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

IC: SGIS agent Johmer Evanson, Jyn Erso, Tim Williams, K-2SO, municipal lake
Location: Wobani system, Bryx Sector, co-ords R-8


The three survivors of the revenge mission against the Correctional Facility's administration tower, clung to the Fluffy's forward ramp, as the cold air that the craft was flying through, buffeted them and batted at their clothing.

They had as many fingers as they could manage, hooked into hand-holds cut into the ramp for unknown reasons, up till this moment.

As much as they would have loved to proceed further into the cargo bay, the raging inferno initiated by Tim Williams' earlier strafing, had beaten them back to the .

Johmer looked behind himself as much as he could manage, once he sensed that the vessel had started to nose down, and spied the lake below, glistening like liquid crystal, beyond the edge of the ramp. "Water looks lovely!" He yelled.

For her part, Jyn was already marvelling at the beauty of nature afforded by the green tree canopy below them.

Delivered by prison shuttle, directly into the brown, muddy expanse of the vast prison complex, she had had no clue that any part of Wobani could look as pretty as this did.

The surface of the lake was rushing up to meet them as the ship dove towards it, the ramp knifing into the water, before the flat underside of the main hull acted as a belly splash, and stopped it submerging.

Chilled water washed over and engulfed the three, with the shock forcing silvery bubbles of vital oxygen to erupt from her mouth as she released her handholds. Then she felt the hard metal dig across her stomach as she was lifted off the ramp and cradled one handed by the big Imperial security droid.

She flung her arms around its neck and settled her face against its hard grey skull, whilst the thing leaned over with its free hand to pluck the immediately coughing and limp Williams out of the deluge that was chest high to both droid and girl.

K-2SO turned and stomped up into the cargo bay, where the water was just waist high to it; and where the two Rebels were slogging their way to the stairs at the back. Twin spouts of water drained out of the coughing engineer's trouser legs.

"The sergeant said that I had to look out for bubbles, and save those who made them." The droid explained as it walked between the charred but now thankfully extinguished crates on either side.

Barely visible in the thinning smoke, the non-com in question, called back, "The sergeant? I do have a name, you know."

"Yes sergeant, I know."

Behind them, out on the lake, the hexagonal solar fin, sans the rest of the TIE, skipped across the lake surface, then sank slowly out of sight, whilst the TIE fighter that it had belonged to, tumbled smoking through the air, till it smacked into the far shoreline, and exploded, sending debris and flames every which way.

Johmer popped his head out of the water, twin-capsuled rebreather clenched between his teeth. He looked disoriented, as he was initially facing out into the open lake, before turning enough to his right to see the ship and started to half-wade, half-swim, into the bay.


To be continued...

 

IC: Ensign Keia Tamara, Processing Station (Landing Pad 224-C), Outside Downtown, Javin


Keia finally found the right place and took a breath.

She touched her chest and felt the Scarifii turtle amulet her mother had carved for her, squeezing its small wooden shape beneath her black uniform. Here we go, Mom.

She stepped up to the senior Major and started to answer the question she had heard him give the recruit just before her.

“Ensign, Sir. Tamara, Keia - systems engineering. I have orders to report for duty on board the Dar...”

She gasped and stepped back as an explosion suddenly lit up the evening. She also noticed the grizzled Major’s less than immediately active response.

“Is that... ummm... normal, Sir?”

TAG @Sith-I-5 @Bravo

 

IC: The DMV, Alex Qipao19, Baille Harte, Vance the Waiter, The Drooping Stalk
Location: Downtown, Javin


A heavy-duty grey block of metal, the HAVr Flying Fortress of the Downtown Medical Volunteers, raced over the rooftops of Downtown, for the reported chaos at the The Drooping Stalk restaurant, a team of medics within, ready to deploy as soon as the craft arrived on station.

****

The Drooping Stalk

Alex worried about the girl he had picked up in the bar that Rick had taken them to, when he heard Voss ask for the medikit; he looked over to see his TALC - or whatever they were calling it - team-mate Army-crawling closer to the wounded Nat', his cybernetic leg seeming like so much dead weight right now.

He certainly seemed to know his way around the thing, he thought, as the chef popped open the medikit's tray and pushed it close to the hole in Markova's tunic.

Natalia took ownership of one of Alex' hands, squeezing it rathtar-tight, and he felt the back of her head move against his t-shirt as she nodded her assent for her tunic to be opened.

Opening her top one-handed, was going to be more complicated, and he had to make his right hand like a Kashyyyk web-weaver to give it the double duty of pressing down one part of her uniform whilst his thumb and forefinger pushed the flap away from it enough to separate them, but he then realised, a bit belatedly he realised, he could just pull at the flap, and rely on her body weight to do the rest.

He reached over her and gently pulled her bloody undershirt up to expose the charred flesh itself.

"Nat', you are doing fantastic." He encouraged, mightily impressed at her silence.

Jingle' got the tray's probe close to the wound. "Give it a second to analyze. Thing is automated to the hilt, I'll hold the kit and you inject whatever the screen says it recommends. If you don't know say it and I'll tell you which item to grab." He tried curling around the table support, to get a better approach angle.

"As long as it has the same sort of things as in our standard kits, I'll know what they are." Harte volunteered, shuffling closer in the narrow space between Voss, who was now blocking her egress from under the table, and the base of the seating that she had only occupied for scant seconds before this all went down. She reached into the tray and plucked out a small metallic aerosol that fitted into her small fist and splaying her other hand away from the others, proceeded to spray Thinskin over it.

The needle on the probe pierced Natalia's skin, and he could see projected light from the main readout flickering across Voss' face as he waited for an answer.

He felt her grip weakening, and could feel that her hand was losing its heat. "Hold on, Nat'. You are doing great."

"Look, she's losing a lot of blood; we should patch her up and arrange a medivac back to the Darkest Night."

Qipao19 could see shiny lines of moisture rolling down Natalia's face, and squeezed her hand. "Come on, Chief. That thing has to have an answer by now. Shouldn't we just spray the wound with an antiseptic, then put a bacta patch over it?"

THRUMMMMMMmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

The building shuddered momentarily with the sound of heavy repulsors passing overhead and stopping somewhere at the front of the restaurant.

"That'll be the D.M.V." Vance announced, grimacing as he forced himself into a standing position.

Alex had forgotten that he was there.

"Downtown Medical Volunteers." The waiter clarified, continuing, "I'll go meet them, make sure they bring a medical coccoon back here." He leaned down and tapped Levric on the shoulder. "Hey, you've seen what it's like in the rest of the place, you want to help with the triaging?"


Tag: @galactic-vagabond422 @Mitth_Fisto @Bravo

 

IC: Jim Palso (Part 2 of 2)
Maryo


Jim ran up the starboard ramp, banked right as was customary for any YT-series, and ran down the polished corridors & walls that looked as new as if it was first bought off the Corellian Engineering Corporation's lot that morning until he reached the cockpit interior, watching through the circularly divided forward transparisteel viewport the insides of the hanger give way to the night sky above. The protocol droid---whom he had nicknamed Walking Library in a moment of spirited conversation earlier---was in the co-pilot seat, looking like a expert as he masterfully directed the craft. The R3 unit, whom he had yet to officially name, was plugged into the scomp link provided near the systems station behind the co-pilot seat (the weapons station was behind the pilot's seat).

Jim jumped into the pilot's seat.

"Making yourself at home, I see?" Walking Library said, any trace of doubting his abilities erased from the droid's memory banks as his robotic hands raced across the controls as the YT-1930 Transport cleared the hanger bay doors' top edges and was fully out of the docking bay.

Palso ignored the comment and instead, after strapping himself in, started flipping switches above his head and then put his hands on the flight controls next, saying as he felt control of the ship fully transfer to the pilot station, "Let's see what this Hunk of Junk can do!"

"Junk!" Library exclaimed from the co-pilot's seat, his voice briefly drifting back to the paranoid professor sound from earlier, "Hardly good sir! This is a---"

Jim cut the droid off as he checked sensors and status displays and engaged the thrusters, rocketing the ship away from the hanger and mountain mansion, "---a Gray Tiger YT-1930 Transport, one of only ten made by the Corellian Engineering Corporation. A limited edition model starting at two hundred-and-sixty-two thousand galactic credits, showcasing upgraded engines to boost performance to 87 MGLT from a standard of 80 MGLT, a duramentium & condensed-matter composite structural frame wrapped in a titanium-reinforced alusteel hull, a GA21 Shield Generator---" Jim looked at the droid briefly as he piloted the transport out of the last remnants of the mountains, "---do I need to continue?"

"No," Walking Library said with a bit of embarrassment in his voice; if a droid's emotionless face could show emotion, it most certainty would have and it seemed---to Jim---for a moment that there was emotional behind that robotic face; the droid finally relented after a moment of silence, "Impressive for an organic."

"Every space junky worth their salt knows about the Gray Tiger line. Some say they were a marketing tool by CEC to get more people to buy the limited ran YT-1930 and the line was nothing but a myth."

The R3 unit beeped a series of comments.

"Yes, my thoughts too, R3," Walking Library said.

"Whose thoughts?" Jim asked.

"R3 mapped our current course. You're not head for space and, in fact, headed directly within sensor range of that Star Destroter."

"Yeah," Palso said, adding, "You can tell your pal there to bugger off."

"He is good at that," Library said matter-of-factly.

"At what?" Jim sought to clarify.

"Being a nosy bug."

"Good!" Jim replied, "Bugger, disconnect from the systems station and get to weapons!"

The droid replied with a series of beeps and whistles.

"Watch your language!" Library said, adding, "He's our new owner now!"

"What did he say?" Jim asked as he brought the transport into more rugged terrain once again and slowed down, adding, "WL, configure the sensors to look for a Citadel-class Civilian Cruiser."

"Who's WL?" Library asked.

"You!" Jim replied in a exacerbated tone, his eyes straining to find any sign of wreckage in the low hanging nightly clouds; Jim turned on the two forward floodlights to better see through the ground hugging clouds.

"Oh," the droid replied, waiting a moment to reply as if he was still trying to process this new information, then finally said, "Sensors are configured. There is a ship matching the Citadel-class three miles south-east of our current position."

Jim adjusted course and then added, "What did the astromewch say?"

"Who say what, sir?" Library said.

Jim rolled his eyes, "What did Bugger say earlier?"

"Oh---Bugger---yes, he said to go off yourself, sir."

"Really?" Jim said, smiling a predatory grin as he withdrew his WESTAR-34 from his cross-draw holster on the side of his torso and through the crash netting over his chest and pointed it at the droid.

The droid flipped out a single fusion arc from his fusion welder in reply, a hand gesture Palso didn't need explaining of. The mercenary armed the blaster pistol next, the blaster emitting a small wine when activated.

The atsormech relented with a sorrowful and the fusion welder went away; the droid disconnected from the system station and rolled across to the weapons station, becoming the master-and-commander for all the weaponry & turrets aboard the YT-1930.

Palso put the blaster away and moved his body around under the crash webbing to get comfortable again and glanced over at the protocol-looking droid, "I know where Bugger gets his attitude. It's a astromech lacking memory wipes. But you? I've never seen a droid like you before."

"No one has, sir," Walking Library said, pointing out the cockpit's forward windows and towards the soft glow and smoke in the distant, "Your downed ship, sir."

"Where do you come from?" Jim asked, preparing the comlink.

"I wish I knew, Master Palso," the droid replied.


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


Monastery Moon (Aces' Club)
29 hours later


The man pushed the briefcase under the table with his foot and over to Taller after he had received a datacard with the Fragments of the Lost Kingdom from Taller.

"I was expecting someone else," Rick said, measuring the single man up and down.

Billy smiled under the hat as he lifted his face to show his eyes, "The good Lord Tarfa was busy trying to not have his head cut off. So he sent me."

"Crossed someone he shouldn't have?" Taller asked, filing away the Lord Tarfa name for a later date.

"His boss," Billy said; the man could tell the words' heavy emphasis on boss caught Taller's attention that this was a bigger operation then a handful of feel-good billionaires wanting to fund crazy operations in the darkness. Billy pushed over a simple white envelope across the table, "A thank you gift from the good lord on saving his life and a request," the man paused, then lowered his head slightly so his eyes couldn't be seen anymore, "Don't ask too many questions, Captain Taller. People tend to disappear when it gets back to the good lord's ears."

"And if I refuse the request?" Taller asked, putting a hand on the white envelope, but not taking it yet.

"You won't," Billy replied confidently, then added more bluntly, "Good day, Captain Taller."

Rick didn't need to be told again that the meeting was over. He grabbed the briefcase and got up, turning to see both Havah Jeth and Winterkill standing behind him, their more regular attire back on, as was Taller's more comfortable clothing. "We're finished here," Rick said and in smooth fashion, Winterkill took a point escort position while Jeth took up a starboard rear escort. The trio pushed their way out of Aces' Club and into the greater craziness of the mini-town known as the Monastery Moon.

"What's the plan?" Havah asked as Winterkill guided them back to the Hunk of Junk a good distance and several levels away.

"Hook back up with the Johnny Boy," Taller said, adding, "Force knows Vacks and Streets are starting to wager bets if we return by now with the comm silence. But," Rick said, "Not yet."

"We'll being watched," Havah finished Taller's thoughts (or more correctly highlighted what he already knew long ago and wondered quietly if Taller knew), "How long before they find out part of the copy is missing?"

"They probably already knew," Taller replied, "I'd bet they had eyes in on our Maryo mission. The question becomes, how long do they allow us to play their game and to what end for them? But, also, what is our end?"


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


Taller and company pushed through the two sentry ECT B1 Battle Droids that stood at the open entryway into the rented docking bay space, where the Hunk of Junk sat center with a scatter of crates, parts, and other equipment & various odds-and-ends scattered about. Two more ECT B1 droids patrolled around the docking bay, while one of the shuttle techs was standing outside between docking bay entrance and starship with a CDEF carbine in hand with Palso, the other shuttle tech, shuttle pilot, and the new weird looking protocol droid & common place astromech droid hauling in the scattered pierces as quickly as they could and nearly done.

"Palso?" Taller asked in a rush as him and company pushed towards the boarding ramp with the sun beating down from up above on the gray hulled and yellow stripped starship and the people & droids around it.

Jim bounced down the boarding ramp as if on cue, his face, forearms, and part of his green shirt stained in various starship fluids with a shop rag in hand as he wiped his hands best he could, "We're in a little rush, lets get onboard!" Jim looked down the ramp and told the shuttle tech from the Tempest, "Get the battle droids!" As the tech collected the droids and raced for the ramp, Jim was already running for the cockpit.


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


Hyperspace, 20 minutes later


Palso walked confidently into the crew lounge of the YT-series transport; everyone was scattered about the lounge and repair bay, a small flight of 2 steps separating the raised area over the lower area, but both areas visible to the other. The shuttle pilot was sited at the computer access station looking at various star maps. One of the shuttle techs was at the communications panel, trying to reach the Johnny Boy, while the other tech was tinkering with something in the repair bay a few steps below. Winterkill, Havah, and Taller were scattered about the confines of the crew lounge & repair bay in various stages of conversation or just being silent. Walking Library was in the cockpit, while Bugger rolled past the entrance way to the crew lounge along the main corrdior behind Palso and onward to some other errand within the newly acquired starship.

"We're taking the long way," Palso announced, adding, "T avoid being followed or tagged, we're taking a few side jumps through some backwater systems and gas nebula. Probably at least six hours or so."

"Six hours is optimistic," the shuttle pilot said from the computer access station as he turned back around to the computer screen and looked again over star map, referencing their location and course, "Sector Z-D5A1 is full of navigational hazards."

"That's the point," Jim replied, he poked a thumb to his chest, "Don't worry Zelk, I got this."

Zelk waved a dismissive hand at the two Mercs' mini rivalry, "Whatever flyboy."


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


An hour or so later...


Everyone had gone their own way by now. Some to sleep in secluded corners on the starship or some in free chairs, while still others found mindless things to pass the time.

For Taller, he had the real Fragments of the Lost Kingdom over the holograhic game board table as he studied it. A datapad was besides him as he tried referencing what he saw to anything that came up in a database search. Without the whole rumored book that went with the pages, finding what these pages really meant would be nearly impossible.

Rick grunted in frustration s he dropped down to the bench below and brought up the saved holographic imagine of the real fragments he had laying about on the table. The mercenary captain rubbed his eyes in tired frustration.

"Impossible," he said to himself.


TAG @greyjedi125 & @Mitth_Fisto (for anything or for nothing; consider this a time to character develop & relax as well if we're drawing mental blanks on our characters)

 

IC: Patrol Trooper "Alan" (nrc), Processing Station (Landing Pad 224-C)
Location: Outside Downtown, Javin


From the viewpoint of anyone inside the processing station, who happened to be facing the right direction out of the windows, a small black dot on the horizon, was throwing out a plume of ten-coloured sand and dirt behind it.

The black spot grew bigger, eventually resolving into a blocky C-PH patrol speeder bike that that only slowed down when it was halfway up the thirty metre ferrocrete pathway leading to the ceraglase swing door.

The rider dismounted off the side of the still moving bike, and ran up to the door, pulling it open to allow himself inside, and not suspiciously at all, slowed to a sedate walk as he gazed across the mostly empty hall, now that the queues of arriving soldiers had been cleaned out, and spotted the seated and standing people in Imperial uniform.

He looked like a cross between a stormtrooper and a scout trooper. His visored helmet was reminiscent of a stormtroopers, except there was more black in the external surface at the sides, and he had a similar amount of armour as a scout.

"Oh, this kind of processing station!" He took a closer look at the people present. "Gentlebeings." His focus settled on one of them, causing him to drawl, "By your command."

Before anyone could respond, the trooper did a double-take as he spotted the line of metal lockers against the wall several metres to his right, their left, and started trotting over there.

There was a tap on the front door, from the bike running into it, and beyond it, in the distance, another black dot was throwing up its own plume.

Tag: @Kurisan @Bravo

 

IC: Trooper DW-418125 (Benjamin Jacob Waynes; "Face")
A Shady Motel, Downtown, Javin


Face nodded, remembering now in the rat race that had been the last 4 days since Lepsawn 1-9, that Stark had not been with them and had only joined the squad at Javin here.

"Before we got to port at Javin," Face replied, "The Darkest Night was the flagship of the 115th Naval Battle Group. The Battle of Lepsawn 1-9 was a short deal of sorts, but highlighted the various loosely connected Rebel cells willing to sell their souls to the Circle Crime Family and other criminal organizations that pretty much ruled Lepsawn 1-9 in the shadows from Lepsawn's Neglected Cities. The Empire is a successful political ally of the Lepsawn Central Administration Planetary Government, since six BBY, mostly supporting the government with professional military training, quality education for it's civilians, and funding to turn the planet into a stable Imperial ally. By all accounts it was and is successful. After 7 days of heavy fighting through an attempted coup from the crime lords supported by Rebel cells, Queen Natasha the Bold called on the Empire for support militarily. The 115th arrived and took care of business in under twenty-four hours; while the DN was reassigned to Javin, the rest of the 115th remained and since, the Imperial Army has supported the Lepsawn National Defense Force in restoring order to the world. A course, the crime lords and rebels think its more like an occupation," Face looked at Stark, "I guess our trooper friend here is a bit bent that they lost to us. My only question is where they got the armor and who supplied them with intel on us?"

Suddenly two brilliant flashes of green light filled the night sky, followed by a thunderclap of releasing energy through the atmosphere and distant land explosions somewhere far off.

Business looked through the doorway, "I hate to break up the feel good conversation, but we better get moving. Things look to be getting serious. And comms are being jammed."

Face looked at the Sergeant, "You're squad leader, sir. What's the plan?"


TAG @TheAdmiral

 

IC: DW-418121 ("Animal"; Craig Anthony Stewart)
A Shady Motel, Downtown, Javin


Craig nodded at the LT's order. It was clear she was giving overarching leadership, but was expecting the Master Sergeant to do the heavy lifting with her injuries. Which was fine with him. At least she was a Lieutenant worth her salt and not some stuck up academy grad with daddy's checkbook; he had more then once "saved the day" when those butter bars were still trying to figure out how to read a map. But Elena had proved her worth in Animal's eyes and her giving him wiggle room to take point on this mission was not seen as putting off responsibility, rather it was a fellow Stormtrooper looking for help in a time of need.

"Sergeant," Animal started, "Take your private & corporal, secure the area. We'll secure the motel. Make this our bastion of defense and base of operations. No one gets in, no one gets out."

"Understood, sir!" the Sergeant replied and pointed to his troopers to follow as he started instructing them to secure the immediate area.

Animal turned to Chris and Elena, "Private, you're on my shoulder. We secure the lobby first, then make our way to the manager's office. Find out who's who and where. Lock down the emergency exits, flush the hostiles. This building will be the civies best option for safety. Lieutenant, secure our rear. No one gets behind us."


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

It was a short time later that the lobby had been secured, civies were instructed to stay in their rooms, and they were in the manager's office where they had secured one "patrol trooper" who had been controlling the motel from the manager's office. His tattooed human face (with his helmet off) and red colored hair spoke anything other than military. It was the idiot's move to have his helmet off in the first place that made Chris' move to disable him so quick. The impostor was now tied & gagged in the corner of the office, next to the protocol droid that the impostor had most likely put a blaster through it's head earlier.

Chris was standing behind the receptionist desk acting sentry, while Elena was at the manager's desk accessing the mainframe. Animal was at the security station, checking cameras and ensuring all doors and elevbotors were locked down, preventing non-monitored movement from the management office.

"Find any Darkest Night members here?" Animal glanced over at Elena and asked, while he conducted another round of security camera checks.


TAG @TheSilentInfluence , @TheAdmiral (for security measures)

 

IC: Keia Tamara, Processing Station (Landing Pad 224-C), Outside Downtown, Javin

Keia spotted the stormtrooper walk in, head for the lockers. He muttered something to her, but it did not sound like an address. This day just keeps getting stranger, she thought. She waited at attention to see what the seated Major would do. There's something wrong with that trooper...

TAG: @Bravo

 

IC: Patrol Trooper "Alan" (nrc), Processing Station (Landing Pad 224-C)
Location: Outside Downtown, Javin


Arriving before the lockers, the trooper stood close enough for a green light to fan over his left helmet lens, with the locker not liking what it saw, emitting a low electronic fart, and a light above the door, lighting up red.

"Doh!" The newcomer clearly knew what this meant, for he instantly bent his head forwards so he could slide the helmet off, revealing dark hair, and a cheek adorned with tattoos.

He held the helm under the crook of one arm as he leaned close and allowed the system to scan his proper eye. This time, there was a more positive bleep, and the light switched from red to green.

He was able to pull a dark blue sports bag out by the handles, and shut the locker, pausing to put the helmet back over his head.

While all this was going on, the second pluming black dot that had been visible outside, grew into the form of a more aerodynamic-looking Nightscreamer speeder bike, which parked on the pathway, with it's Rodian rider running up to the doorway, jumping up onto the saddle of the C-PH, and trying to push the door open, which obviously didn't work.

The patrol trooper glanced up at a sign indicating the direction of the freshers, and ran off that way, whilst beyond the doors, the Rodian had dropped down and resigned himself to steering the temporary blockade that was the C-PH, out of the way, holding onto one of the handlebars to turn it to one side.

"Yooow-" The speeder and his legs, horizontal now, blurred out of sight!


Tag: @Kurisan

 

IC: Lieutenant Gwyneth "Gwen" Levric
The Drooping Talk, Downtown, Javin


It was becoming too much. She was use to numbers, patterns, sound bites, surveillance footage---not blood and dying. Sure, the Imperial Academy had a whole class to "prepare" future Imperial officers for the possibility of seeing this and boot camp did a more thorough job of highlighting the realism of it all...

The cook. Voss was his name, right? Or was it Jingle? He was telling someone about following instructions, about needles, about---was she supposed to do this? Was he talking to her? No, no, it was Alex, one of the TIE Pilots he was talking to. Thankfully. Then noise and something about medical volunteers.

All the noises. The blood. The tears. The pain. The---

"Hey, you've seen what it's like in the rest of the place, you want to help with the triaging?"

She looked at the waiter, her eyes lost in the confusion of the moment. Suddenly the world came closing in on her and she looked around the restaurant.

Blood. Pain. Suffering.

Her hand brushed up against something in her dress belt and she looked down at it.

A blaster pistol.

Suddenly the recent events came rushing back to her: the ISB agents, the shootout, she had fired back at the Imperial Patrol Troopers...she remembered the malfunctioning droid, the little girl she held, then she remembered...

The adults are watching...

Yes, the hacker---slicer---who had contacted her over Lepsawn 1-9 or, more correctly, who she had traced a signal to from the planet to him.

The adults are watching...

She could remember his typed words, his imaginary voice in her head from those typed words:

The adults are watching...

She looked at the waiter with a seemingly overwhelmed mind and suddenly threw up all over him....


TAG @Sith-I-5 , @Mitth_Fisto , @galactic-vagabond422

 

IC: Commodore Valentino Mazzanti
Bridge, Darkest Night, orbiting planet of Javin for light repairs, restocking, and refueling


"Commodore?" spoke out the communications crew member.

"Go, communications," Valentino said quickly.

"Sir, the Downtown Medical Volunteers' Control Room has activated emergency status. That has opened up emergency communication channels not initially associated to the jamming frequencies."

"Our comlinks?" Valentino asked.

"They'll be programmed to these channels under a different set of frequencies that most jammers can't catch. Not because they can't, but because most jammers only have a certain number of frequencies they can disrupt. And these emergency channels are so seldom used, that the likelihood of a jammer knowing the frequency and channel to jam would defy the odds of that being possible."

"It's worth a try," the commodore said, adding, "Will it be secure?"

"No, sir," the comms man said, "Everyone and their mother will be able to listen in."

Chief of Security Gotz Richter, Wing Commander Julius Petrov, Commander Julie "Jules" Viper, and Brigadier General Alexey Vasiliev strode onto the bridge with a confident Staff Sergeant Rusty Oak and calm Staff Sergeant George Ito breaking off from their escort of the 4 officers and staying back at the interior rear of the bridge, by the middle of the blast doors, ready to take up their escort charge at a moment's notice. The security detail was indeed skeleton-manned, as typically each officer would have had their own personal guard, as well as a box formation of at least 6 additional Imperial Navy Troopers for so many high-power Star Destroyer officers being escorted aboard the ship in one group. Richter and the others waited patiently without the regulation of addressing the commodore; now wasn't the time. Staff Sergeant Oak was rigged and ready to impress whoever he needed to, while George had that calm near-to-retirement steady gaze. Either way, both navy troopers remained equally quiet as the officers they recently escorted in.

"Hutt slime," Valentino breathed in frustration from the comm officer's earlier assessment, then said, "Do it. Redirect all crew members to the Imperial garrison. Send an immediate request out to the garrison for protection of our arriving crew---tell them to mobilize all their motorized armor units if they have to."

"Yes, commodore!" the crew member said from the crew pit.

Valentino looked at the commanding officer of the 714th Special Operations Shuttle Group, then his TIE Wing Commander, "Viper? Petrov?"

The two officers briefly looked at each other and slightly shook heads, then it was Viper who delivered the bad news, "It'll take too long, Commodore. Even if we mobilize all the shuttles of the Star Destroyer and that of the garrison and planet. Forty-one thousand personnel from planet to shuttle and then here would take hours."

Valentinto looked at Richter without saying a word, in which the security chief responded, "Security would be an issue with the shuttles. We wouldn't be able to properly check personnel or prevent explosives from coming onboard without direct contact and eyes on station."

The commodore turned back to the communications crew member, "Alert the garrison that we're coming in."

"How many shuttles per lift, sir?" the comms officer asked.

"Not shuttles, us!" Valentino said, striding towards the helms console, instructing the wide-eyed crew member there to take the co-pilot position.

There was silence on the bridge as everyone looked around at each other. Finally someone spoke up.

"Commodore, sir, our helms officer---Captain Natalia Markova---is down on the planet," spoke Senior Commander Vickers, "Are you prepared to---"

"Senior Commander," Valentino barked back, "Shut-up. I designed the Imperial Praetorian-class. I know this ship better then anyone."

There was a moment of pride that flushed through the skeleton bridge crew as the commodore took a commanding & refreshingly brash tone in a moment of crisis.

"I hate to break up the feel-good moment," Master Gunnery Chief Xavier Thunderstrike said, but added, "We still have several speeder bikes behind that main group. Orders?"

Vickers spoke up, "Their transmitting emergency beacons associated with the new channels that just opened up."

Xavier nodded, "Holding fire."

Richter turned to Vasiliev, "I'll prepare security at board hatches and the hanger bays. Bio scans and Imperial orders and IDs check."

"I'll deploy the Stormtrooper force to reinforce hard checkpoints on entry."

The two officers were gone to other parts of the bridge, going their own separate ways to accomplish the mission. Petrov was next as he spoke.

"I'll get a squadron of TIE Fighters in the air for security around the star destroyer."

"Give me a few TIEs as escort for the 714th. We'll pick up the critically wounded and VIPs," Viper responded.

"Consider it done," Petrov replied to Viper as the two officers broke their own way on the bridge.

Soon the Imperial klaxon alarm sounded throughout the Star Destroyer.

"Commodore," the comms officer noted, "Sir, Javin port authority is advising we do not have authority to enter atmosphere. We are to hold our low orbit pattern."

"Instruct Javin port authority to shove it."

"In those words?" the comm officer asked.

"Every last word," Valentinto replied.

The comm officer relayed every word, as ordered, then got in touch with DMV Control, "DMV Control, this is the Imperial Star Destroyer Darkest Night. We require immediate assistance. Dispatched an emergency message to all Imperial Comlinks coded DN-RY-243-8. Those are comlinks assigned to our star destroyer. Instruct all Darkest Night personnel to respond to the Imperial Garrison immediately for hard planet pickup."


TAG @Sith-I-5

 

IC: Keia Tamara, Processing Station (Landing Pad 224-C), Outside Downtown, Javin

"Excuse me, Sir, Major?" said Keia. "Did you see what just happened outside the door?"

She had also witnessed the odd behaviour of the stormtrooper. She decided to ask another question.

"Do you happen to have any blasters available, Sir? I think there may be a security situation..."

TAG: @Sith-I-5 @Bravo

 

IC: Du'ra Cell (npc), Dano Weesk (nrc), Harv Storante (nrc), Javin Oversector infinity pool, 'Galactic Seas' hotel, and DMV Control, respectively
Location: Javin


Du'ra kept her legs together and flicked them like a dolphin to dive under the guests that were paddling, and arced her back up to surface at the edge of the infinity pool where the water's surface was exactly level with the foot-wide brickwork that separated her and the pool from a horrifying drop down the front of the OverSector complex.

A floating waiter droid had her cocktail ready to hand to her, but she waited till her feet were under her, so that she could stand, rest an elbow on the wall, and reach up to take the grey metal flagon from the droid's tray.

The sodden bronze-coloured swimsuit that she had only just purchased, and decided to test out straight away, sparkled in the sunlight and complemented her light brown skin. She had really missed the feeling of water flowing around her, being weightless in a marine environment. She pushed her hands up her face to clear some of the water that was rolling into her eyes.

The Security Stormtrooper stared off into the distance as lime-green turbolaser fire speared down from the heavens, to strike out in the desert to what she guessed was the east of them.

"What in the Emerald Seas is going on out there?" She wondered aloud.

Several paddlers and drinkers around her, expressed their own shock upon seeing the sight.

****
Galactic Seas hotel

The young Rodian lad stood on the front step of the Galactic Seas hotel, leaning back as he studied the dark grey metal barrier where the entrance usually was.

Sitting on his feet, was a dark blue backpack containing his medical kit, dropped off by the HAVr transport as it had passed overhead. He had had to lean into a fountain to get the pack, but with an emergency situation going on, he really did not mind.

Lifting his comlink up to his lips, he reported in. "Control? Place seems to be locked down, certainly at the front."

****

DMV Control

Harv listened to the kid who had called in, telling him that the hotel where the shooting reports had come from, was locked down.

"You are going to be by yourself for a bit, Dano. I'm sending everything to the Drooping Stalk."

"Well, not much point till we can get inside, Control."

Harv nodded to himself, inwardly impressed with the youngster's level-headed thinking. "Alright, is it sealed off all the way around?"

"Not checked yet. I'll go look."

"Good b-"

"DMV Control?"

The operator glanced over to the speaker where the new voice had come from. "I've got another call coming in. Will call you back."

"V.I.G."

He smiled and shook his head at Weesk's use of the official sign-off, short for Volunteer is Green, Volunteer is okay, don't worry about the volunteer.

He put both hands on the edge of his desk, and pushed his chair sideways to the next comm-unit: "DMV Control, receiving."

"This is the Imperial Star Destroyer Darkest Night. We require immediate assistance. "

He felt a twinge of horror. What in the Fire Rings of Fornax could a star destroyer want from a provincial volunteer emergency service? "Tell us what you need; we'll let you know if we can handle it."

"Dispatch an emergency message to all Imperial Comlinks coded DN-RY-243-8. Those are comlinks assigned to our star destroyer. Instruct all Darkest Night personnel to respond to the Imperial Garrison immediately for hard planet pickup."

Harv gave the matter some thought for a few seconds. "Yeah, we can do that. Standby, Darkest Night."

He felt a thrill of excitement at being recognised by such as the Imperial capital ship. Such a contrast from the Oversector Command, which had rebuffed their offers of assistance with the crashed starliner.

He tapped the provided comm code, DN-RT... He noticed the typo, corrected the T to a Y, and carried on, -243-8.

"This is DMV Control. Emergency message to all Darkest Night crew. Emergency recall. Report to the Imperial Garrison immediately for 'hard planet pickup'." Okay, he had added a couple of words, however he felt that they were needed. "Emergency recall. Report to Imperial Garrison immediately for 'hard planet pickup'."

****
Oversector Command infinity pool

Du'ra snapped her head around at the sound of her comlink. The sound of a bubbling brook was pleasant to her, though she used it for external calls, not wanting to get rumbled whilst on duty.

Curious as to who, outside the Empire, could be calling her, she necked the cocktail, savouring the fruity taste, and ducked her afro'd head beneath the cool blue waters, in preparation for the swim back to it.


Tag: @Mitth_Fisto @galactic-vagabond422 @Bravo @TheSilentInfluence (comlink calls)

 

IC: Major Alvin Williamson the Second
Processing Station (Landing Pad 224-C), Outside Downtown, Javin

“Is that... ummm... normal, Sir?”

"Well...." the Major turned back around---his heart pounding at the thought that he might actually have to use his blaster pistol outside of training; he looked at the young ensign and said flatly, "No." He collected his thoughts after a moment and added, "But that's not our conc---"

He arched his eyebrow at the passing trooper and forced down the apple-sized knot he felt forming. He looked over at his fellow close to retiree and the two shared an uneasy look. Panic or not---Patrol Trooper or not---even the Stormtrooper Corps had orders they followed to a T and they, certainty, didn't walk or act like that. The two retirees kept looking at each other, each trying to get the other one to go say or do something through muted facial expressions that got more elaborate as time passed to get each other's point across. This was a processing station, not a fortified defensive position. As such, the best they could hope for with security was a handful of Imperial Navy Troopers that would have no former training or grounds---much less---to confront a Stormtrooper. Additionally, the Navy Troopers were more concerned about stopping clearly identified hostiles, verses someone sneaking around in stolen armor.

The Major hadn't caught her first words as he and Bill---yes, Bill---were in their facial match of wits to see who was going to blow their retirement first. But, the Major did hear the Ensign the second time as her voice was more directed at him with more force than before.

"Do you happen to have any blasters available, Sir? I think there may be a security situation..."

"Oh by the Force!" the Major cursed and stood up, grabbing his blaster pistol from his holster---

---grabbing his blaster pistol from his holster---

---grabbing his blaster pistol from his holster---

---grabbing, FINALLY! The officer got his service blaster pistol out of his holster and held it up besides his head like he was ready to terminate some bad guys with extreme prejudice.

"Stay here Ensign!" the Major boosted, going around the table and tripping over the table leg and stumbled to a recovery by holding onto a nearby trashcan that wobbled under his sudden encounter. He pointed at the two nearest Imperial Navy Troopers he saw and said, "You two with me!"

The Major started running...jogging...speed walking...being out of breath within a few good feet. He collected himself after a gaseous burp and looked at the two Navy Troopers, "What? I'm old!" He waived them forward, "Get after that Patrol Trooper who was by the lockers!"

The two troopers nodded, "Yes, sir!" and the Navy Troopers bolted after the Patrol Trooper.

The Major looked back at the Ensign and his comrade Bill, "Bill, give her your blaster pistol!"

"Over my dead body you old fat arse!" Bill replied, "And its Major William T. Slack to you!"

"Oh for crying out loud, Bill!" Alvin replied, the two retiree officers now gaining a crowd of on-lookers as they bickered back and forth like an old married couple, "You haven't fired that thing in ten years."

"Nine years!" Bill shot back.

Alvin rolled his eyes, "Bill---"

A short series of barked orders & shouts were concluded with two quick blaster bolts somewhere out of sight. The processing station went dead silent.

"Oh here!" Bill said, drawing his blaster pistol and handing it to the Ensign, "Her name is Lucy," Bill said, nodding at the blaster pistol, "Lucy. Bring her back."

"Move it, Ensign!" Alvin barked, starting his labored jog towards the way where the two Imperial Navy Troopers disappeared following the Patrol Trooper; a collection of three more Navy Troopers fell in line behind the Major as the Ensign caught up, they were nearing the corner where the refreshers were just a bit further beyond and around the corner and the last place they saw the Navy Troopers...


TAG @Sith-I-5 (for Patrol Trooper and 2 missing Navy Troopers), @Kurisan (for Keia)

 

IC: Si Nevo, and DMV personnel (npcs), The Drooping Stalk crossroads
Location: Downtown, Javin



Stepping out the HAVr transport's main hatch, at the head of the group of ten medics, Si Nevo clutched his blue backpack to the back of his shoulder, and looked around at the carnage.

Nearby staff from other retailers and establishments, as well as the more civic-minded civilians and military, were rendering aid to everyone that could be seen from the street.

Si marched into the restaurant's ruined entrance, boots crunching over the crushed glass that littered the floor, peering about for a situation that required his expertise.

"Protect life...protect life..."

Si looked towards the sparking WA-7 service droid with the failing vocabulator, half of it's face gone and the resulting crater a mass of still burning electronics.

"Alright, medics are here." He announced, "Who needs us?"


Tag: Anyone

 

IC: Ensign Keia Tamara, Processing Station (Landing Pad 224-C), Outside Downtown, Javin

"Stay here Ensign!" barked the Major.

Keia obeyed, watching the old man struggle with his weapon then argue with his colleague. Then Major Slack shoved his blaster into her hands.

"Oh, no, Sir," she said. "I didn't mean, 'Do you have a blaster for me.' I'm just a computer techn..."

"Move it, Ensign!" shouted Major Willimason and she gulped.

She looked at the model in her hands, recalled weights, ranges and power-cell ratings from basic training. She realised he was ordering her into a potential combat situation.

"This day is not going how I expected," she muttered to herself. What could she do? It was an order from a superior officer.

She scampered after the Major and two troopers. She wondered for a moment if this was some sort of joke - a hazing for new recruits? - she had fallen for several such things at the academy and still did not entirely understand their purpose, except to embarrass her...

TAG: @Bravo @Sith-I-5

 

IC: Patrol Trooper "Alan" (nrc) , Processing Station (Landing Pad 224-C)
Outside Downtown, Javin


As soon as Alan had gotten inside the communal freshers, and kicked the door shut behind him, his helmet skittered over the floor as he flung it aside, and he bent over enough to have both sets of fingers working on peeling the adhesive white shin armour, off his black undersuit.

Before him, there were closed stalls along the left, and several sinks with mirrors along the right-hand wall, and a picturesque window at the far end, giving a view of the desert and landing pads.

His employers' Escape Plan A would have been to speed enmasse to the open pit outside of Downtown, while for the detractors like himself, who felt that that was a tad risky, especially with a Star Destroyer in orbit; they had been generous enough to allow for several Plan B's, and this was his.

Whomever had placed the bag in the locker, had recognised that having time to change would be problematic, and had helped out there too, for what it was worth.

There had been an apparently-bricked Rebaxan Columni MSE-4 labour droid acting as a doorstop, which he had been told to look out for. They looked similar to, but were much smaller than, the typical Imperial MSE-6 mouse droid.

He had quickly switched it on, placed it outside the fresher door, close to the wall to make it harder to hit unless you had the time to aim at it, and affixed a five-shot stingbeam to the top of it. It had already been programmed to discharge the holdout weapon towards any heat signatures that turned up on its sensors.

If those Imps out there were determined enough, five shots wouldn't hold them back for long, but then again, they weren't stormtroopers.

Phoom! Phoom!

The twin energy retorts sounded from right outside the door, telling him that the MSE-4 had used two-fifths of its shots.

"Not going to be enough." He muttered worriedly to himself. "Not going to be enough."

The shin armour was flipped aside from both legs, and straightened up to start on the shoulder pads.

If he didn't make it out of this, at least he had the satisfaction of knowing that if history every recorded, The [insert name] have won their first victory against the evil Galactic Empire, his actions in-town would be a footnote.

That made him smile.

He'd prefer to live though.


Tag: @Bravo @Kurisan

 

IC: Major Alvin Williamson the Second
Processing Station (Landing Pad 224-C), Outside Downtown, Javin


Alvin felt his heart pounding in his ears from years of neglect of his cardio system.

Just 72 more hours and he wouldn't have to meet anyone's phyical fitness requirements, except---maybe---that hot-dog eating contest he always wanted to do on Coruscant. Rumor was, the lower levels had a yearly hot-dog eating race and----

"Major?" whispered one of the Naval Troopers behind him along the wall.

Yes, yes, a course: the mission!

"Right," Alvin said and peeked around the corner. He cringed at the motionless bodies, trails of faint smoking still rising from one of the trooper's chest wounds. A mouse droid was at the door, which seemed odd, but hey if Lord Vader polished that dark helmet of his---anything was possible, right? He looked back around the corner and kept his voice low, "Ensign, take one of the troopers and go around back outside. There's a window near the ceiling in this refresher: that'll be his escape. Don't let him escape!"

When Alvin and the other trooper were alone, Alvin looked at the Naval Trooper, "You're up, son. I'm too old for this kind of stuff. I'll cover you."

The trooper shook his head, "Sir, shouldn't you lead by example?"

The Major raised an eyebrow, "Oh, really, now? Good thing I'm retiring in 3 days and I don't have a care in a world at this point. Or I'd write your young arse up!"

"Sorry, sir. I'll take the---"

Alvin waived him down, "No, son. You're right," Alvin checked his blaster pistol, peaked around the corner again, then looked at the trooper, "Let the old fart show you how's it's done."

Thank the Force, Alvin reasoned, that he watched one of those holo police dramas last night. They had some good action scenes in there that he remembered. The real thing should be just like that. He took a breathe and withdrew his comm, "Ensign, are you two in position?"


TAG @Sith-I-5 , @Kurisan

 

IC: Elena Shan
A Shady Motel, Downtown, Javin

Elena was a little surprised at how quickly they had managed to set up with so few people. She looked over and regarded the new trooper; Chris and Animal for a moment; before skimming across the information log, searching for the rest of the platoon. Elena made a few adjustments and saw the civilians in their rooms, but was having trouble finding Business and the others. But it didn't look like they had left the building yet. "They haven't left the hotel. I think we should sweep the floors up to their last known location. Their rooms." Elena glanced down as her comlink beep and motioned for Animal and Chris to be quiet as she answered it.

"This is Lieutenant Shan of the Darkest Night." Elena answered and listened as what appeared to be a Provincial Security Team answer her. "I'm afraid we can't report for pick up. But we do require assistance at the hotel." Elena paused and looked troubled. She nodded at Animal and Chris to be ready and pointed towards the door. "We have a situation." She looked over at the tied up man next to the protocol droid. Hopefully we can clear out the hotel quickly. And perhaps they might know something about weapons being stolen.

Tag: @Bravo @Sith-I-5

 

IC: Sergeant First Class Adrias Stark
A Shady Motel, Downtown, Javin

Adrias’ eyes widened at what was going on. He could see people piling on the street and congregating at the windows to see what was going on. His previous considerations were evaporating. That guy was simply some sort of a terrorist, but Face was right, someone did supply him with an armor. So that meant there was a bigger conspiracy going on.

“We need to go back to the base.” he started “We should bring the prisoner, we have to restrain him. I am sure the ISB would like to hear what he has to say.” he almost felt sorry for the prisoner, almost.

He raised his hand and signalled for the others to remain silent. He could hear some distant noises coming from downstairs. The walls were so thin that the faint sounds could be heard. Also there were voices from outside. “Take position, it seems we have company.” he whispered.

TAG: @Bravo @TheSilentInfluence

 

IC: Harve Storante (npc), DMV Control
Location: Downtown, Javin

Harv didn't know how much of the Darkest Night's crew were on shore leave today, but he hoped that they didn't ALL ask for an explanation as to what was going on!

"Look, trooper; at least you got a swim in!" He retorted irately into the voice-pickup that he was now gripping the flexible metal stalk of, in his right fist. "Members of your crew have been attacked at several locations and your normal comms are jammed."

"I didn't notice."

"Well your star destroyer did, and now they want you all back. Now do me a favour and tell all of your fellow crew not to call back to argue the toss, but to get their abos to the garrison."

"You don't happen to notice where that is, do you?"

"Look for the nearest volcano, and it's perched on the exterior, rocky ring."

"Of a VOLCANO!!!???"

This was the first thing that she had said, that the controller agreed with. He would have been hard pressed to find a more stupid place to barrack hundreds of Imperial troops. "You're the Empire; it's not like you asked for planning permission! If you had, we would have said, although more forcefully, 'drokking NO'!"

A light pulsed on and off beyond the pickup, warning of someone else who fancied a chat.

"I've got another call coming through. Bye." Harv disconnected that call, counted to five in his head, and took the next. "DMV Control."

Another female voice came through, noticeably different accent. "This is Lieutenant Shan of the Darkest Night."

"Before you-"

"I'm afraid we can't report for pick up. But we do require assistance at the hotel."

Leaning out of his chair to grab a datapad, he resisted the urge to be sarcastic, regarding her assumption that hers was the only hotel on the whole planet.

"We have a situation."

"Alright Lieutenant Shan; so that I can get some help to you, what's the name of your hotel, and what is the situation, please?"


Tag: @TheSilentInfluence

 

IC: Patrol Trooper "Alan", DSV Rodian "Asean Murra", Processing Station (Landing Pad 224-C)
Location: Outside Downtown, Javin


Alan was sitting on the fresher floor now, frantically kicking his legs to dislodge the parts of the trooper undersuit that still clung to his ankles like the prehensile leaves of a Kashyyyk carnivorous plant! What did it want?!

Plan B was going to drokk, fast. That Imperial femme that they had exchanged fire with outside the restaurant, must have called in that she had been attacked by rogue patrol troopers.
He had insisted that they wait till everyone was inside before opening fire, but one of the other guys apparently had an issue with ISB.

Changing out of the armour should have been a surefire way to slink off to his transport, but putting his clothes in an actual Imperial facility had compromised even that.

If he got out of here, his choices as he saw it, were to either make it back to his speeder bike, or try to get to one of those cargo transports and 'persuade' the pilot to take him to his rendezvous. Getting the pilot to take him offworld was a very dodgy third choice.

He paused, cocking his head to listen, however as far as he could tell, there was no further activity outside in the hallway, beyond the two shots, and the sound of bodies - or other dead weights - hitting the floor.

The silence from out there, worried him. Hopefully the survivors were suitably cowed and waiting for the jamming to lift so that they could call for reinforcements, rather than planning something clever.

He kicked away the uniform and reached into the bag for his replacement trousers.

****
Outside the processing station

The Rodian had somehow let go of the accelerating C-PH speeder bike before it went too far, the thing carrying on out into the desert even as he tumbled into the parched scrub grass along the front of the station, probably about twenty metres from the front door.

Swearing softly, and certain that he had more than one broken finger on a hand, he winced and rolled onto his back, laying there for a bit.

"Ah well, no rest for the Roolek." Asean announced to no-one, referring to his particular clan. He clenched his stomach muscles and forced himself into a sitting position, using his elbow and good hand to help himself up further.


Tag: @Kurisan @Bravo

 

IC: Elena Shan
A Shady Motel, Downtown, Javin

Elena could almost hear the frustration in in the voice that received her and smiled a little, before she answered. "Yes. We're located at the Galactic Sea's motel. We've taken fire by unknown enemy forces and have multiple casualties." She replied quickly and then waited. Elena had no idea if they would actually help but it was worth a shot. But if they can't get here we will have to sweep the entire hotel with just two or three of us. Unless the other members of Joker Platoon are still in the hotel. She looked back at Animal and tilted her head towards the doors. "Keep an eye out." She said quietly, turning off her audio so she couldn't be heard. "Just in case we have to fight our way out of this room first. We don't know how many more of those traitors are out here."


Tag: @Bravo @TheAdmiral @Sith-I-5

 

IC: Patrol Troopers "Operations" and "Madeliene" (nrcs), Shady Motel corridor
Location: Downtown, Javin.


The two patrol troopers in the carpeted hallway, were slightly different to the rank and file, both real and faux, in that the piece of shoulder armour on their right side, was a dull orange, rather than the normal white.

Both were down on one knee, with the taller dividing his attention between the EC-17 blaster that he had aimed at the locked guestroom door, and the readouts on his wristcomp. "Karl is dead. According to this, he used the poison, so he must have survived long enough to get captured."

The woman behind him, Madeliene, spoke up. "So that thing about 'Stacy's Mom' wasn't worth it, after all."

"Seems not."

"Well, this was an abeyance mission for Karl anyway." That was their term for suicide mission. "Puts him in a unique position to help us."

Operations turned from the door and growled at his long-time senior colleague. "Madeliene, Karl is dead."

"From beyond the grave then." She flipped open the blank white cover on her own wrist-computer, tapped a series of alphanumeric keys and pressed send. "We will see if this flushes them out."

****
Inside motel room


The body of the interrogated prisoner audibly crackled with the sound of an electrical discharge, and stiffened, limbs and digits straightened for a long moment.

They relaxed, the corpse falling limp just as quickly, a faint smell of charred meat rising from the exposed parts of suit.

Tag: @TheAdmiral @Bravo

 

IC: Ensign Keia Tamara, Processing Station (Landing Pad 224-C), Outside Downtown, Javin

“In position.”

TAG: @Bravo