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

Cassell “Skipper” Wystari, Max Pallas, Ianna Mcear
Otoh Gunga, Concourse level 4

"Well, I don't know if we have time for me to get changed. Do you think Wolf is still down in the garbage?"

There hadn't been time to answer Ianna's question. Before Max could answer, her commlink chirped. She checked her datapad quickly. "Oh, kriff. Digger says they're on concourse level four, but there are two stormtroopers who just showed up to challenge them. We'd better get going." Skipper led the way, and the two young women followed him. Max looked at Ianna. "Lurell had been in the garbage and she was dragging a cargo net full of stuff. It left a... trail. Just watch where you're walking, I guess, if you don't want to mess up that dress." She considered. "It's pretty on you. I've got some stuff to help with disguises, so some make up and maybe a tint in your hair... you'll be fine."

Ianna's face soured a little hearing that Wolf now had a stormtrooper escort. That would make things a little difficult but, she had to trust in their cover, trust that Skipper knew what he was doing. As she followed along her lips pursed in more thought. Not so much about stepping in something but, make up, dying her hair, hiding who she is. It wasn't a bad idea especially given what her and her compatriots were planning. It might be helpful to obscure her identity, she was about to make a lot of enemies, on both sides.

"Thanks." She said simply a smile on her face, a grin hiding true intentions but, in this moment they weren't on different sides of the mission that lay ahead. They were on the same side going out to recover their comrade from a bad situation. "I'll keep an eye out." She went quiet for a little bit before turning back to Max. "Do you think you could help me...with the makeup and stuff? I've never really used it much. Not a lot of call for it on the farm."

"I don't usually bother with it much everyday, either... but back on Sharan, I was in an Amateur Dramatics Society. I stuck to the backstage stuff, helped with lighting, sets, costumes, props... I can help you with makeup." Max glanced at Skipper, who seemed to be deep in thought as they went along.

Skipper kept an ear to his companions as he held his data pad in hand. He glanced at the screen every now and then, comparing where they are with an old schematics of a Lucrehulk-class ship. Of course, the configuration has been altered from when the commerce vessel had been converted into a machine of war, then into a trading post… but he could appropriate here and there while comparing with the bearings of Digger's location.

There was a curiosity at the back of his mind regarding Wolf's situation. If the Imperial troopers were there… how would they react to the Battledroids? It then went on a tangent as he wondered how the Confederacy would fair against the Empire… probably more of the same, an extension of the Clone War. Only that the Empire will be without the aid of a clone army, a call upon recruits and conscriptions who would be inexperienced in the old ways of warfare.

He looked about, checking their surroundings, progress is going along as it should be so far. His ears pricked up as Max mentioned about being part of an Amateur Dramatics Society. He smiled to himself as she spoke about the tasks and roles she had done for productions. "Good skills to have." He remarked as he looked over to her. "How did you find being a part of it all?"

"Oh, it was so much fun!" Max grinned at the memory. "Bardan had us get into it because he thought it would be useful cover for some of our ops, and it was...but it was also fun! We did a lot of older stuff, light opera, comedies, you know, like The Studious Prince or Die Fahrvegnuegen... I actually had one non-speaking walk-on role in The Pirates of New Plympto. I was the Vice Moff's Aide-de-Camp during his big patter song. We had a blast." She hesitated, remembering. So many of her friends, dead now on Hoth. Well. "We should be getting close..."

Ianna didn't have much to say about acting or the theater. There wasn't much time for that when working on the farm. While her public school offered Drama, she never took it, she had chores to take care of, she didn't have time to be someone else. Her head came up when she heard Max mention them getting close. Ianna took that as a sign to start getting into character. She took a few steps forward to come next to Mr. Wystari. Taking his hand she didn't interlace her fingers with his but, wrapped around his palm. It was much the same way her and her father would walk as he made his morning rounds.

"Ready..." she looked up smile on her face but, her grip was maybe a little too strong, "Daddy?" She hoped it wasn't too weird for him, because it was for her.

Skipper was about to mention that he had also been in a a production of The Pirates of New Plympto… he had played one of the crew members to the Pirate King. With the shift of the focus was brought back on the mission, it would be best to save that for when they have downtime.

His eyes widened a fraction in surprise from the unexpected touch of Ianna's hand in his. "Yes…" he nodded and looked to her with an assuring smile. "…sweetheart. Not far to go now."

Ianna continued walking alongside Mr. Wystari her head swaying to a song only she could hear. There was still the nervous energy bubbling inside her, the mission that was still a little ways off but, still so close. The pitter patter of the group's feet on the metal deck resounded around them as they walked. After what felt like far too long she looked over her shoulder to Max.

"Are we getting..." she stopped as a scent reached her nose. It was somewhere between a compost heap and a staga pen. Growing up where she did, the young woman didn't retch didn't cover her nose. It wasn't the worst things she'd encountered. "I think we're close." She looked down finding a greasy sheen glinting in the station lights. "Wolf was in the garbage right?"

Max wrinkled her nose, then looked up. They were about 20 yards away, two Stormtroopers confronting a long-nosed droid with a blast rifle. Akiva stood to one side, two hands on her head, looking from one the other. She seemed unruffled, even interested in the situation. "Skipper, how do you want to handle this?" asked Max.

Skipper frowned and cupped his chin. "As curious as I am to see how this pans out between the troopers and the droids… time is of the essence. We play this as non lethal as possible… to minimise an incident. We are meant to be wealthy and late for the wedding. So we go in, talking and demanding… don't let up. If not…" He gave a grin. "...We set them up and knock 'em out."

Ianna nodded her head listening to Mr. Wystari, it was time to go big, to adopt the the personas they were about to inhabit at the wedding.

"Let's hope we don't have to knock them out." She said quietly before picking up her pace pulling the Skipper behind her.

"Were did she get to?" they young woman asked in a much louder voice, her tone being slightly higher than she normally spoke. "She is in so much trouble for making us late." She hoped her more huffy tone, and determined actions got across that she was 'getting into character' or at least as much as she could do.

Max tapped a command to Digger on her datapad, and watched as the little droid 'casually' rolled into position a little way behind the stormtroopers. Then she put the pad in her pocket, falling into place just behind Skipper, keeping her hands at her sides, casual, but within reach of her unitool.

TAG: @Corellian_Outrider, @galactic-vagabond422, @BobaMatt, @Mitth_Fisto

 

GM Update​

OOC: In an effort to keep the game moving along I'm going to be moving us past the Otoh Gunga as things seemed to have stalled out there for many players. So this update will end a few ongoing plot lines while also serving as a brief interlude (though feel free to post your character's reactions to it). My next update (which will come next week, so if you want to respond to this one get it in fast) will see the game fast forwarded again slightly as the Black Sheep (and Bolo) arrive at the villa for the wedding reception, That way we can bypass the mundane logistical issues and get right to the action. I'll give OOC reminders there in that update of every character's mission assignment. Any questions, I'm available as always via PM or in the X-Wing Fanclub.

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IC: Commander Flagg (NPC)
Aboard Valkyria, docked at the Otoh Gunga

Commander Flagg kept his face stoic through the antics of the droid they now knew was called Belgium and the now gentle cajoling of the squadron as they slowly persuaded the droid to join them. He had to admit, the droid might prove useful once they were on Naboo. People tended to ignore droids and it might be able to get into places otherwise off limits to his organic crew. It would also might be able to slice into whatever computer networks were present at the villa allowing the Black Sheep to not only blow up the party, but bring back vital intelligence as well. Better still, the destruction they would create could cover up any evidence of the data theft the droid might leave behind. It was the perfect addition to their little caper, and Flagg found himself glad to have the droid aboard.

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IC: BF-069 and BF-070 (NPCs)
Otoh Gunga main concourse.

"Where are you taking this thing?" The second time the query was posed to the security droid finally got some results, though not from the source the stormtroopers had expected. "Caught rifling through the trash. Who knew they were so possessive around these parts." The four armed being replied nonchalantly, both stormtroopers crinkled their noses. The stench from the alien was recognizable even through their helmet's built in air filters. It certainly smelled like garbage, though maybe that was just the way these sort of things normally smelled. It was so bad that neither trooper even raised their blaster carbines to butt strike the prisoner as they normally would for talking out of turn. The question had been posed to her captor, not to her.

Finally the droid answered, with it's high pitched whiny voice, though it seemed slightly different from others the troopers had heard in holo recordings. "Uh, yeah. Trespassing. People always poking their heads where they shouldn't be. I'm taking her up to the main office, see what my boss wants to do with her. You know. Justice. Authority. Consequences. You know all about that."

The droid jabbed the being with it's blaster and the stormtroopers shrugged. Nothing exciting then, just local business. Not a suspected smuggler as they had perhaps hoped, looked like their boring routine would continue on being boring routine. And they still had to find that droid, though the chances of that seemed slim. "All right, then. move along, move along." BF-069 waved them away, ready to get back to his droid hunt.

"Where did she get to?" The voice of a young woman young woman called out as the stormtroopers began to watch the security droid and the prisoner walk away. "She is in so much trouble for making us late." The troopers paused in their search as a group of three humans, one of them a very wealthy looking socialite, rushed towards the security droid and the smelly alien it was carting away.

It soon became apparent that the alien was in the service of these socialites, whether by choice or not didn't concern the troopers. Nor did the alien's final disposition with local law enforcement. What did concern them was that their commanding officer, Lieutenant Womack was fast approaching, along with a Gungan.

Lieutenant Womack for his part was already becoming tired of this place. What should have been a simple task, land, threaten an inspection of the books, receive his bribe was turning into a jaunt through the concourse level of the station en route to the administrator's office. His frustration was growing, and he'd already forgotten about the incident with the insolent little droid that had nearly run him over a few minutes ago. Such minor matters could not hold his concern for long.

What did concern them was the wealthy looking trio of humans imploring a local security droid to release their alien servant as two of his own men simply looked on, doing nothing. Wealth meant influence and influence meant power. And power was everything in the Empire. These folks looked like they could make life easier on a customs officer looking to move beyond petty graft and corruption. With them as patrons, perhaps he could move on to duty on a cruiser, or even a Star Destroyer where he could be noticed and improve his station. So, in order to impress them he intervened in what was clearly just a local matter under local jurisdiction.

"And what is this being's crime?" he asked in a loud booming voice, one that garnered the attention not only of the irate trio of humans but his stormtroopers, the droid and everyone else within earshot on the concourse. "Tresspassing sir, rummaging through the refuse chutes." BF-069 answered quickly. "Ah," Lieutenant Womack crinkled his nose at the stench that now assaulted his senses. "Yes." He swallowed hard, trying not to vomit. "Well, what and incredible smell you've discovered." His eyes began to water. "Release her," he announced loudly, hoping to curry some favor with the wealthy man. "I'm Lieutenant Fenton Womack, of the Imperial Customs Crusier Skimmer," his troopers moved forward ensuring the alien's shackles were removed and she was released to her employers. "I trust you will remember my name and this intervention on your behalf should occasion for it in the future..."

Neither he nor his troopers ever saw the droid that had casually rolled up behind them, or the Mandalorian who had witnessed the "rescue" from afar.

TAG: Mitthy @BobaMatt Galactic-vagabond422 Corellian_Outrider Mistress_Renata

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IC: Beskaryc Taab/Commander Flagg (NPC)
Aboard Valkyria, several hours later, en route to Naboo

Ensconced within the lower gun turret of the Valkyria, Taab sat, his helmet hanging on a hook next to the gunner's station, as the swirl of hyperspace spun angrily in front of him. They were on their way to Naboo now, on mission at last. Everyone had managed to make their way back to the old Corellian freighter which a bit heavier now than it had been when they'ed left the Intrepid. Cargo pods slung underneath containing the food stuffs they'd use as their excuse to get past the Imperial checkpoints around the planet, and of course smuggled within them, the explosives that those masquerading as reception staff would use to plant around the villa.

They were a being heavier as also, well a droid anyway, though it seemed to show something resembling sentience. Taab wasn't sure if that was just a matter of it's vocabulator, something unusual for a droid of it's type, or if Belgium as it was called (and just what was Belgium anyway? It sounded like some obscure curse word to Taab, though not in any language he remembered) really was semi sentient. In the end it didn't matter, the droid had accepted an offer to join them, at least temporarily. The droid seemed to have no love of the Empire, and would be employed by the wait staff as a mobile drink tray, while surreptitiously planting explosives provided by the Rebels around the reception hall. Flagg had also told it to keep it's audio and photo receptors open, any information it gathered would be of use to the Alliance, and they might even be willing to pay hard currency for it. That had seemed to settle matters with the droid, though privately Taab had recommended to Flagg to keep a close watch over the droid.

Of course that was not all Taab had talked to the Commander about in private. Once they had lifted off from the station he had motioned the Commander to the engineering spaces of the Valkyria, and informed him, away from the others, of the concerns Skipper had brought up with him while they were at the Otoh Gunga. Flagg seemed to take it in stride, though the man didn't appear to be one much for expressing emotion. He simply thanked Taab for telling him before sending the Mandalorian on his way. "I'll take care of it," he'd said, though since then nothing had happened, and so now Taab sat, alone, in the gunner's station thinking over what Wystari had told him, Flagg's reaction to it and the orders from Wallings, both to the Squadron at large and to Taab personally.

Unless the squadron managed to somehow pull things together this was going to get messy, both for Taab and the Alliance. A buzzing of the ship's intercom beside his head and through it came Flagg's voice. "We'll be arriving to Naboo soon, I need everyone assembled in the ship's lounge, now ." Taab raised and eyebrow and stood up, grabbing at his helmet and sliding it over his head. Looked like Flagg had determined a course of action.

A few minutes later, with Taab standing at his customary place at the back of the room, Flagg addressed the rest of the squadron, all of whom had somehow managed to squeeze themselves into the Valkyria's lounge. "Squadron," Flagg began, looking at them all, meeting their eyes. "I know this isn't a popular mission, it's not the sort of thing I signed on for either." He shrugged his slender shoulders. "I'm a pilot, and that's the way I like to fight, one on one, my skill against theirs." His voice had taken on an almost wistful tone, though it grew more serious now. "But at the end of the day, we're all warriors, soldiers for a cause, Rebels, and we fight the fight in front of us, for the cause. That's this mission." He looked down in thought for a moment before raising his head again.

"We follow our orders and strike a blow to the Empire that they might never recover from, a blow that will save countless other lives both rebel and innocent civilian, and buy the Alliance time to regroup after Hoth." He sighed loudly. "Look, I know some of you here have your own plans, ones that will compromise, or even sabotage, the mission given to us." He raised his hands to shoulder level innocently. "I don't know what those plans are, or who among you are planning, but I know they exist, and I am ordering you to drop those plans. Now."

His manner became more thoughtful now than stern. "This mission is hard enough, we need to be working together if any of us are to survive. We're alone, on our own, on an Imperial occupied planet. Our chances of getting through this alive are slim enough as it is without us working against one another interests." He shrugged again. "All we have is each other, and in order for any of us to survive this we are going to have to work together, the entire squadron in harmony." He clenched his fists in front of his chest. "That means one mission, the one assigned to us by command, and no others." His voice now became almost a whisper and the other pilots had to strain to hear him. "I know Wallings, I know her type. If anyone here causes this mission to purposefully fail due to their own morals or personal agendas, she won't kick you out of the alliance, she won't have you arrested, she won't assign you to poodoo details for the duration." He paused and the volume in his voice returned to normal, though what he said next was said with no emotion. "She will kill you, have you shot and then throw your body into space." He let that sink in for a moment before continuing on, "and I don't have a problem with that." He looked them each in the eye again and they could see that he was serious. "One mission, one squadron, and we all get to go home. Maybe you will be able to live with yourself, maybe not, but you will be alive." He nodded to himself. "And one more thing, if any of you screw this up and get another squad member killed because of it, you won't have to wait to face Walling's fury. I'll shoot you myself."

TAG: @zark @Adalia-Durron @galactic-vagabond422 @Corellian_Outrider @Rebecca_Daniels @Sarge @Mistress_Renata @TheAdmiral @Vehn @Mitth_Fisto @Sarge221

 

IC: Louise "Lou" Gray
Valkyria

Lou leaned against the back wall of the impromptu ready room, arms folded across her chest, with a perpetually pensive look on her face. She weighed Flagg's words against her own morals, her own thoughts, her own dreams for the mission and that was precisely when she'd come to realize that she had been horribly selfish. She'd placed herself and her own ideals above the team and possibly even above the mission. She was guilty as charged on that count.

Lou knew it wouldn't matter if she ran into her ex husband or not at the wedding. That was secondary, even tertiary, material. What mattered was getting onto Naboo, safely navigating the wedding, completing the mission and going home without anyone on their squad dying. She had to push aside her personal mission for revenge and focus on her role in striking a blow to the Empire, an organization she once served with zealous passion. Part of that passion had involved loving her husband and the other part had been finding stability in her life for the first time ever. Those days were gone. Now she was fighting for a cause. A cause she could die for if needs be.

Lou furtively looked around the room as Flagg wrapped up his speech. Point was made and the point was very clear. Do your job. Don't challenge the orders of the mission or compromise the safety of the unit as a whole and for the love of Maker find a way to work together. Lou realized she'd pushed aside some members of the squadron because they had completely different approaches and opinions as to how to complete the objectives. She'd never been in a squad environment where opinions mattered and or were even considered.

She felt bad that she'd marginalized Ianna to some degree and hadn't built her up when she'd had the chance. Ianna had distanced herself from Lou perhaps as a matter of survival and perhaps to protect herself from caring too much about those around her. Lou knew she needed to rekindle that bond and also reach out to others like "Skipper", "Veteran", or "Max". She wasn't doing this to be Miss Popular, she was doing this to ensure squad cohesion and unity. Mission above all else, as Flagg basically put it, and so personal feelings aside, Lou knew what she had to do: she had to dive completely into her new life as a Rebel pilot, squadron mate, and friend.

It was time to do one thing. She needed to adjust her way of thinking. She needed to become more than what she'd had to become the last few weeks. It would require a leap of faith. It would require a transformation.

Most of all it would require one thing, one thought, one step toward said transformation: Let the past die.

Tag: @Bardan_Jusik; @Mistress_Renata; @Corellian_Outrider; @TheAdmiral; @galactic-vagabond422

 

IC: Kayn "Mean Streak" Balzroth
Watching, Listening, Passing Judgement

All the Black Sheep were jampacked into Valkyria's lounge. Flagg was delivering a pre-mission brief. Kayn was listening with half an ear, focusing more on his neural implant, compiling a play list for the wedding reception. Whatever Flagg had to say was likely going to be the usual "Let's go get 'em!" motivational pudu straight out of the Officer's Handbook, delivered in the CO's decidedly unmotivational flat tones.

"We follow our orders and strike a blow to the Empire that they might never recover from, a blow that will save countless other lives both rebel and innocent civilian, and buy the Alliance time to regroup after Hoth."

Yada yada yada, thought Kayn. At least try to sound like you're interested in what you're saying, Boss.

"Look, I know some of you here have your own plans, ones that will compromise, or even sabotage, the mission given to us."

That caught Kayn's attention. Obviously, if Flagg had learned Kayn had a plan, he must have heard a distorted version of it. Because Kayn's plan was the one that would go above and beyond, turning the mission into a brilliant victory far in excess of what Wallings had planned.

"I don't know what those plans are, or who among you are planning, but I know they exist, and I am ordering you to drop those plans. Now."

Frack, he sounds like he means it. Once again, another of my great plans is getting pushed aside for no good reason. Things are going to be different some day when I'm in charge. But for now... Maybe I should go along with the official plan, at least until it all falls apart. I can keep my plan as a back up for the inevitable moment when it's needed. I can try to trust him, for now. Boss did a good job pulling us all out of the pudustorm when Chow Haul went divergent on all three axis. Maybe he's all right. But he's under Wallings' thumb, and she rubs me the wrong way.

Flagg was speaking of Wallings while Kayn was musing.

"She will kill you, have you shot and then throw your body into space."

I thought we were fighting in this Rebellion to stop people who did things like that. After this one is over, should we plan another rebellion against our own leadership?

"And one more thing, if any of you screw this up and get another squad member killed because of it, you won't have to wait to face Walling's fury. I'll shoot you myself."

And for some bizarre reason, I have no problem with that. Maybe because I know Flagg doesn't sit in a cushy chair at a nice safe desk, sending other people out to die without putting himself into the line of fire. On the other horn, what makes me think Wallings has never been in the field? I wonder if there's more to her than meets the eye. We ought to do some digging on that one.

In a moment he had composed a short note in his head, compressed it, and burst transmitted it to Max's datapad. U DIG UP ANY DIRT ON WALLINGS?

TAG: @Mistress_Renata and all the other poor doomed Black Sheep

 

IC: Jocelyn “Joy” Sunwalker,
Valkyria

Joy sat in the back, away from the eyes of her squadron mates. She did not want to be seen or interact with anyone, not right now. She was mentally preparing herself for the coming mission. There was a real chance that she was going to see her former squadron. That thought sent chills down her spine. She was not looking forward to meeting them, especially since she was now on the opposing side. They were going kill or maim a lot of people and surely some of her former friends will be injured or worse. Especially one of them… Anais.

Jocelyn half-listened to what Flagg was telling them. The speech was so-so, but the meaning behind it was clear. That was the point. Hearing that there were plans of sabotaging the mission made her frown a bit. If they were still in the Empire the ISB would have snuff them out like Corellian Hounds and would have executed them. Maybe incarceration would have been preferable but the results cannot be disputed. No dissention must be allowed. Period. She had questioned orders in the past, but always carried them out. There was no room for personal opinions or preferences. Orders were orders.

She looked guiltily at Ianna, but there was nothing to be done. Joy then looked at Lou who too seemed to be lost in her own world. Ianna would not understand them. Coming from Imperial training changes you forever. They could claim they were Rebels now but the truth was they carried their past with them. They all had to do things that they were not proud of and preferred not to talk about. Joy had killed civilians or hunted Phoenix Squadron because she was told to. The latter was justified as it was war… but the former? She could not talk openly to the rest about it. Well… she did, with Lou, maybe only she could understand that… maybe the Mandalorian too.

Joy shook her head, there was no time for such things. She had to prepare. Change into uniform when told to and go with the mission. Hopefully there won’t be any hiccups. A thin, but sad smile formed on her lips. The last time she was preparing to go to a reception was almost ten years ago at their graduation. The Emperor hosted the event in the Imperial Palace for the students of the Academy on Coruscant. It was a grand event, lots of dignitaries, Moffs, top brass, high ranking officers and the like. She and Anais had been very nervous and excited as they would soon learn where they will be posted. Her lover’s father along with Joy’s had pulled some strings to keep them together.

This time it would be different. They were going to hit the Empire, hit them hard. Probably speeding up the resolution to this conflict. Finally bringing some peace. But at what cost?

There was someone speaking. That caught her attention. It was... Ethan... was it? She was not sure whether she had placed the right name to the face. The plan sounded logical but the idea that the Empire would negotiate with them for some people was laughable. Noble, but pointless. The Emperor would surely not lower himself to negotiate with terrorists. Families who were found doing that would also suffer the consequences.

As for the information the Empire would just simply either change codes and procedures or would bolster the defences to the more vital installations. Or even worse... lure them into a trap.

Joy pursed her lips in disappointment and tried to avoid looking at Ianna, who seemed to be part of this little cabal. Though she still thought of her as her friend.

TAG: Anyone

 

Maxime “Max” Pallas
Lounge of the Valkyria, ready to throttle someone

Someone ratted. Max schooled her face to be expressionless, even as her mind was racing, wondering who ratted them out to Flagg. Lou, or Joy? They would be the most likely candidates; former Imps, dedicated to following orders, no matter how poorly-conceived they were… could be Ianna, figuring to sabotage the plan altogether. Or one of the new guys… come to think of it, she hadn’t seen that Buck guy since they landed on the lucrehulk and she didn’t see him now. Had he been a plant from Wallings? But he hadn’t been in that meeting. She hadn’t seen the worm guy either, and she knew he--she? It?—had been opposed to her proposal.

As she pondered the possibilities of a traitor within the squadron, Tehanis spoke up. Max frowned. A better alternative? Was she proposing…no. It was Ethan speaking now, Ethan with that stupid, childish idea that Ianna had come up with. A moral victory, disrupt the wedding without actually killing anybody.

She listened with disbelief and growing fury as he parroted the naive, simple scheme that Ianna had hatched, but his last words put her over the top.

“If we kill the Imperials at the party, the Garrison at Naboo will throw everything they have at us to avenge them. But if we leave with hostages they probably keep a distance as to not risk the hostages lives. Which could allow us to slip away."

There was a pause as the Black Sheep considered his words. Max took a deep breath, as the blood began to pound in her ears. He had forgotten, completely forgotten. For one moment, their faces swam across her vision, the soldiers and Marines drawn up in the burning hangar, as if on parade, saluting her and Malek as the two pilots left them to die.

She stood up, and smiled sweetly at her former wingmate. “Um, yes, I’m sorry, is it just me… or is that the STUPIDEST idea in the history of covert ops?" She ignored the look of shock on the faces in the room. "I mean, I do hate to have to point out one teensy-weency, itty-bitty flaw in your plan… totally leaving aside the whole argument that Ardus Kaine is actually a greater asset to the Empire than Tarkin was –he’s not-- your idea that somehow, through some miracle, we will be able to escape with hostages because the Imps won’t want to risk their lives is, well, wrong. Scarif taught us that. They destroyed their own base, all of their own personnel, rather than give us a victory. Or, on a smaller scale, the Grappler incident. You DO remember that, right?”

Max took a deep breath, feeling the heat of the flames on her cheeks, the smell of burning conduits, Major Kenless’ voice in her ears, knowing he was going to die… May the Force be with you! Tell them what happened! She couldn’t keep the bitterness from coming through her next words.

“Maybe you've forgotten, I wish I could. I figured we’d just damage the gravwell generator, enough for our transports to escape, but oh, no, YOU had a better idea! You figured we could disable the ship with a minimal loss of life.” She laughed without humor. “Silly me, I didn’t realize it was Imperial lives you wanted to save. It seemed like a bad idea, but I went along with it, thinking that, oh, well, you’d been in combat longer, maybe you knew what you were doing. I didn’t realize you were just a coward.” She saw his eyes widen. Yeah, you heard me.

“Remember? We were able to disable the entire ship, ready to have the transports escape, and then, what happened next? Let me think…oh yeah. The Star Destroyers fired on their own ship, rather than grant us a victory. And everybody died, including the transports we were supposed to protect, all our own people, all of them who trusted us, who trusted you, because they thought you knew what the hell you were doing. Because they didn’t know you don’t have the stomach for bloodshed anymore.”

Max glared at Ianna. “I can excuse Farmgirl for thinking this is some schoolyard game of soldiers, where there are rules, and we’re supposed to fight fair and everyone will live happily ever after, but I can’t excuse it from you, not after what you did. Don’t think, for one millisecond, that the Imps will let us get away for fear of harming the hostages, because that’s not how they operate! Scarif, the Grappler…” She nodded at Lou and Joy. “They’ll tell you. They know I’m right,” she said. “Imps will shoot their own grannies rather than let us get a victory or gain an asset. They'll shoot us, and the hostages, no matter who, and not lose any sleep. Because that's how they are.”

She turned to Flagg. “This is a poorly-planned op, with insufficient intel,” she said, “and I seriously question Walling’s command abilities. I think we should take whatever steps we can to minimize civilian casualties, because indiscriminately killing everyone will just give the Imps a major propaganda victory, branding us as the terrorists everyone thinks we are. Or maybe that’s what she wants. I, for one, am not at all confident of where her loyalties lie. We also open ourselves up to being tried as war crimes criminals, even by a New Republic, if we somehow manage to overthrow Palpy, someday. But,” Max looked back at Ethan, “if one of those Imp top brass find themselves in range of my blaster, don’t think for one second that I won’t put a hole through that fancy dress uniform. Unlike you lot, I know we’re in a war. Excuse me.”

She left the room then, because staying would mean she’d have to punch someone. Punch Malek. Shoot Malek. He had completely forgotten. He’d betrayed all of those people on the transports and he was going to betray the Sheep and the rest of the Rebellion because he was afraid to spill blood. If she stayed in that room, she’d have to hurt him. The Valkyria wasn’t that big, but there were plenty of cargo bays, and if she couldn’t really get lost, she could gain a little breathing space, a little alone time to let herself cool down. And she needed some time alone to mourn yet again for all of those young men and women, who had died so that they could escape, who had died because Malek didn't want to kill Imps.

TAG: Anyone

 

IC: Beskaryc Taab/Commander Flagg (NPC)
Aboard Valkyria, en route to Naboo

Taab watched quietly as Commander Flagg's words sunk in. The tension was palpable, they believed that Flagg would kill them if their antics ended up in the deaths of another squadron member, and Taab didn't blame them. He believed it too. He also had no trouble believing that Wallings would kill any of them that jeopardized the mission. In fact he didn't just believe it, he knew it. They were all expendable in her eyes, so long as the job got done.

"Sir?" Taab was surprised when it was Vixen who raised her hand and spoke. "What if there was another way? A better way?" Taab's eyes narrowed behind his T-Visor. He found that he he too agreed with Flagg and Wallings, though that hardly surprised him. He had taken on her special orders without much question. He very much doubted there was a better way.

"I, I mean we, have what we think is a good alternative." Well, at least it was coming out into the open now. Flagg looked unsurprised, was this his goal all along, to just flush the conspiracy out into the open, or was he just playing it cool? Taab didn't know the man well enough either way to say with any certainty, but his general lack of emotions tended to point to the latter.

Meanwhile Tehanis had fallen silent as several members of the squadron looked to one another with meaningful glances. Finally it was Malek who spoke up. "With all due respect Sir", he cleared his throat, "but we have discussed the plan and came up with an alternative strategy." Taab found his right hand flinching and moving down slightly towards his holstered WESTAR-35. Maybe what this group needed to motivate them was a summary execution now. Flagg caught his subtle movements though and gave a barely noticeable shake of his head. The commander was at least willing to hear them out. Taab cocked his head to the side as he listened to the rest of what veteran had to say. Unless the Emperor himself was actually going to show up, Taab didn't think this mission was ever intended to win them the war, just give the fleet enough time to reorganize and plan their next move after the disaster on Hoth.

"So we came up with another plan..." Taab frowned behind his face plate as the plan was layed out. The Mandalorian wasn't buying any of it, well very little of it anyway. Regardless of what the squadron, or the Rebellion as a whole did, they would be branded as terrorists by Imperial propogandists. And hostage taking was precisely what terrorists did, so the so called plan would do little to dissuade that. To Taab's mind it was all hypocritical double talk designed to assuage the guilt of a few squeamish squadron members. None of them had any problem with killing, it was the killing of supposed innocents that bothered them. Innocents died in war, collateral damage, and though a soldier did his or her best to avoid it, everyone knew it was a possibility, and sometimes even a certainty.

"...But if we leave with hostages they probably keep a distance as to not risk the hostages lives. Which could allow us to slip away."

The last was clearly directed to the rest of the squadron, an appeal to their survival instinct. That Taab viewed as a call to mutiny, and his hand move closer, actually resting on the butt of his blaster pistol, as he eyed his targets determining which would go first. But Flagg gave Taab another look, one that told him to stand down as he looked ready to respond himself when Max lashed out at them all before disappearing down the corridor. After that, there was nothing left to be said. So Flagg dismissed them all with a simple, uncaring. "You all have your orders."

---

GM Update: Setting the Scene​

24 hours later...​

​

IC: Beskaryc Taab
OP Charlie Foxtrot, overlooking the villa, Naboo

Hidden among the brush near the summit of hill 151 Taab looked out towards the causeway that connected the island villa to the mainland and slowly lowered the rangefinder on the left side of his buy'ce (helmet). Instantly a magnified view of the target area sprang to life in his T-Visor and Taab hunched a little bit lower as he watched the Black Sheep arrive to what would be for many Imperials, their last dance.

Some of the Black Sheep had already infiltrated the proceedings. Picked up earlier by Imperial transports from various locations purporting to be their home residences, Max, Wolf, Veteran and the droid, Belgium, had arrived over an hour ago in the guises of wait staff and servers. Scanned prior to entry, the organics among them of course weren't carrying any explosives, though the droid was, in a hidden compartment. Hopefully they had used the extra time inside the villa to not only scout out good locations to place their thermal detonators, but to actually retrieve the detonators they would use from the crate Frogfoot had managed to have smuggled into the villa's kitchen, the crate marked marked womprat poison.

Taab couldn't concern himself too much with them though, not right now anyway, he was too busy looking over the villa's defenses and watching the various Black Sheep approach them in small groups. Many still weren't happy with the mission, and Taab couldn't blame them, but it was the mission they had been assigned, and he hoped they would all carry out their orders to the best of their ability. The lives of the entire squadron rested on it.

The causeway itself was guarded with a pair of AT-DPs which flanked either side of the shoreway at the causeway's entrance. Towering above them was an AT-AT that straddled the causeway itself there on the shore side. Below the trio of walkers was a platoon of stormtroopers on guard duty. They were checking IDs and invitations ensuring that only the chosen few were getting through. Well, the chosen few and the Black Sheep.

Vehicles, mostly land speeders of various, and mostly luxurious, designs were letting the party goers off at the feet of the AT-AT, where the guests were told to have their ID and invitation handy for confirmation by the Stormtroopers. Once approved, they were free to walk across the causeway itself, which was in the form of a large two lane paved road roughly 300 meters long before they would arrive at the island villa. Entry into the villa itself, Taab could see was being controlled by another squad of troopers, black clad Deathtroopers. These were a different sort of threat entirely from the bumbling stormtrooper corps. However, they didn't seem to be actively checking anyone's ID and instead merely stood at the ready, holding doors open for the arriving guests. A blocking force near the doors then in case the villa needed to be locked down then, Taab thought. It seemed that the only check being performed was at the causeway itself, once past that the Black Sheep would be in and free to roam the villa, so long as they didn't get caught doing something nefarious by the roving fire teams of storm and death troopers doing random patrols and spot checks throughout the villa.

Taab tensed as he witnessed Flagg, Sunwalker, Gray and Durham all arrive together via a hover bus. They didn't arrive alone. The bus was filled with various other officers who were attending either as friends or alone without dates. A BOT, Taab nearly laughed to himself at the thought of a bachelor officer's transport, instead keeping his laughter in check he merely smiled behind his faceplate. The private joke was a good way to relieve the tension as the quartet's IDs and invitations were each checked separately, and eventually the group as a whole was waved through the checkpoint. Though some had been pulled aside for a "hand scan", none of the Black Sheep had been singled out. They were in, and with their bombs. Four down Taab thought to himself as he blinked several times, wishing he could rub his aging eyes. That action was prevented by his bucket of course, Taab could have removed it and taken a break, the marines he was with had electro binos, they could have watched over the arrivals, but Taab wanted to look after his flock himself. Right now, it was the marines job to watch his back as he did so.

Several other posh guests arrived. One of them a Gungan that Taab thought he recognized, but he couldn't be sure. He hadn't encountered too many Gungans, so it bothered him slightly that he didn't know who this was even if he looked familiar. He had arrived by a hover taxi from the starport by the markings on the cab, so he must have a ship there. Not a local then, though his species was native to this world. He was clearly a civilian though, and being a non human on an Imperial occupied world, probably not a real big fan of the Empire. That might throw a spanner in the works, but then again maybe not. After all, he had merited an invitation to the wedding reception after all. The Black Sheep would probably need to talk to him, quietly, to ascertain his loyalties and then figure things out from there. The Gungan was cleared through security though he did seem to merit some extra attention before eventually being waved through and Taab quickly forgot about him as another vehicle pulled up, a garish hover truck converted to a limo.

That would be the vehicle acquired for them by the remains of the local rebel cell. Taab had been uncertain whether to trust the few survivors when they'd met them. Wallings had said they'ed been wiped out, though Frogfoot seemed to disagree, though he did admit they had been scattered and were no longer in touch with one another. The doors to the truck opened and out stepped Yaren and Balzroth along with a slithering Parvil. Taab noted with disdain as more stormtroopers than necessary checked over their credentials, drawn to the figure of Zara Yaren. So unprofessional these whiteshells Taab thought to himself. Even covered by their armor Taab could see they were oogling the twi'lek, especially after they discovered she was a part of the evening's entertainment. Taab contented himself with knowing that soon those stormies would be at the bottom of a pile of rubble partially created by the twi'lek officer as they were finally waved through and allowed onto the causeway. Taab breathed a private sigh of relief. Things were going well so far, now they just had the "individuals" to worry about.

They too began to arrive. First Mcear and Panno by a hover cab. They were quickly ushered through security. A few minutes later Wystari and Quin arrived by a hover limo driven by Nombuun that had been stolen earlier that day in order to complete their image as wealthy socialites. Once done the Sullustan would head back to the Valkyria to await word of their departure. Meanwhile Quin too was given an inordinate degree of attention by the stormtroopers. However, upon hearing she was actually the wealthy man's body guard they backed off a little. They weren't bothered again as they made their way down the causeway and into the villa. Taab relaxed again for a few moments, watching other guests arrive and mentally ticking them off in his mind. It was a target rich envrionment he could see. Moffs, admirals, generals and other top officials both military and "civilian" were here, along with various important support staff, including several in Imperial Intelligence.. Killing them would set back Imperial efforts in the sector by six months at least, and give the Rebel Alliance the time it needed to regroup following Hoth. Again, a few were made to wait as they were scanned by hand held devices, the targets of this extra precaution seemingly picked out at random.

The steady stream of arrivals began to slow down when the hover cab returned, this time depositing a lone woman. Taab didn't recognize her at first, though he knew who it was. Tehanis had finally arrived, and looking rather stunning. She cleaned up well Taab thought as the stromtroopers again began moving in towards her. Her forged ID and invitation were scanned, as had all the others, Taab had no worries about that. Everyone's credentials so far had passed muster, but this time there was a problem Taab could see as the stormies began to move in on her. It was odd though, their weapons weren't raised, they were acting almost casual, but predatory as well. Taab was too far away to hear what was being said, even if he boosted the audio gain on his systems, but their intent was clear. If they found out what she was carrying, they would surely sound the alarm, and then the gig was up...

---

​

IC: Commander Flagg
Entering the villa, Naboo

Flagg kept his distance from the other rebels impersonating officers as they entered the villa along with a large group of other Imperial officers. They'ed been picked up along with the other real officers a little less than an hour ago by a chartered hover bus that spent the next half hour picking up Imperial officers staff level and below for transport to the party. Little was said by the officers on board, either to one another or to the rebel impersonators. It seemed everyone was keeping an almost paranoid silence, which made Flagg wonder why though he had no explanation for it. All he did note about them was that there seemed to be very few combat officers on the hover bus, they all seemed to be from various support branches of the Imperial military. The tip of the spear folks must be on different buses he thought. Maybe those would be a bit more animated.

Arriving at the villa, he disembarked by the bus and was taken in by the security around the building. There were a pair of AT-DPs there at the start of the causeway, and a giant AT-AT loomed over them, straddling it. The causeway then led up to the villa itself, where he could see guards at the doorway. before he could get there though, there were Stromtroopers here, at this end of the causeway scanning invitations and ID. Flagg quickly got into line and within a few moments it was his turn.

"Next," the stormtrooper seemed bored as he waved Flagg forward. He quickly produced his invitation and forged credentials which were duelly scanned by the Imperial before he was waved through. "OK, come on. move along, move along," he waved Flagg through so he could get to the next officer who waited impatiently behind him. Flagg returned his ID code cylinder to his breast pocket and the actual paper invitation (they had scanner codes imprinted upon them) to his back pocket as he anxiously moved down the causeway towards the villa itself. He could see now that the guards at the entryway were not mere stormtroopers but the much more capable Death Troopers. He prepared to hand over his ID again but they simply waved him through. It looked as though once their identities had been confirmed by the outer cordon of security they were in.

The large double doors opened before him automatically now, and Flagg was greeted with his first impressions of the villa's interior.

​

To the left and the right of the entryway were several short corridors leading to other rooms but before him was a large ornate staircase. He and the others were politely ushered up those stairs by a trio of stormtroopers, and then to the right where a large dining room awaited them.

(OOC: Ignore the kids there in the image )​

Inside circular tables and dining room chairs had been arranged throughout the guest hall. Each table was set for eight guests. Beyond the tables was a dance floor and finally, at the front of the room a long table at which the bride and groom were already seated along with their immediate entourage of maids and men. The tables closer to the front of the room will be for their families no doubt he thought tho himself as he surveyed the room, noting the ornate marble pillars that held up the vaulted ceiling. He also noted how each table had placards denoting who they were for. Again, the upper ranks would be afforded better seats towards the front of the room. Those will be high value targets. Along the right hand wall was a well stocked bar while along the left, up towards the dance floor was a small stage. That would be for the entertainment he thought, hoping Zara and Kayn knew what they were doing. He resisted the urge to give them any sort of acknowledgement as they set things up there.

Looking behind him towards the staircase he saw that had he gone left off of it there was a hallway with many rooms, quarters for the guests that needed them he supposed. Convenient. Glancing around it seemed the only way off the level was by the grand staircase he had ascended but looking closer he found he was mistaken. Behind the bar was a small loading lift, one that led down to the kitchens and he assumed up to areas above the reception hall where the party was being held. The meals to be served would be brought from there then. He could also see that the sheer curtain behind where the bride and groom were seated barely concealed another ornate staircase that led up. Bridal suite? He thought to himself. That or perhaps other living quarters. Those wouldn't be for guests, but family. Shouldn't be a need for us to hit those. He paused as he looked around again before fishing his invitation out of his pocket. Naturally it had the table number to which he'd been assigned listed on it, he should have thought of that earlier. Table 19, roughly halfway down the list then. He shrugged, folding it and putting it back away. He had no intention of sitting down, not if he could help it. In his mind the sooner he placed his assigned bombs, the better. Looking around he was glad to see no younglings anywhere within sight, that would have caused immediate problems, and that that most everyone disguised as a guest had managed to make their way past security...but where was Tehanis?

TAG: @galactic-vagabond422 @Corellian_Outrider @Rebecca_Daniels @Sarge @TheAdmiral @Sarge221 @Vehn @BobaMatt and introducing @The Real Kyp Durron to whom I extend a hearty welcome to the game. Kyp's character sheet, while approved by me, is being kept secret for now for ...plot reasons.

OOC: Everyone aside from Amber should be inside the party by the time her little issue comes up. Take your time here folks, no need to rush through and have your characters plant your bombs all at once. In fact I'd be rather happy if none of those bombs were placed yet by the time my next update is posted. These next few posts should just be everyone getting acclimated to our surroundings so we all have a good sense of what lies in store for us. I'll have obstacles and "surprises" (though I think many of you have figured some of these out by now) for you to encounter along the way. Though the mission is of course to blow the villa up, the real fun here will be your interactions with the various guests. At least that's my hope. My next update will see you all interacting with at least one NPC party guest.

Feel free to write about your character's own experiences at the security checkpoint in the past tense in your posts and your actions inside the villa up to this point. Addie, your tag is coming up here in the last portion of the update. Kitchen and wait staff folks, your tags are coming up next!

---

IC: Gourmand (NPC cooking droid)
Villa Kitchen, one level below the reception area, Naboo

As usual the ornery cooking droid in charge of the kitchens at the villa was irate, though today perhaps more irate than usual. This was the main event here of Gourmand's entire culinary career and she was dealing with the new wait staff! Who had thought to hire these thoughtless beings, she wondered to herself as she observed them moving about in the kitchen, grabbing trays full of of hors d'oeuvres before heading over to the lift on the right side of the kitchen that would lead them directly to the guest hall. Those would be circulated first, before the meal was to officially begin. Drinks of course were up to the bar up stairs, though she had been delighted to see another inorganic, a delightful little astro mech droid that seemed to share her derision for the meatbags. He had already been fitted with a tray mounted atop his head for serving drinks throughout the guest hall. That would see him mostly going back towards the bar there, so she would have little interaction with him, but he wasn't the one she was worried about. It was the organics.

Oh the organics, all new to the staff and totally clueless. If their clumsiness ruined the presentation of even one of the droid's culinary works of art she would have them deported to the spice mines of Kessel. And who was this new maître d'? Eliana she had said her name was? Gourmand had broken in the old one quite nicely thank you, and then she'd been told that the being had slipped and fallen and broken his own neck on some spilled tea. Organics, so unreliable. Now this new woman had been brought in, too young to have any real experience running a wait staff, but she had the proper credentials, and even a hint of a Naboo accent as well, so the droid took her to be a local. At least she seemed to know her way around the kitchen. Wait, where was she?

Gourmand took a moment to back away from the counter where she was chopping vegetables to look around the main central pillar there which held up the ceiling (and the guest hall) over their heads to catch a glimpse of her new maître d'. Hmm not over on the right side of the room near the lift, the droid swiveled her phtoreceptors to the other side of the kitchen and saw her coming out of the large walk in pantry located on the left side of the kitchen. That's where all sorts of dry foods were kept for the kitchen staff to use while anything that needed refrigeration was kept on the level below, freezers on one side of that spacious room, refrigerators on the left. That too could be accessed by the lift that was now bringing the drink carrying astromech and the new group of waiters up to the guest hall. Of course the pantry was also where she'd been forced to store the large crate marked "womprat poison." She hadn't ordered any, and it's delivery to her had bothered her. It didn't belong in the kitchen, but there had been no time to move t away from the luxury spices that had arrived in the same shipment. So that crate sat, unopened as far as she knew, in the back corner of the pantry.

"OK all of you," she said now to the droid and waiters headed up the lift with their trays of hors d'oeuvres and drinks. "Circulate and make sure everyone has a chance to have something to whet their appetite before the meal begins and then come back down here. Let's go, chop chop."

TAG: @TheSilentInfluence @Mistress_Renata @Anedon @Mitth_Fisto @zark

OOC: Silent's character has been approved by me, but as with Kyp's, for game reasons her CS is being withheld from general circulation for the moment. Make of that what you all will. Silent, welcome to the game.

---

IC: WP-077 (NPC)
Causeway security checkpoint.

Like the other stromtroopers manning the security checkpoint, WP-077, generally known as Willy Pete to his white shelled comrades in arms, was bored. Verifying IDs and invitations to some shindig for the high up muckity mucks wasn't the most exciting duty but it did have it's perks. They managed quite a few looks at some very good looking men and women (depending on your orientation), pulling them aside for additional scans. Some they could get away with patting down, though many they could not. Willy Pete himself had been particularly interested in the Zeltron woman who had come through a while back until he was told she was the man's bodyguard. WP-077 didn't need to be sent to traction for a week after getting roughed up by some merc, so he let it go. The twi'lek entertainer had been quite the looker too, and Willy Pete envied the troopers stationed inside the villa who might get a better glimpse of her later.

"Hey check this one out," came the voice of his counterpart as an elbow was shoved gently into his ribs. WP-077 took the nudge in stride as he raised an appreciative eyebrow at the young red headed beauty now exiting her cab and approaching the checkpoint. She looked to be attending alone, that would make this easy. Her ID and invitation were quickly scanned and verified, so there was no danger, which just led to the next step as WP-077 and several of his comrades surrounded the young woman.

"Excuse me miss," he said sneering under his helmet though there was no way she could see that. "We need to get a more detailed scan of your...person." He raised a handheld scanning device. "Strictly routine of course," though the short bark of laughter he let loose said that this would be anything but a routine inspection.

TAG: @Adalia-Durron

OOC: The Rundown on everyone's assignment so we're all on the same page

• Major Beskaryc Taab and the marine detail: Concealed outside as backup and operate the detonator for the bombs
• Commander Flagg: Wearing an Imperial officer's uniform carrying 4 bombs
• Sergeant Jocelyn Sunwalker: Wearing and Imperial officer's uniform and carrying 4 bombs
• Lieutenant Louise Gray: wearing an Imperial officer's uniform and carrying 4 Bombs
• Flight Officer Kardon Durham: Wearing an Imperial officer's uniform and carrying 4 bombs
• CWO Enzo Parvil: Disguised as the owner of the "entertainment" and carrying 2 bombs
• Flight Officer Zara Yaren: Disguised as a entertainment while carrying 2 bombs
• Lieutenant Kayn Balzroth: Disguised as a entertainment carrying 2 bombs
• Flight Officer Maxime Pallas: Disguised as a waiter assigned 6 bombs currently located in the crate marked womprat poison in the Kitchen pantry
• Sergeant Ethan Malek: Disguised as a waiter assigned 6 bombs currently located in the crate marked womprat poison in the Kitchen pantry
• Flight Officer Akiva Lurell: disguised as server assigned 6 bombs currently located in the crate marked womprat poison in the Kitchen pantry
• Belgium: Assigned as a mobile drink tray, carrying six bombs in his innards
• Flight Officer Amber Tehanis: disguised as a guest carrying 3 bombs
• Flight Officer Ianna Mcear: Disguised as a guest, carrying 3 bombs
• Flight Officer Buckson Panno: disguised as a local citizen and acting as Mcear's date 3 bombs
• Lieutenant Cassell Wystari: disguised as a wealthy citizen, 3 bombs
• Flight Officer Quin: disguised as Wystari's date and carrying 3 bombs
• Flight Officer Nib Nombuun: Guard the ship, and bring it in for Black Sheep retrieval once the bombs have gone off.
• Bolo Lappie: Attending the Reception as a guest. Not yet a member of the Black Sheep, no assignment
• Mackenzie Hollymender: Assignment CLASSIFIED
• Eliana Saeli: Assignment CLASSIFIED

Any questions about any of this just PM me or ask in the fanclub.

 

IC: Eliana Saeli
Villa Kitchen, one level below the reception area, Naboo

Eliana didn't really want to work for a droid, at least not one with such a demanding attitude, but she needed the work. And Naboo wasn't bad as far as Imperial planets came. She had no fault with the Empire's elegance, and getting a few extra credits for a job well done would be worth it. Father was right about how the Empire spares no expense. She perked up a little as the droid gave commands, before straightening out.

"You should listen to her. Today would be a bad day to anger the Empire." Eliana looked at the workers. It's not going to be easy. Eliana thought as she glanced at the pantry. "Is there anything else you would like me to do?"

Tag: @Bardan_Jusik @Mistress_Renata @Anedon @Mitth_Fisto @zark

 

IC: Belgium
Villa Kitchen, Naboo

Belgium really didn't mind this assignment. Some might think that to be as exceptional as Belgium was, that it would grate terribly at his ego to suffer the role of serving droid. They'd be wrong. It was in this element that Belgium thrived. No one suspects an astromech droid to begin with, that natural air of innocence altogether too thick to overcome, but combined with the role of a servant to nobility? Servants were perhaps the one class of folks more invisible than astromechs. Belgium loved it.

On top of that, he was making new friends. He'd had a lovely little chat with Gourmand, the cook. They'd done so silently, flashing their front lights in binary at a rate too fast to be noticed by anyone not a Verpine. Gourmand shared Belgium's distaste for organic life, and Belgium felt they'd bonded over it.

But now it was time for the big job. His was two-fold. Plant the explosives, and case the joint for valuables. While he hadn't technically been instructed on the second, it seemed implicit. If you're going to blow a place up, why wouldn't you remove the good stuff first? Seemed obvious. That said, if any of his associates was concerned that the second part would eclipse the first objective, they needn't have worried. You didn't steal when you could still be fingered for worse things. If he got caught lifting the odd bit of jewelry, and a search was made which revealed the explosives, things would go poorly. If he got rid of them first, they'd simply take his contraband and escort him to a tech lab with a restraining bolt that was out of the blast zone anyway. Regardless, he needed to remove the large amount of explosive payload currently residing in his interior first.

Then on to the loot.

Belgium, laden with a tray filled with thin flutes of bubbly intoxicants moved his way through the double doors leading into the dining hall. Oh. OH. There was a lot of glitter going on here. Keeping his proverbial hands to himself was going to be a strain on his iron self control.

Dooooo, weet - (I'd better get rid of these things fast.)

TAG: @Bardan_Jusik @Mistress_Renata @Anedon @Mitth_Fisto @TheSilentInfluence

 

OOC: This is long, but I have a lot of set up to do to get Max ready to interact with guests. Have guests in town, so also wanted to get this up, since time may be limited for the rest of the week.

IC: Maxime “Max” Pallas
Villa Reception area, Naboo
Several hours earlier

Max didn’t mind hard work or waiting tables –she’d done it before—but she and the rest of the kitchen team had to hustle to be ready for their transport, while the rest of the Sheep could prepare in a more leisurely fashion. She’d made sure the special silicate powder was in the bottles of foundation and moisturizer she’d passed around, and made sure that the team had what they needed for their disguises: hair dye, eye drops to change the eye color, a few fake scars (she’d made one up specifically for Flagg), and the removable tattoos for Kayn and Zara.

She’d taken care with her own disguise, even though she had no particular reason to believe that her face would be in an Imperial database. She’d dyed her hair red-gold, similar to Tehanis, but faded out, and she’d added a texturizer to make it seem dull and limp. Pale foundation washed her out, and some contouring powder gave her shadows under her eyes and creases at the corner of her mouth. Her eyes were already puffy and red from the angry tears she’d shed earlier, but she added a little red liner just in case. She took a final look of approval before tying a white scarf shot with perrefoil threads over her hair. She looked ten years older, maybe twenty, tired, unattractive and not interesting or threatening at all. Perfect.

And she’d kept her word, offering to help Ianna with her makeup. She’d been surprised when the girl accepted. Max let her choose her own hair color and eye color, and then she applied the foundation, contouring Ianna’s skin to give her cheekbones and soften her jawline. Delicate blush and a rose lipstick, eyeshadow to enhance, not overpower, the girl’s eyes… Max smiled as she finished, and began to arrange Ianna’s hair. Blend, blend, blend… Lady Tioré had drilled that into them in the theater group. She was one of the main costumers, and an expert at hair and makeup. Makeup for every day is not the same as for the stage! It must be subtle, seamless, so keep blending! Max had been told that Lady Tioré had once been a Handmaiden to the Queen of Naboo, so she had absorbed as much as she could from the older woman. Even though she was still annoyed at Ianna, she couldn’t help but smile at the expression on the young woman’s face when she saw herself in the mirror. “You’ll do,” said Max, patting her on the shoulder. They were landing, no more time to chat.

And she, Lurell and Malek (who she was studiously avoiding) were put to work the moment they cleared security, setting up the large, round tables, laying out table linens, plates, cutlery… the floral arrangements arrived and were screened, ready to placed on the tables and around the room. Akiva was eyeing them, thoughtfully. Max observed the layout of the room, noting exits, entrances, security cams… the windows were wide open allowing guests to wander out on to the terrace overlooking the lake. No worries about intruders from there, even if there was a boat or a skimmer, the guards in the AT-AT would spot it. (Although as the main guns were pointed towards the mainland and the ‘legs’ of the machine were on either side of the causeway, it wouldn’t be easy to turn it around for an attack from the other direction, but Max figured there was a TIE squadron on call, just in case).

There was a gaping flaw in Walling’s plan, one that Max hadn’t pointed out. The idea was that the team would set the bombs and walk away… but how? Later in the evening, yes, some of the Sheep masquerading as guests could maybe slip out, but kitchen crew were in it to the bitter end. They’d be expected to stay and do clean up. She looked out the window at the lake, hoping Lurell could swim. Malek could take his own chances. She glanced at the bar, where there was a mixology droid in low power mode, and at the stage where Parvil, Zara and Kayn would be presiding. She was a little surprised they weren’t there already, setting up their equipment. A glance at the bar gave her an idea. “I’ll take care of stocking up,” she said, heading into the kitchen.

It was presided over by a culinary droid, calling itself Gourmand, who had made several loud, disparaging remarks about organics. Max could have pointed out that without organics, it would have no reason for its existence, since who would need to eat? But she refrained.

“The freshers need to be checked and make sure the hospitality baskets are set out. Also, the tables need the nuts and savory kips placed on each one, and the bride wants a sprig of silklinn in each napkin. Did those all get folded properly? She specified a lily fold.”

Max blinked. “Bar stock,” she said, taking a serving cart.

“Oh, over there,” said Gourmand. “Bowl of olivets, cerises, and there are bins of sunfruit, palli and muja slices for garnish. Fill the ice tub from the freezer, and make sure that there’s a stack of clean towels for Mix-II.”

“Right,” mumbled Max. She assembled the cart and slipped into the freezer. Digger, painted in the green and white color scheme of Belgium, followed her in. “Okay, now,” she said. From a secret compartment, the little astromech produced the components of her blaster, which she assembled quickly, an extra power pack, and Max’s favorite unitool. She had cut a slit into the outer seams of the oversize black slit skirt, and now she reached through it to the many-pocketed utility trousers she wore underneath. She still had to get the explosives, but she hadn’t yet decided where to place them.

Filling a large tub full of ice balls, she rattled back into the main reception area. As she moved behind Mix-II, the mixology droid, she took out a dataspike that Digger had prepared, and opened a door on Mix-II’s back. The device began to jerk to life, but Max had accessed its dataport and the spike was soon downloading the program. It was the one she had used on Foodie, but she’d fixed it, tweaked it… it would attack anything in an Imperial uniform. She hoped Flagg, Lou and Joy were good at ducking. While the program downloaded, she took a gleaming golden ice bucket, filled it, and after a thoughtful look at the bottles on offer, she stuck a bottle of high-end sparkili wine into it, added two fluted glasses, and put them on the serving tray that Digger had been outfitted with.

“Okay,” she said. “Go to the upper floors and do recon. Exits, surveillance, anything suspicious… you know what to look for. If anyone challenges you, tell them it’s a complimentary delivery for the VIP suite.” Digger chirped happily and rolled into the lift, while Max quickly finished stocking the bar. She hesitated, and could not resist looking at the crates of wines and expensive liquors. They probably wouldn’t have…wait! No, impossible… She picked up a bottle of Corellian whiskey, with a familiar logo, a raven crouched on a rock. Corven Ridge Distilleries… For one moment, she almost couldn’t breathe, and she wondered if there was a way to make off with the precious bottle. She’d sent Digger off, and she couldn’t conceal everything under the split skirt… No. Making a face, she replaced the bottle. The droid would notice it was gone. Later, perhaps, she might be able to grab it as they left. But right now, it would stay in place. Wistfully, she put it with the others, then retrieved the dataspike, slipping it under her skirt as the mixology droid came fully online.

“Wha-what… I don’t…” Its photoreceptors flickered. Max cleared her throat.

“Input audio authorization protocol,” she said. “One source only.”

The droid’s photoreceptors flickered again. “Awaiting input,” it said in a flat voice.” Max thought for a minute.

<<Red rum,>> she said in Corellian. Those words, said only by her, would activate the aggressive behavior against any Imperial uniform in the room. She hoped. She wasn’t sure what form it would take, from an unarmed mixology droid, and she probably wouldn’t need to call upon it… but if they needed a diversion, they had a backup.

“Acknowledge. Audio input sequencing complete.” The droid hesitated, then shuddered. “I’m so sorry,” it said, in a very different tone, “I must have had a slight flutter.” It turned, scanning the bar. “Oh! You’ve got it all ready.”

“I tried to,” said Max. “Just let one of us know if you need anything else.”

“Yes, of course,” said the droid. Fully online now, it began setting out glasses and bottles, opening the red wines so they would have time to breathe.

Guests would be arriving soon, and Max still had a lot to do. She grabbed the rest of the stack of towels and quickly went through the other rooms on the floor, wishing she trusted the other Sheep enough to ask them to do it. There were game rooms, lounges, meeting rooms, something that looked like a game room… She moved through them, checking exits, entrances, any evidence of surveillance cameras… pausing here and there to arrange a chair, plump up a cushion, or take a dead flower out of an arrangement, as if she was legitimately putting things in order.

She had gotten through the freshers, noting their location and the number of relief units in each, when she had her first encounter. An older man in the white uniform of the Engineering Corps barreled through the door, nearly knocking her down. He stared at her in disbelief and indignation.

“What are you doing here, woman?” he barked. Max lowered her head submissively.

“Towels, sir,” she said, indicating the stack in her hands. “I have just finished; it is all ready for you, sir.”

“Well, get out!”

“Yes, sir.” She left quickly. The first few guests seemed to be trickling in. Quickly, she walked back to the kitchen, pausing to study the menu that had been posted on a wall, with a list of ingredients of the various dishes and potential allergens noted. There was also a seating chart, and she studied this more carefully. The names and ranks of the guests were listed. She looked to see where the Sheep had been placed. The higher ranking people were closer to the newlywed couple at the top of the hall. All she had to do now was get her hands on some bombs. Although…

She looked at the massive pillar at the center of the kitchen. Actually, taking down the pillar would take down the entire ballroom. Good fall back, too.

There were trays of cold and hot canapés laid out, and several drinks, which were balanced on a tray mounted on top of that new droid, Belgium. Max didn’t trust him. She still couldn’t believe that a completely strange droid had been invited to join in on a covert, probably suicidal mission. But then, as she understood it, Tehanis and Malek had extended the offer, and as neither one of them seemed to have any survival instincts whatsoever, she supposed it shouldn’t come as a surprise. It could be (probably was) an Imperial plant, feeding a datastream back to heaven knew who. Until someone (preferably her) did a deep core system scan and analysis, she wasn’t going to trust it with anything, and she’d cautioned Digger to avoid it as well.

The three Sheep gathered around Gourmand. Someone else had joined them, a slim, dark-haired woman in server’s garb. Max eyed her, askance. Who was this?

"OK all of you," said Gourmand. “Circulate and make sure everyone has a chance to have something to whet their appetite before the meal begins and then come back down here. Let's go, chop chop."

The young woman looked at the Sheep. "You should listen to her. Today would be a bad day to anger the Empire."

Max blinked in disbelief, and couldn’t help exchanging a look with Wolf. The girl had NO idea….

TAG: @Mitth_Fisto, @Anedon, @zark, @galactic-vagabond422, @TheSilentInfluence, @Bardan_Jusik

 

IC: Louise "Lou" Gray
Imperial Wedding
Naboo

Lou shifted uncomfortably in the packed hoverbus. She was sandwiched between two larger men and desperately needed to stretch her legs. She kept her head down and avoided making eye contact with the others as her stomach was all tied up in knots. The kind of knots that could ruin a mission and get people killed. The kind of knots that were only created when old feelings, old triggers, were stirred up once more.

The bus stopped at the causeway. Lou checked her disguise in the bus mirror while she waited for the line of officers in front of her to file out. She looked every bit the part of an Imperial officer. Every bit except for the attitude. She'd have to correct that. She'd have to correct that immediately.

Lou adjusted her cap and ponytail and stepped off the bus. She was immediately greeted by the sweet fragrance of Naboo and the overwhelming security presence surrounding the upcoming nuptials. The AT-AT towering overhead, coupled with the AT-DP additions, did little to calm her down. Clear the mind, Lou reminded herself and she briefly closed her eyes and did just that. When she opened them again she was the Imperial officer, not the Rebel pilot, and anyone looking at her wouldn't suspect anything else.

Flagg passed through the security cordon first without any difficulties. Lou was up next and presented her own identification for review. She looked at the stormtrooper reviewing her identification with a look of disdain. He was scum to her. He was beneath her and any Imperial officer worth his or her salt wouldn't give the stormtrooper the time of day. The stormtrooper seemed to sense this and before long the identification papers were thrust back into her hand and she was given a curt "Move along."

Lou made her way down the causeway keeping a quiet eye on the black clad Death Troopers. near the venue's entrance. A chill slipped down her spine. She'd heard stories about them. Dark tales whispered in the night to frighten young cadets. Their combat reputation preceded them as did their reputation for performing less than savory acts in the name of the Empire. They were a brutal and very professional killing force and Lou privately hoped that was as close as she'd come to such things for this mission.

Lou entered the villa and allowed herself a moment to soak in the beauty of Naboo's great architects. They were true masters at their craft. True artisans. It was a shame the galaxy had gotten so utilitarian as time had gone on and the old crafts had faded away. She didn't have a long time to look at the craftsmanship of the work before being ushered upstairs to the reception hall.

She remained quiet while taking in the wedding preparations. Wait staff flitted here and there, floral arrangements were checked and double-checked, and everything was combed over with a fine attention to detail in anticipation of the Imperial wedding of the decade. For a brief moment Lou was reminded her own wedding although that had been a largely outdoor affair. Nevertheless the preparations felt the same. Hectic, intense, and lovingly calculated.

Lou was lost in thought as she quietly contemplated the wedding ahead. Did the bride and groom love one another or was this all arranged? Was this all some power play between two aristocratic families vying for the favor of the Emperor? Did they even get a word in edge wise as to who they'd really wanted to marry or how they wanted their lives to unfold? Probably not, Lou thought.

Did you get a choice? Lou asked herself as she took up position near the bar.

The answer, like so many heart breaks in her life, was a resounding no.

There had never been a choice.

Not now, not ever.

Tag: @TheAdmiral; @Bardan_Jusik; @Sarge221

 

IC MacKenzie Hollymender
Level Two Naboo Villa

Mackenzie looked down to the courtyard where guests were arriving, he was doing nothing more than his job. Watching the Stormtroopers scan the invitations, then sight the identifications of all guests. The process was slow but there could be no mistakes today, everything had to go as planned, as it had been planned. Turning his head he observed a green painted R2 droid carrying a bottle of some that looked expensive moving down the nearby corridor. It was on a mission he assumed, 'probably a gift for the Bride and Grooms quarters' he mused before he turned back and went on watching the arrivals. Reaching up he rubbed his chin thoughtfully, the sooner this event was over the better for him and everyone concerned..



Tag - no one really.

 

(Speical thanks to @Anedon and @Mistress_Renata for collaborating with me on this post.)

IC: Ianna Mcear, Ethan Malek, Maxime “Max” Pallas
Valkyria, docked at the Otoh Gunga

Silence, that was what greeted them after Ethan's speech. She saw the guilty look on Joy's face. The stony look from the Boss. They had failed again...once again her squadron wanted to shed blood. She was about to speak up to ask them all to throw away this mission to just walk away, find another way to deal achieve our goals.

Then Max broke the quiet, not with agreement, not with critique but, anger and rage. The red in her cheeks showing passion she was bringing to the surface. Many things were said, insults were made, holes punched through their plan, but, what stuck out to her was the Grappler. Ethan putting Rebels at risk to minimize casualties, on both sides...No, he wouldn't have done that. That was combat, they would try to kill them all...not Ethan...her friend wouldn't do that...he wouldn't endanger comrades lives just to keep a few imps breathing, not when they were bearing down with turbolasers.

Flagg remained unmoved their orders were orders...there would be no changing them. Ianna's heart sank, her former wingmate got fellow rebels killed, and now for the second time her plan to not shed blood was shot down. Even though everything was falling apart she forced a smile on her face. No one liked this, least of all her but, there was nothing they could do right now. All she could do was smile.

The young girl gripped Ethan's hand, a bit too strongly.

"It's not true...the things she said, you didn't put them at risk, not like that right?" She looked up smile on her face, just a little too wide for her face, her eyes quivering just a little. "It's not true right. She's just confused. Right...right."

For a moment Ethan kept silent. The Grappler, why was everything coming back to that ship? For a moment he thought about what he should tell Ianna, should he lie to her? Deny his involvement? No, she was his wingmate, she deserved the truth.

"It was a risky plan," he admitted. "That Interdictor was pulling us out of hyperspace and it would have prevented the rest of the fleet from fleeing as well. It was only me and Max, two X-Wings and I had already used my torpedoes. I saw now option to takeout the Interdictor field from the outside. So I came up with a plan to board the Star Destroyer with the soldiers and marines stations on our transports, a plan Max eventually agreed to." He made a pause for a moment.

"At first everything went well, I managed to take out the ships primary bridge, while Max secured the secondary and hacked the Star Destroyers systems. We managed to take control but the empire... they decided to rather destroy the ship than to let us take it. And when we made it back to the hangar the fighting had destroyed our transports, so the soldiers urged us to leave with our X-Wings before the Grappler was destroyed. They all perished that day, because of my plan."

Ethan made another pause, longer than the last.

"Afterwards I've thought much about the battle, what I could have done better, a way that would have saved everyone. Could we have brought the field down with our X-Wings if we had stayed would some of the rebels behind us have had weapons to damage the Interdictor or would another plan not only have caused our deaths but also the loss of the ships behind us? I don't know, will never know. That's the reason I never wanted a higher rank, I don't want the responsibility to make decisions like that. But in that moment I had to and the guilt has haunted me ever since."

Ianna was quiet trying to process, trying to square the stories in front of her. Max said he was a coward, what the young woman heard was that he was doing his best in a bad situation. She wasn't a tactical genius, clearly, but, she knew that the shields of capital ships were tougher than X-Wing lasers could cut through. His plan was dangerous but it could have worked, it nearly did. He was right, maybe he could have waited but, how long could he and Max have survived, how long could they protect the transports? She felt conflicted. Yes he put the people he was supposed to protect in danger and got them killed but, would it have been better to wait? To hope that help would come? She didn't know she wasn't there but, she could feel that Ethan was just trying his best and failed. She thought of Maniac her wingmate at Hoth. He was just trying to make things easier for those on the ground. He took a risk and paid with his life.

This was a war.

That line had been thrown around her like she didn't know. She knew, she just didn't want to give in to all the darkness that exists in war. Her schooling on Chandrila taught her that war could turn good people into monsters. That many horrible things had been done in the name of one side or the other. She thought this war was different, that the Empire was evil and needed to be deposed, replaced with the right and just Republic.

It seemed she was wrong...and now she was going to be one of those criminals. Could she say she was 'just following orders'? When this war was over would she still be the same girl that left her family? But, this wasn't about her and her heart.

"You…" she started still with her broken smile, "You did your best...It didn't work. I'm sorry. But, she's wrong, you're not a coward, no coward would put themselves in the front line. You were on the ship, you were with the Marines. No a coward would have stayed far away, in their X-Wing. You are not a coward."
______________________
Later

Ianna wandered the deck not sure what to do the mission was going ahead whether she liked it or not. He plan torn down in front of her eyes. She still felt conflicted between her want to prevent cold blood from ending up on her hands, and keeping her Squadron alive. Should she just plant the bombs set them to go off and walk away, and deal with the consequences.

She didn't know what to do. Then she ran into Max, looking older than she normally did, a few bottles and a small case in her hands

"I brought you the make up for your disguise," Max said. "Did you still want help?"

"Oh...Max...you look different." Ianna replied taken more aback by her sudden appearance than taking in what she said.

"Disguise," said Max. "If we get caught and I'm identified, there could be repercussions for the people I care about. The ones that are left, anyway. Which reminds me, I brought you the make up for your disguise. Did you still want help?"

Ianna looked down, it was strange seeing Max explode at her, insult her, at every turn put her down, acting so friendly. I guess she didn't hold a grudge, or was just a being of her word.

"Sure I wouldn't know the first thing about making a disguise." She replied following Max to a place they could sit down. When asked what hair color or eye color she wanted Ianna was unsure. Changing her hair and eyes, changing what she looked like, to become someone else. Who does she want to be, what kind of person should she be...to distance herself from the actions she was about to commit. Was it that easy? It wasn't me that killed all those people it was someone else.

No, it would still be her, just in a mask, as much as she would like to just turn off her mind, close her heart, hide it under makeup and contacts that was impossible. It would still be her, though after this mission, would she still be the same?

These thoughts distracted her until Max started applying the makeup.

"Um...just brown hair and eyes." she said in answer to Max's questions about hair and eye color. She mused a little those were the same hair and eyes of Valere, the local beauty from a few farms over. All the boys looked to her when she showed up. Not that they noticed Ianna, the short stocky girl with a grip like a vice.

"You're wrong..." the young woman said in a quiet moment. "Ethan's not a coward...and I'm not stupid. Ethan walked into that ship with you, with the Marines, no coward would do that, they would have stayed in their X-Wing were it was safe, where they could escape." She looked down pursing her lips. "And I'm not stupid for not wanting to kill so many. You know that this is an atrocity. What we are going to do is a war crime of the highest order. It doesn't matter if the imps would do the same and I don't care about how it looks to the outside. I care about our souls, our hearts. If we do this we will become like them...cold unfeeling to the suffering of others. Just droids carrying out orders, not seeing our enemy as beings...just threats to be eliminated. If we go through with this...where does it end. Where do we draw the line after all this icy blood on our hands. It might be just officers this time but, what if it's their families next...the Empire wouldn't hesitate, what if it's their planets after that...the Empire wouldn't hesitate. We shouldn't be measuring ourselves against them, because we will just fall in as deep a pit as them."

"I guess, I just want us to rise above, far above the Empire, and not stain our hands in cold blood."

"If we can't defeat them, it won't matter how clean our hands are," said Max. "Like I said before, moral victories mean nothing without actual victories. Now stop moving." She moved to apply a liner to the younger woman's eyes. "These people don't think like you, Ianna. They don't believe in fairness or helping people or anything like that. It's all about power. Who has it, who wants it, how to get it. They have the most advanced weapons, the most advanced ships, trillions more credits, billions more troops. Trying to fight from the high ground isn't going to bring them down. Just look at the Jedi. Look what happened to them." She dabbed a brush in a pot of something and began to brush it on to Ianna's lips. For a long moment, neither of them said anything. Then Max sighed.

"I've been in this fight for a long, long time," she said. "I know how they behave. I know how they think. I've seen what they do, Ianna. I've seen people who think like you, I've seen those people slaughtered. They won the moral high ground, but they didn't win anything else and they are dead, with nothing to show for it. I'm sympathetic to your beliefs, but frankly, we can't afford them. Not now. Talk to Lou. Talk to Joy. Then listen to them. Otherwise..." Max sighed. "You'll have to transfer back to a regular squadron, because we aren't a squadron, we're a cell. And in order to win, hell, in order to survive... we will sometimes need to go low." She drew back, studying Ianna. Then, she smiled and handed the girl a mirror. "You'll do," she said.

With a slight but, waning smile she got up and made her way to the exit. The younger woman paused for a moment.

"If you don't care about how dirty your hands get...If all you care about is winning. Why are you hesitating to just blow it all up?"

She left letting the question hang there as she made her preparations.
______________________________
The Villa, Naboo

The ride was quiet. Ianna spending most of her time wondering what she should do. She could feel the cold metal of the bombs she carried on her person. These bombs were meant to destroy everything, to bring the villa down around the Imperials ears. Killing indiscriminately, without giving them a chance, it all felt wrong...it all felt like something she didn't sign up for. Outside the taxi she and Panno had taken she saw the two walkers, and the looming shadow of the AT-AT giving her very...very uncomfortable memories of Hoth. The lumbering giants that marched across the icy planes. Almost unstoppable as they crushed Echo Base.

She swallowed thickly thinking about the Deadman's Switch. What were they going to do against a AT-AT If they were surrounded could they call for an extraction? Would the Valkira get through the defenses, or would it just get shot down. If Max was right about the Imps not caring there was no escape. As it stood there was a very slim chance of getting out.

Though she might survive. She didn't know if she could take what she had to do.

The cab came to a stop at the foot of the the Imperial war machine. A squad of stormtroopers stopped them but, only for a moment as they presented their invitations. They were quickly waved through no one really taking a second look. Did that mean that Max's disguise work, or did the guards just not care? Turning away she walked at a stately pace to the main entrance all the while feeling the weight of the bombs like heavy heavy stones, threatening to drown her in the blood she was about to spill.

Despite the roiling feelings inside her she did her best to keep her smile, a slight demure smile appropriate for the occasion. She reached for her invitation again as she approached the black clad Death Troopers at the door. When they just waved her past she did everything she could to hide her surprise. She was expecting another check, maybe a more thorough check but, that didn't seem to be the way this party was going to go.

The reception hall was breathtaking for her. Vaulted ceilings, marble pillars, fine tablecloths with little placards resting on the center. She would be looking around with a wide eyed stare if there wasn't the three stones hidden on her person. She still didn't know if she should set them, or just hold on to them. Have no part, in the bloodshed but, not stop the others.

She was never trained for this, never expected this and doesn't know how to deal with this.

In that state she found her seat and took it. A place not all the way at the back, but, not right up front. A place in the middle where she wouldn't be noticed. At her station she could see a lot of what was going on. She could see the conversation between to men in Imperial uniforms, the drink shared between a man and a woman in the corner, and of course the Bride and Groom sitting displayed for all to see.

She wondered if the Bride was happy, of course she was, it was her wedding day. Just for a moment a fleeting moment Ianna stopped being Ianna Mcear, rebel pilot and infiltrator. Cara Hewett, a Naboo socialite just attending a event marked on her calendar. Looking bored but, also revitied by the events going on around her.

She took a sip of her water not wanting to get into the alcohol that was all around her. She'd had some malt whiskey made on her family's farm, it didn't taste good bitter and it burned and made her feel fuzzy. Though she thought feeling fuzzy might be better than dealing with the guilt and shame still churning away inside her.

Her gaze fell back on the couple chatting in the corner, they share a laugh that she could hear across the space. It brought the smile back to her face, seeing others having fun. Letting her slip back into her cover, the mask she wore even though inside she was screaming, howling at what she was letting herself do, what she was allowing to happen and that the people that needed to listen...weren't.

But, she couldn't show that...Certainly not here, and not to her squadmates.

TAG: @Bardan_Jusik @Corellian_Outrider @Rebecca_Daniels @Sarge @TheAdmiral @Sarge221 @Vehn @BobaMatt @The Real Kyp Durron

 

Combo post with @Rebecca_Daniels. Thanks, RD.

IC: Kayn "The Entertainer" Balzroth, Zara "Pipes" Yaren
"This Could Be Our Big Break"

The stormtrooper's faceplate turned toward Kayn. "Next." The soldier's tone was flat with boredom at the tedious task of checking ID's, but at the same time a little tense at having so much brass around for such a high-profile occasion. Kayn stared back vacantly, practicing the empty stare of his loser brother who was usually strung out on low-grade downer spice. The spiced-out musician-for-hire was such a cliché, he figured it was the best way to not draw attention to himself.

After a cursory scan of Kayn's ID, the troopers turned to Zara. Their voices took on a great deal more animation for the young Twi'lek than they had for Kayn. He had no doubt they were leering at her behind their helmets. With all their attention turned to Zara, Kayn took a moment to catch her eye and make a face, mocking the troopers behind their backs, hoping to encourage her. He wondered what was going on in her head. Maybe visions of an all-black A-wing, strafing with blazing laser cannons, blowing stormtroopers to chunky bits, and ripping overhead in a supersonic low-level pass, trailing a sonic boom that would leave survivors bleeding out of their ears.


It was hard to resist rolling her eyes as the troopers spent an inordinate amount of time checking their IDs, and she gave into the urge when Kayn met her bored stare. Their IDs were fine, it seemed, these Imperials were just making a show of it. Never seen an alien before? Zara wanted to taunt, but kept her expression this side of hostile until they were cleared; they didn't need any more trouble and it wasn't like she couldn't ignore some idiots in armour. The fake tattoos she'd pasted onto her headtails before landing on Naboo were a draw and distraction as well, even if she'd have rather changed her entire skintone as a disguise-- luckily the few Imperials who knew her face wouldn't be anywhere near here. But kriff, what she wouldn't do for a blaster right now, melt holes into those buckets before they knew what was coming. The bombs would have to do, even if they weren't her usual style.

Not that she had any problem with watching these Imperials burn, unlike some she was with, though she hadn't discussed it with her Devaronian companion since the meeting of conspirators. This-- their cover, their entries and apparently entirely unplanned exits-- was what gave her pause, but apparently Rebel Intelligence's covers were more solid than she'd anticipated. Getting blasted from space by the many orbiting Star Destroyers was not on her agenda for the night. As they passed the entryway, Zara ogled the blasters the black-armoured troopers carried from the corner of her eye; if she was lucky she might get her hands on one of those toys before the night was up. Maybe off a burning corpse.

"That's not the facial expression you'll be using on stage, is it?" Kayn muttered to Zara as they crossed the grand ballroom. "You look like you're more ready to assassinate than enchant."

Zara turns her head to look at him and plasters on her fakest-looking smile. "Better?"

"Sure, if by better you mean scarier. Were you frightened by a clown when you were very young, by any chance?"

"Both my parents were 'disappeared' by our uniformed friends. Close enough." She settles into something more neutral, trying to keep an eye on those around her without drawing too much attention. "Do you see anywhere good to... set up?"

Kayn was fairly certain by Zara's tone that she was asking where they should plant their bombs, but he wanted some more time to see what the situation was before he committed to any decisions. Besides, the longer the bombs were in place, the longer the Imps would have to stumble across them and ruin everything. Better to keep them hidden as long as they could, in his opinion. Let them rest where they were for now, hidden among the electronic components of his instrument and speakers.

Choosing to answer only the overt question she had asked, Kayn pointed at the stage. "Looks like we're supposed to be over there, opposite the bar. I'll set up my omnibox now. We should have at least a few minutes before the VIP's arrive, if you want to mingle. Maybe find out if it's an open bar, and if it's open for the entertainment?"

It would at least give a chance to scope out some weak points, both structural and humanoid. And perhaps an escape route, if they were lucky. "I suppose," she said, slipping into a slightly disused but heavy Twi'lek accent, "I'll go see if any of these uniforms aren't too good to buy a working girl a drink." Zara flipped one headtail around her shoulders as she turned away. "I'll meet you back at the stage."

TAG: All the party Sheep​

 

Bolo Lappie
Naboo



Bolo felt the sleeves of his formal jacket creak as he raised his arms above his head to allow the stormtrooper to scan him. He didn't get much use out of it, and it was probably in need of tailoring. Not that this event mattered all that much to Bolo personally, but he liked to give a good impression, particularly in a place this fancy, around so many stuck-up Naboo. The stormtrooper was talking loudly and slowly as if unsure if Bolo spoke Basic, and Bolo could feel his amphibious skin drying out from all the human eyes on him. Pep the blarth snuffled and growled at Bolo's feet.

"DO...YOU...NEED...TO...BRING...THE...uh...ANIMAL?" the stormtrooper whisper-shouted through his helmet's vocoder.

Bolo's eyestalks rolled. "He's my emotional support animal. I get anxious."

The stormtrooper swayed, looked at his colleagues, but no one seemed to know what to do. Chastened, the stormtrooper spoke normally. "Does he behave?"

"Housebroken and everything."

"He has to stay on a leash."

"On my honor as a Gungan."

"Move along."

Bolo lowered his arms and let out a cheerful, "Mesa thanken yousa!" He hoped the trooper didn't detect the sarcasm.

The crush of humans - and a few nonhumans here and there, he had to admit - made their way up the broad staircase. Bolo could tell the Naboo from the offworlders, not just by their garish clothing, but by the fact that the offworlders were less concerned about being near him; it was as if the Naboo worried Gungan was contagious. He allowed his eyestalks to wander the room independently, taking in the gorgeous antechamber. His heart caught as he recognized several of the suspected rebels from the Otoh Gunga. He didn't let on, of course, but this was going to be interesting.

And suddenly they were in the large dining area. Pep pulled at the leash to get at the food, but Bolo held him back. This was going to take all his wits. He pulled out his comm and signaled the Otoh Gunga.

"Hey Tarpals...I'm gonna need you to pay attention to this..."

TAG: All.

 

IC: Maxime “Max” Pallas
Villa Reception area, Naboo
Several hours earlier

Plenty of good spots to plant explosives. The guests were gulping down exotic intoxicants and most of them were gobbling down the hors d’oeuvres, too. Max smiled and said nothing, trying to warn off her squad mates with a nod. Nearly all of the food had been spiked with some of Akiva’s knockout concoction. Smaller doses, it would make them groggy, even a little drunk. By the end of the night, they’d be on the floor, passed out. At the very least, Max hoped that most of them would be too out of it to do anything when the Sheep finally acted. The Stormtroopers and the Death Troopers, well… they’d sent complimentary snack platters to the staging areas where they went for their breaks, but she couldn’t really hope that they would partake.

The Death Troopers bothered her. They were heavy combat troops, not used for security purposes like the Stormies. What were they doing here? Neither the bride nor groom had any connection to that unit, as far as she’d been able to learn. They shouldn’t be here. Walling’s crummy intel triumphs again, she thought gloomily, returning to the kitchen with an empty tray.

She looked over the trays, trying to figure out what to bring out next, still warm, just out of the oven. The droid Gourmand was in its element, moving pans and splashing on sauces at incredible speeds. The flames under the pans blazed as meats were seared and things were sautéed. Max frowned. Flames… only the very poor and the very rich cooked over open flame. The poor burned whatever they could find for fuel, and the rich used some type of gas. The steady flame, blue with heat, told Max that it was definitely gas, and if she could find the source, the storage container, it would only take a single explosive charge to blow the entire villa sky high.

She moved into the dry goods pantry. No security cams in here, she’d checked and Digger had swept it. The charges were in the poison crate and she slipped two into the inside pocket of her pants. If she could find the source of the gas…where was Digger? He could find it. She pulled out her commlink, and flagged him. “I need you here,” she said. Her datapad vibrated with its reply. She took a look.

The little droid had finished its sweep of the upper levels and was on its way back. She took a quick glance, rooms, mostly empty. The bride was holed up in one with her mother, a gaggle of handmaidens, and a makeup artist, making her final preparations for the grand entrance. There was another man, tall, blond, in an Imperial uniform…

Max sucked in her breath at the description. Shavit, shavit, shavit! I have to warn Flagg… she thought, as she grabbed a try of cold canapés and headed back upstairs…

TAG: @Bardan_Jusik, Anyone

 

IC: Ethan Malek
Villa Naboo


Ethan stood outside the kitchen in the dark corridor. His hands shivered a bit and his mind was filled with conflicting thoughts. He had excused himself at the kitchen for a moment after they had finished setting up the tables and preparing the main hall for the guests. He knew he still had some time left before the waiters would be send up there again to take care of the guests. Time he was supposed to use to find fitting locations for the six bombs he had to place and that were currently hidden in a large box allegedly containing womprat poison. For a brief moment the old man asked himself how his superiors had been so careless to place the bombs into a create with poison for an animal not even native on this world. Again he wondered if all of this was just part of a scheme to kill him and the other members of the squad. Why was he even here? If during his days in the ORSF a soldier had voiced similar concerns regarding a mission than he had, the soldier would have been removed from the mission. But here his superiors had just stared at him and gestured towards their weapons as if the threat of violence was the only way they knew to ensure loyalty amongst their soldiers. And yet they claim to be better than the empire, better than the people they want to murder in cold blood. It disgusted him what they did here, what they tried to force him to do here. Scouting the corridor Ethan saw that it was located below the dining room, with several doors left and right leading into other parts of the cellar. Carefully Ethan opened one of the door a gap wide and stared into the room. He saw a collection of gardening tools, a mowing machine and a sprinkler. The cellar seemed to be empty, only filled with tools used by the villa´s staff on occasion. These rooms could be a place to plant the bombs, the explosions from below could do some serious damage to the rooms above. Not that he had any intention of arming his explosives but it was good to at least have an idea he could present his superiors. He was running out of time, soon the chef droid would reassemble them and send them back into the dining room to serve the guests a few snacks before the actual dinner began. Slowly walking back to the kitchen door Ethan tried to collect his thoughts and calm himself down a bit but his worries kept tormenting him. Their plan had failed, whatever he, Ianna, Amber and Kayn had hoped to accomplish had failed. Whatever happened today Ethan knew it would come to bloodshed.


Returning into the kitchen he saw that the other members of the staff had gathered, Max, Akiva, Belgium the astro droid he and Amber had "recuited", and a dark haired woman Ethan didn´t know. For a brief moment he asked himself who she was, a new member of the squad? Someone Wallings had send to keep an eye on him and the others? Or just an unrelated civilian?

"OK all of you," the droid ordered them. “Circulate and make sure everyone has a chance to have something to whet their appetite before the meal begins and then come back down here. Let's go, chop chop."

"You should listen to her. Today would be a bad day to anger the Empire." The unknown young woman added.

Ethan couldn´t help but smile darkly. You have no idea how right you are with this. Thought sadly our two coworkers seem to have other plans.


TAG: @Mitth_Fisto, @Mistress_Renata , @zark, @galactic-vagabond422, @TheSilentInfluence, @Bardan_Jusik

 

Bolo Lappie
Naboo Villa

And now the waitstaff were circulating, holding trays aloft covered in colorful canapes. Bolo couldn't help but think of old holos of stereotypical clumsy Gungans trying their best to balance plates.

The room was spacious, but full all the same, and after Pep's tail had been stepped on once or twice the Gungan had stooped to pick him up and hold him. Even now the blarth was drooling on Bolo's formalwear.

The game was clearer now - some of the waitstaff were Rebels, too. So this was more than disruption, this was infiltration. Were they collecting information? Most of the people assembled here were civilians, and surely a wedding wasn't a military target. Mass violence wasn't usually the Alliance's MO. Unless Bolo was wrong, and these were Saw Gerrera's partisans? Was there someone here important enough to assassinate? Were they operating independently?

Bolo knew one thing for sure: he didn't want to die, today.

He saw a server he recognized from the surveillance footage aboard his ship. He approached her - a smallish human, brown hair, a determined air about her - and bowed slightly. He had no intention of blowing her cover, but he wanted her to know he knew. "Excuse me," he said, "is this colo clawfish?" He reached for one of the canapes, took a napkin. "If I'm right, is it locally sourced? A lot of the other food for this event came through my trading post on the outskirts of this system, but local fish...Naboo has excellent fish. Perhaps you've heard of my trading post? The Otoh Gunga? I don't suppose it's your scene...ah, this looks delicious..."

The Gungan allowed his long, adhesive tongue to pluck the tiny appetizer from his hand and snap it into his expansive snout. He was right: it was delicious. Say what you will about the Imperials, but they had expensive taste.

TAG: @Mistress_Renata

 

~OOC~ May as well break this up into parts rather than one large post.

~IC~ Captain Cassell “Skipper” Wystari
Location: Valkyria - Naboo
Not long after landing on the surface of Naboo

He just needed a moment to himself.

The lights on the console had faded off as the main systems of the Valkyria was powered down. Not a sound could be heard, he all alone in the cockpit. Droplets of water rolled down the viewport, it got there when they had passed through the cloud cover. Beyond he could see that it looked to be a lovely day outside. He took a sip of his hot cocoa as he watched one particular droplet got too large to sustain itself and roll down creating a streak trail of water.

He could hear the faint sounds from deeper within the ship of everyone getting ready. Sighing. It was going to be one of those days. It was probably best that he got a move on too. He stood up, cocoa in hand and glanced about one more time before leaving the cockpit.

He followed down the central corridor and turned off to the galley to turn in his mug. The smell of food still permeated the air as a warm hearty breakfast had been made for everyone. There were a few stragglers enjoying the last what they can. He gave a smile as he passed them by and made his way to the cabins. One of them had been converted into makeup and wardrobe, another as changing rooms, he continued on and entered his own private cabin.

It was time to finish off the 'warpaint'… though in this case, accessorise for what the role demanded. He removed a trinket box from a safe place and set it down on the dressers. He took out a gold chain with an amulet, a looping knotted design, vambraces for the arms and wrists before adding rings, two for each hand, one bore a stone of onyx. If his facial hair was longer, he would have done some 'bearding' and thread some rings with braids but alas. He looked at his reflection and shook his head, he looked like a Sultan. A king… The King of Thieves… and he managed a chuckle. Just another role in the grand scheme of things.

He left the cabin and made one final round through the ship, his home. He kept up appearances; a smile and a brave face along with brief words of encouragement to everyone along his path… from Zara, Kayn, Parvil… then Amber… Flagg, Lou, Joy, Durham… Max, Ethan, Akiva and the dust bucket, Belguim… Then Ianna, Buckson…. Then finally to Nib and Matey whom were chirping over something.

He stopped by the top of the boarding ramp and took a deep breath, then disembarked the vessel. The glare of sunlight caught his eyes and he squinted when he stepped out. Taab was outside as sentry, he couldn't see the marines, nor Harley. There was something about procuring transportation for some of the 'guests' and they were probably off doing that.

He turned around and approached the painted winged maiden, the pegasus knight on the hull. "I've always had you at my back until now…" Her angelic expression seemed more somber to him today. "I will see you again soon, my lady." He kissed his fingers and touched her ankle. "We mortals are but shadows and dust…" He turned away from the Valkyrie on the Valkyria. "…shadows and dust…"

TAG: To be continued

 

Maxime “Max” Pallas
Wedding villa, Naboo

Where in the Seven Hells is Flagg? He was in disguise to blend in as an Imperial officer, but he was blending in too well, because the whole damn place was full of pale men in Imperial uniforms and it was hard to locate him. And Max had to warn him about who Digger had seen on the upper level while the little droid tracked the source of the gas holding tank.

As Max weaved through the growing crowd, smiling blandly as people grabbed things from her tray –go on, fellas, eat up—a tall Gungan stepped in front of her. He cocked his head and smiled at her.

"Excuse me," he said, "is this colo clawfish?" He reached for one of the canapes, took a napkin. "If I'm right, is it locally sourced? A lot of the other food for this event came through my trading post on the outskirts of this system, but local fish...Naboo has excellent fish. Perhaps you've heard of my trading post? The Otoh Gunga? I don't suppose it's your scene...ah, this looks delicious..."

Max stared at the being in consternation. He’d mentioned the Otoh Gunga, the trading post… did he know who they were? Did he know what they were doing here? Was he one of the Rebel contacts here on Naboo or was it a coincidence? Her father said there was no such thing as coincidence.

The Gungan was examining the offerings while Max thought fast. He might be colluding with the Imps, planning to sell out the Sheep. There had been Stormtroopers unchallenged on that ship. On the other hand, they’d gotten Lurrell away with very little difficulty, maybe this guy was sympathetic to their cause? The Gungan scooped up a canapé into his palm and brought it into his mouth with a long and frighteningly agile tongue. Max came to a decision.

This person was a civilian, and whatever Wallings might say, killing civilians didn’t sit well with the young Corellian woman. And, as a non-human, he was considered a lesser life form, a second class citizen in the Galaxy. If Max could help him, even in some small way, she would. And if Wallings didn’t like it, tough cahoonies. She’d already tipped her father off, Wallings could deal with him. Her father was a very, very dangerous man to anger.

Max smiled at the Gungan. “The fish is local, sir, apart from the rosefish, which of course is not native to Naboo. Still, you might find some of the other, um, ingredients might not agree with you, so I wouldn’t eat too much, sir…if I were you. In fact--” She glanced around the room. The ceremony would start soon, and they were supposed to be gone by then. “In fact, if you find yourself getting warm, you might want to step outside on to the terrace. For some fresh air. You understand.” She smiled, nodded, and moved away. Flagg, where are you?

TAG: @BobaMatt, @Bardan_Jusik, Anyone

 

​

IC: WP-077
Causeway security checkpoint.

Willy Pete gave the stormtrooper next to him a knowing nudge with his elbow as the good looking young woman clenched her fists. Oh good, she knew it was coming. That somehow made it all the better. Then the young woman's green eyes seemed to be looking right through the stormtrooper, through all the stormtroopers and they felt as naked as they had intended her to feel.

"You don't want to do that. Leave me alone." she ground out through her teeth. The Troopers all stopped in their tracks as WP-077 mirrored her words back at her. "We don't want to do that, we'll leave you alone." He didn't know it but the other troopers were mouthing the same words along with him. As a unit they took a step back, allowing the woman to pass through. "Move along, we'll be closing off the causeway soon..." he said to her absent mindedly as she made her way down the causeway and a few moments later into the villa.

TAG: @Adalia-Durron

---

​

IC: Commander Flagg (NPC)
Among the lions in their den, Naboo

As Flagg continued his slow survey of the room he gave an ever so brief nod to Durham. "You're with me," he said low under his breath for his fellow rebel disguised an an Imperial. The two would be able to cover each other's six, watch each other's backs, a maneuver easy for them two pilots to slip back into even while grounded. He saw by now that Vixen had finally made her entrance to the guest hall, and entrance that didn't go unnoticed by several other guests as well. Even now a tall blonde Imperial Commander was looking her over carefully as the fat general standing next to him said something to him that Flagg couldn't over hear. Of course they weren't the only ones watching, and Flagg decided to use her late appearance as an opportunity.

With so much attention on Vixen, Flagg slipped the first of his thermal detonators out from a hidden pouch in his uniform and with one fluid motion armed it while affixing it to a pillar near the front wall with it's panoramic window view of the causeway down below. He quickly moved over and glanced to Durham who gave a slight shake of his head. He hadn't been seen and the bomb was now hidden behind an ornamental potted plant that sat next to the pillar. He doubted it would be noticed before the rest were in place and detonated. "One down three..." His foot was run over by a serving droid and Flagg looked down in frustration at the green and white painted astromech. He couldn't tell whether it was Digger or Belgium, but figured wrongly that it was the latter.

Taking a drink from the droid's serving tray he motioned it away, figuring the droid simply thought holding a drink while circulating would make for a better disguise, but it didn't leave. "You better take one too," he said quietly to Durham, though it became clear as the other rebel took a drink of his own that the droid was here for another reason. Looking around Flagg disposed of the drink in his hand into the potted plant next to him, before reaching for another. "OK, what is it?" he hissed out under his breath at the droid.

TAG: Mistress_Renata (for Digger) @Sarge221

---

IC: General Burgerholter (NPC)
Imperial Wedding Reception, Naboo

​

The General was quite pleased. He hadn't expected the reception to go off quite as well as all this, not being held here on Naboo with that buffoon they called a garrison commandant in charge of things. So far though things were quite lovely. The wedding ceremony itself had gone off without a hitch, and now with the festivities over with the true fun could begin. Already his mouth was watering at the smells coming from the trays being carried about the room by the smallish wait staff. You would have that more would have been hired for such an event, but of course that was not the case. Well, if that was the only thing Klinker screwed up, they should count themselves lucky he through as he grabbed a delicate delight off a tray being carried about by a four armed being of some kind before taking a bite.

"Oh this is wonderful, you should try..." he began to say to the tall blonde commander standing near him when he saw that the Commander seemed far more interested in another delight which had just entered the room. A young red haired beauty had decided to arrive somewhat late. No doubt it would anger the bride to be upstaged so, but no matter. "So..." he looked at the Commander finally remembering his name. "Hollymander, yes I see you have other things on your mind tonight." He smirked. "Not that i blame you, she is quite lovely, though perhaps a little young for me." He shrugged, his own wife was here somewhere, not that such a thing should matter of course. Hollymander though was still looking at the young lady, almost as if...

"Do you know her Hollymander?" He licked his lips with a loud smacking sound. "If so I would like to be introduced."

TAG: @The Real Kyp Durron

---

IC: Commandant Klinker (NPC)
Imperial Wedding Reception, Naboo

​

"Splendid, oh splendid," the Imperial Commandant of Naboo said aloud, mostly (entirely really, as usual no one was really listening to him anyway) to himself. Oh this party is indeed going quite well, and so soon after the wedding itself had gone perfectly. he could only attribute it to his meticulous security planning, though the raid on the supply convoy had nearly set things awry. Fortunatley he was a genius, truly a genius, and he had managed to find alternate supplies in order to satisfy the guests that had come to Naboo, what he considered "his" world.

Klinker was the Commandant of all Imperial forces in the Naboo system, no small job. This was after all the Emperor's homeworld, and as such a prestigious assignment. Klinker had done well here, just recently his local garrison had also wiped out the meager local resistance cell, though they had never amounted to much anyway. The people here loved him after all, loved the Empire. Though he was ready as always to play the part of the iron hand in the velvet glove as he liked to say. The crushed resistance cell could speak to that.

He rubbed his hands together with glee. If things continued to go well here it might mean promotion to the General Staff, and a position on Coruscant. That would bring him to the true seat of power in the Galaxy, and of course a step further away from the battlefront. He had fought in the Clone wars, as a loyal Naval officer of the Republic, he'd seen his fill of battle and he far desired the comforts of a nice warm planet side office where the threat of explosive decompression into the cold vacuum of space was rather non existent. Yes, he was happy with his place here on Naboo, but he still ascribed towards greater things. Someday perhaps, even a moffship of his very own. Showing the Imperial elite how well things were running on Naboo could make that ambition a reality.

Circulating around the room, ensuring everyone was happy was no small matter. That meant ensuring the entertainment for tonight was as equally as stupendous as everything else this evening. Already the beings his staff had hired for that job were busy setting up on the stage. It was supposed to be two slaves and a...slug of some kind. Klinker had been led to believe that it was a Hutt, but this creature looked nothing like a Hutt, though it was still rather hideous. He hoped his staff hadn't made a mistake. Even now, he saw just the one slave, a Devaronian setting up on the tage while the other was no where to be...

Oh there she was, the twi'lek woman at the bar being approached by another uniformed officer, a combat veteran by the looks of his uniform. Well combat did bring with it certain perks, though Klinker was no longer the kind to want to chase after those. Instead he approached the Devaronian and his master at the stage. "Wonderful, wonderful," he clapped his hands together once loudly and began to rub them together again. "Don't you think this is just going perfectly?" He asked them both, clearly expecting an affirmative response. "Love is in the air, everyone is happy." He looked suddenly concerned as he leaned in forward towards them. "You do have eh, appropriate entertainment here for a wedding reception do you not?"

TAG: @Sarge @GenOochy

---

Major Kilroy (NPC)
Imperial Wedding Reception, Naboo

​

The Imperial Army Major sighed heavily as he looked to the empty glass he held in his hand. "Another dead soldier," he said, slamming the empty glass onto the bar upside down and looking to the bartender. "Bring me another." The bartender moved to happily oblige. This was an open bar, which meant it was all being paid for by...well whoever was paying for this shin dig, but it meant good tips, especially the drunker the attendees became.

Another drink, a corellian whiskey, was placed before the Major who sighed loudly to himself before picking it up. He had been a late invitee to this wedding, a reward beyond his medals and his recent promotion for his actions on Hoth. He and his fellow AT-AT commanders had literally crushed the rebellion underfoot on that frozen world, but at what cost? Half the troopers that his walker had carried had been cut down during the battle, and several of his comrades, other AT-AT commanders, had been killed along with their crews when the rebel speeders had tripped them up with simple tow cables.

Tow cables? Who would have heard of such a simple thing bringing down the nearly invincible walking behemoths? But bring them down they did. Kilroy had been lucky to avoid such a fate himself, his crew had managed to down the two speeders that had attempted the maneuver on them. And so it was that they had all been rewarded, Kilroy more than the others as was fitting, he had after all commanded the walker. That was how he came to be here, away from his comrades, and alone, to drink with nothing but the memory of dead friends and comrades.

A woman approached the bar, a good looking twi'lek. Some trooper she knew were specist, it certainly wasn't discouraged in the Imperial Army, but Kilroy was not among them. Maybe, just maybe he could salvage something of this night after all then. He llifted his drink in his right hand, looking to her as he called out down the bar even as other guests, Officers and civilian alike, began to fill up the spots near the bar. "Buy you a drink?"

TAG: @Rebecca_Daniels

---

IC: The Countess (NPC)
Imperial Wedding Reception, Naboo

​

While others less judgmental than her self seemed to be having a good time, the Countess herself was less than impressed by the reception as layed out for the Imperial guests her at the villa. Oh the service itself, held in the government quarter, had been nice enough, but this...reception was so...oh what was the word? Provincial. She had thought the Emperor's homeworld would be more glamorous, but it hardly seemed more than another mid rim backwater. They might as well be on Kashyyyk for all it mattered to her. They both mudholes over run by aliens. She shuddered as she absent mindedly took a proffered morsel from a passing tray before nearly spitting it out before it even reached her lips. The tray had been carried by an alien, a four armed being that needed to bathe far more often that it did, if it did, so her rather discerning sense of smell told her. She placed the uneaten (but somewhat squished) morsel back onto the tray before the creature could get out of arms length.

"Excuse me," she said loudly, the irritation clear in her voice as she raised her hands and clapped them twice together to get the attention of the maître d. "Do you even know who I am?" She started at the young woman, far too young and pretty to be holding such a position on staff, the Countess was sure she knew how this woman had manged to get this job. "I almost ate something that had been nearly touched by alien hands." The look of disgust was evident on her face. "Under no circumstances are any alien prepared meals to be served to table 19, do you understand?" She didn't even wait to see if the girl did or not, she had better if she knew what was good for her. "And keep that thing," she pointed to the four armed alien waitress, "away from me and my table as well."

TAG: @TheSilentInfluence @Mitth_Fisto

---

IC: Major King (NPC)
Imperial Wedding Reception, Naboo

​

The Major was enjoying his time away from school, the stuffiness of Coruscant and the incessant needs of the service that seemed to take so much of his time away from the outdoors. Yes, he was inside now, but on a world that was earthy and hearty, not some overdone cityscape that stretched across a world, but green farms, broad forests and seemingly endless bodies of water. Naboo was a paradise to a man such as the Major was, he had felt it from the first moment the crisp cool air of the planet had greeted him.

He had not been surprised when this invitation had come to him. Despite his low rank he came from one of the more prestigious military families in the Old Republioc and now the Empire and as such accustomed to such luxuries. He had put that name, and his own skillcraft, to good use heading now one of the more prestigious academies on Coruscant, yet another reason for his being here. he hoped it would not all be politics and gossip at the party though, and that he would have time for a good hunt tomorrow. A world such as this had to have some sporting hunts after all.

He took his drink from the bar and began to circulate around the room, observing his environment as he had always been trained, (and trained others) to do. Old habits died hard, he smiled to himself as he brought the brandy to his lips and took a small sip. The room was filled with dignitaries, military and civilian alike, and the bride and groom seemed at least somewhat happy with the arrangement their parents had put together for them. Off towards the stage Klinker was dealing with the entertainment while elsewhere everyone was going about their business, ignoring the storm and death troopers that stood guard just outside. It seemed at least they wouldn't spoil the party by entering the guest hall, though it was good to know that such help was on standby so nearby. If the Rebellion knew what was going on here, well they might try something. He took another sip of his brandy. Yes, it was difficult to turn it off at times he thought to himself as he imagined how he would orchestrate things with some of the troopers from his school. Perhaps it would make for a good exercise when he returned, though perhaps not. He pursed his lips. Such an project might not be seen for the training assignment that it would be and instead as a political statement. Better then to keep these thoughts to himself.

He drew in a deep breath and was greeted by an earthy scent, the scent of an animal. Who would bring...he scanned the room, aware now that the wait staff seemed to be rather inefficient at their assigned jobs, and saw the creature, being held by it's master, a Gungan, who was also speaking with one of the staff. Had the Gungan too seen their amateurish ways? Perhaps. Perhaps not, though King wasn't surprised that a moon like Klinker had brought in people with no clue as to what they were doing. He shrugged as he took one more sip before approaching the Gungan.

"Major King," he introduced himself, ignoring the waitress whose status was beneath him. "I must say I am fascinated by your animal, is it a hunting beast?" His curiosity was genuine, though he thought perhaps he had better explain himself. "Excuse me, I am a hunter at heart." He smiled taking another sip from his glass. "Not anything like the riff raff bounty hunter you hear mentioned in a holodrama, I hunt game animals, and as a marksman the greatest game animal of all of course. Rebels." He inclined his head somewhat. "More of a gentleman marksman, though fieldcraft is my profession." He explained further. "I am head of the Sniper School at the Scouttrooper Academy back on Coruscant, and I was wondering what sort of hunting I might find here on your world before I leave the day after tomorrow."

TAG: @BobaMatt @Mistress_Renata

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IC: He's forgotten who he is and where he is... (NPC)
Imperial Wedding Reception, Naboo

​

He was drunk, that much the man knew, and having a great time. He didn't know who he was or where he...oh wait, that's right. His second cousin's wedding, he was reminded as he caught her disapproving glare from across the room as he finished off what his his twelveteenth drink of the evening already. He'd had an early start, the hoverlimo on the way over had been well stocked, and of course his first order of business upon entering the villa had been to find the bar. Now though he would need another, and that meant going back up to the bar. He turned himself around, probably should have just stayed there to begin with he was surprised at his coherent thought even as he backtracked towards it.

It was then that something remarkable happened, or rather he saw something remarkable. It was a white and green astrodroid, that was odd enough for a wedding, but this one had been fitted with a tray balanced on it's shoulders, and on that tray were glasses. Glasses full of alcohol. The man, he still couldn't remember his name, stumbled after the droid, reaching into his pocket as he did so, before finally catching up to the slowly rolling wonder. Now this, this was the greatest idea ever conceived. Even better than a Death Star, oh a Death Star, that would make a great name for a drink. "Beep, beep," he said as he pointed with both hands to the small droid and then grabbed off a glass from it's tray in each hand. "I'd tip, but well...my hands are full." He laughed, what would a droid do with credits anyway? He thought of his full wallet in his jacket pocket as his boisterous laughter earned another nasty look from the bride, his cousin. If he wasn't careful those mean looking troopers at the door might escort him out.

TAG: @zark

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IC: Mistress Goldigger (NPC)
Imperial Wedding Reception, Naboo

​

She sat there alone, drumming her fingers on her table. Already she had fended off the advances of several Imperial officers, two men and a woman, whose ranks had not met her high standards. She was here to earn a ticket off world, and that meant leaving with someone of means, someone who could take care of her and her extravagant tastes. Goldigger was young, good looking, a staple of the established elite on Naboo, but she wanted off world. She wanted to spread her wings and fly among the truly wealthy of the Galaxy. Cato Bight perhaps, and someday 500 Republica on Coruscant. This reception was her ticket to her dreams, if she could latch on to the right man (or woman, she wasn't picky) but that certainly wasn't going to happen dancing with Imperial fighter pilots, commander and lieutenants or not. No her eye was on bigger game, and larger prizes.

There were generals of course, and even moffs here. Many of them were married, and here with their wives, but that mattered little. Being consort to such a high ranking man would have it's privileges, but it's pratfalls as well. Though convinced of her own abilities to keep a man or woman, even in the face of direct competition, it seemed like too much effort and perhaps for not enough gain. No, what she really needed was a man or woman of means, considerable means, that she could convince to take her away, and keep her by his or her side for the near future. Luckily for her, just such a man had just walked by her table, with a perfectly suitable Zeltron in tow.

She focused on the Zeltron, who of course exuded sexuality in a way few others could match. That the man had such an attendant told Goldigger that he was amenable to the arrangement that she had in mind, she just needed him to ditch the competition. Hopefully it would be as easy as persuading him with something shiny and new, though that might not be a good thing if he were too easily distracted. that could mean he would drop Goldigger too at a moments notice when something shinier came around. Well, he seemed to the best candidate here, so best to find out.

Standing from her table she noted the eyes of the other men in the room upon her as she sauntered up to the wealthy man, swaying her hips suggestively as she did so. "Hello," she reached out and touched him on his shoulder, her eyes meeting his. "Would you care to dance?"

TAG: @Corellian_Outrider

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IC: Hock Callion (NPC)
Imperial Wedding Reception, Naboo

​

"...Oh yes shocked, but still," the ice mining magnate of Titan IV replied to the Imperial officers he was speaking with as the waiter neared them. "I think your forces would have done better had they come to me for help before attacking on Hoth." He laughed a haughty laugh. "My company is something an expert on icey conditions and I think our victory could have been even greater there had Lord Vader thought to do so..." He took an hors d'oeuvre from the tray as the waiter passed by.

"No doubt he and his stromtroopers are efficient in any conditions, but I am led to believe that some of the rebel leadership escaped his grasp. If his forces had been properly outfitted, perhaps that would not be the case." He shrugged in a show of false modesty. The officers there laughed with him, but looked slightly uncomfortable. If Vader were here he wouldn't take kindly to this sort of talk. "I mean no disrespect for him of course, he is the Emperor's right hand man, and I fully support the Emperor's efforts to crush the rebellion," the other officers standing with him took their own hors d'oeuvre from the same tray. "They are bad for business, and frankly the sooner the riff raff are disposed of," he eyed the Gungan across the room, "the better."


TAG: @Anedon

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IC: Heroes of the 357th (NPCs)
Imperial Wedding Reception, Naboo

​

The three pilots and their lady friend crashed down into their seats at the table assigned to them, eyeing the pair of civilians also already seated there. Kai of course was happy, he'd already found a willing date to bring to the reception, while Ziegler, also happy, was still looking for a date of his own. He looked the woman seated across from him, taking note of her date, while thinking to himself he at least had a chance there. The uniform did wonders with the ladies, especially after she was regaled with tales of their adventures. Werner of course was less than happy, and it seemed like nothing could bring him out of his recently found funk.

"Enjoy life Werner!" Ziegler now cried out. "Eat drink, be merry," he wiggled his eyebrows at the young lady across from him. "For tomorrow we all may die!" That seemed to push their friend even further off the edge however. "Yes, I know all about death Ziegler, my wingman died out there during that raid. Blown out fo the sky by a relic, a kriffing Y-Wing..." He shook his head angrily as he slammed his drink down onto the table, spilling amber colored liquid onto the table.

"I'm sorry, you'll have to excuse our friend here," the young woman with Kai spoke up apologizing to the other two civilians. "Our boys here just had a rough go of it, defending a supply convoy just outside the system a short while ago." Kai smiled at her, rubbing her shoulders as Ziegler explained. "We're TIE fighter pilots, not long out of training, and it was our first battle." He smiled at the woman again, ignoring her still silent date. "I was credited with two kills myself, and Kai there got three." Kai shrugged modestly, making lovey eyes with his own date. It was clear the woman who had yet to give her name had merely been attracted to the most accomplished pilot. "It was a near thing, we had just come out of lightspeed here near the system when they attacked, a whole gaggle of Rebel raiders in a bunch of different kinds of craft."

"A-Wings." said Kai, still rubbing his date's shoulders.

"B-Wings."

"X-Wings."

"Y-Wings." Werner angrily spat out.

"They even had a freighter there with them." Kai continued before Ziegler took over. "But we ran them off..."

"They did, it was wonderful," the woman spoke again. "I was there, aboard a ferryboat liner in the convoy and watched it all from my cabin window." She was beaming with pride. "So brave my fighter pilots, going out there without shields, without hyperdrive and protecting us from those, those..." she seemed at a loss for words before settling on one. "Terrorists." She looked at her new man again. "So brave."

TAG: @galactic-vagabond422 @MasterFlowda

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IC: Baron Ric Vonoften/Lieutenant Commander Arnim Zola (NPCs)
Imperial Wedding Reception, Naboo

​

Baron Commander Ric Vonoften commanding officer of the elite 282nd Fighter Squadron, the dreaded Skulls, stood and watched the revelry unfold around him with a satisfied look on his face. All of this was possible he explained to the good looking woman beside him because of his "leadership and the efforts of my squadron. I of course had already been been asked to attend, but zer efforts saw them invited now as well!" The woman seemed taken in by his matter of fact nature, the power he wielded and the confidence in his voice and so too did several other's nearby, including two other Imperial officers. That came as no surprise to the Baron whose callsign was the Red Skull, his personality and the leadership he displayed often had that effect on others.

"Oh yes," he continued on speaking to the woman, and the others who began congregating nearby. "It vas a last ditch effort of the Rebellion to be sure, a conglomeration of ill fitting craft with no discernible goal other than to disrupt, but still zey fought with some skill." He raised his chin proudly. "Though it could hardly match the skill of our own. Still, if not for ze appearance of my squadron, the entire convoy might have been lost." He shrugged, "As it heppens, only cargo containers containing foodstuffs and some machine parts were hijacked by zem before ve ran zem off!" He laughed, a short bark that denoted no real sense of humor. "Pathetic really, if zer top priority vas food to feed themselves, how much of a threat could ze really be eh?" He clapped a hand on the shoulder of his Squadron Operation officer.

​

"As I am sure Zola here can tell you, zis resistance of theirs vill be over by Empire Day..."

The short, somewhat rotund, man the Baron indicated said nothing as he staggered slightly under the force of the hand thumped against him. "Ah, you vill have to excuse the Commander, his implant you see," the Baron pointed to the device wrapped around the rear portion of Zola's head as he rolled his eyes. "Zola, zis is a party, enjoy yourself, you're not plugged into anyzing anyway right now." He pointed at a few other officers already clearly enjoying themselves out on the dance floor or with drinks in their hand as they circulated. "Have some fun, the rest of the squadron is..."

TAG: @TheAdmiral @Vehn

OOC: For you both, feel free to introduce your own "counterparts" into the game as you see fit and at your leisure (doesn't have to be now, but it can be if you like)

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​

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IC: Beskaryc Taab
OP Charlie Foxtrot, overlooking the villa, Naboo

After Tehanis had somehow talked her way past the security checkpoint Taab found himself relaxing for a moment. Everyone that needed to be in had gotten in, leaving Taab without much to do until the order came. Waiting was something Taab and the marines were rather accustomed to though, so they weren't bothered by it. A low mechanical groan echoed out across the lake soon after Tehanis made her way inside the villa. Taab was about to sit back and rest his eyes for a moment, but was curious as to what the noise was when he realized it was the sound of the AT-AT walker settling down lower. The stormies were going to block the causeway with it now that the guests had arrived. Well that would be a problem for the Black Sheep leaving once the bombs were in place, maybe they would have to wait to detonate until after the roadblock had been moved. Taab had no way of communicating that to them though, they were under strict radio silence until the job was done. They were probably going to have to find an alternate route off the island then, or find a way to move the hulking blockage from their path. Taab began looking for another route for them when another speeder approached the causeway and caught his attention. It was a late arriving guest.

Taab watched with curiosity as a quartet of stormtroopers approached the female who exited the speeder which then moved off at a high rate of speed, apparently happy to deposit her. The stormtroopers waved their hands at her, gesturing to the AT-AT which was down on it's "knees" now. It wasn't hard to decipher the message they were sending her, the party was closed, she was too late. That didn't meet with the young woman's approval though and she scowled at them, showing her invitation. It was then that Taab noted two things about the young woman, both which he found rather disturbing.

The first, like Tehanis, she was a young red haired woman, though if he were forced to make a choice he would say this woman was even more attractive. It was unusual then that she wasn't being handled in the same way the troopers had tried to deal with his squadron mate. Maybe that had something to do with the second disconcerting thing he noticed about her. He recognized this woman, he didn't know her name, though that shouldn't be surprising, Taab was generally terrible with names. But he was good with faces, especially those that had tried to kill him in the past.

It had been several years ago, he and Atin had taken on a job working with a mercenary crew that had run afoul of the Empire. Through a remarkable confluence of events he had ended up alone in the jungle on some manda forsaken world with this woman trying to kill him, and she had damn near succeeded. She had strength and skill that far belied her size and age, and it was only his own skill and experience as a Jedi hunter that had allowed him to get away with his life. After a daring one on one battle, he'd managed to force her off of a sheer cliff face, and though he'd left her there alone in the jungle, as a matter of resepct, he'd left her weapon behind for her. Her lightsaber.

She was an Emperor's Hand and, from her place down on the causeway, she was looking right at him.

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IC: The Emperor's Hand (NPC)
Arriving at the Redd Wedding

The Emperor's Hand was annoyed, annoyed at having arrived late to the reception, and annoyed further at the delay caused by the stormtroopers who wanted to deny her access to the villa. She could have pulled rank, told them who she was and that she was here as the Emperor's presence, but that would have been beneath her and her station. Likewise she could have simply killed them all where they stood and faced no consequences, but that was not an option. They might have been lecherous, lazy and stupid, but they reminded her of a time with more professional troopers, what she had once called her Hand of Judgement. So instead she stayed within character, scowling at them as she nudged their minds in the right direction before they finally let her pass. Walking under the legs of the now kneeling AT-AT, she casually wiped the minds of the weak willed troopers of any memory of having seen her. Her mission here was somewhat more than just serving as the personal representative of the Emperor, and her late arrival might cause questions later in the Imperial court. Questions the Emperor would certainly rather avoid.

She walked down the causeway, her mauve gown flowing around her as the wind picked up and swirled her red hair. There was something familiar about all of this now, someone familiar. She paused halfway to the villa and looked off towards the hills on the opposite shore from the island. He was there, the familiar presence she felt. A man, no, more than that, a Mandalorian. She recognized the cool resolve, and that told her all she needed to know. She had met this one in battle once, he'd fought well, delaying her long enough in her own goal. She hadn't sensed in him any hatred for the Empire back then, just the sheer resolve of a professional warrior going about his business. Now though there was a a tinge of fear, and an even greater hint of anger to the man. It seemed his business and hers were once again entwined. This Mandalorian had been the instrument of a previous failure, a failure her Master had made her pay dearly for. This time would be different, the thought brought a smile to her face even as she stared off into the distance where his presence could be felt. This time there would be no denying the Emperor's will. Mara Jade, the Emperor's Hand, would make sure of that.

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IC: Beskaryc Taab
OP Charlie Foxtrot, overlooking the villa, Naboo

With a look of horror on his face Taab watched as the Emperor's Hand made her way down the remainder of the causeway and entered the villa, a smirk on her pale face. The Black Sheep were in trouble, more trouble than they could possibly know, and he had no way of warning them about it.

TAG: No One...yet. Mara Jade will not have entered the Guest hall until my next update, so no one need yet deal with her.

OOC: The Rundown on everyone's assignment so we're all on the same page For everyone, feel free to start planting explosives around the villa as you are able. Please no more than one (maybe two) per post per character. For those controlling more than one character (Vagabond you'll be controlling Panno as Mcear's date for now) or an NPC feel free to place for them as well at the same rate. Everyone feel free to populate the reception with your own minor NPCs as needed as well to further enrich the game. Only rules regarding that is no children and any civilians have to be despicable in their own right. Any questions feel free to PM me or ask in the X-Wing fanclub.

Major credit where it is due of course as I received inspiration from many sources in this update, including (but not limited to) Hogan's Heros and the similarly named Kelly's Heroes.

• Major Beskaryc Taab and the marine detail: Concealed outside as backup and operate the detonator for the bombs

• Commander Flagg: Wearing an Imperial officer's uniform now carrying 3 bombs. (1 placed)
• Sergeant Jocelyn Sunwalker: Wearing and Imperial officer's uniform and carrying 4 bombs
• Lieutenant Louise Gray: wearing an Imperial officer's uniform and carrying 4 Bombs
• Flight Officer Kardon Durham: Wearing an Imperial officer's uniform and carrying 4 bombs

• CWO Enzo Parvil: Disguised as the owner of the "entertainment" and carrying 2 bombs
• Flight Officer Zara Yaren: Disguised as a entertainment while carrying 2 bombs
• Lieutenant Kayn Balzroth: Disgusied as a entertainment carrying 2 bombs

• Flight Officer Maxime Pallas: Disguised as a waiter assigned 6 bombs currently located in the crate marked womprat poison in the Kitchen pantry. Now carrying two of those bombs.
• Sergeant Ethan Malek: Disguised as a waiter assigned 6 bombs currently located in the crate marked womprat poison in the Kitchen pantry
• Flight Officer Akiva Lurell: disguised as server assigned 6 bombs currently located in the crate marked womprat poison in the Kitchen pantry
• Belgium: Assigned as a mobile drink tray, carrying six bombs in his innards

• Flight Officer Amber Tehanis: disguised as a guest carrying 3 bombs
• Flight Officer Ianna Mcear: Disguised as a guest, carrying 3 bombs
• Flight Officer Buckson Panno: disguised as a local citizen and acting as Mcear's date 3 bombs
• Lieutenant Cassell Wystari: disguised as a wealthy citizen, 3 bombs
• Flight Officer Quin: disguised as Wystari's date and carrying 3 bombs

• Flight Officer Nib Nombuun: Guard the ship, and bring it in for Black Sheep retrieval once the bombs have gone off.

• Bolo Lappie: Attending the Reception as a guest. Not yet a member of the Black Sheep, no assignment
• Commander Mackenzie Hollymender: Assignment CLASSIFIED
• Eliana Saeli: Assignment CLASSIFIED

 

IC: Kayn "Life of the Party" Balzroth
Let's Get This Shindig Rolling

"You do have eh, appropriate entertainment here for a wedding reception do you not?"

Kayn immediately pegged the officer in the ostentatious uniform as a blithering idiot. He smiled politely, doing his best not to let his innate cynical superiority to the human show through.

"Of course, sir, of course, we are a remarkably versatile little act. We can do fast dances, slow dances, love songs, torch songs, novelty acts, you name it, we'll do it. Shall I lead off with a fun dance number, sir? We can start the singing as soon as our singer gets back from..." He spotted Zara, obviously trolling for free drinks at the bar. "...medicating her throat."

He stroked the omnibox, making a mellow chord, just enough to announce the music was about to begin, but not drowning out any conversations.

"Here's an old favorite that makes everyone want to get up and dance."

Everyone who thought this was fashionable four decades ago, that is. You'll love it, old man, won't you? Or you'll hate it, which would be even better.



TAG: All the dancing fools

 

IC: Eliana Saeli
Imperial Wedding Reception, Naboo

Eliana halted mid stride and put on a stern look as she was interrupted. Of course the Countess would find fault. She had heard enough about that from other guests. "Of course Countess." And then, "I wasn't aware of your distaste, might I suggest a pair of fine gloves?" Eliana didn't hide the fact that she was annoyed. "In fact, why don't you allow me to educate you on why we have such beings at our service." Eliana took a deep breath. "You see, the Emperor; long may he reign, has put forth that all alien beings in service to the Empire must serve humans. And first and foremost, the citizens of his Empire without hesitation. That is what she was doing." Eliana jerked her head toward @Mitth_Fisto .

"She happens to be a Codru-Ji, a very rare kind of alien." Eliana pointed out. "I'm sure she didn't appreciate your remarks, and it's bad manners countess; to insult those who handle your food." Eliana didn't allow the Countess to speak however, before she added, "My father happens to be a very important Imperial Official, who happened to be good friends with Grand Admiral Thrawn. He was an alien, and a very good Admiral. I believe he hardly ever lost a battle. Perhaps I should contact my father. I'm sure he would be interested to hear of your behaviour Countess." Eliana gave a a her a serious look, cold and calculating. "Now unless you actually have something more important to request of me, I suggest you enjoy the party."

And with that Eliana turned on her heel and walked away.

@Bardan_Jusik @Mitth_Fisto