hand.

"Um we're on a limited budget too, and we need to get something for our..." she hesitated for a split second,"Friends." Kayn a friend? That amused her.

The older woman turned and gave an exaggerated nod before diving into a rack and digging through.

"And we both like green!" Amber Added.

Ianna returned the smile following the kind older woman. That was the most amount of complements she'd ever received in a single breath. There was a thought that it was just to butter the young woman up to make her want to buy what was on offer. However it seemed she was genuine, and caring, maybe a mother herself.

The pilot nodded in agreement with Amber.

"Yep green," she added though she wondered which friends they were talking about. It wasn't Buck or the Captain, it wasn't Ethan or those with him, nor was it Joy and Lou, then...was it Meanie and...and what was her name again? Zara, the Twi'lek, they were 'entertainment' right? Her green eyes look around, well, if they have something for everyone they might have something for them.

Amber watched the older woman but almost felt confusion from beside her.

"Something worrying you?" she asked in a hushed voice, "You seem....confused?" It was hard for her to let Ianna know she was feeling her emotions but she couldn't tell her that.

"Huh..." Ianna started looking to her partner, it wasn't to hard to tell what was going on in the farm girl's head. She was still turning over the friends Amber mentioned, and the worry about what was going to happen when they got to the wedding. "Well..." she kept her voice as quiet as Amber's, "Just want to make sure we're talking about the same 'friends' it's Kayn and Zara? or is it someone else?" She wanted to talk about the mission but, she knew enough not to speak openly not with someone right in front of them.

Amber gave a nod.

"Zara had a word to me, told me what she didn't want mostly and I understand that. As for Kayn, wonder if they sell Wookie suits?"

Ianna giggled a little, imagining the horns sticking out of a fuzzy mask.

"I don't think that's going to work very well." She looked to the suits that hung on the wall. "Maybe a bright suit, in rockus colors."

Amber smirked.

"So much as I'd love to do that, and seems you would too. Apparently a simple black tie and tux is all that is required." She stopped and bit her bottom lip as a smirk touched her lips. "But we could misread the size."

It seemed that their mischievous nature would be curbed by the realities of what they were trying to do, though it seemed the full reality was far away from them.

"I guess, though do we want it to be too small or too big?"

Amber considered the two options.

"Let's make him feel like he often makes us feel, uncomfortable. Lets go one size smaller." She smiled, this time it was genuine and it felt nice.

"Ladies! I have chosen out a few options for you! Please come down and try them on!" the woman called. Turning to Ianna she winked.

"Show time." For the first time in a long time she felt almost happy.

Ianna returned the smile it look real this time, not forced. It looked almost like she was having fun. With a cheery grin she followed Anna into the back. It was time to see if she found anything that worked for her.

Standing in front of the reflector Amber was able to study the outfit she'd finally chosen. Having tried on 5 other dresses, this one somehow made her feel good. It flowed around her body, clinging in places and at times revealing much more than she normally liked. Looking at the right side of her neck she could see the white line of the scar her late husband had gifted her on their wedding night. Lifting her left hand she traced the line down to her cleavage, stopping where the fabric started. Shifting her hand she allowed s small smile as she admired the soft spattering of glittering stars she'd had tattooed over the scar.

The tattoo was a year or so old now, and the stars ranged in size from tiny through to slightly bigger than her thumbnail, all in a gold sparkle ink that almost, but not quite covered the scar. No one was ever supposed to see this, no one. It was an act of defiance and somehow redemption for her alone and now it was there for all to see.

Brushing her hair back with her hand the solution was suddenly there right in front of her. Pulling her braid over her shoulder she teased the sides out to make it larger and cover not only the scar but the stars. If she placed a gold clasp over the tie at the end it would be mostly covered. This was a look she thought she'd never wear again, she might have 3 years ago, but that was another time, and another life. Turning to the chair nearby she extended her arm and the tiny Voorpak jumped onto her hand and ran up her arm to snuggle into her hair.

"Good boy Chak." She muttered reaching up and scratching him, "You make this complete, I think we look the part now."

Back in the other changing room Ianna started trying on the dresses all in some variation of green, from seafoam to forest it seemed most shades were represented. There were almost too many options to choose from. Closing her eyes she grabbed one at random, a blueish green floor length gown with some sleeve like things that just covered the shoulders. Unsure she tried it on and quickly found that the puffy sleeves seemed to only draw attention to the hectares pale skin that she bore across her chest and arms. It also did an excellent job of showing off her bulky shoulders and arms. The cooler color didn't seem to make the problem worse. However she just didn't feel right wearing it.

Setting it to one side she closed her eyes again and grabbed the next dress. Her face souring a little, it was ever so small, even smaller than her frame. The lady was kind enough to pick it out for her she might as well try it on. It took some doing but, she was able to pour herself into it. It fit, rather snuggly but, it did fit. The problem was, while most of her chest was covered she was showing entirely too much leg. Her muscled calves, toned thighs, everything above the knee still as pale as the rest of her body covered by clothes. That area was normally covered with shorts, and not the thin bits of fabric she saw once or twice in the city. She shook her head, this wouldn't work either, though its deep green color did appeal to her, a reminder of the fields of wheat in middle summer, right after a rainstorm.

She poured herself back out of the dress and set it to the side with the other one. This time she didn't close her eyes looking back to the collection of dresses. She knew what color she wanted and the length she was looking for now, it might make it easier. Scanning over them she found one that had an opaque white shawl that could go about the shoulders. That could work, cover her up but, still have that elegant style most were looking for.

The dress itself was that deep green but, with a strip of white running down the side complementing the shawl. She tried it on hearing Amber just outside.

Leaving the change room the other woman was looking at herself in front of another reflector as Anna fluffed out the gown at her feet.

"I have it on good authority this was worn only once by a princess no less!" Anna clucked. Amber didn't believe her, but it sounded nice.

It seemed Amber had found what she was looking for while Ianna was still unsure.

She looked in the reflector now that she was fully dressed. The gown ran to the floor but, didn't gather upon it. The shawl did was it was supposed to covering shoulders and chest, she might need a pin or something to hold it in place without her hand. And she would need shoes, she doubted that her boots were suitable for such a party, though she wouldn't wear those ridiculous heels. She had work to do at this party, she couldn't do that if she was tottering back and forth heels.

She walked out a weak smile on her face, turning to Amber the smirk began to waver.

"What do you think,"

Amber heard Ianna come out and turned to look.

"Wow, you look lovely!" she said honestly, Anna had chosen well. "Really, you do." she reassured her nervous looking new friend. "You're gonna do just fine."

Ianna returned the smile, Amber looked almost like royalty, or maybe the idea was planted in her mind by Anna. Either way it was nice to hear her saying that she looked nice.

The pair stepped out acquiring some new shoes and accessories to match their outfits. Ianna chose a pair of simple white flat soled shoes. As well she picked up a simple polished metal pin with inlaided false emeralds to secure her shawl.

On the way out they collected a rather nice dress for Zara and a one-size-too-small suit for Kyan.

She thanked Anna with a nod of her head and walked back out into the station at least for a moment forgetting about the turmoil that lay ahead.

TAG: @Bardan_Jusik @Sarge @Rebecca_Daniels

 

IC: PO3 Lughdyt
Black Sheep Hangar Bay

Lughdyt glared suspiciously at the Treadwell droid working on 7841's tail. The droid's multiple arms were handling long coils of superconductive monofilament, bonding the wire to the inner surface of the A-wing's thrust vector rings in a tight, precise pattern. It was a monotonous task requiring concentration and precision, a task that even Lughdyt had to admit was perfectly suited to a droid. Just don't get any ideas about stealing my job, tin man, he thought. I'm the plane captain here, and a droid's place is to obey its boss, no more and not a bit less.

Marginally satisfied that the droid was working to spec, he scanned his datapad, checking the list of modifications Lt Kayn had given him. The new weaponry should wait a little longer until the heat blew over from the heist, he'd leave those stashed out of sight for now. This seemed like a good time to work out the software updates. The flight control computer was already reconfigured to respond to Kayn's neural enhancements, but he still needed to tie in the new targeting programs. If Lughdyt could patch the subroutines together, the guns should be slaved to Kayn's cybernetic eyeball, pivoting up and down to aim where the pilot looked. It would be a much quicker and more intuitive traverse system than the manual controls. And he had found a similar system program that was once used in old gunships to aim turrets by tracking the movements of the gunners' helmets. Since Kayn couldn't wear a helmet over his horns, Lughdyt would just have to adapt the program to track the Devaronian's eye instead.

About an hour later, he looked up from the lines of coding. The human who was plane captain on the all-black A-wing parked in the next spot was working. Lughdyt remembered him from the Vipers; he was bad luck. But there was on old saying among Ugnaughts, that it's bad luck to try to outrun bad luck. He sighed, hoped he was making the least unlucky choice, and walked over to the black ship.

"Morning. I'm Lughdyt. Been working on a helmet aimed targeting program. Might be helpful to your pilot, if she wants to give it a try." He offered the man a data disk. Before the human answered, crackles and sparks drew their attention to the top of an X-wing. Lughdyt grabbed the nearest fire extinguisher and hustled over to the excitement.

A purple R2 unit reeked of burnt insulation and smoked from multiple seams. Ooh, that one's fried like a Lifeday porg. Wonder if the servos burned up? I still need actuators to make my guns turn 360, and R2 unit leg servos might do the job. He waved to get the tech's attention. "Hey, buddy, I was just on my way to the droid maintenance shop, you want I should drag that thing along the way?"

TAG: @Rebecca_Daniels @Adalia-Durron and all the grease monkeys trying to make an honest living in a hard galaxy

 

IC: Kayn "Heartbreaker" Balzroth
In His Own Mind, In His Own World. Enter if You Dare.

He turned in front of the full-length mirror, critically eying the cut of the suit. The pinstripes were a nice touch, but the fit was snug. Very snug. He was sure he had written his size down clearly; how had Kid and Vixen gotten it wrong?



Maybe one of them just wants to check me out in tight pants. I doubt it's Kid; the farm girl isn't the type. Vixen? She's always so hostile to me, could be a sign of repressed feelings. Let's hope the poor girl gets over it soon. She's pretty, for a human, but I prefer women a little less... psycho? No, that's unkind. Let's say, unstable.

He returned his attention to his appearance. It had been years since he'd dressed so formally. This kind of fashion had been common growing up in the Balzroth's manor, and after leaving home he had occasionally donned tuxedos to attend formal functions with sponsors in the galactic racing circuit.

Wonder if anyone will recognize me? Being famous could be a problem for an undercover agent. Could trim the beard a little differently. Still, I'd better have a plan in case someone recognizes me. He thought about that, chuckled, and grinned.

TAG: @galactic-vagabond422 @Adalia-Durron and the Imperial Fashion Police

 

IC: Zara Yaren
Otoh Gunga, trying on clothes

It would do, but she wasn't going to be happy about it. When Amber had brought her the dress, she'd been a bit surprised; given their credit limitations, she thought it'd be unlikely they'd find anything for the "entertainment" team, but here they were. The gold dress didn't cover her shoulders, there was a slit up the leg she didn't like in the slightest, the skirt was so long it would drag when she walked-- how was someone expected to move in this? Run in this? Maybe if they did their jobs right there wouldn't be any running involved, but as she threw the-- train? shawl?-- over her shoulder, she had to admit it looked... all right.



Kayn looked passable too. Fine, so they might make it in the door. At least until they found the explosives they were all supposed to be carrying. Then they'd all get arrested and executed and wouldn't that be a fine end to a doomed mission.

In the mirror, Zara's reflection scowled back at her. On the list of things that wouldn't work, that was at the top. She tried to set her expression into something more neutral, or pleasant, but remained looking vaguely annoyed. Her smile looked forced. Her headtails revealed her displeasure-- but at least a bunch of human Imperials wouldn't know how to read that. How to fake looking happy wasn't really in her wheelhouse, but maybe it would be easier when the time approached.

She took off her headband and slip on the matching one Amber had brought. Gold too, sparkly and shiny, decorative rather than useful like the goggles she had on hers. The shoes were too light too, not at all like the boots she always wore. It's just one night Zara, suck it up. They did a good job finding something in a pinch. She took a breath and her mirrored expression seemed to lighten a bit. She'd have to thank Amber and Ianna later, better than the mumbled "oh, thanks" when they'd handed the pieces over.

"We almost ready to do this thing?" she groused.

TAG: @Sarge @Adalia-Durron @galactic-vagabond422 any others

--------

IC: Kio Daumé
Black Sheep Hangar Bay

The shield upgrades were going surprisingly well, a hallmark of how much time he was putting in in an attempt to keep his mind off thoughts of what might be happening on Naboo. This A-wing wasn't as nice as the last one he'd operated on, but with time the circuits would sing. The original shield generator wasn't going to waste, pieces of it used to strengthen the new one, reinforce what was already there, make it more durable for when his pilot would inevitably take it into fire. Some of this would have to be finished later by the hangar droids, but he preferred to do as much as possible by hand; the Daumé guarantee. While he'd been told little about the generator he was working with, the way FO Yaren had handed it off made him a bit suspicious of how she'd gotten the high-quality part. Regardless, he was well-versed in keeping his head down and no one had asked any questions. And if they did, he truly didn't know where the piece had come from.

The small, grumpy tech, headed his way. The one who worked on 7841. The suspicious A-wing that shouldn't be here but was here. "Morning. I'm Lughdyt. Been working on a helmet aimed targeting program. Might be helpful to your pilot, if she wants to give it a try." An interesting offer, though he knew the helmet Yaren wore was unusual, like most that the non-humans had to wear. Just as he was about to ask further about the program, an R2 unit in a nearby bay went up in smoke, and the two rushed over with handheld fire extinguishers.

"Hey, buddy, I was just on my way to the droid maintenance shop, you want I should drag that thing along the way?" He'd heard talk that this one was... unfriendly to droids, but he was awfully quick to proclaim the droid destroyed. Many rebel pilots were quite attached to their droids, though perhaps that's why the Ugnaught had gone for an A-wing; few of those pilots had droids, as the ships didn't have an astromech port.

"Naw, I'd better deal with this one myself, lady who owns him isn't pleasant at the best of times and for my own health I should keep tabs on her droid fried or not." At least the tech for the droid wasn't so quick to give up on the droid. "Thanks for the offer buddy."

"Ok, let's get you out and all this mess out and start again. I see a lot of overtime in my future."

"Perhaps I can offer my assistance?" Kio suggested, clasping his hands in front of him. "My current work is going well, and not in any hurry. Between the two of us we may get the droid back on its feet before your pilot returns." It would be a better distraction, too, from the talk of the mission the Black Sheep were currently embarking on. Some claimed they were headed for Naboo, his homeworld, and he worried for the state of the planet. What the Imperials might do to retaliate if they knew the Sheep were operating there. What might happen to his parents. And what damage the Sheep might do themselves. Fixing a droid would be a nice change of pace, if the tech wanted the assistance.

TAG: @Sarge @Adalia-Durron any other techs

 

OOC: Joint post with @Adalia-Durron... something a little lighthearted for the middle of our drama

IC: Jeen Talgana, Kio Daumé
Intrepid

Kio reached for the lift controls to get the little droid down. "What is its name?" he asked, driving the lift over the X-wing. "And your own, if I might inquire?"

Sliding over the side having hooked the droid up, Jeen's feet hit the ground. "He's Squirt." he straightened up, "And I'm Jeen, Jeen Talgana." He responded reaching his hand out in a handshake greeting that he hoped the man was familiar with. "And you are?"

He drove the astromech carefully down, cautious of its already delicate state, then clasped Jeen's hand in greeting. "Ah, I'm Kio Daumé, I've been with the Vipers for a while but I was... recently transferred." It was mostly true, at least. "I hope to stay with the Sheep for a while."

Jeen studied the scorch marks on Squirts dome. "I was ground crew on Hoth, got sent here due to my specialized knowledge on unusual damage." He shrugged, "I'd like to stay here but I guess that depends on how long we have the Black Sheep for."

Kio shook his head. "I count myself lucky that I didn't end up there myself. Though the Evil Eye-- the Intrepid, I mean, has its own sort of bad luck." He crouched next to the purple droid, tracing one of the scorches with a finger, trying to feel where the damage would lead on the inside. "Hopefully this didn't overload the memory banks, there won't be much we can do to save him if the damage runs deep."

"If his memory banks are gone, I'm jumping ship." Jeen muttered as he also bent to look at Squirts damage.

"What do you think, time to open him up and see?" He reached into his tool belt to find the appropriate sized hydrospanner. "The sooner we look, the sooner you can find an escape pod." Jokes didn't come easily to Kio, but it was a soft one.

Jeen chuckled, "You have no idea, and doubt I'd even use one, just out the air lock thanks." He said as he helped to find the appropriate points and pulled out his own tools to help. "He might need a paint touch up too."

"Paint is an easy fix. This, I suspect, will not be." Kio gently pried open some of the droid's panels, frowning at the damage within. "The damage radiates out, but memory seems clear." The centre of the damage traced around and into-- "The power core, on the other hand..."

Jeen peered in, "That seems to have taken the brunt of it, the converter is fried beyond recognition."

"Not sure this can be fixed before your pilot returns. Unless luck is on our side and the parts just happen to be lying around," Kio sighed. Luck was definitely not ever on his side. "So shall we find you an airlock?"

Jeen sat back on his haunches and allowed his shoulders to slump. "Yep, I say I got a day or two, but after that....yep."

Kio puts a hand on Jeen's shoulder, a small smiles on his face. "Come, the sooner we start looking, the sooner we might find the necessary parts. And in the meantime, perhaps you can paint another droid purple."

"You think she'd notice?" he asked as he stood. "Actually pretty sure she would. How about a drink first?" He looked down at Squirt, "Not so sure about leaving him here like this though, I suspect that Ugnaght has other ideas."

"You could leave him in my bay," Kio suggested. "Most mechanics tend to give my workspace a wide berth, lest they catch something." That sounded bad. "Not that I'm ill." That sounded worse. "I mean, there's a superstition around me. It's nothing, I assure you." He took a moment to recentre his thoughts. "Or perhaps we take him to your quarters, where he'll be safe from prying... hands."

Jeen smiled. "Sounds grand, I'm not the superstitious kind, so no worries there. After that I say we check out the ladies on board?" Jeen was essentially a lover of the ladies, his success rate wasn't great but it never stopped him from trying.

Kio chuckled to himself. "I believe I'll enjoy watching you do that. As long as we stay away from the Vipers-- they particularly don't like me. And Commander Kryze. She may break your arm."

"Kryze, got it. Let's get Squirt settled and then I'll show you how it's done, watch and learn." he said with a cheeky grin, "Just watch and learn!"

TAG: @Adalia-Durron @Sarge any others in the bay

 

IC: Meili Han
Intrepid, Black Sheep Hangar

More driving Glimmik music filled the tech's ears as she worked mostly just repairing the powercouplings held together with adhesive and hope. Again she was amazed at the little green and white droid and the hoops it jumped through to keep this old bird in the air. Swapping out the last wire and securing it into place her head bobbed, her mouth speaking the shouted words. It had been a strange few days on the deck. An EMP blast that knocked fuel lines loose and now the secretive mission that had the Kid worried.

Meili shook her head, no use getting worked up about it. Not like she could go down there with a spanner in hand and protect Kid, not that she could when she took the Y-Wing out on missions. However she could do her best to keep the bomber in good repair, and after days of working on it she was pretty sure it was in the best shape she could get it in. Yep, it wasn't factory new but, it was as close as the former speeder mechanic could get it. Just in time for the Little Girl go break it again.

A thought crossed her mind like a passing phantom…

'If she comes back.'

Another shake of her head. It did no good to worry about it, nothing she could do.

A long breath left her as she looked over her shoulder seeing sparks and smoke rising from one of the X-Wings.

"By the Arcadia." She muttered under her breath using a particularly Carratosian expression, well, the locals anyway. The Imperials did their best to suppress the Legend of the Arcadia, and the immortal captain which helmed her. She turned around and finished buttoning up her bomber, making sure the bolts were extra tight. Pulling out her earbuds she made her way over to the gathering group, cherry red tool box in hand, the Skull of Arcadia emblazoned on the lid.

A long whistle left her resounding through out the deck. There was the ugnaught, the one that got into a fight with the horned guy with ego the size of a planet, the human with long dark hair that they say misfortune follows, and another human she hadn't heard much about.

The two humans were carrying a droid with some scorch marks and clear signs of being opened.

"Our little friend have a meeting with the wrong end of an electrode?" She asked pointing to the busted astromech, completely unaware of the conversation had before hand.

TAG: @Adalia-Durron @Rebecca_Daniels @Sarge Other techs on the deck.

 

IC: Airen Vehn
Intrepid
Hangar


Airen had finally finished the repairs to Lou's Y-Wing. The old wishbone that had seen a handful of hard battles was ready to fly again. He was proud of his work and the chance to belong to a cause again. A former Imperial himself Airen wasn't about to lose perspective on which side he wanted to win the war. After serving aboard the Death Star, and narrowly escaping, he had personally witnessed the horrors of the Empire's policies on such far away places as Jedha and Scarif and knew in his heart he could never serve the Empire again.

C-8, Crazy Eight, scooted up alongside Airen and warbled.

Airen looked over at Lou's droid and smirked, "What is your domed head getting all worked up about?"

Crazy Eight spun his domed head around and moved from side to side as the droid drew Airen's attention to another burned out droid not very far away.

"You want me to lend a hand?" Airen asked.

Crazy Eight hollered a response.

"I'm no saint," Airen grumbled.

Crazy Eight protested.

"Yeah, okay, I am a mechanic. Let's go take a look," Airen said as he grabbed his toolkit and made his way over to where the other mechanics had gathered.

"Anything I can do to help?" Airen asked.

Tag: @Adalia-Durron; @galactic-vagabond422; @Rebecca_Daniels; @Sarge

 

~IC~ Captain Cassell “Skipper” Wystari + Flight Officer “Harley” Quin + Flight Officer Nib Nombunn
Location: Valkyria - midway to Otoh Gunga

The Sullustan showed aptitude and respect for the Valkyria. That, or the fear of what might happen to him if something happened to the ship. Midway through the several hour long journey, the Corellian Captain felt comfortable enough to leave the cockpit to tend to things and see how everyone was fairing.

He paused and watched over one of the demonstration sessions that Taab and the Marines were going over with the rest of the squadron. He kept his concern to himself about what might happen if someone accidently set the things off. After that was over, he caught the eye of the Zeltron and made his way over to her.

“Flight Officer Quin?” Wystari asked her. “May I have a moment of your time?”

She eyed him at first, then flashed a big grin. “Sure.” She said as she bobbed her head, her blue and red dyed ponytails danced about.

“We haven’t been formally introduced… I am Cassell Wystari, Captain of the Valkyria.”

“Quin, but you can call me Harley.” She said and stuck out her hand. “Put it there, Pardner.”

“Ah… thank you, Flight- um… Ms- Harley.” Wystari was unsure what to make of that and shook her hand. “They tend to call me ‘Skipper’.”

“Skipper…” She arched a brow and frowned. “Aren’t you a Lieutenant?”

“In the Alliance hierarchy, I am… but I operate my own ship and I am it's Captain.”

“Yeah, but… isn’t having a crew a prerequisite to make one a Captain?” She looked about. “No offense but you seem pretty alone operating this ship, Mister.”

“I have hired help.” Wystari narrowed his gaze a fraction. While it is true, he has hired on people though their roles had been temporary. There was a toot-toot as Matey rolled past and he ignored its jab about asking for a pay rise. “Ah, the reason I wanted to speak with you is about this upcoming mission.” He gestured to the access way for them to go deeper into the ship.

“I’m excited, it’s going to be a blast!” She said with glee in her eyes as she followed him.

“Ah, about that…” He rubbing his chin. “...have you given some thought about our identities and cover stories?”

She paused momentarily. "No. Not really but that part is not really important, we're smart people, we'll figure that as we go along. The important part is what kind of a party are we going to? Is it themed? I hope it is!" She said with excitement in her voice.

“It’s a wedding between an unfortunate soul and someone with an unfortunate personality.” Wystari said as they entered the galley. “Given the implied attendees… somehow I have a feeling it might be some strait-laced affair… though given the lack of guidelines and dress code, no one said we could be flamboyant if you want to go there. Umm, water?” He offered as he got down a glass.

"Sure. Thanks." She was lost in thought as she accepted his offer for a glass of water. "Yes, let's be flamboyant! I like that it'll let us give us a bit more freedom to get what we need a lot easier and really push some buttons." She said excitedly.

Wystari smiled at that. "Flamboyant it is. It should fit the personality we are going for as well… something a bit different but one we can relate too... a chance to flex our thespian skills with the audience… what an audience we be having."

Her smile broadening. "Yessssss.....this is gonna be a lot of fun! When do we get to work!?"

Her enthusiasm would have been infectious if not for the fact they were about to embark on a deadly mission that could wipe out the entire squadron... he wondered how she would perform once the going gets tough. "We can start right now if you are keen… I mean, we have a couple of hours before we arrive at the station for the supplies for the mission."

~~~ Hours later ~~~​

The transition into the region was smooth. But that’s not what jarred Wystari. The doughnut shape of the Lucrehulk that awaited them brought back a flood of memories. He had to resist the urge to power up shields and weapons and bring them in at full speed for an attack run. However, he was not at the controls this time, his new acting pilot was and the large freighter/warship had apparently been converted into a commercial vessel and been deemed a ‘friendly’. The IFF indicated it was the Otoh Gunga… whose owner must have a sense of irony to have it named after the famed Gungan city since the faction who owned that vessel class had attempted to wipe the Gungans out back before the Empire was established.

How the times have changed.

He shook his head at the question Nombunn had asked. “No, how about if I roll the r’s like so… ‘it is imperrr-ative that we arrre on schedule’…” His voice was more crisp, an air of aristocracy to it.

That caused the Sullustan to chuckle and asked a query.

“Yeah, you’re right, probably makes me sound like I’m from Eriadu… let’s try another accent… a bit more, northern quadrant…” This time he projected enthusiasm in his voice as he gave a hearty laugh. “‘Crea-shh-ion is an act of shheer will… and next time, it’ll be flawwless.’ Hmm… how did that sound?”

Nombunn shrugged and pointed to the dashboard at the incoming transmission and mentioned he is about concentrating on the landing process.

Wystari rolled his eyes. “Sure, sure. I’ll work it out later.” He was no closer working out the finer details of the persona for the mission and it was constantly on his mind, he wanted it perfect. The brainstorming session with Ms Quin was useful in that they were getting to know each other better and had eliminated a few possibilities. It was decided that once they seen the ‘costumes’ that were on offer for the performance, the rest should fall into place. Theoretically.

He sighed and pursed his lips as permission was granted for landing. He pushed that from his mind as he focused on what Nombunn was doing.

The approach was smooth, could be smoother but it was fine. Entering the cavernous hanger arm was something altogether and Nombunn had brought the Valkyria to the assigned landing zone and landed the ship with a small thud.

“Not bad not bad… just ease up on the repulsars a tad slower so we don’t feel that drop.” He stood up and patted the Sullustan on the shoulder. “You be fine. We’ll bring you back a souvenir if we make it out alive.”

TAG: Open

 

IC: PO3 Lughdyt
Tweaking and Tuning

The Treadwell droid had finally finished its work on 7841's tail. Lughdyt made it wait for nearly an hour as the plane captain checked and rechecked the placement of the superconducting filaments in the A-wing's thrust vector rings. According to his hand-held laser micrometer, the filaments had been embedded in perfectly aligned coils that wound all the way around the rings mounted behind the engines on the stabilizer fins. He grudgingly dismissed the droid and got busy routing heavy duty power lines to the coils. If that cocky rocket jockey's scheme is gonna work, this system's gonna need all the power we can feed into it. Better run heavy duty relays off the shield and cannon feeds. And if that doesn't cut it, this thing won't be but a waste of time and effort.

After buttoning up the loose access panels, the Ugnaught hooked up a tow tug to the A-wing's nose strut and moved the ship to the forward edge of the hangar bay. He backed the fighter up all the way to the magnetic atmospheric shield, pushing its engine exhausts out into space. He set the parking brakes, latched tie-down chains from the A-wing's hoisting points to mooring links on the hangar deck, and chocked the skids for good measure. Satisfied that the overpowered little ship was as secure as it could be, he climbed into the cockpit, flipped on the master switch, and began the engine start sequence.

Soon the engines were pulsing at full power, properly tuned and warmed up. The igniters were just a hair out of synch, but that was typical; these high-performance components tended to drift from their optimum settings with every little change in temperature and humidity. He could tweak that later. For now, they were running about 99% of max, which was plenty good enough to test the new system.

Lughdyt flipped the new toggle switch he had wired in next to the throttle quadrant, closing the circuit, and redistributed a little power from the shield generator. Energy flowed through the coils, activating magnetic fields from the rings around the ion engine exhausts, accelerating the ion particles away from the ship. The master power distribution display showed that the new system was channeling energy, but there was no noticeable change in engine output. He slowly upped the power level until the full power of the shields was running through the ship's tail rings. Still nothing more from the engines. All right, last chance, let's feed in the weapons power too.

The magnetic fields intensified, energizing the ion exhaust still further, and finally passed its energy saturation point. The ions flashed into plasma. The glow from the engine plumes jumped by an order of magnitude and afterburner flames licked out ten meters from the engines.



Lughdyt twisted his neck around to see behind the fighter and grinned in appreciation for the image of raw power and the sharply defined pattern of shock diamond waves in the exhaust plumes. He had felt a surge of thrust as the flames shot out into space. Good. That should give the A-wing a little extra speed. Enough to outrun those TIE Defenders? Well, I'm no test pilot, I'll leave that to the horned one to find out for himself.

TAG: All the hot-rodders and backyard wrench-benders dragging their knuckles around the hangar

 

~IC~ Captain Cassell “Skipper” Wystari + Flight Officer “Harley” Quin
Location: Lucrehulk Otoh Gunga

“Don’t you worry about me.” Wystari said to Harley as they entered the ‘shopping district’ of the Lucrehulk. “I probably have something back on board that is suitable. I want to get you sorted first.”

"No worries Mr.S. A girl can take care of herself. You go do you. I'll just window shop and see what tickles my fancy. Hehehe" She said with a slight high pitched giggle.

“There’s a couple of things I want to check, I won’t be far. Come find me and we go back to the ship together.” He said and let her go browse the wares. He watched her wave and go off on her own with a skip to her step and shook his head. He had a shopping list of things he wanted to check out and see if they’ve got anything interesting.

Spare parts, broken machinery, bits and bobs and odds and ends… whatever you want to call it, there were quite a few vendors selling these things. Quite a few belonged to vintage Clone Wars era equipment, which suited him fine. He procured a set of updated photoreceptor lens and servomotors for his droid, Matey… the merchant had incorrectly identified the model numbers and Skipper picked them up a bit below market price. What a bargain. He then moved onto the larger wares for vehicles and starships...

~~~~~~​

Harley had been browsing around the various stores for the mission and was about to give up until she a large purple and white neon holo-sign caught her eye. She quickly walked towards the front of the store as she looked what was on the window displays. A sign stated “The latest fashion trends from the crossroads of the galaxy”. She took a step back to look at the name of the shop.

"Hmmm yummy. I think I found what I want." She said to herself and skipped into the store.

A lightly tattooed Zabrak-female shop assistant greeted her. "Welcome, Miss. How may I help you today?"

"Hmmmmmmm, I don't need any help. I know what I want and I want that outfit you have on the window display!" She said in a very exaggerated tone.

"Oh... the Jester's?” The shop assistant gave a perplexed look. “Well… it is festival season... We do have that in stock... was there anything else you may need?"

"I want shoes that are sparkling. I'm going to a very important event and I want all eyes on my heels!" She said excitedly.

The Zabrak nodded slowly. "I think I have something in mind."

After sometime and satisfaction with what she had found, Harley paid for the goods and grabbed her shopping bags.

"Thank you for shopping at ‘Birds of Prey’. Hope to see you again soon." The Zabrak said to Harley as she walked out of the store.

"Oh I will. Cya Ivy!" Harley said out loud as she hummed to herself. "I wonder where the Skips be off to?" She said heading towards where she last saw him before they parted.

~~~~~~​

“Why the long face?” The Balosar kept his smile, despite the antennapalps twitching nervously. He outstretched his arms in an over enthusiastic gesture to draw attention to the plush Ronto before Wystari. It had large warm brown glass eyes and a small expressive smile. In a word… it was adorable. “Didn’t I say it was your lucky day? My own Mama would be ashamed of me if I parted with it for no less than forty credits.”

“Forty?!?” Wystari glared at the merchant as he lifted the plush animal to estimate the weight. “The tag says fifteen.”

“It does? My-oh-me, my mistake, I must need a monocle… glasses even, he-he. Did I tell you THAT is ONE of a kind?”

“Mate...” Wystari placed the animal down and folded his arms in front of his chest. He gestured with his head to the box of more of them behind him. “...you need more than just glasses.”

“Ah, silly me…don’t mind that… he-he” He laughed nervously and moved the box out of sight. “I tell you what, I give you TWO!” He held up two fingers to put emphasis on the offer “For forty!”

Wystari cringed and shook his head. This guy was unbelievable, he probably didn’t even own the stall.

“What’s the matter? Headache? I think I got something here for one of those too!” The merchant kept going, he reached down and pulled up a bag and started rummaging through, throwing out one item after another as his voice was going a mile a minute. “...somewhere in here…”

All this for a small gift, a small gesture... and this was getting out of hand. “Hey hey, slow down…” Wystari sighed then gave a dismissive wave. “Ah, forget it!”

“No wait. Please… I make a deal… I’ll even thrown in-”

"Whatcha doing?” Harley said as she found Wystari and sidled next to him. She pointed to a plush Nexu. “Oh, that's cute!"

The Balosar regarded the two."Hey-hey. You want it, it's yours for sixty... along with the two Rontos..."

“Sixty? Who’d ya think you are? You pirate!”

Harley caught the power-play between the Wystari and the seller. She skipped right by him with bags in hand.

"Hey pretty boy, how about bring it down to twenty-five?" Before the merchant could say anything, she leaned close whispered something with a giggle. A broad smile crept on his face.

Wystari raised his eyebrow and noted how crimson the Balosar’s cheeks were. He wouldn’t dare to guess what she had said to the merchant.

She turned to Wystari with a wink. "I got this. You should be good now."

"Fine..." He said reluctantly and handed over the credits. "Thank you, here...” He passed the plush Nexu to Harley. “Happy birthday..." He then tucked the two rontos under his arm. "Did you find what you wanted?"

Harley's eyes lit up at the sight of the Nexu. "Oh my! Yes! How did you know? I looooooooveeeee Nexus!" She hugged him around the neck before leaping back with her bags flapping from side to side. "Yep! I got what I was looking for Mr.S!"

“Don’t... mention it…” He cleared his throat, her hug took him by surprise and the force of it knocked some air out of him. “Great… ah… let’s go back to the ship and get these things sorted… then we’ll see how the others are doing.”

~~~Back on the Valkyria~~~​

Wystari placed the purchased goods aside and out of reach of Matey, then went to his cabin to go over his wardrobe while Harley played with her newly acquired ‘friend’. He skipped passed his old dress uniform, his flight uniform, his freelancing gear, his current dress uniform, the suit he wore to the memorial service… He paused… there was that formal dinner jacket… if he matched that up with those pants… paired up with that vest… tie that sash around the waist… but that was not flamboyant enough…

He rummaged through his chest of drawers and had an epiphany… he stumbled upon old silken tunic and breeches, a deep crimson in colour… it came from the deserts of Damina. A decorative golden sash around his diaphragm. He fitted on a deep royal blue cloak with golden threads on the cuffs and trims. He placed a black leather jerkin over the top, black with gold trim to keep it all together.

He came out to showcase it and stopped in his tracks when he saw Harley in her change of clothes.

“Whatcha think?” She spun to show off the black and red sequin jester costume.

“I think that is… great for carnival… although far more outlandish than that what the target audience can handle…” Wystari answered as diplomatically as he could. “We want a bit more towards the flamboyant end… come here.”

“But… this IS flamboyant…” Harley protested as he lead her to one of the other cabins.

“There might be something here more suitable for you…” Wystari muttered under his breath as he checked the wardrobe in there. The attire it held was more feminine, he pulled out a simple frock then placed it back, then pulled out a deep purple gown and held it up to her. It complimented her natural pink complexion and about her size too.

“That’s pretty but not… flamboyant...” She said as she took it from him. “Who does all these belong to anyway?”

“Never you mind, you have to get ready.” He dismissed the question as he left for the door. “We’ll accessorise later... I best let you change and get ready.”

When she was ready, she came out and entered Wystari’s Cabin and pouted. “I feel stupid.”

“You look… beautiful.” He complimented her. “Now, we need to finalise our personas.”

"How about you be the crime lord..." Harley said as she bobbed her head side to side. A few locks of hair came loose.

"Well…" Wystari cupped his chin.

"…and I be the henchman." She finished.

Wystari arched his brow then cleared his throat as he dropped his voice a pitch and added a strain to it as he said. "I don't know… it is no good… to disrespect the family." He shook his head. "Too much, too cliche." He fetched a glass and poured a drink from a decanter. “Strains the vocal cords.”

"Nah, you kinda had it. Just needed a few goons following you about." She complimented his attempt.

"I rather not… I'm more of a business person, an entrepreneur… as one would say." He took a sip.

"Eh… Fancy, schmancy… same difference. Want me to be your squeeze?" Harley said.

Wystari spluttered on his drink and covered his mouth as he coughed. "No... I don't think that would be necessary."

"Boss lady said we're dating." Harley said firmly as she inspected the material of the gown.

"No, you are my plus one. A guest for this formal function."

"As your date." She looked up and arched her eyebrows up and down several times.

He sighed and decided to change the tangent. "Now, there was an associate from back in the day… started out as a freighter captain… Corellian based, anyhow. I hear is currently working for this group.”

“Uh-huh”

“Nowadays, he always has this young lady with him…”

“Like a floozy?” She gave a funny look and brushed back a rogue lock of hair.

“No, as his bodyguard. How good are you in combat?” He asked. “I’m more of a brawler, I like to get in close, if you know what I mean.”

“Get in close..huh. And you almost had me fooled with the straight man act, Mr Captain Sir!” Nudging him with her elbow with a wink. “I know exactly what you mean.” She said with a gleeful laugh. “I like to get in close too! I’m pretty good with close quarters. Don’t wanna get too close or I’ll send you to heaven if you know what I mean.” She said with an exaggerated wink towards him.

“Charmed…” Wystari muttered dryly, this was starting to test his patience. “Time’s up. Your role… Bodyguard? Or the prima ballerina performing in that upcoming opera, Pagliacci?”

“Well…” She pouted as she tilted her head then tapped her index finger against her lips, thinking it over. “What are you going to be then?”

“They said I am to be a wealthy arrriistocraaat…so...” He did an exaggerated sweep of his arm and bowed. “Cassim Arturo, at your service, my lady.”

“Some high-class fancy pants billionaire.” She smirked and blew that unruly lock of hair from her face. “Fine, I be your ballerina bodyguard.”

TAG: Open

 

IC: Ethan Malek, Akiva Lurell, Max Pallas
Landing ramp of the Valkyria

Akiva looked at her chosen cohorts. "Trash compactors or dock workers. Without cash we might be able to do a couple favors to earn items we cannot scrounge."

Ethan nodded slowly to the Codru-Ji`s words. "Yeah, I still have some credits left on my card but it isn´t much so I guess we might have to get some of this stuff through other means."

He threw a worried look at Max and again remembered her words in the shuttle. She knows what we are planning and will probably do her best to stop us. He knew that made her a threat to Ianna´s and his plan but he wasn´t sure what he could do. The memory of the Grappler still haunted him and he knew that Max had every right to be skeptical of his suggestions.

"Do you have any suggestions?" he said and gave Max and the Codru-Ji a questioning look.

Max hesitated. She'd figured on doing some 5-fingered shopping. "Hair dye, make up, eye dye, and if we can get some of those temporary tattoo inks, that could help with Kayn and Zara," she said. "I have a few bottles of my own, but not enough to kit out the whole crew." She looked thoughtful. "I wonder if we can get some prosthetics? I learned how to make fake scars in Drama Club, that might help." She glanced at Akiva. "You wanted to pick up a few things, too." The ingredients to make the knock out drugs. She pulled out the "clean" datapad that she used on missions, wiped beforehand, and plugged it into a nearby terminal. "Let's see if there's any kind of map showing a list of vendors."

Akiva nodded in approval, although with a little reluctance. "There might be something. Feels more transient like Merchant Alley on some worlds. Beyond a few permanent booths, most are going to be whoever is just here on layover between gigs." She commented as she looked out at the crowd. The notion of temporary inks and prosthetic bits was a new one to her, but it sounded good. Of course the specter of money issues reared its head rather quickly. Most of her funds were tied up with her order for goods that she had in with the Captain of the tub that had brought them here. "I have a little as well. Some of the sleepy time I need should already be in the kitchen supplies at least. So, either we get a great deal, the trash here is superb, or do you think we have time to do a short job for the locals to ply our way?"

Max looked at her astromech. "Digs, anything around here that looks like beauty supplies?" The little R2 unit rolled the wall and plugged into a dataport. A moment latter, it trilled a response. "Factory irregulars? How is there such a thing as cosmetics that are factory irregulars?" Digger belched in bafflement.

She looked at Akiva and Malek. "Should we split up? Someone can do a scan of the trash. I'll go check out this entrepeneur selling... factory seconds."

"We could do that together." Ethan suggested. He felt that his former wingmate was still bitter towards him, but maybe if they would spent a moment together, maybe he could talk to her. Apologize for his mistakes and try to convince her of his plans. "I still have a few credits left, its not much but maybe it will do." In truth he had almost no money left after the auction but he felt that Max had other plans how to get the necessary equipment.

Max winced inwardly; he was the last person she wanted to be paired with again. But a mission was a mission; she only hoped he let her take the lead this time. She turned to Akiva. "And you...?"

"I'm fine with trolling the vendors trash heaps alone. We should exchange comms so we don't end up with five gallons of hair dye or industrial body paint though," She added with a smirk. The whole of the situation felt a little ridiculous to her, but this was the Rebellion, they at least had gotten the B-wing right. So here was to hope.

Max nodded. "Okay, then," she said. "Let's see how we do." She looked at the info Digger had sent to her datapad. A few places claiming to sell cosmetics, a few others offering beauty services. "You might try Gauza's on Level 3, Section 17, Booth 23. They advertise "exclusive salon treatments from Coruscant," they might have tossed something useful. I'll check out Level 7, interesting stuff there."

She nodded to Akiva, and shot a quick glance at Ethan. "Come if you're coming," she said, and headed towards one of the lifts, with her loyal droid rolling along behind her.

TAG: Anyone


OOC: Our team has been a bit busy IRL, so we'll probably have at least one or two back fills, but we'll get there.

 

​

IC: Major Beskaryc "Iron Hand" Taab
Aboard the Valkyria, docked at the Otoh Gunga

Taab watched through his T-Visor as the rest of the squadron departed, leaving him alone with Lieutenant Diamé and her pair of marines that were assigned to him as backup should the mission go wrong, something it was sure to do. The Black Sheep were pilots, not saboteurs, and hilariously out of their element in Taab's estimation, tasked with an nearly impossible mission. Their own moral objections that could be seen simmering just beneath the surface would make them even more prone to error. He and his team would be needed he thought to himself, that much was certain. Worse still, it was probably the only certainty of the mission.

With a nod he motioned the LT back aboard ship as the rest of the squadron moved out of sight, leaving the other two marines loitering outside to guard the vessel. Since they would be needed, he wanted to make some plans with the Marine officer. Sitting down at the Dejarik table he removed a code cylendar from a pouch at his belt and inserted it into a port on the side of the table. A topographical map of the area surrounding the villa appeared, hovering just over the board.

"Villa is on this island here in the middle of the lake," he pointed to it as the LT watched carefully. She took no written notes, but Taab could tell she was committing this all to memory. "Only way in and out for the squadron is by this causeway connecting to island to the mainland, by boat/replusor craft or by air." He gestured to the bulkheads around them. "For security purposes I'm sure the Imps will restrict villa access to the causeway only." She pursed her lips for a moment in thought before nodding her agreement. One checkpoint in and out would simplify their efforts, and Stormtroopers were all about keeping it simple.

"We'll have to set up somewhere on the opposite shore from the villa then..." she continued nodding, examining the map. It was rolling mostly hills surrounding the lake. The villa itself of course was standard Naboo architecture, domes and arches of polished stone. Tough stuff, it would be hard for the Black Sheep to bring that all down, though with the detonators they had been supplied with, it could be done. Even if just barely. She had been impressed with the impromptu briefing the Mandalorian had given the squadron. A bit dry perhaps for her tastes, these were pilots, not soldiers. She would have used a bit more humor to keep their spirits up, but she got the feeling Taab wasn't coming from the most stable emotional state either. She'd seen the signs of it before in her profession, Taab was hurting, and the only way he could deal with it was lashing out, luckily for all of them, at the Empire.

Still he had answered their questions, telling Mean Streak, the Devaronian that switching the thermal detonator back to safe even after activating the short three to five second fuse would indeed make the device safe as well as "restart the clock" the next time the switch was moved to the firing position. The second question had earned a hard look from the Major, one that could be felt even through his face plate. "I'll look into it," came the eventual reply. "But it shouldn't be an issue." There was something more there Diamé had thought. Something perhaps that Taab wasn't telling them, or perhaps that was just the Mandalorian's gruffer than normal demeanor.

Movement and nosie from the old freighter's boarding ramp grabbed Taab's attention and brought him back to the present. Some of the away teams were already returning, their arms filled with what they had procured. He and Diamé must have been at this longer than he thought Taab reasoned, seeing that in fact most of the squadron had made their way back. They disappeared into the various nooks and crannies of the Valkyria, the cargo holds, the machinery spaces and the crew quarters leaving the two soldiers to continue hashing out their own plans.

"Here," Taab said finally, pointing to a tall hill on the far side of the lake with a sight line on the causeway. "We set up an OP (observation post) here," Taab stabbed at the floating map which zoomed in to a point roughly midway to the top of the hill. It appeared to be heavily wooded. "We can set up a another OP farther up the hill if need be, spread us out a little as we watch over the flock." She smiled a bit at Taab referring to the remainder of the squadron as his flock. "If they get into trouble, we can provide covering fire from there while they make their escape." He shrugged. He had a jetpack and could jet over too if they really needed the help, while the remaining marines could still provide overwatch and cover fire if things got that bad. "Hopefully we won't be needed." he said, though his voice told her he didn't believe that even as she nodded her agreement. It was indeed all too likely that they would be called upon to extract the team...

"Major, El-Tee," the words came in over their secure comm circuit from one of the marines stationed outside. The concern in the man's voice was readily apparent. "You might want to come take a look at this."

OOC: The answered to Kayn's questions of Taab during his weapons briefing can be found in this post, just in case y'all were looking.

---

IC: Commander Flagg/Frogfoot (NPCs)
Otoh Gunga

"What do you think, Flagg?" Lou asked. The Commander now in a major's uniform turned to her slowly, nodding his head. "This is going to work." The Bothan, Frogfoot, again bared his fangs though this time in a smile and he clapped his hands together. "I knew it would," he said arrogantly. Flagg gave him a look but refrained from saying anything further to him aside from issuing new orders. "OK, let's change back for now." he said cracking the barest hint of a smile. "No need to strut about the outpost looking like Imperials." He began to take off his tunic. "Frogfoot, pack these up for us and deliver them to the Valkyria." The Bothan looked ready to protest he was a highly trained and skilled agent of the Alliance, not some delivery boy, but Flagg ignored him.

"Once we're changed let's head out to the promenade and see how everyone else is doing."

TAG: @TheAdmiral @Sarge221 @Vehn

---

IC: Beskaryc Taab
Aboard the Valkyria, docked at the Otoh Gunga

"Major, El-Tee. You might want to come take a look at this." Taab exchanged a glance with Diamé at the concerned marine's request and deactivated the holo emitters on the dejarik table before standing up. "Stay here," he ordered, much to the female marine's chagrin. "We may need you to act as backup for whatever has his spooked," he explained further even as he made his way towards the hatch. She nodded, understanding the Mandalorian's reasoning even if it frustrated her. Satisfied he headed down the boarding ramp and gave a low whistle at what he saw.

It was a ship, newly entered through the magnetic containment screen and making it's way towards a prime berth. Normally it wouldn't be something to be concerned about, just another old freighter going about it's business at at trading post, but now Taab could see what had the marine so concerned. This was no ordinary Action IV, the Imperial roundel emblazoned on the side was testament enough to that, and even if it weren't, the pair of military grade laser cannons and the launch bay no doubt containing a TIE fighter or two would be enough to convince even the most hardened pirate that this wasn't an easy target to be plucked. It was an Imperial Patrol Ship, a modified freighter used for customs duty. Why it had arrived here, just after the Black Sheep had done so Taab didn't know, but the curious timing bothered him. He watched as the ship settled down and a pair of stormtroopers exited the vessel, taking up positions guarding it's hatchway before a third individual, the Patrol Ship's commanding officer disembarked.

​

The man surveyed the docking ring briefly, his gaze barely touching upon the Valkyria before he stalked off towards the Otoh Gunga's head administrator, the Gunagn called Bolo Lappie who had also just arrived in the main bay and watched the ship land with what Taab interpreted as a wary look on his face. Taab took note that while the stormtroopers didn't accompany the unnamed officer, he appeared to be wearing Lieutenant's bars, the officer was armed with his own holstered blaster pistol. Taab suppressed a snort when the officer blindly ran into a green and white astro-mech that nearly ran over his feet. The officer looked annoyed as it bumped up against him, and waved a hand to the stromtroopers guarding their vessel to come take care of the problem even as he shooed the droid away and approached Lappie. The Stromtroopers rushed forward after the droid as the officer began to speak to their Gungan host, and Taab watched them, turning up the audio gain on his buy'ce (helmet) to listen in on what was being said.

"You know why I'm here," the Imp began with a sneer towards the Gungan and Taab slowly moved his hand closer to his own holstered blaster pistol. If they had to make an escape he would need to hold this position until the others returned. The Imperial held up his right hand and rubbed his fore and middle fingers against his gloved thumb, the the interstellar sign for hard currency. Taab relaxed, the man wasn't here for them, he was looking for a payout, a bribe. Perhaps he had a long standing arrangement with this Bolo, or perhaps it was an initial, but anticipated shakedown. Taab had no way of knowing that, but it was clear to him anyway that the ship's arrival so soon after their own had been a mere coincidence. Turning down the gain back to normal, Taab looked away from the pair. He could only overhear them if the gain was up and if he stared at them, and he didn't want to do that latter as it might attract attention. He had no doubt that duty to the Empire would over ride the corrupt officer's greed if the Black Sheep were discovered. Instead now he looked to the senior of the two marines who had been guarding the Valkyria's boarding ramp. The man was a professional, and Taab didn't even need to vocalize his question before the man spoke.

"Commander Flagg's team hasn't returned yet and neither have Wolf, Veteran or Max." Taab mulled that over for a moment as the corporal paused slightly. Flagg's team was out with Frogfoot to look over the Imperial uniforms procured for them. It shouldn't have been a task that would take up a lot of time, so something must have happened to delay them. Wolf, Veteran and Max meanwhile had been ordered to find anything that might bolster the group's disguises. That might take some doing, so their late return wasn't anything to worry about, yet. "Everyone else is back aboard ship sir." Taab raised an eyebrow behind his T-Visor at that. He had not expected things to go so smoothly for them. It should have been a good omen, but he knew better to believe in such. Their good fortune now just meant that even worse luck awaited them down the road. Looking again to the unguarded Imperial patrol ship and the pair of Stormtroopers now approaching the little green and white droid troublemaker gave him an idea of where it might come from.

TAG: @BobaMatt @zark @Adalia-Durron @galactic-vagabond422 @Corellian_Outrider @MasterFlowda @Rebecca_Daniels @Sarge @GenOochy @Mistress_Renata @Anedon @Mitth_Fisto

OOC: Welcome to the game Zarks, I'm sure you can come up with a fun reason for Belgium to have bumped the corrupt Imperial officer. Everyone else, keep doing what you're doing. Depending on where your characters are assume they also would have seen or heard about the arrival of the Imperial Customs patrol ship and act accordingly. The pair of Stormtroopers chasing Belgium are free use so deal with them as desired. Any questions, just ask away either via PM or in the X-Wing Fanclub.

 

IC: Belgium
Docking Bay of the Otoh Gunga

Belgium had had a disappointing day. He’d stowed away on three separate shuttles to frog-hop his way to this backwater planet, and his contact hadn’t shown up. How is a droid supposed to pay his bills when you don’t get the stuff you’re supposed to smuggle? It didn’t even cross Belgium’s mind that he had no bills. Still, disappointment aside, Belgium wasn’t one to waste opportunities while grieving the loss of a job. Belgium had at least six hours before a shuttle to Nar Shadaa would be available to sneak on to, so he’d gotten busy.

Belgium’s eye locked on a Duros across the bay, trying to determine if he looked like the sort to have anything of value on his person. Meatbags, and especially humans, weren’t put together very well. While a droid was vacuum tight, with well fitting parts and no chance of unwanted things breaking loose, meatbags typically lost things when you jostled them. Sometimes those things were datapads, credchips, security passes, and if you jostled them hard enough, teeth. Credchips were obviously welcome, but often the security passes and datapads were worth much more to the right buyer. Things as innocuous as weather data, or as insightful as active security investigation reports could sell for a lot. Sometimes Belgium even found fresh jobs from the data he gleaned from these datapads. Knocking over meatbags was probably the most entertaining way for Belgium to pass a day. The key was profiling. Guessing which meatbag actually carried the good stuff. This Duros wasn't it. Belgium emitted the small “wooooo” of an astromech sigh. The Duros was probably carrying nothing more than a couple creds, and definitely didn’t seem like the type to have any useful information.

However... This was interesting. The ship setting down in the hanger had an Imperial Crest on the side. While it never paid to stow away on Imperial ships for a ride as Belgium had learned from experience, they had extremely valuable information. Though it was rarely safe to get it. Belgium could usually get away with knocking people over because the aura of innocence surrounded astromech droids, and R2 units in particular. And with their reputation for endearing personality quirks, Belgium rarely got more than a rude look and a muttered curse for knocking someone over and sneaking away whatever shook out. But Imperials, they were a bit different from most meatbags. They were suspicious for one. And they tended to lock up their personal smuggling compartments, (called pockets) more securely than most. But the payoff was often incredible if a Belgium Patented Shake Down went well. When the door opened and two stormtroopers came out, Belgium's face would have fallen if it could have. Stormtroopers never have money. But when an officer came out and started across the landing pad without any escort following, Belgium perked up. This man looked like the type who thought himself more important than he was. And that type of man tended to carry things he should have left locked up in a drawer. After a brief moment of indecision, Belgium took off.

Rolling on an intercept course designed to jar the man, and ideally roll over his toes, Belgium’s mind raced. This was risky, and he knew it. He took a quick glance at the stormtroopers by the ship’s boarding ramp. They hadn’t noticed him yet. Fantastic. He fought the urge to go faster, trying desperately to appear casual. He was nearly to the man, it was a textbook run so far! Just then the man seemed to notice him and tried somewhat futilely to get out of the way. Belgium was forced to swerve slightly to ensure maximum contact. Man and droid mixed into an uncomfortable tangle for a moment, and Belgium was enormously disappointed when not only did the man keep his feet, but also his teeth and everything else on his person! Sithspit! All that and not even a credchip! Wait! There was something! As Belgium moved toward it he looked up and saw the stormtroopers. They were headed his way! Apparently the officer warranted THAT much of an effort by his escort at least. Well, this wasn’t the first time Belgium had made this particular mistake. He snatched the fallen card off the ground and took off toward one of the exits from the docking bay. A door to a maintenance corridor he remembered, so he shouldn’t have to sneak around customs again. Hopefully he could lose the stormtroopers in there.

TAG: anyone

OOC: Looks like everyone uses different colors for characters and dialog which is cool, if my mildly bright green becomes too eye-stabby, let me know. Most of the darker colors were already taken.

 

Maxime “Max” Pallas
Somewhere on the Otoh Gunga

Max hadn’t paid much attention to Malek, who was trailing along after her. She wanted to get this over with, especially since she really wasn’t sure how it was going to go. She looked wistfully at some of the booths and stalls as she passed them… if she hadn’t joined the Rebellion, she would could take her time, browse at leisure, try on some of the unusual and beautiful things she saw… but it was always the mission. The mission came first. And only when the Emperor was defeated, only when the Light was triumphant and the galaxy was at peace… only then would she and her family be safe. Only then could she let her guard down, and relax, and be the woman she really was inside.

Sometimes, when she lingered too long at a table, Malek would sidle up next to her, trying to talk to her about the mission, but she shushed him abruptly, appalled that he would mention something so sensitive in public, in the open! Who knew where the sympathies of the merchants lay? Or who they’d be willing to sell info to? Within the confines of the Valkyria, yes, fine. But here, in the broad corridor of the old lucrehulk, was not the place.

On the seventh level, she slowed her pace. There was a stall, broad tables and stacks of crates with colorful, elegant boxes and bottles displayed in rows. Yes. She retreated behind a corner, and took out a small bottle from her pocket. She dipped two fingers into it and ran it over her cheekbones and down her cheeks. The soft powder was invisible against her skin, but would blur her features on any video equipment aimed in her direction. After replacing the bottle in a pocket of her trousers, she pushed Malek into a nook next to the lift. “Wait here,” she said. “Don’t let the guy see you. Digs, with me.”

Shampoos and hair products from Ch’warss Copff, the famous hair supply house… make up and fragrances from Shanêl and L’Awreal… there were even a few crates of temporary tattoo paint from Sheesëdau, popular with the Twi’leks and other beings with sensitive skin. Mebleyn, Catwalker, Neutrongenie… all the biggest names in the galaxy, although… if you looked more carefully…

Max picked up a bottle of hair dye. The printing on the bottle was a little off-register, as if it had been done hastily. And the stitching on the leather bags that held the Shanêl was uneven… for that matter, it wasn’t even actually leather, the soft, supple nerfhide that Shanêl was known for. It was some type of synthetic. She looked at the crates. They seemed bare, but there was a piece of a label, a seal torn away… looking at the other crates, she found it.

IMPERIAL IMPOUND – TO BE DESTROYED.

Max smiled to herself. Yes, pirated goods. The makeup and haircare products weren’t from these exclusive luxury shops. Oh, the contents might have been made by the same manufacturers, but they were knock offs, being sold in cheaper packaging at a steep discount, with the actual companies never seeing a single cred. It looked as if the stall holder had gotten a hold of a consignment which had been seized and slated for destruction, and stolen it for resale. Fair enough, plenty of people did this. But he –she? He? Max considered…probably he—couldn’t then complain too loudly if someone stole it from him. Especially in a good cause. And she wasn’t going to clean him out, after all. She only needed a few bottles.

Let’s see… Lou and Adalia as brunettes… maybe the Kid as a red head? Flagg…here was silver. Malek… hm, blonde with gray… She selected several bottles, putting them in an empty crate. She added the eye dye drops, picking two of each color, and threw in two large bottles of blonde texturizer, which Akiva could use to alter her own fur. Temporary tattoo paint, a few bottles of that…

The owner, an Apornik, hurried over. “Bessht quality, laydy!” he slurred. “Verry finesht!”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” said Max. She held up a bottle. “Ch’warss Copff Fur Conditioner and Rinse?”

“Yessh, yessh, verry good shtuff! Verry good… you know Wookiees, hah? Or Both’ans? Yah, they use thissh shtuff… good for humans, too, make your fur soft!”

“Except Ch’warss Copff is spelled wrong,” Max pointed out.

“No no no no no, issh right!”

“No. Ch’warz Kopf? That’s not how the company name is spelled.”

The stall owner hesitated. “Little misshtake. Little, sso little. Ish why thish ish a bargain! Low price, verry low low.”

Max nodded as she picked up the crate. “It’s fake,” she said. “That’s why the Empire impounded it.” The stall owner went still, and looked anxiously up and down the hallway.

“No no no,” he said softly. “Empire? No, thish ish good shtuff!”

“No good,” said Max. “But I need this. For a good cause. I’m taking this, only what I need, and I will leave you the rest. Say nothing and we are fine. Make a fuss, and I’ll call the Empire in.” Ooo, wonder where Joy is right now? Quickly, she hefted the crate and began walking quickly back towards Malek.

“NO NO NO NO NO!” protested the Apornik. He hurried after her, grabbing at the back of her jacket. Digger rushed forward, extending his electro arc welder in a threatening manner. The Apornik evaded him and continued after Max. Digger hesitated, then turned towards the shop and deliberately barreled at high speed into one of the stallholder’s stack of crates, knocking them down with a crash. The falling crates knocked other piles and a few tables. Most of the bottles were plastene and could be recovered, but there were a few display bottles of glass, which went down with a crash. The stall holder shrieked, turning to look.

Max ran at top speed around the corner and thrust the box at a puzzled Malek. “Get this back to the ship! I’ll lead him off!” she hissed. The older man stood gaping as Max quickly ran in the other direction.

“YOU YOU YOU!” The Apornik took off after her, not noticing that the crate of stolen goods was now missing. Max wasn’t too worried about outrunning him, since she was nearly a foot taller, but she wanted to keep him away from Malek, so she ran slowly. She rounded a corner, and paused. There were two stormtroopers running towards her. She barely registered the small green and white droid rolling ahead of them.

Without a thought, she dived between the curtains of the nearest booth, and turned to peek out through a crack. Digger had spotted them, too, and quickly rolled up next to a trash bin, freezing in place. The winded Apornik turned the corner, spotted the stormtroopers, and shrieked, racing off in the other direction. Max exhaled.

“So you come for some company or what?”

Max turned and blinked. There were piles of cushions on the floor, with several scantily-dressed beings of various races and species lounging around, staring at her. Beyond them, she could see the bottom of a landing ramp, with a drapery across it. As she watched, a large Devaronian woman emerged, fastening her jacket, and brushed past Max as she left.

The young Corellian woman blushed. “I thought this was the ‘fresher,” she mumbled. She took one more quick peek, and started to leave.

“Hey!” Max turned back. A large, multi-breasted, Akivian stood with her fists on her hips. “You’re not even gonna pay for a peek? No freebies! This ain’t no art gallery!”

Max fished in a pocket and found a cred. “Clearly,” she muttered, tossing it towards the woman and slipping through the curtain. The passage seemed clear. No sign of the angry stall holder or the stormtroopers. Digger was waiting, and whistled.

“Split up,” she said. “I’ll meet you back at the ship.” Quickly she moved, anxious to get back to her squadron mates.

OOC:
The luxury beauty products are courtesy of @Chyntuck, who created many of these in the Fanon thread over in Fan Fiction.

I wanted to do a joint post with @Anedon, but my vacation came too quickly, and I want to get this up before I leave.

 

OOC: Many thanks to @TheAdmiral for another wonderful joint post!!

IC: Louise "Lou" Gray
Otoh Gunga

Lou put away her Imperial uniform and found herself back in her regular clothing. Much like her days in the Empire her wave of nostalgia was gone. Now she found herself staring wistfully at the past while keeping a wary eye on her future. Her thoughts drifted once more to the mission at hand. There was a lot riding on this one. Almost too much for the impromptu Black Sheep to handle. Her gut told her there'd be more to the mission, some unexpected curve, maybe a few unexpected casualties. They'd lost several people she hadn't met on the last one. What would the death toll be this time?

Lou's eyes met Jocelyn's. The two former Imperial's had formed a close bond and maybe even a close friendship. She knew she could trust Jocelyn with her life. That was something in this ragtag galaxy. That helped bring Lou out of the hard shell she'd built for herself to survive this shooting mess. She stepped forward and quietly drew Jocelyn away from the others.

"Our uniforms give us a better chance now," Lou pointed out, "doesn't mean we won't be spotted when the party comes crashing down all around us, though. It's not like I'm a recognizable face that the Empire is looking for but if the Death's Head squadron is there and I run into my ex I promise you now it won't end well."

Lou paused and poked her head back out into the main concourse of the Lucrehulk.

"For him."

Jocelyn considered what Lou had told her. She was her friend, maybe the only one left... well aside of Skipper. She was not sure whether Ianna would like her company anymore given her stark opposition to the mission.

"And I used to command that Squadron, though your husband must be a new addition to it. I hope that Anais won't be there... I don't know what I am going to do."

"He must've recently," Lou replied, "and the only thing I can make of that is he wanted out of the flight school and into the war. Our little rendezvous in the space above Naboo proved to me that he hasn't quite mastered the Defender. He's good, don't get me wrong, but he's no expert."

Lou sighed and shook her head, "I think we do what we can always do. Make a difference. No matter what the risk to ourselves might potentially be. Some causes are worth fighting for and others are worth dying for but don't you think for a second I'm going to go martyr myself for the cause."

Lou shook her head and added, "I'm a long way from home. I'm an even longer way from the woman who left home. I need to ask you a favor. I need to know that if this thing goes south on me you won't hesitate to pull the trigger. Don't let me fall captive to the Empire. You know we're both better than that."

"If Anais is there I will make sure to keep you safe," Lou said, "although I know you can take care of yourself. You think the uniforms will get us in?"

Joy looked down "I would ask the same of you. Don't let me do anything stupid, like trying to get Anais. I still love her and I am not sure what I am going to do."

She looked around "I want to share something with you, and only you. While with the Empire I had murdered innocents, though at the time I didn't know they were that. I had to shoot down a freighter with alleged criminals who were trying to escape. Later I found out that these were just opposition leaders and the ship was not even armed. Don't get me wrong, I will carry out this mission, but Ianna's words hit home."

Jocelyn smiled at the last question "It's a fifty-fifty chance, they are very low ranking, though we might be considered to be part of the security detachment."

Lou nodded and knew she had a pact with Joy that couldn't be easily broken. She listened as Joy told her of murdering innocents. There was no judgement in her mind, no preconceived ideas that she needed to fight through, no political ideology to hold her up. Lou allowed Joy's words to flood over her and took them in one at a time.

"Your tale stays with me, Joy," Lou replied, "and I am the last person to stand here and judge you for what you did. In your defense you didn't know that the freighter was unarmed and filled with innocents. You were doing your job. You were keeping your squadron safe. Sometimes, however, that can lead to mistakes."

Lou grew quiet as she thought about her own dark past. She had never told Joy about why she was sick leading up to the Battle of Yavin. She hadn't gotten along with Gold Squadron shortly after she joined the unit before Scarif. They'd harassed her, made life difficult, once they found out she was an Imperial defector. They never fully trusted her.

"The thing is that Command told us these were dangerous criminals. I am not trying to make excuses, I am just saying that my hands are stained." she sighed "I was never an idealist, maybe for a time I believed in the Empire... in a sense I still do, but in a reformed one. I don't want to lose Ianna, but on the other hand we have our orders and they make sense."

"Command," Lou sighed, "Maker they could be difficult at times. The endless requisitioning of supplies, equipment, away from the front lines and toward the Moffs, the higher ups. Sickening. Airen, my plane captain, told me all about his fight on Jedha. Terrible stuff. I hear you about idealism. It never served me well, either. I joined the Empire because I needed a job, because I needed security for my family. I don't know if I believe in anything political but I do know that I believe in making it through the day in one piece. In the end I just want to go home to Tesserone. Hang up this helmet but I can't do that until I have my revenge."

Lou paused and ran a hand through her hair, "We won't lose Ianna. She's young, she's idealistic, she's in so many ways everything we should be that we are not. You and I are trained soldiers. Professionals. We aren't about to waver when the orders get tough. This fight is more than hearts and minds, Joy, it's about something so much more. We're going to go into this wedding and blow it to smithereens. We may be stopped by the others but don't let them."

"Please..." Lou nearly begged her friend.

"I won't be stopped, I will carry out the mission, don't worry." there was a grim determination in her voice. "My only concern is Anais, I am not sure I can hurt her." she looked down.

"We may not have to," Lou replied, "and we may not even get the chance."

She paused as a commotion in the main concourse drew her attention. An astromech had just stolen something from a pair of stormtroopers. Lou suppressed a laugh as the white idiots chased after the astromech droid in a frantic game of vornskyr and rodent. She turned back to Joy who'd also seen what had happened in the main concourse and shook her head, "Imperial company. Not good."


Before she could reply Joy's attention was caught by the astromech. What was going on? She frowned, they should not interfere and should avoid any Imperial entanglements. "We best avoid them, we don't need any trouble."

"We need to disappear," Lou replied.

"Let's head back to the ship," she added as she stepped out into the concourse and slowly made her way behind some booths back toward the Valkyria and safety.

Tag: @TheAdmiral; @Bardan_Jusik

 

Combo post with Addy. As usual, sparks fly.

IC: Amber, Kayn
Near Valkyria

Having completed her preparations, Amber picked up the green cloak she'd also bought and made her way to the gangplank of the ship to wait for the others. She wasn't always decisive and that made things like preparation pretty fast so it didn't surprise her that she was ready when only a few others were. There was a part of her that was grateful she'd been able to use her own money to make the others look really good, she was particularly proud of the gown she'd picked for Zara and how it complimented the Twi'leks skin tone. It was also gratifying to see the smile on Ianna's face when she'd found something that made her feel pretty. Leaning against the support strut she allowed herself a small smile as the cost of that gown, it was expensive but it didn't matter. Her nerves were calm right now, but she knew things were only going up hill in that department from now on.


Kayn was finally finished taking his new suit on its first test run, using his peripheral vision to check for reactions to his appearance, especially from the pretty young things walking the promenade. Eventually he made his way back to the hangar and sauntered casually toward the Valkyria. And there was another pretty young thing, the last one he wanted to run into. Vixen was loitering at the ramp, leaning on a strut and trying to look casual as she waited to check him out in his overly tight-fitting pants. Yeah, that figures. I'm going to have to let her down easy, he thought. But not until after this mission is over; if I break her heart and she goes into another one of her psycho melt-downs, she could get me killed.

As he neared the freighter, he slowed, trying to figure out what to say to her before he got there. A green and white astromech rolled past, drawing his attention to an Imp officer. When did he get here? What's he want?


She'd been watching the antics of a small droid in the distance when a movement toward her caught her attention. Moving only her eyes she looked to see what it was and was almost disappointed at what or more so who was approaching. Kayn. He seemed to be sauntering like he was proud of himself and that boggled the mind in his overly tight suit. 'Wait, maybe I went the wrong way with the suit?' she mused, 'Bigger might have been better.' Her attention was drawn back to the droid as it rolled past in front of her nemesis and a quick glance sideways showed it had attracted some Stormtrooper and Imperial officer like attention. As it went past with its pursuers, she frowned slightly as she pushed off the strut and took a few steps toward Kayn.

"Did you see that?" She hissed, watching the group disappear.


Something had distracted her attention from Kayn?! Well, that was probably a good thing. Considering her question, he accessed his neural implants. Sensors were recording, and it only took him a moment to review what had just happened.

"Sure, the droid shook down the Imp and lifted something, probably a datacard. Could get ugly if he notices it's missing. We'd be wise to mind our own business and not draw attention to ourselves."

"Yeah, pretty sure the droid did it on purpose. Wonder who it's working with?" she thought out loud, her eyes still following it. "Doesn't matter." She turned back to him,"Where you been?" she asked knowing she'd bought the overly tight suit back to the ship for him.

"Stretching my legs while I have a chance. We've got a lot of people on a small ship."

Kayn turned toward the maintenance hatch the errant droid had rolled through. A thought occurred to him.

"That droid, it was green and white. Is that Kid's R2 unit? Aren't those her favorite colors? If it's one of ours, maybe we'd better follow it and try to keep it out of trouble. If it comes back to us with stolen Imp gear, that could crash the op before it starts."

He turned his sensors, trying to pick up the electronic signature of the R2 unit as it hurried away.

"No? Is it?" She wasn't sure but best be safe than sorry. She instinctively wrapped her cape over she shoulders and slipped her arms into the sleeves. "Ok, let's go then."

"Last I saw it, it was heading this way."

As he ducked his head to keep his horns clear of the low doorway, he glanced at her.

"That's quite the lovely dress you're almost wearing, but not quite the thing for sneaking through maintenance corridors. Wouldn't you rather wait here while I take care of this business?"


She hated his tone, condescending and almost insulting, but he was right, she hated to admit it. Pulling the cape around her shoulders to cover herself she growled. "Of course, go, be a hero, it's what you do best."

Kayn was surprised, not at her tone, but at the fact that she had agreed to stay behind. Don't look a gift taun-taun in the mouth! he thought.

He paused to pull off his jacket and hand it to her. "Here, I'd better not get any grease stains on this. Just hang it up in the ship, don't feel obliged to iron it or anything."

Why did I say that? Paladin was right; I'd be much better off if I'd shut my mouth and not aggravate people just because I can. To be fair, he also told me I'm awfully good at it.

She took the jacket and glared at him as she rolled it into a ball. "Don't worry, I won't." She said stepping backwards. "Be careful, that suits worth a fortune." Spinning she re entered the ship and as she turned a corner, angrily tossed the jacket into a corner muttering "Arrogant son of a........" ​

Kayn winced at the way she treated his jacket. Great, now I have to go to the wedding in a wrinkled suit. I really should have shut my mouth. But, no time to do anything about it now, that droid is getting away. As he hurried down the corridor, he accessed the squadron personnel files in his neural memory banks and confirmed that Kid normally flew with a green and white R2 unit, nicknamed Pat. Of course, she's always wearing that oversized Patriots jersey, that's why it's named Pat. Maybe I'd notice these connections more often if I paid more attention to people. And droids. So, where did it go?

TAG: @Adalia-Durron @zark

 

IC: Ianna Mcear
Valkyria, docked at the Otoh Gunga

Ianna found a little quiet place, something in short supply onboard the increasingly small ship. She changed back into the dress maybe for a little bit, get used to it and such. Holding the lighter in her hand her mind wondered, where would she put it? The dress had no pockets anywhere to be seen and it wasn't like she thought to take a purse with her. She didn't really bring anything, outside of the lighter. There was a sense of...of not really happiness but, some positivity. Her Amber, Meanie and Ethan had a plan, fill the place with smoke and rush out. Ruin the day and mission in one fell swoop. She wouldn't let the others stain their hands, nor would she.

When were they going to see, they didn't need to go as far as the Empire, didn't need to steep their hands in the crimes of their enemies. Just because it would win the war didn't make it right. What was the point of toppling the Empire we just replaced it with something just as cruel, with people with hearts just as blackened.

No.

No she wasn't going to let this happen, even she had to burn the whole building down, set fire to every scrap of wood or fabric she could find she would do it.

She flicked the lighter again, watching the flame rise from it. There was something comforting and warm about it. She didn't bring it too close, not wanting to set herself on fire, but she held it as close as she dared. It's little orange light gave her hope, just a little bit of it. What was that saying Maniac and the other older pilots kept saying…

'Rebellions are built on Hope.'

Well this would be her rebellion within the rebellion. If her orders are wrong, she won't follow them, she will find a way around them.

Taking a breath she decided to take a walk in the dress let everyone get a look at her. Was this just her way of getting attention or just wanting to get accustomed to walking in this thing? It wasn't tight or constricting but, it was different, something she would have to get used to. The shawl around her shoulders did also hem her in a little though she did like the little polished metal pin that held it in place.

She'd also need to talk with her partner, Buck figure out their story and all that.

Walking out she did her best not to just stomp around like she normally did in her thick soled boots, her feet protested slamming into the hard metal deck of the Valkyria. She would have to be more soft, quieter with her footsteps. She wasn't just some farmgirl anymore she was supposed to be some Naboo Lady or some foolishness was like that. All she knew was the stuff she saw in holos her mom used to watch. The stiff back the hands folded in front walking with an even gate.

Ianna tried to mimic it but, ended up going too, too far, her 'even' gate was more like take a step...pause, take another step, pause, repeat until she reached her destination which was were exactly?

She didn't know until she found Amber leaning against the posts of the boarding ramp. She came to stand next to her looking up lip quirking a little.

"So…" she started rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet, watching Meanie stalk away towards something. Ianna put that away for now there were other things to talk about. "How are you doing?" The young pilot waiting for another beat. "And how are the...um...other things, for the thing going?" she asked maybe being a little too transparent asking how preparations for Operation: Smokesrceen was going.

TAG: @Adalia-Durron