Star Wars OPEN Paradoxical Echoes: An Original Trilogy Game (Always Accepting New Players)

IC: Gwen Levric
Auxiliary hangar, Darkest Night, hyperspace.

"If I set up the shuttle training, would you follow through with slicer training? I don't want to loose her talent and skills. After all, only real adults see such value in things beyond what a report tells them."

The words real adults, and the way Sandy said them, caught Gwen unexpectedly. Which was bad, of course, when one lived in a world where the unexpected could end up with you being very, well, dead. That was the most-cases scenario, anyway.

"I'd be happy to arrange for Markova's slicer training, as long as it's approved from on high," Levric said. "Some of my team are excellent slicers; I could certainly set something up."

She paused. Should she? Sandy wasn't ISB, as far she knew, and he wasn't a member of her own service, but it was, well, dangerous to trust. There had been that promise of damage, of course. Yet Levric was Corellian, so she was going to blame it on that, and hope that her thus-far regular amount of Corellian Luck would be available and in play.

"If we're being philosophical," Gwen said, "it's rather more children that can usually see beyond the regular and the mundane. It's adults who have lost the magic and wonder of childhood, in my observation. But if you're proposing that Real Adults remember what it was like to be a child, and remember the magic, remember the potential in regular things and people, I find that very intriguing. Do tell, what do real adults talk about when they know they're looking beyond mere reports?"

It was unlikely, of course, that there was any connection here, and she was probably just being paranoid, but still, hopefully it wouldn't hurt to see where this went.

TAG: @Bravo

 

IC: Elena Shan
Tactical Training Environment Room, Trooper Barracks, Darkest Night

Elena watched as they began to attack their targets, when they started to get boxed in and the ones that had been shooting at Elena were coming closer, she took her opportunity and fired quickly, popping up and hitting a "Rebel", dropping low as they dropped themselves. She moved around her cover to the next, firing again as she rolled behind a low; crumbling wall. She shot and missed an artilleryman, and frowned as they got closer. Elena turned to her side and notice how close the Artillery gun was before she radioed Animal again, knowing that he was sure to be under fire as well.

"When we get clear I want charges on the Artillery guns." Elena ordered, leaning over and firing again. She winched as a shot grazed her arm and nearly dropped her blaster. Elena swore in pain and fired, hitting the artillery man and wounding him severely. The others advancing on her position were few now and Elena threw another thermal detonator that crippled them. She looked over in time to see the men Animal had sent coming towards her and she stood up; although shakily, rushing over and squeezing the shoulder of the nearest man. "Let's move, we need to get the Sargent."

Tag: @Bravo

 

IC: Sergeant First Class Adrias Stark
One of many Freshers, Javin Oversector Command & Administrative Complex

Adrias almost said that it was natural not to include these details in the report. But he simply nodded. There was nothing else to be said. He wanted to be as far away from the ISB as possible. Also wanted to stay clear of activities related somehow to Vader. Though if he played his cards right that could put him on the fast track to promotion and the coveted Death Trooper or Shocktrooper training.

But he had to be cautious as he might choke on his own aspirations if not careful. Working with Vader could be a death sentence as the mysterious man… machine… whatever possessed some sort of power that could kill you without even moving a muscle. Added to that a short temper. No thank you. He wanted to advance but that was suicide.

Adrias wondered how the Captain was related to all this. Nevertheless it would be good to stay on his good side. Let him deal with Vader, Adrias will be the model soldier ‘Yes, sir! No, sir!’ the perfect soldier. Though will have to walk the line and exhibit just enough initiative to show the man that he was Special Forces material. But first will have to learn more about his new posting and about the man who will be leading him. It will be a slow and methodical work. After all he did not want to make the rookie mistake to rush headlong into things. Study, observe, learn then act.

The situation in the mess hall brought him back to reality. So far he had just been nodding and replying politely, but now had to get back into the action. The news that there were wounded civilians incoming stunned him for a second. One of his weaknesses was that he was too compassionate towards the civies and that sometimes hindered him from doing his job. So that could prove problematic.

Adrias saluted at the Captain and ran towards the guest quarters to get ready. Hopefully this day will end soon…

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

Hearing the briefing made his blood run cold. Those blasted terrorists. They had stooped so low to use civilians to hit military targets. He did not wish to be in the place of the officer who ordered the cruise liner to be shot down. Adrias was not sure whether he would have been able to make that call. Something that he had to think about. A weakness that must be excised if he was to advance further. Besides he was serving the greater good and the blame was sorely on the terrorists.

He sighed silently. He would do his duty. ”Sir, the unit is ready to for the mission, sir!” Adrias reported.

TAG: @Bravo

 

IC: Sandy
Auxiliary Hanger Bay (Forward Hanger), Darkest Night; hyperspace


So she knew.

But would she be able to do what was needed when the time was right?

Sandy smiled and inclined his head, "Until next time, Miss Levric."

He started to walk away, then turned around and said, "I'll make sure everything is set up through the higher ups. Your understanding in these events will not go unnoticed."

Then he turned & walked away again. Now, at this moment, was not the time to discuss such matters. And, he bet, not for some time. Sandy would first have to secure his own future with the Darkest Night's new command officer, then he would have to vet not only the new CO, but also any new crew he brought with him. Where at one point the crew of the Darkest Night would follow the late Englewood to his dying breathe, this new CO could very well gut the crew & start over.

After all, it was easier to control a new crew without loyalties then it would be a crew with loyalties.

The seed was planted, however, with Gwen Levric. Now, it would be up to the Force and, Sandy expected, a healthy dose of intervention by the House of Royal Intelligence.

Soon, Sandy's form disappeared all together from the hanger bay. Deep down, Sandy understood that his time here was limited. Very limited. And he could only hope that the seed was enough.


TAG @Laine_Snowtrekker



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

IC: Commander Julie "Jules" Viper
Unit Command Office (Forward Hanger), Darkest Night; hyperspace


Well, Sandy thought, that could have gone better. Across the office and on the other side of her desk, Commander Julie "Jules" Viper was wiping the coffee she recently spitted out off of her uniform and desk with a napkin. Her look added insult to injury.

"Now, aide-de-camp, you are going to explain that all of this is a practical joke?" she picked up the data-pad in her lap and looked at the orders again, raising an eyebrow and looked at Sandy, "Right?"

"No ma'am," Sandy replied straight faced, "Its all there, as it should be."

Julie sighed as she put the datapad down on the desk by the used napkin, "Sandy, I'm not quite sure how to explain this to you. But, Commodore Englewood is dead and, as such, your position is quite honestly obsolete."

"I have the Commodore's last standing orders before his death, Commander," Sandy replied frankly, "And per Imperial protocol, I have an obligation to fulfill those orders until a replacing command officer nullifies those standing orders. Captain Totter has yet to retract those standing orders and, as you can see on the order itself before you, is verified by him after the Commodore's death. With all due respect, Commander, you are known as a protocol hawk. Is that not the correct definition of the protocol?"

Sandy could feel the Commander's death glare on him as much as he could see her staring laser bolts at him. With a frustratted grunt, the Commander replied, "Straight out of the text book," she adjusted uncomfortably in her seat as she glanced at the datapad before putting it down again, "And I have authority as the 714th Special Operations Shuttle Group's commanding officer to delay authorizing that order, both on grounds of impracticality and on grounds of, I have no obligation to approve this personnel transfer into my unit for another two days. Which means I can get the new commanding officer to override this order's authority."

"And, Commander, what would that accomplish? Other then showing the new commanding officer you'll running your own little empire down here? You would make yourself a target for transfer yourself."

Julie took a sip of her coffee and stared at Sandy, "I hope you would want to rephrase that comment."

Sandy shook his head, "No, ma'am. I think my point is taken as it should?"

Julie nodded, "Unfortunately, I agree with you," she took a moment to look at the order again, her eyes scanning over several pieces of info; then she looked up, "And what is this that I am to provide her with equipment to one of my shuttles for....technical computer sciences. Don't you mean slicing?"

"Indirectly, Commander," Sandy confirmed, "You know how Military Intelligence can be these days with these hap-hazard unit formations to adjust to new threats."

That was a lie. Well, kind of. Military Intelligence had no say in this order beyond Lieutenant Levric's blessing, but the order read as if MI was very directly involved. A wordsmith always had their way with words to convey a point. Sandy would know, he wrote the order himself.

"So, let me ask this," Julie looked up, "Is she a navigational starship pilot, shuttle pilot, or a slicer?"

"Navigational Captain Natalia Markova is all those things, Commander. We just need the environment & vehicle to prove it."

"Prove it to who?"

"I wish I knew, Commander. I'm just following my orders."

"Your last orders, Sandy, as aide-de-camp. I'll make sure of it after this stint. Do we have an understanding?"

"Even without your intervention, Commander, I very much doubt service beyond Javin in the Empire's name. As you pointed out earlier, I'm obsolete."

Julie smiled like a predator who won the hunt, "I'm glad you see things my way."


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


Several minutes later.....


The former aide-de-camp was long gone by the time Julie went through the appropriate channels & got Natalia Markova's direct comm channel, "Navigational Captain Markova, this is Commander Viper of the 714th Special Operations Shuttle Group. I need your immediate dispatch to my office in the Forward Hanger Bay. I have orders for a temporary training assignment."


TAG @galactic-vagabond422

 

IC: Natalia Markova
Bridge, Darkest Night

Natalia had returned to her station getting back into her rhythm. It let her drop the thought spiral that had been dominating her mind. She was a failure or she had fallen short of expectations. Numbers were better than people, numbers didn't have ulterior motives, didn't have expectations that she could fail to meet. They would never turn against her. Math was math, it was always the same, and were there were issues, she could untangle them, no trying to figure out what they wanted or talk to them. All she needed to do was run calculations again and again until she found the solution.

Unfortunately, she could not remain in her comfortable world of figures. Her personal com chirped to life,

"Navigational Captain Markova," A stern voice rang over the small comlink, "this is Commander Viper of the 714th Special Operations Shuttle Group. I need your immediate dispatch to my office in the Forward Hanger Bay. I have orders for a temporary training assignment."

Part of her didn't want to go, this was not part of her duties, not something within her purview or even what she was necessarily trained to be. However orders were orders, and a good servant of the Emperor follows orders of those above her. She quietly finished her calculations, handing off her station to another, and began the long walk down to the hangar, datapad still in hand. It wouldn't leave her person, it had kept her safe down on the planet, it was her best tool to solve problems. Though this one wouldn't be so easy to crack with it. It wasn't like she could write a program to fly the shuttle in the time she had to make her way to Commander Viper's office.

She kept her head up, it wouldn't do for her to show up with slumped shoulders and a hung head.

TAG: @Bravo

 

IC: Gwen Levric
Darkest Night, auxiliary hangar, hyperspace

Sandy smiled. It was a downright enigmatic smile, one Gwen remembered seeing on Uncle Gerik's face in the holo the family had, a smile that Gwen associated with Jedi and with secrets. Well, a holo the Levrics once had--her father had either disposed of it or hidden it or something shortly after Empire Day. Too dangerous to keep such mementos, such connections to previous governments, around, out in the open, especially with her parents' jobs. Too dangerous when they had the boys and Gwen to look after.

It was for similar reasons that she'd had that big fight with her parents and left them and her siblings behind when she'd joined Military Intelligence. Too dangerous to be connected, too dangerous to have them as obvious liabilities when the work required submerging herself into roles she didn't particularly want, but which were necessary to assume in order to create the safety and security, and, yes, the peace desperately needed in the Galaxy. That's what she told herself, anyway, when she missed her parents, missed her brothers, missed her niece, missed the life she might have had if Empire Day had never had happened.

"Until next time, Miss Levric," he said, turning and walking away. That wasn't an answer to her question; that was an end to the conversation. And Levric didn't even have time to bristle at being referred to as Miss rather than Lieutenant when Sandy looked back over his shoulder and said, "I'll make sure everything is set up through the higher ups. Your understanding in these events will not go unnoticed."

And then he walked away again and disappeared into the crowd.

What.

Of course he could be referring to setting up Markova's training, but if he had, he'd probably would have said something about the officer and her training. This, coupled with the enigmatic smile, was baffling. All these years in intelligence work, and she didn't understand what they'd just been talking about. Wasn't sure on how to find out more, if there was even more to find out. And if there was more to find out, and she did find it out, her situation could be even more precarious than it already was.

Intelligence work was always precarious.

Throw that on top of incoming new brass and just the general bone-weariness of it all, and it was simply overwhelming.

Gwen just hoped that beings other than her remembered how precarious intelligence work was, and how precious life was. Levric watched him go before turning her own feet toward her quarters or the squad room, wanting to be anywhere other than here.

Why weren't there any simple answers?

TAG: @Bravo

 

IC: Reen G'Spaugh, Alex Qipao19, Baille Harte
Location: Dark Nebulae squadron pilot lounge

Reen settled back in the luxurious black synthleather armchair, teeth gritted in anticipation of pain from her ribs, which in fact, didn't come.

"I've missed these." She announced to the room, looking across to the master chef as he pulled his hat off his artificial foot.
"Looks a little scuffed. Maybe a little more than scuffed." He chuckled softly at the rag in his hand.

"So, Alex, you said something about toasting Commodore Englewood?"

Qipao19 had manouevered her hoverchair out of the way, and landed heavily on the seat to her right.

"Baille, can you break out the D-K, and some clean glasses, please?

"Sure thing." She stepped over to a wood-fronted cabinet, and pulled the front panel open and down, revealing several bottles, and stacked shot glasses. She selected four from the top, and brought them and the bottle over to the low coffee table that all the occupied chairs were around. She set the bottle down, and started to separate the glasses.

Tag: @Mitth_Fisto

 

IC: Stormtrooper Captain Kurt Stein
Ocean, ten miles from Javin Oversector Command & Administrative Complex


Kurt looked out the side of the trooper hold of the IDT as the pilots did a lazy circle around the crashed C-3 Passenger Liner, whose first half of the ship was crumpled into the shallower water at a rough slanted angle, showing clear stress & breaking points in the rest of the ship's hull that seemed to angle backwards in a snap like picture back into deeper water (the still smoking engines and aft of the vessel completely under water in the deeper end). Ahead of the crashed liner's bow was an island, roughly 30 yards away. Bodies in life vests and bodies not life vests were dotting the ocean as panicked survivors bobbled in the water near the vessel, on life boats, or making a run for the island.

The island was the logical staging & recovery point, with hosts of survivors already getting ashore and some forming human chains out to the water to get survivors. Local fishermen boats, luxury yachts, and local emergency crews were already on scene, which complicated things from a military point of view. Now, the terrorists could be mixed up with the survivors. Which, naturally, would make identifying threats very hard. But, luckily, emergency crews not only saw the logistical chaos of the issue and were using the small island as their own staging area, the handful of law enforcement types on scenes probably saw the same threats Kurt did.

"Captain," yelled back the co-pilot, "We're getting communications from the emergency crews. Their asking for assistance to evacuation the wounded."

"Denied," Kurt said back, "No one leaves that island. Instruct law enforcement that all boats are to direct their travel towards the island and will not leave until granted permission to do so. Set up emergency services on the island and collect the wounded and able bodied there."

"Yes, sir," the co-pilot turned back to his duties and relayed the message. A few moments later and the co-pilot turned back around to Kurt, "Sir, they're asking on who's authority?"

Kurt felt his blood boil, even if just for a moment, as he reminded himself he was dealing with civilians and not military, "Captain Kurt Stein, Stormtrooper Corps. This is being considered a terrorist act and the Corps is taking over command and control until otherwise stated. Make it clear, pilot, there is no other option unless I say so."

The co-pilot nodded, "Yes, sir."

"Captain?" yelled Kurt towards the primary pilot, who tilted his head over his shoulder to show he was listening, "Dispatch both IDT's towards the island to deploy troopers for security and screening of passengers. Lieutenant Radison is in charge as command and control on my previous orders. One IDT is grounded on standby to save fuel, the other ensures no boats or shuttles leave that island. Then take us to the ship. We're going inside. Stay on station for support."

The pilot nodded, "As ordered."


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

Kurt watched the last of the zip lines to be hauled up from the IDT and he gave a thumps up for the IDT to resume circling patterns around the crash site. As the drop ship lazily disembarked, Kurt brought his attention to where they had landed: the large crack inside the hull where a handful of survivors were still coming out and emergency crews were assisting them into lifeboats or life vests and directing them towards the island.

"You three," Kurt pointed to a group of three Stormtroopers from his IDT, "Stand guard at this opening. Report every five minutes."

"Yes, sir," the stormtroopers all said and moved to more defensible sentry positions, to watch both the outside and inside of the forced new entrance into the ship.

Kurt took a glance down below, where emergency crews furthermore had set up a rope and ladder system down into the ship, with sprakrs flying & fires in areas and water flooding other levels. He then looked at the 14 other stormtroopers with him.

He looked at one group of stormtroopers, "You five, track the largest contingent of survivors the rescuers are directing towards the surface and start scanning IDs and searching for people who don't match the passenger or crew list or who stand out as troublesome. Detain them and wait for backup from maritime reinforcements. Go."

The five stormtroopers nodded and left. He then turned to Adrias, "Take these four other stormtroopers and secure the engines. Check for the same problems with crew and passenger lists. Make sure there's no one trying to blow this ship in the reactor core. Secure the engines & reactor core and wait for backup from maritime reinforcements. I'll take a team to the bridge and do the same. Go, Adrias."

As Adrias disappeared with his four stormtroopers into the ship, Kurt looked at his four troopers and said, "Okay, lets go."


TAG @TheAdmiral

OOG: Admiral, I'm giving you freedom to describe your environment and actions as you see fit (much like a FanFic). Post to your heart's content, as long as its not airing on the side of God Moding. Tag me back when you come to a place in your writing that you need Kurt's interaction. Go have fun!

 

IC: DW-418121 ("Animal"; Craig Anthony Stewart), Second Squad (Joker Platoon), etc.
Tactical Training Environment Room, Trooper Barracks, Darkest Night


Craig watched as the stormtroopers made their way back out of the maze of trenches that made the artillery placement. It had gotten a little hairy in there, but no worse for wear on storming a fortified enemy position.

At least no deaths, which was always a positive.

He placed a few shots on simulated enemy tangos forcing their way back through the trenches as the stormtroopers retreated, trying to crush their fall back. But the Master Sergeant kept any real progress in check. By the time the LT was back, the artillery pieces were aflame as the charges blew and---in the process---eliminating any meaningful resistance to their plans.

The objective had been completed and as Animal stood up, the holograms faded away to reveal the nakedness of the simulation room and any "hard" barriers retreated back into the floor. The lights snapped to life as the last traces of the simulation faded away at the far end of the Tactical Training Environment Room.

"Lieutenant?" Animal asked, looking for a response of how they did, as he took off his helmet and held it upside down from inside the helmet with a hand as the other Second Squad members gathered around loosely.


TAG @TheSilentInfluence

 

IC: Commander Julie "Jules" Viper
Unit Command Office (Forward Hanger), Darkest Night; hyperspace


It had been a few minutes now. Mostly minutes that Julie kept Navigational Captain Natalia Markova, sitting opposite the Commander at the desk, used to observe the Navigational Captain. It was part of her "routine" to unnerve anyone---even her own unit---who entered her office. Julie had spent the 3 minutes switching back-and-forth between her console screen, a data-pad on her desk, and Natalia. Finally done doing what seemed like "important work," Julie gave Natalia her full attention.

"Sorry Captain Markova," Julie said as she put her hands cuffed on her desk before her, "I'm a busy woman. Now," Julie abruptly changed gears, picked up the datapad---scanned it and quietly said a few words to herself from the reading---then put it down and looked at Natalia, "So, you've been assigned to me for training, Captain. On shuttles. Rather, that's what the orders are saying, but not what they mean," Julie turned around and grabbed a sealed package off of the back shelve and put it on the desk, pushing the soft package towards the captain, "What they really mean is computer technical sciences. Or better known as slicing. Something your personnel record makes a small note of. Apparently, the late Commodore had a standing order before his death for this."

Julie sighed and leaned back in her chair, lacing her fingers together as she looked at Natalia, "I'm under orders to pair you with one of my shuttles crews to, ah," she leaned into the desk again and looked at the datapad for the right wording, before leaning back in the chair with her fingers laced through, "Promote a tactical advantage between a small shuttle reconnaissance team and a nontraditional slicer approach. Aka you. As far as I can tell, the Empire wants you as a navigational pilot aboard Star Destroyers. But your more immediate commanders envisioned something more---out of the norm of Imperial protocol. I'm going to pair you with Captain Zeek "Outbound" Sanddoom. He's my best pilot and his shuttle crew is the best," she leaned forward and picked up the data-pad as she leaned back in her seat, reading off several lines of data, "Your orders here for you are straight forward: train with the shuttle crew, install and or modify said computer equipment," Julie nodded towards the package, "To meet your personalized slicing needs. At first opportunity, test new approach through several reconnaissance missions on remote access of enemy computer systems for further follow-up military action by conventional methods."

Julie raised an eyebrow and put the data-pad back on the desk. She leaned back again and stared at Natalia a moment before saying, "Personally, you got blank orders to allow you to develop an experimental approach to slicing enemy software through remote access, aka my shuttles," Julie grunted, "I don't like it when the spook community gets involved with my unit. You better get down to the shuttle bay. Dismissed, captain."


TAG @galactic-vagabond422

 

IC: Surgeon-Commander Debgate, Senior Lieutenant Enoch Steadfast, YT-1760 intruder vessel, Main Hangar, Darkest Night
Location: Hyperspace

The pair had located the mystery vessel, being guarded by a pair of security stormtroopers.

Unlike the more famous YT-1300 freighter, you actually had to go round to the rear of the YT-1760, between the sizable circular ion engines, to find the entry ramp, and walk up under the airlock to enter the craft.

There was a brief flat area to stand in before the inner airlock, which was standing open.

"Watch your head." Steadfast advised as he stepped inside, looking left, right, and up towards the ceiling, whilst the security droid headed in front of them, a fan of hazy blue holo-recording light running over closed head-height lockers to the right of the vestibule.

"Understood."

They walked on, and coming into a circular passenger area, with seating curving around the bulkhead on either side of them. Ahead of them, there was a straight run, with wide openings off to the left and right, to presumably the front of the ship and cockpit, judging from the craft's apparent dimensions when they had been outside standing under the thing.

Debgate glanced back to the open airlock door, just a few meters away. "I don't know if I would have been comfortable, sitting this close to the airlock."

"Well, it's how cottages work." Steadfast pointed out.

"Cottages?"

He glanced back up at her with that baleful-looking orange gaze. "Small single-story dwellings where the main entrance opens straight into the living area." He shrugged. "You get used to it, I suppose." He turned away from her to look around the passenger area, wondering where the customary Dejarik holo-table was. "This wasn't a ship being used for long journeys, which could explain why there is no table. Quick sprint journeys only, I'm thinking. And not a civilian vessel where the crew lived aboard."

He turned again to the medic, lifting his cane to indicate the vestibule area behind her. "Search all the lockers."

The tall blonde femme glanced from his cane to him, a soft breeze coming up the ramp, making barely impression on her starched uniform skirt, but still noticeably shifting it about her knees. "What am I looking for?"

"Anything that gives us identities for the crew, where they came from, anywhere this ship has been during it's operational life, anything clue-ing us into what in the Emperor's Name they were doing aboard the Darkest Night."

"Copy." She stepped back there, checking the wall opposite the head-height lockers, where seven full length lockers were, with two being painted quite a pretty orange, whilst the rest were the same colour as the rest of the space, white with years of usage.
Debgate wondered about the differentiation. Perhaps it was crew versus passengers?

Steadfast stepped over to the nearest bit of seating, and leaned over a bit to see if the stained white cushion was removeable, with cargo space underneath. "Commander?"

"Call me 'Deb'."

"Deb. You can call me..." Steadfast hesitated, then reminded himself that the Surgeon-Commander was as near as dammit, the same rank as himself, if not the same. There would be no impropriety with going with such familiarity. "'Enoch', then, you can call me Enoch, at least, when we are alone or amongst Command or Senior Staff Officers. Anyone below that, we stick to our ranks."

Debgate remembered Captain Risk aboard the Ambivalence, having guidelines on what levels of crew she should be familiar with, so was happy to accomodate whatever made the veteran TIE pilot comfortable. "Understood." She acknowledged with a smile.

He exhaled with relief. "Alright, keep an eye out for the log book, although I would expect that to be in either the cockpit, or the Captain's quarters."

"Sure thing, Enoch." She ran her fingers over the metal surface of the first orange locker, testing out the more obvious ways to get the thing open.


Tag: no-one

 

IC: Natalia Markova
Forward Hanger, Darkest Night

Natalia sat quietly looking at her feet, and looking up only once in a while. She could hear a song in her head, her hand wanting to tap out the beat. Fighting against the thought spiral the minutes felt like hours as she was waiting for the commander to speak. Commander Viper would acknowledge her existence every once in a while, never speaking. Was this another test? Seeing how long she could stand sitting in silence? Silence rarely bothered her though usually she had something to occupy her mind in the quiet. It would be rude for her to look to her datapad, even if she could check on their progress to the next jump point. Her hands grip somewhat tightly to said computing device in her lap as she sat with her back straight.

"Sorry Captain Markova," Viper finally spoke breaking the quiet. Natalia looked up nodding her head. "I'm a busy woman. Now," Natalia was about to mutter something of a reply, but chose to hold her words. "So, you've been assigned to me for training, Captain. On shuttles. Rather, that's what the orders are saying, but not what they mean," The young navigator furrowed her brow more smoke and mirrors. What was happening to straight forward orders with no surprises, or omissions. "What they really mean is computer technical sciences. Or better known as slicing. Something your personnel record makes a small note of. Apparently, the late Commodore had a standing order before his death for this." The furrows deepened, if those were his standing orders then why did Captain Trotter try to get her to work on engine efficiencies? Did he not believe she could handle slicing? Did he not look at her records? Part of her mind was beginning to question the Captain's ability to command. Thankfully he wouldn't be in command for much longer.

"I'm under orders to pair you with one of my shuttles crews to, ah," There was a pause as she looked for the right wording of the order. "Promote a tactical advantage between a small shuttle reconnaissance team and a nontraditional slicer approach. Aka you. As far as I can tell, the Empire wants you as a navigational pilot aboard Star Destroyers. But your more immediate commanders envisioned something more---out of the norm of Imperial protocol. I'm going to pair you with Captain Zeek "Outbound" Sanddoom. He's my best pilot and his shuttle crew is the best," The young navigator was unsure if this was a vote of confidence in her abilities, or a condemnation of them. Being put with the best team either mean she trusted her not to screw everything up, or that she would, but her best could make up for Natalia's stupidity.

"Your orders here for you are straight forward:" Viper continued looking over her datapad, "
train with the shuttle crew, install and or modify said computer equipment," She gestured to the package sh'd put on the desk at the start, Natalia had thought nothing of it until now. She'd worked on computer systems before, had knowledge of hardware and wiring. The datapad she held was mostly put together by her own hand. Military hardware might be different, more sturdy than commercial variants, but the principals should still be the same. These were orders she could follow, could complete without question without fear of failing. "To meet your personalized slicing needs. At first opportunity, test new approach through several reconnaissance missions on remote access of enemy computer systems for further follow-up military action by conventional methods." Her brow rose, most vessels didn't have many external signals to piggyback or exploit for this very reason. Many locked down their external signals giving absolutely nothing for a slicer like her to use. Their best bet would be to attach directly and find a port on the ship itself and hope that it was networked with the others.

Again this was beginning to feel like another task setup to fail...and she would be the one taking the blame, or looking like a failed experiment. She didn't say anything not that this commander seemed all that interested in the ins and outs of computer science.

"Personally, you got blank orders to allow you to develop an experimental approach to slicing enemy software through remote access, aka my shuttles," Julie grunted, Natalia looked away, experiment or setup for failure. Another reckless decision by a commander that believed too much in his people and not enough in protocol. "I don't like it when the spook community gets involved with my unit. You better get down to the shuttle bay. Dismissed, captain."

The tone was unmistakable, there would be no conversation, no questioning of orders. Though it didn't seem like these orders were her idea and the person that gave them was dead. There was nothing to do but, do her best in a no-win situation.

"Yes mam'," She said rising to her feet and snapping off a salute. Turning on her heel she marched back out into the shuttle bay. She was never given a description of this Captain Sanddoom, or number for his shutte so she was just left there standing with a datapad and package of computer parts in her arms looking like a lost tooka. "Excuse me," she asked a passing form in an imperial uniform. "I'm looking for Captain Sanddoom?"

TAG: @Bravo

 

IC: Jingleheimmer Voss (Jingle)
Location: Dark Nebulae squadron pilot lounge

Reen settled back in the luxurious black synthleather armchair, teeth gritted in anticipation of pain from her injuries. "I've missed these." She announced to the room, looking across to the master chef as he pulled his hat off his artificial foot.

"Looks a little scuffed. Maybe a little more than scuffed." He chuckled softly at the rag in his hand.

"So, Alex, you said something about toasting Commodore Englewood?"

Qipao19 had manouevered her hoverchair out of the way, and landed heavily on the seat to her right.

"Baille, can you break out the D-K, and some clean glasses, please?

"Sure thing." She stepped over to a wood-fronted cabinet, and pulled the front panel open and down, revealing several bottles, and stacked shot glasses. She selected four from the top, and brought them and the bottle over to the low coffee table that all the occupied chairs were around. She set the bottle down, and started to separate the glasses.

"Now this," Jingle began with a sigh as he relaxed into a chair. "Is the start of a proper wake." He knew in about a half hour or three his cook droid would show up with a trolly of food and good alcohol.

Tag: @Sith-I-5

 

IC: Baille Harte, Alex Qipao19, Reen G'Spaugh, "Dark Nebula" pilot lounge
Location: Hyperspace


Harte leaned over the low table, uncorking the bottle with a pop, and poured the fruity-smelling clear liquid into each of the glasses, pushing them across the table in front of each member of the team.

Her pushing the topped-off glass in front of the Master Chef, seemed to act as the catalyst for him to relax properly into the soft chair. "Now this," he sighed, "Is the start of a proper wake."

"Indeed it is." Baille smiled at him as she swept one palm down the back of her skirt so that it didn't crumple when she settled back into her own seat, glancing across at the empty seat amongst them. "Although we are missing someone from our group down on Lepsawn 1-9."

"We ought to call her." Alex commented.

"I didn't see her at the wake," Reen pointed out, "but my viewing angle wasn't the best. Any of you spot her?"

Baille shook her head. "Not unless she legged it out of the hangar, the second Captain Totter dismissed us."

The Communications Chief continued. "So my point is, no objection to calling Markova, but we, the ones that were there to see Englewood off, should get a drink in to the man that brought the four-"

"Five." Alex interjected.

"Fine, five. We drink to the gentlebeing who brought the five members of our Away Team, together." She lifted her glass. "To Englewood."

"To Englewood."

Baille lifted her glass, the light from the overhead lumi panels glinting along the curved bronzium metal rim. "To Commodore Englewood."

Tag: @Mitth_Fisto

 

IC: Jingleheimmer Voss (Jingle)
Location: Dark Nebulae squadron pilot lounge

"To Commodore Englewood!" he added to chorus. Drank the fruity concoction in one good sip before pulling out his pad and checked that his droid was on the way. There should be ding or something soon as it arrived with food and more drinks for the occasion.

Raising his glass again he nodded, "Now there is still juice in my cup, so to Commodore Englewood, the man that gave me my shot. When I lost my fighting post he made sure I had the chance to come back on another track, he didn't have to do that. Most Commodores wouldn't. Likely many others owe that odd man for their chances. So one more before we call her. To Englewood!"

TAG: @Sith-I-5

 

IC: Sergeant First Class Adrias Stark
Ocean, ten miles from Javin Oversector Command & Administrative Complex

Adrias saluted and moved towards an emergency hatch that had blown out. He wanted to avoid the crowds spilling out of the hole in the hull. The corridor was bathed in a red light. The emergency lighting had kicked in. The insides were in a disarray. Luggage, pieces of clothing and personal effects were strewn around. Cables hanging from the ceiling sending sparks everywhere. Small fires had started from it and the corridor started filling with smoke. A group of service droids tried to put them out.

The group of stormtroopers made way through it. They had a task to do, so there shouldn’t be any distractions. Adrias kicked a piece of luggage lying on the floor. He winced as he remembered that they might have been booby-trapped. Not very professional of him. If only there was a demolitions expert with him. But there was no time to bring any kind of specialist with them. They were scrambled on a short notice. Hopefully there won’t be any traps.

They reached one of the lobbies. Passengers and crew were scurrying around. Some were wounded, others just shaken. Funny thing was that all the social classes were mixed together. Nothing like a crisis to bring people together. A visibly lower class man was helping what appeared to be some sort of an aristocratic woman. Adrias reminded himself to be careful as there might be terrorists disguised as guests or crew.

He signalled his men to disperse and start scanning the IDs. Adrias could hear the angry responses by some of the guests. He guessed that these were from the First Class and VIP Lists. Some tried to pull “rank” on the Stormtroopers, but to no effect. Unless that person was a Moff or a Senior Imperial Official, both Military and Civilian, they could not do anything to the troopers. He heard several times he and his men being called “bucketheads”, but Adrias decided to let it slide. Dealing with slurs were not part of the mission, at least for now. Usually calling Stormies names provides you with a ticket right to prison and then being flagged as potential troublemaker. He hoped that his men took pictures with their helmets.

There was a sudden commotion. One of the Stormtroopers grabbed a man and pushed him on his knees while another trooper pointed an E-11 on him. People were shouting, some in panic, others in anger. It seems they were lucky. Adrias frowned under the bucket and moved towards the soldier.

“What seems to be the problem here?” he asked.

“Tell your lapdogs to let me go! Do you have any idea who I am!?” the man on the floor snarled.

Adrias rolled his eyes under the helmet. Here we go again.

“I am Marquis de Carabas of Chandrilla!” the man puffed his chest.

“This person refuses to show his ID, sir.” one of the troopers stepped in.

Adrias ignored the Marquis’ protests and insults. His idiocy just made him a suspect.

“Bring him out for processing.” he ordered. “Then rejoin our team.”

The man shouted incredulously but Adrias kept ignoring him. It would be better to apologise than letting go of a potential terrorist. The trooper saluted and pulled the protesting “Marquis” up.

At least that debacle was over. The “suspect” most likely will be cleared. People like that did not like being told what to do and always try to pull rank whenever possible. Well, that will be the Captain’s problem. The good thing was that the other passengers would be more cooperative.

Adrias motioned for the other stormtroopers to move on after they finished checking up the rest of the IDs. They reached a staircase leading to a lobby. The lower level was full of water. It was waist deep, but knowing that it can go further down it meant that the other levels were fully submerged. Detritus was floating along with pieces of souvenirs and clothes from the shops on that level. Adrias heard some voices, there were people down. A Rodian and a human carrying some items from a jewellery shop. Looters… ‘Why do some people resort to looting in times of crisis!?’ thought Adrias.

“Hands where we can see them!” he barked at the two guys.

They looked as if going to run, but decided against it given that they were in waist deep water and won’t be able to get very far. Usually looters get shot on spot, but it was not that type of crisis. Adrias signalled to one of his men to go down and relieve them of their possessions then to bring them to the soldiers outside for detention.

Adrias and the remaining two Stormtroopers were pointing their E-11s at the prisoners while they were climbing the stairs. As soon as they reached their level Adrias clasped cuffs on the Rodian and TK-1259 on the human. “Get them out and then, along with TK-2512 make way to the engines.”

The man saluted and marshalled the looters. Adrias signalled the remaining men to move on. It was hard to make way through the corridor as the floor was a bit slanted from the crash. Also the detritus and luggage did not help. They enlisted the help of a Bothan crewmember. Adrias wondered how a representative of that species ended up on-board the ship as a worker. Given how “class-sensitive” the Bothans are, that guy must have been down on his luck.

After moving through the maze of corridors and different levels they managed to reach the engineering section. The Bothan was not very talkative, which was natural given that many of his species disliked other races and the Empire. Besides Adrias was not there to chit-chat, he had a job to do and needed to be on high alert. This area of the ship was mostly deserted aside of service droids and some crew members trying to fight some fires.

They entered the engine room. The radiation reading was normal, which was fine. Alarms were blaring, which mixed with the engine sounds creating a cacophony, and emergency lights flashed. It was suspiciously empty, aside of the droids. His men spread out in a search pattern.

“Sir, we got something!” exclaimed one of the troopers.

Adrias frowned and moved to investigate. There was a scrawny figure of a Twi’Lek girl huddled behind a crate. It was red-skinned, from what he remembered about that race, it meant that she was valuable. That made her a potential saboteur. She seemed to be in her teens.

The Sergeant turned towards the Bothan to ask him if he knew anything but saw that the crew member stepped outside and the large door slammed shut and locked. ‘What the…!?’ he thought. It seems that the terrorists had infiltrated the crew. Which in hindsight seemed logical.

“Guard her!” he ordered the trooper and turned to the other one “Look for an alternative exit.”

Both of them acknowledged. Adrias moved to the thick bulkhead. It seemed to be sealed shut.

“Captain Stein, do you read me? This is Sergeant Stark, we are in the engine room. We found a Twi’Lek teen girl, but we were tricked by a crew member, a Bothan. He locked us in. He is probably on the loose and trying to escape. Do you copy?”

Adrias hoped that the signal went through or they were going to have a very long stay in the engine room. Hopefully the other two Troopers would find them soon enough.

TAG: @Bravo

 

IC: Elena Shan
Tactical Training Environment Room, Trooper Barracks, Darkest Night

Elena was pleased. They had handled the objective well, and she got to see just how Joker Platoon could fight. How they could win. She looked at Animal and nodded firmly, before turning to address everyone that had gathered around. "The Rebels will not let up until we destroy all of them, especially the ones that use barbaric tactics like this. You did well today, and well I will say that it was not the way I expected-" She gave a sharp look to Animal, :"-you surpassed by expectations. Hit the showers and be ready for our next mission, I'll need to all to perform to you're very best. Dismissed!"

She turned to Animal. "A word?" Elena asked calmly. She would wait until the others had filed out of course, but she still needed to talk to him about disobeying her orders.

Tag: @Bravo

 

IC: Captain Zeek "Outbound" Sanddoom
Forward Hanger, Darkest Night; hyperspace


"Excuse me," she asked a passing form in an imperial uniform. "I'm looking for Captain Sanddoom?"

"Here!" barked out Zeek in a joyful voice as he bounced down the landing ramp of his Lambda-class T-4a Shuttle as he heard his name, his hands covered in all manners of engine & parts fluids. He grabbed a shop rag from a nearby cart and tried to clean his hands best he could as he walked towards the woman who called out his name. He extended a hand, "Zeek Sanddoom," the man said, "Although sometimes people add in captain before the name. Sometimes I wonder why," he chuckled at his own joke, no matter if anyone else felt it was funny or not, "And I'm assuming you are Captain Markova?"


TAG @galactic-vagabond422

 

IC: DW-418121 ("Animal"; Craig Anthony Stewart), Second Squad (Joker Platoon), etc.
Tactical Training Environment Room, Trooper Barracks, Darkest Night


She turned to Animal. "A word?" Elena asked calmly. She would wait until the others had filed out of course, but she still needed to talk to him about disobeying her orders.

Animal waited for the last one to file out---Business---who shot him a look of lets talk about this later and as the door closed, Craig turned to the officer, "Lieutenant?"

He knew what it was going to be about. Minus well toe the protocol line before he lost some of his rear quarters.


TAG @TheSilentInfluence

 

IC: Captain Duke P. (Patrick) Totter
Ready Room, Darkest Night


Totter finished reviewing the security footage in the auxiliary hanger and closed down the application, before turning to the desk comm and ensuring it went over the intercomm, "Lieutenant Levric, please report to the bridge. Lieutenant Levric to the bridge."

After closing the comm down, he hit another button for the bridge, "Please ensure Lieutenant Levric gets to the ready room."

He heard a yes sir from the other end of the comm.


TAG @Laine_Snowtrekker

 

IC: Elena Shan
Tactical Training Environment Room, Trooper Barracks, Darkest Night

"It's hard enough to be a woman in the Empire, let alone an Officer. I always have to perform my best; especially in combat. I hope you understand that disobeying my orders can have a negative effect on us both Master Sargeant." Elena told Animal with a small frown. "I need you to work with me, if you have ideas on how to improve combat as it's going on ask me. I know I have to earn respect here, but it's hard enough without you running off ahead."

She sighed and shook her head, sitting down on the ground. I just need to get my job done. It's too bad I'm the only woman here, I feel like such an outsider.

Tag: @Bravo

 

IC: Natalia Markova
Forward Hanger, Darkest Night

"Here!" A clean shaven man called out. He walked over to her and she looked up due to the differences in height between them. "Zeek Sanddoom," He extended his hand for a shake, looking down she could see dark stains from grease and other mechanical fluids. She'd noted the rag in his hand darkened by the same substances, he'd made an effort to clean up. She wasn't a germaphobe or a neat freak by any stretch but she did try to keep herself and attire to the highest standard. Though as she was learning sometimes protocol needed to be bent to get the job done. With some hesitation she took his hand lightly giving a slight shake. "Although sometimes people add in captain before the name. Sometimes I wonder why," he chuckled a little at the turn of phrase, Natalia didn't share his humor. He was a captain why would someone not call him by his rank. "And I'm assuming you are Captain Markova?"

"Yes," she replied keeping both hands around the package and her datapad after the handshake. "I am to reconfigure the computer systems on your shuttle to better suit my needs and those of the experimental operations we will be testing in the future." She held up the package in her arms. "I have the parts necessary I just require the time to install and test." her voice again was soft, and quiet just over a whisper. In the loud hangar it was only the short distance between them that allowed for her words to be heard. "Could I begin now?" She asked still looking up.

TAG: @Bravo

 

IC: Baille Harte, Alex Qipao19, Reen G'Spaugh, "Dark Nebula" pilot lounge
Location: Hyperspace

"To Commodore Englewood!" Jingle completed the toast, and all four of them drank down the D-K.

Baille winced and coughed a little, cupping a hand over her mouth. "Pretty tasty for alcohol." She opined.

The chef pulled out his datapad again, checking something. Probably reports from his messes, she guessed.

He raised the glass again and nodded. "Now there is still juice in my cup-"

"Juice?" Baille frowned down at the clear liquid in his glass, thinking that that was an odd term to describe the clear liquid, even if, granted, it smelled like the dipao fruit.

"-so to Commodore Englewood, the man that gave me my shot. When I lost my fighting post he made sure I had the chance to come back on another track, he didn't have to do that. Most Commodores wouldn't. Likely many others owe that odd man for their chances."

Harte looked across the coffee table and spotted Alex gazing at her, knowing that he was thinking of her trouble with Steadfast. She hadn't felt as bothered about it, as Alex had, what with Lord Vader making the squadron casting calls, so she didn't feel that she had anything to offer here.

"So one more before we call her." Jingle continued.

"Alright, hang on a moment, Chief." Qipao19 suggested. "You're the only one who didn't neck their drink."

"I'll be Mother again, shall I?" Baille asked when no-one reached for the bottle. She leaned forward out of her snug armchair, unstoppered it and topped up everyone who held their shot glasses towards her.

Everyone gave her time to re-cork the bottle and set it down.

"To Englewood!" Their Zelosian team-mate led, with everyone echoing the sentiment.

"To Englewood!" Baille threw the strong liquid back into her throat, swallowing with a gulp, and feeling a sudden urge to turn the glass upside-down and slamming it onto the table.

Reen blinked rapidly after her second drink, then stopped and gazed across at Jengle. "Unless you have another priority toast in you, Chief; I'll call Markova now."


Tag: @Mitth_Fisto

 

IC: Gwen Levric
Quarters, Darkest Night

The events of the past few days had been alarming, to say the least. And what if she, in pursuit of achieving the Right Thing, had crossed some line? They'd told her that there was no coming back from the work she'd been set out to do, but she'd been determined to persist nonetheless.

The intercom interrupted her thoughts. "Lieutenant Levric, please report to the bridge. Lieutenant Levric to the bridge."

She thumbed her own comm. "Levric here. On my way," she said.

Upon arriving to the bridge room, she was escorted to the ready room, where Captain Totter waited. What was this summons about? Her team was still processing various footage and combing through evidence related to the hellish past few days, but they didn't have any final report as yet.

She stood at attention, waiting for Totter to speak.

TAG: @Bravo

 

IC: DW-418121 ("Animal"; Craig Anthony Stewart), Second Squad (Joker Platoon), etc.
Tactical Training Environment Room, Trooper Barracks, Darkest Night


Elena slummed to the ground before Animal had a chance to respond. He glanced at her from his now elevated position, but quickly adjusted his stare straight forward.

"Is there anything, Lieutenant?" the Master Sergeant asked as dry as possible.

Privately, Animal wished the best for the LT. She was smart, calm under fire, and had a good forward thinking tactical mindset, all key aspects for a good Imperial officer. And it may take time, but Joker Platoon could get use to her. Maybe no one said it---yet---but she did good by Joker's standards.

And that was the standard as far as Animal was concerned for the Stormtrooper Corps.

After a moment of no response from the Lieutenant, Animal cleared his throat, "If the Lieutenant wouldn't object, ma'am, the squad would be delighted to take the officer out for a drink or after. After, a course, we see what's happening up at The Complex and our recall."


"ATTENTION ALL HANDS. ATTENTION ALL HANDS. REVERSION TO REAL SPACE IN ONE HOUR. REVERSION TO REAL SPACE IN ONE HOUR."


TAG @TheSilentInfluence