Star Wars OPEN The Kingdom

OOG: Mission briefing below. The hologram projection is being paired to both the Lambda-class Shuttles & TIE Fighters and bridge (all via hologram projections). So pay attention Imperials!

@Mitth_Fisto , @galactic-vagabond422 , @TheSilentInfluence , @TheAdmiral , @Darth_Elu , @Sinrebirth , @Silvertough , @Vehn , @Kalio_Dynkos


This post will have a TAG EVERYONE at the bottom of it (kitchen staff excluded). Please read the whole post, so you know where everyone is at.


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IC: Master Sergeant Craig Anthony Stewart (DW-418121; "Animal")
Forward Auxiliary Hanger, Darkest Night, high orbit over Bakura



Animal followed the LT aboard the Lambda-class T-4a Shuttle and sat next to her as the two found 2 of the last 4 seats available near the entrance to the shuttle bay.

After the pair was strapped in, Animal looked over to Elena, "You're overthinking it. All you're there to do is be the official officer to sign off on delivery of the cargo. You'll probably be meeting with the local mayor of the capital city. Or maybe just a communications director for the mayor's office even. I doubt something like this will grab any more attention then that. And if it does," Animal smiled under his helmet, "Just smile for the camera. Best way to ignore answering hard questions," Animal shrugged, turning his attention to the trio of droids coming up the ladder, "That's what I'd do at least."

Of the 3 droids, two were KX-series Security Droids who took up the last two free seats across from Elena & Animal. The last was a M-3PO Military Protocol Droid. It was hard to know what these droids did, as their primary purpose was copied and largely overshadowed by the more familiar RA-7 Protocol Droid. Call it Arakyd Industries having a leg up on Cybot Galactica for Imperial contracts. Most of the time Animal saw these droids, they were favored by local Imperial commanders over the RA-7 Protocol Droid (which wasn't hard to see why) for the role both droids did or, as in this case, the droids had been modified to essentially act as unit admin officers for mission briefings and tactical consultants to organic unit commanders.

"Attention Imperials," the M-3PO droid said, scanning the shuttle's bay for everyone's attention before setting down a briefcase-looking device that---with a push of a button and a simple PIN code access---unfolded itself into a portable hologram projector onto the deck flooring of the shuttle. A moment later, a sound could be heard of the inner-technology warming up, then the projector came to life (the hologram was paired to be broadcast with the TIE Pilots & bridge crew as well), displaying a colored globe of Bakura with a blue dotted line going back to the star destroyer seen orbiting at the edge of the picture. Two lanes of space traffic could be seen leaving and entering high orbit of the planet and the star destroyer in the V area of those two traffic lanes, which seemed to be gaining and losing various types of starships on a somewhat frequent basis. A red dotted line went from the star destroyer and around (over the right entry lane of space traffic) and then turned into a straight red line to roughly the last 1/3 of the medium orbit range.

"You are deploying from the Darkest Night at 22,236 miles away from Bakura in high orbit---see the blue dotted line. At maximum speed for a TIE Fighter, that would put your arrival at the planet in 18.53 hours and your fuel stores would be exhausted before arrival. Unacceptable and tactically unsound," the droid pointed to 3 Imperial Gozanti-class Cruisers that approached the star destroyer in live stream from the left (port) edge of the map, "The War Cry, War Camp, and War Drum of the 217th Naval Battle Group. Newly upgraded Gozanti-class with an additional ventral twin laser cannon, specifically made for Outer Rim commands, and all three weapon emplacements standardized to twin laser cannon turrets. While able to carry 4 TIE Fighters externally on hooks, these Gozanti are awaiting their TIE forces. In the meantime, Bad Love Squadron will be utilizing them as carriers.

"The Gozanti and Lambda-class shuttles will do a highly calculated Microjump---see the dotted and solid red lines. The Bakura Senate is allowing us to utilize smaller warships to fly closer to the planet and away from the main space lane traffic. We understand this is to avoid upsetting the civilian populace, who most have never seen a star destroyer before. It should be noted that Bakura is a neutral planet, but they have hopes of joining the Empire. As such, you are to conduct this mission by the book and---as the Imperial Diplomatic Corps has requested---show your best side," the droid paused for a long moment, adding, "Whatever that means to organics."

A moment later, the droid went on, this time showing the launch of TIE Fighters from the light cruisers to and the TIEs and Lambdas going planet-side to the outskirts of Salis D'aar and an abandoned starport. The holo then zoomed in on the live view of the 3 Eta-class Supply Barges stationary on the live-view open flat landing pad with 6 hangers to one side and four airstrips to the other-side running vertical to their positioning on a flat plane map. Several admin buildings, a control tower, and two flight terminals (back-to-back facing opposite directions) were in the foreground, while the background was an open field with a ransacked sensor dish building and associated smaller dishes and antennas. The live view of the starport showed a place ran down, windows broken, roofs caved in, buildings crumbling in areas, and the grass badly overgrown in the open field. The four airstrips were cracked, paint fainted, and even had a massive sinkhole in the furthest of them. A 15 meter high security fence topped with razor wire surrounded the whole starport, with a main entrance and exit gate with a single guardhouse for traffic (the main road lead far away back towards the capital city looming a good distance in the background). Around the immediate flat landing pad area was another, more military-looking and modern-looking fence-field with a energized laser gate. Inside that fence & gate were the 3 supply barges and several rigid military tents for personnel. Two Imperial Navy Commandos stood sentry at the energized gate on either side with five local Bakura security force troops, while another navy commando was on the inside of the gate (to the side) standing sentry and six other navy commandos were patrolling in pairs around the landing pad outside the energy fence. Twenty more local Bakura security force troops were patrolling within and around the ruins of the starport at large, with an additional 6 more navy commandos as well doing the same in pairs. At the main entry/exit gate were 5 local Bakura security force troopers and 3 navy commandos; up in the control tower were four Scout Troopers equipped with DLT-19x targeting blasters covering all four directions out from where the control tower scanned over and four Scout Troopers with white painted Model TD2.3 Electrobinoculars (making 4 "sniper teams" of two Scout Troopers each, a gunner and a spotter). A single Imperial Officer (with combat armor) of Captain rank was in the control tower overseeing the whole operation, as well as two Bakura security force officers.

Patrolling the grounds of the starport were two All Terrain Defense Pods, with a single All Terrain Scout Transport standing sentry near the hangers and looking out over the entire starport (with one of its AT-ST Drivers out of the open hatch on-top with a pair of TD2.3 Electrobinoculars scanning the area). Four K79-S80 Imperial Troop Transports (3 for the Imperial troops, 1 for the rigid Imperial tents and other equipment) was just inside one of the more stable hangers, their Imperial crewmembers standing by their vehicles but otherwise ready for the call to action.

Together, the 4 K79-S80s, 2 AT-PDs, single AT-ST, 18 Imperial Navy Commandos, 8 Scout Troopers, and 1 Imperial officer (27 troops plus 12 Imperial Combat Drivers & 2 AT-ST Drivers, making 41 Imperial personnel total) was the advanced security detachment put in charge of guarding the Imperial cargo. With the addition of 32 local security forces, the combined force of 73 personnel and 7 armored vehicles had a large starport to cover, but did so to provide the necessary security without alarming the local populace too much. The whole security force had been ferried in originally by the Gozanti-class cruisers (War Cry, War Camp, and War Drum) and it would seem they would be needing a new way home, as the three cruisers would soon be detached to the Unknown Regions with the Darkest Night.

The holo map kept slowly circling the starport, showcasing points of interest for combat tactics and every now-and-then zooming out to show a larger view of the greater area before zooming back-in.

"As you can tell by the holo," the droid went on, "Security is light considering the scope of the starport. But adequate to the need and to avoid unnecessary attention. The Imperial security force has been planet-side for less then twenty-four hours, so we expect any hostile intel to be light and rushed. If any at all. At this time, Imperial Intelligence has no creditable intelligence to point to the fact that any rogue state actors, enemy agents, or other threats would know about this arrangement at the starport. Most of this can be accredited to high secrecy of the cargo goods and the short duration planet-side.

"This should be a straight in-and-out operation. The Lambdas will land here, here, and here," the droid said, blue markers indicating where on the open flat landing pad area near the barges' energy fences but not too close, "They will be picking up the Imperial crew members inside the military tents inside the energy fence. First Flight and Second Flight will provide overhead flyover patrol of the starport. Third Flight will provide direct hover-over-target recon and security over the supply barges. The fourth Lambda will land here," the droid pointed, a red marker indicating where the one with the Stormtroopers and Imperial Navy Troopers would land (which was much closer), "The stormtroopers of Second Squad will secure the area around the supply barges' energy fence, while the Imperial Navy Troopers and both KX-series Security Droids will authenticate the Imperial crew members from the military tents and then escort the Imperials to the awaiting Lambdas. Once that is done, those Lambdas will depart under four TIE Fighter escort and reach the orbiting Gozanti-class cruisers.

"After the personnel are departed, the energy fence will lower and the supply barges will depart under eight TIE Fighter escort and the lone remaining Lambda," a new dotted (yellow) line appeared over the live holo map of the starport that had now frozen in place to show it all, the line coming from the main road, through the primary entrance/exit gate, and onto the flat landing pad area, "There is the expectation of a possible delegation from the capital city to see everything off and check on our status. In that event, Lieutenant Shan will be greeting the delegates with Staff Sergeant Oak as personal bodyguard. We expect some datapad signatures to be collected, Lieutenant, for our departure and good order of the cargo goods. A simple exchange of formal legal signatures."

The holo map disappeared, leaving the droid alone (or a holo of the droid for the bridge and TIE Pilots). The droids looked over everyone, "Once the supply barges reach medium orbit, they will microjump with the light cruisers back to the Darkest Night. Estimated mission completion time of thirty minutes from boots on ground to the supply barges reaching the light cruisers. Good luck."

The droid's holo disappeared for the other locations, while aboard the shuttle the droid collected the briefcase-sized holo projector after it had folded up into a briefcase and departed the shuttle. Soon thereafter, the engines of the Lambda started warming up to take-off power and the landing ramp started to retract.

"Go time," Animal stated matter-of-factly. Soon, the Lambda was lifting off and he felt the telltale drop from the belly of the star destroyer and into space. He put his helmeted head back against his seat and closed his eyes for the rest of the short trip....



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IC: Flying Officer Rick Johnson, Major Héctor Pérez
Rear Primary Hanger, Darkest Night, high orbit over Bakura


Johnson watched as the clean, Imperial gray hanger gave way to the black coldness of space and the rear engines of the 4 Lambdas ahead of them.

Major Pérez was quick on the comm as the swarm of 12 TIE Fighters started to separate from the belly hanger of the star destroyer.

"First Flight and Second Flight, escort those Lambdas and then attach to the War Camp and War Drum. Third Flight, you'll divert from escort and attach to the off-set War Cry out of the main formation."

Captain Keth Dotch was quick in reply after the other Flight Leaders, "Third Flight copies, Major," Dotch then switched channels to Third Flight's tactical channel, "Third Flight, form up on me. We're heading towards that off-set Gozanti-class cruiser. Bad 11, Bad 12, you two take the port docking clamps. Bad 9 and myself will take starboard."

"Bad 9 copies," Johnson said and fell in line. In short order, he followed Dotch and soon was slowing down and docking with the Gozanti-class cruiser's aft starboard docking clamp. Once he felt the clamp engage, he sat back for the taxi ride and soon jump into hyperspace....



TAG EVERYONE

 

IC: Natalia Markova
Darkest Night

Natalia's heart had calmed since her close encounter with a stormtrooper squad. She had plenty of other things to focus on. The classified datapads were open up to her, it was filled with very, very interesting information. Information that Natalia couldn't quite understand but, it was coming together. There were also the case notes she'd copied from Richter's office. It was a lot to take in all at once but if anyone could do it, it was her. She'd locked the datapad away and returned to her station.

The bridge was quiet with only the few that were in the meeting before setting off. It made for easy work to put in the coordinates and double check her math when you could hear a pin drop on the bridge. Though she did sometimes feel the need to look over her shoulder to see if any navy troopers were coming to arrest her. The paranoia of her previous actions held in the back of her mind, always wondering when or if she would be caught.

Taking a breath the Star Destroyer entered the star system still no troopers coming to take her away. She brought the ship into the ordered orientation giving them the capability to quickly respond to any threats that came their way.

Commodore Mazzanti set her to work on options for a quick escape, and possible entry points for aggressors. It was nice and simple. At their place in high orbit it gave them many options for outbound jumps. The shipping lanes somewhat bound them on either side but, they could adjust vertically and reach jump points above the globe of Bakura. There were other points but she was tasked with finding the quickest way out of the system. The other modes of egress were quick adjustments of angle and moving just out of the mass shadow of the planet, which wasn't very far, and making the jump to an intermediate place then further away. A typical method of disengaging and baffling a foe attempting to follow you. Given their previous encounters, trouble seemed to follow them, getting out and avoiding someone following them is a must.

On the other side, given the location of Bakura on the edge of the known galaxy, the angles of attack from an aggressor were limited. Again the shipping lanes restricted aggressive action. There were several stellar phenomena that further restricted entry points. The calculations were simple enough, and she double checked her numbers, being as thorough as she could. Once she was confident with her calculations she sent the options for escape, and for entry. She organized them by quickest exit to slowest exit and most likely entry point to least likely entry point, then sent it to the Commodore.

Afterwards a request for double checking the short jumps that the shuttles and Gozanti-class cruisers were about to make. Short jumps moving closer to a planet could be delicate, a little too far and the outcomes could be catastrophic. While they were routine it never hurt to double check the numbers.

She was glad to be at her post on the bridge of the Darkest Night, and not onboard one of the shuttles that were now descending to the planet. Seemed the current commodore found her abilities more of use on the bridge not joyriding around on a shuttle.

For just a moment she thought about reviewing the information she'd recently acquired. But that would be career suicide, and possibly literal suicide for her to pull up those pilfered files on the bridge of the Darkest Night. Ever since her metal break, at least that was what she was telling herself it was, she'd had the murder of her former commander on her mind. However she couldn't let that effect her performance, decrease the effectiveness of the Star Destroyer of which she was trusted with.

It was a delicate line to walk but she could do it.

She hoped.

TAG: @Bravo @Kalio_Dynkos

 

OOG: Continued from the below storyline:

• Oct 31, 2020
  
• Nov 1, 2020

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IC: Lord John Smith, Lord Alic Tarfa, Lord Gaetano Ferrari
Great Hall, Smith Family Castle; Mountville, Central District (Administrative District), Capital World


"I like the modern touch mixed with rustic frontier style," Tarfa said, his eyes scanning the Great Hall as the trio sat down at an impossibly long rectangular table at the back of the hall which overlooked two other sets of rectangular tables to either side of the Great Hall 5 yards away with a large open area between the tables and the forefront of the Great Hall for dancing, singing, and socializing. Before the open area beyond the tables for dancing, a priceless light maroon colored carpet showcasing golden stitched storytelling through pictures lay on the ground between and under the tables. Five silver chandeliers with flickering candles hung from the vaulted wooden ceiling and ran the length of the Great Hall, while flame torches dotted the two length walls every 36 feet. Four heavy wooden doors were to the right of the hall (the one nearest to the back wall lead to the main kitchen) and lead deeper into the castle proper, while the left side of the hall was decorated with eight windows (with wooden shutters) that spanned the length with every other window being a decorative multi-colored stained glass window, each showing a different myth or legend from the Kingdom of Jod. On the forefront of the Great Hall beyond the dance floor were two fireplaces that each took up a equal portion of the wall with a golden Flag of the Kingdom of Jod crafted into the pure white stone wall in between both fireplaces.

Well above the table against the back wall opposite the fireplaces was a circular window, its light pouring across the room. Across all the walls were paintings of various sail ships & starships of the Kingdom's Navy (as well as several legendary battles for both the Maritime Force & Space Navy Force) and several ancient melee weapons on the walls. A full suit of ancient metal knight armor complete with a sword stood in the far corner of the Great Hall near the fireplaces and doors, while a full uniform and equipment of a Naval Guard---on a mannequin complete with a cutlass sword forged in phrik and even a Standard Issue Army-Navy Revolver holstered in the black (flap-covered) cross-draw belt holster on the belt---stood in the far corner opposite the armored knight near the fireplaces and windows. The three tables were solid heavy dark red wood, while the chairs (the back table having 7 chairs along only one side and facing out towards the rest of the Great Hall, while the two other tables had 14 chairs along each side) were of similar color and were tall wooden chairs coated with a black leather seat & back and adorned with animal fur over the back of the chair; each table had three candles on it, evenly spaced out, giving light. The stone walls were a brushed red with silver and black highlights.

Beyond the Great Hall's windows were rolling green lands, several ponds with blissful benches around them, and a small forest all contained within the curtain wall surrounding the private castle's back-half.

"Thank you," Lord Smith said, tapping a few buttons on the console screen before pressing a button on the side of it and watching the computerized screen collapse and fold itself into the wood table with a hidden door closing over it and blending perfectly into the table; he looked at both Tarfa and Ferrari to his right (towards the windows) who also sat at the table, "I take great pride in the redesign of the castle, although I must say, its the things you don't see that have been changed the most."

"Continue," Tarfa urged with a smirk.

Smith smiled, "Painstakingly and in the upmost secrecy, I had crews working around the clock. We redid the inner support structure with titanium---although made it look like traditional thick wood on the outside---while the stone has been completely replaced throughout the entire castle with steelstone reinforced with titanium cores, including the curtain wall to copy with the same steelstone reinforced with titanium core design. Only the heavy and light wooden doors in the castle remain and even those were upgraded and replaced with newer fresher versions. The main castle gate is veshok wood reinforced with vardium steel."

"Sounds like one of our Army Forts," Ferrari replied.

Smith nodded, "I copied their same design principles, at least in those structural concepts. Makes for a strong house."

"Or fortress," Tarfa said with a knowing smile as he took his cup of coffee and took a sip, sitting it down gently.

"How long did you know?" Smith asked with a light smile.

Tarfa shrugged and smirked, "Trade secret," he warmed up with a smile and added, "By your second stone laid, if you must know."

"I would love to know your network of spies," Smith replied.

"I know you would," Tarfa replied with a knowing look.

"Although it seems your network has failed you Alic," Smith pointed out, "You've come to me for help. How telling."

"That hurt," Tarfa said and both men laughed a little.

"Although I do have the information you requested," John added a quick moment later, "And the data matches that from the sensors on the Allegiance."

"How did you get that information from the Allegiance?" Tarfa asked, his tone serious at the serious security gap that was apparently there.

Smith winked, "Trade secret."

Tarfa rolled his eyes, "Touché."

Ferrari got up, excusing himself, "Lords, I'll be a minute," Ferrari walked over to the far side of the Great Hall and picked up the comm call from his specially modified & spy-proof CivRug m34 used by the HRI. After a handful of words---those words from the speaker coming over through a ear bud in his ear---he returned and didn't bother to sit down as he stayed on the other side of the table, "Director," Ferrari said, "We have an issue."

"Let me guess," Tarfa said with all the ease in the galaxy, "The Hunk of Junk?"

Ferrari looked confused for a moment, but collected himself, "How did you know, sir?"

Tarfa smiled as he got up from the table and looked between Smith & Ferrari, "Trade secret," he sighed a moment later and shook Smith's hand after the man rose, "I'm sorry to cut our visit short, Lord Smith. But duty calls."

"As it is expected we meet that call," Smith replied, "Safe travels, my friend."


TBC ( @Mitth_Fisto & @greyjedi125 for reference)

 

IC: Elena Shan
Forward Auxiliary Hanger, Darkest Night, high orbit over Bakura

Elena laughed a little, settling into her seat next to Animal. "Just smile and do what they ask huh? I guess that's what politicians have to do all the time." She shook her head and sighed, listening as the droids went on about how the mission would run; but who knew if it would actually be that short. Elena certainly wasn't expecting to have only thirty minutes on the ground. "But your right Animal, I guess I should just try to relax." Elena said, leaning her head back and looking at the ceiling of the shuttle. She tilted her head slightly in a nod as the droid droned on, to acknowledge that she was listening; happy that she would at least have someone to watch her back, turned her thoughts to this part of space. Elena had never even been this far, and she couldn't help but wonder just how people managed to live out here. It was hard enough back home, but at least they had the Empire to protect them.

She felt tempted to copy Animal and fall asleep, but she didn't want to be more tired then she already was or get her uniform dirty. I guess all I have to do now is wait until we land. Elena shifted in her seat and let her gaze fall to the rest of the men, her men; Elena realised quietly to see their reactions. It was far from the action any of them wanted she was sure.

Tag: @Bravo

 

OOG: Combo post between @TheAdmiral and I. We had been working on this over the last week or two and with all the craziness of DRL the last few weeks, my brain spaced posting this before I did the Chapter 1 update. So without further ado, here we go!


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IC: Adrias Stark, Benjamin Jacob Waynes (DW-418125, aka "Face"), Jet Chan (TK-1245, aka "JC")
Starboard Vehicle Transfer Tube, Darkest Night (high orbit over Javin)


The whole process so tedious and... mindnumbingly boring. People thought that being part of the military meant nonstop action, exotic locales, hot damsels in distress needing to be saved, but the truth was that it was all very... mundane.

Yes there was action, but it was not that fast paced like in the holomovies or that heroic. But what came between these missions was this... checking hatches and running around tubes.

"I think so, though you stay close in case I mess things up." he gave a humorless chuckle.

"You got this Sergeant," Face said, smiling under his helmet as he added, "Worse case, you get hit by one of those overhead rail sleds. And I get a promotion. Bad for you, good for me."

"Please don't die Sergeant Stark," JC pleaded as he came to join the group, "Who knows how much more mirror space he'll take up in the mornings if he gets a promotion to sergeant. Its bad enough to takes twice as long as everyone else with that face of his."

"Beauty takes time," Face replied.


**********

"Locked," JC replied once the maintenance hatch was closed, feeling the sweat build up on his face under the helmet, "Now I know why so many troopers want to join the Sandtrooper Corps! I hear their air conditioned armor is amazing. Should be standard issue for us too!"

"Yeah, well," Face replied, pointing across the way and feeling as exhausted as everyone else, "Last one is over there. You can tough it out one more time JC or do you want a transfer to maintenance?"

By this point the trio of stormtroopers had made their progress through the tunnel a hard 30 minutes later. While they had had one close call, the new sergeant had performed himself adapt in handling new challenges that would have killed a lesser being. And the close call wasn't the sergeant's fault, rather it was JC tripping as he bolted to the other side of the tunnel. Face and Stark had pulled him up and rover the opposite railing just in time before a overhead rail sled came blasting by (which would have killed him instantly).


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"Last one," JC complained, walking up without a concern in the gala---

"Stop!" Face called out, everyone freezing, "You smell that?"

"Smell wha---" JC started, then had to hold his mouth shut, "Smells like rotting flesh!"

"Behind that door," Face pointed towards the maintenance door JC was about to open; the stormtroopers immediately took defensive positions in the small area they had. Face looked at Stark, "Orders, Sergeant?"

Adrias was not sure whether to welcome this sudden change. Usually these boring jobs got interesting only when there was trouble. And this seems to be the case. "Call the med center and also the sled control center to stop them." he ordered "Then call the MPs. If it is a crime scene we must not ruin any evidence."

"On it," Face replied, taking a few steps away to complete the orders.

As the corporal relayed the orders to the appropriate commands, JC looked to Adrias.

"Sergeant, shouldn't we at least check it out---sir? Clear the scene of any dangerous tangos or traps?"

Adrias was biting his lip under the helmet. Thinking frantically. "Turn on your helmet cam." he said cautiously "And try not to disturb the crime scene too much." The Sergeant was not sure whether or not he was doing this right as he was mostly basing this on all those cheesy and silly holoseries that he used to watch when he was bored.

JC opened the door and once he had, he wished he hadn't. The burned body in the maintenance room was more then he could handle.

"Sergeant," JC said, backing out of the work room; he looked at the NCO, "You better come take a look at this."


NO TAG (game moved into "Chapter 1")

 

IC: Chief Medical Officer Agnar Morana
Personal Quarters, Darkest Night, high orbit over Javin

It had only taken a moment to set up his quarters. He had, as ever, packed light. With a career such as his, Morana had seldom had time to really ever settle down. Even when at a posting for over decade, he kept to spartan quarters and usually no more than two or three small bags. He kept a few rotating trinkets from research - a preserved Zillo Beast tail-spike from a dig in Benathy, a signed copy of a set of publications by Obo Rin, and the last piece was the most personally hated of his collection and yet the most steady. In each location, no matter what had come and gone, this piece had always stayed.

Morana’s wiry fingers slowly caressed the jagged metal as it had hundreds of times before. His eyes likewise taking in each detail of the charred surface, the wires and components that almost seemed to have once been arteries that had once been powered by a single gem. The Kyber Crystal had long been removed - sold or lost, Morana couldn’t remember. Even without power, though, he could hear is his memory the energetic thrum that the Jedi’s lightsaber had once had. He could remember feeling the warmth of air as it swung near him, narrowly missing and slicing into and through his Uncle’s torso - rending him before his very eyes.

The calm, disconnected, almost entranced look of the Jedi had been what haunted him as a child.

Now, however, it was relic — just like the Jedi had become. Broken, disconnected, and without power.

Morana put the fractured hilt down on its display stand and surveyed the room. Everything was in its place. His books, his flimsies, and his datapads. These three items were his only decoration. In the Medical Bay he had left two crates of specimens, along with more artifacts that he had yet to catalog. Most of his work had been finished, put on hold, or transferred to other parties.

Still, Morana noted looking around the room, the prospect was a voyage into the Unknown Regions and what that could tell about the history of galaxy and the implications this could have scientifically on the galaxy as a whole was staggering. He might even say exciting, though he wouldn’t admit it to himself.

One last look around, Morana placed his arms behind his back, lowered his shoulder and headed out the door.

In a few moments, the Chief Medical Officer made his way on the Star Destroyer’s bridge for the first time - not his first time ever on a bridge, but certainly one of this type. He tugged slightly as his collar before stepping out on the vast space, noting how busy everyone was.

Commodore Mazzanti stood before the large viewports. He waited for the doctor to come alongside him before he spoke, glancing at him as he spoke (but otherwise keeping his attention on the on-goings out in space).

”I hope you slept well, doctor?" he paused a moment, before adding, "Wild space, Doctor Morana. Bakura is the orbit ahead of us. Has your experience ever lead you to this planet? And if so, what can you tell me of its people? Of the region of space around it? I will admit, I never even knew of the planet until a few hours ago."

Morana cleared his throat and leaned to look out the viewport himself.

“Ah, yes,” he said. “Mostly human, kind people. I was one actually part of an expedition some 30 years ago in the western hemisphere. The rainforests have a wonderful ecosytem surrounding a tree - namana is its name. It’s a natural intoxicant.”

Getting excited he leaned forward.

“Interestingly,” he said, waving his finger into the air. “The birds will often engorge themselves on its fruit, then pass out on the underfloor. This in turn attracts predatory species to devour the birds, which in turn creates a rich ecosystem throughout the area. Were it not for the fruit’s properties, no doubt the rain forest would be…would be quite desolate in comparison.”

“Oh, but the people,” he said finally. “Like any other. Human….ah! But if I remember correctly a…shall we say aversion to droids. Something pre-Clone Wars. One of our undergraduates had an R4 unit for field sample analysis. He’d lost it one morning, and it wasn’t some weeks until we’d heard it had been destroyed by some local miscreant. Could just be a local folk tale, but I suppose, ah, worth noting.”

Not really sure where he was going with the story, he stopped and looked back at the planet.

“Still, the Namana… quite fascinating, Commodore. If you could secure some, I’d be in your debt,” he said, and then remembered the question. “Surrounding area? Nothing of note. Endor, perhaps? But, I’m only familiar with the Ewok Jerky.”

He nodded to the Commodore.

“Quite tasty,” he said. “But, no. I wouldn’t say there is much out here for the Empire. An anthropologist, Sommerlier, or a big game hunter…sure. But, the area is rather untamed. What is our purpose here, might I ask?”



TAG: @Bravo @galactic-vagabond422

 

IC: Winterkill, Billy, & Jim Palso
Crew Lounge, Hunk of Junk, Hyperspace


"Congratulations. I upheld my end of the bargon and threw in Tora as a bonus. How about that?"

"You people have no idea who you're dealing with or what you're dealing with," Billy replied, his chuckle laced with anger and a greater understanding of something these Mercs didn't know.

Palso stepped into the crew lounge at that moment, Winterkill behind him. The nagai crossed his arms over his chest as he stood a few feet and off to the side of the Corellian. Palso stood lopsided to keep the weight off his wounded leg, while he kept a hand on his cross-draw blaster.

Billy looked between Havah, Winterkill, and Palso. He rolled his eyes with a chuckle, "So what is this? The three amigos to save the day? To bully me into telling you everything?"

"No," Jim replied, adding, "We'll just hand you over to the Monastery Moon Police Force. I'm sure they won't be too happy to hear about you bringing unnecessary attention to their little operation."

"You wouldn't dare," Billy stated.

Jim smirked and glanced over to Havah, "Do you want to remind him what connections you have to your black operations community? We could get some information that way, too. With a little torture maybe."

Billy glanced at Palso with annoyance, but then narrowed his eyes at Havah at the last few words came out of Palso's mouth. The distain in Billy's voice was clear; there was only one black operations unit for the Arkanians. "The Arkanian Black Guard is nothing more than monsters with blasters! Hired to protect the sick genetic scientists who work for the Arkanian Dominion and play species hunter to capture escaping Yaka from hospitals, where children are implanted with Arkanian technology and never given a chance to grow up naturally. Or silently dispose of influential Quermian who ask too many questions or question what the Arkanian government did to them."

Billy snarled at Havah with hatred Palso didn't think was possible. "Did you tell your friends here what the Arkanian Black Guard did to Yaka children who couldn't be controlled? Or whole Quermian families? How many screams Havah Jeth do you still hear at night while you sleep? How many death cries as you slit the throats of children, lined families up along walls and blasted them, or killed even your own Arkanian people who questioned or protested too loudly? How many, Havah Jeth?" Billy spit on the floor, "Now I know why the House of Royal Intelligence couldn't dig anything up on you before joining The Mercs. Even the Foreign Diplomatic Office & Services Agency couldn't get anything on you from partners in the Outside Galaxy. Black Guards are shrouded in secrecy, their lives a lie in themselves. You deceive your own families to become a murder. A beast. A monster! And the government ensures you never existed. But yet, here you are. In the flesh. As dozens---hundreds even---died at your feet. What stopped you, Havah? Why did you get out? What gave you a heart?"

And it was that pure hatred in Billy's words which had Palso looking at Havah the whole time. The Arkanian had never been one to disclose his past too much. Everyone had a past with The Mercs. Everyone accepted that and moved on. But all the same, it was always better to not ask questions you didn't want answers to.

"Havah?" Jim asked. You could have heard a pin drop.


TAG @Mitth_Fisto ( @greyjedi125 for reference)

 

IC: Lance Corporal Falen Duryn (DW-418177)
Forward Auxiliary Hangar, Darkest Night, High Orbit over Bakura

Falen settled into his seat onboard the Lambda shuttle, staring holes into the floor as Tech and Business joked about his earlier flub. His helmeted face shrouded his undoubtedly beet red face from view, something Falen was more than happy for. Once the laughter had finally begun to die down, Falen opened his visor, an easy-going smile on his face.

"Hey, the only aliens I've ever worked with were Gungans, and that was before I earned this armor, cut me some slack, eh? Y'all know how the academy is when it comes to non-humans. Anyone with head-tails is automatically a Twi'lek, and anyone blue is a Pantoran, you know how it is." He said with a chuckle, crossing his arms over his chest as he cast a sideways glance over to Eyes. "But, I am sorry for the insult Eyes, was never my intention."

Falen quieted down as the briefing began. The whole affair seemed to be a bog-standard asset protection gig, nothing too exciting. Drop in, protect the cargo, get out. Easy-peesy. His visor slid shut once more as he shifted his position a bit, getting more comfortable in the heard-plastic seat. It would be a little under a day before they arrived at their destination, plenty of time to catch a little shut-eye. He closed his eyes, resting his helmeted-head against the head rest.

Easy-peesy..

Tags: @Bravo , @Vehn

 

IC: Havah Jeth
Crew Lounge, Hunk Of Junk

Billy looked between Havah, Winterkill, and Palso. He rolled his eyes with a chuckle, "So what is this? The three amigos to save the day? To bully me into telling you everything?"

"No," Jim replied, adding, "We'll just hand you over to the Monastery Moon Police Force. I'm sure they won't be too happy to hear about you bringing unnecessary attention to their little operation."

"You wouldn't dare," Billy stated.

Havah quirked an eyebrow at that. He had merely promised he wouldn't kill the man, the others had free leave.

Jim smirked and glanced over to Havah, "Do you want to remind him what connections you have to your black operations community? We could get some information that way, too. With a little torture maybe."

Jim, idiot! Why did he have to take a mere shred of info and blab it like that?!? Looking at Billy Havah saw it there, pieces that no one had connected were being drawn together by two things, a statement of black ops and his own species. The distain in Billy's voice was clear; there was only one black operations unit for the Arkanians.

Billy snarled at Havah with hatred before starting a litanies long tirade.

"Havah?" Jim asked. After that hatred and long tale, well, you could have heard a pin drop.

Staring at them all for a minute he merely stood there, before his voice started cold and smooth. "It doesn't leave here. But I hear every cry of everyone that ever died. . .serving beside me. I see their faces at night." Removing his gloves he set them aside. "I couldn't give a gizka's fart about those I killed in service to my people. Most of your self fabricated victims information is erroneous anyways. Still, there was. . .one. I only hear one, I only see one that I killed. The one that ended my career, the one that made me leave. One that made me tell my family the truth. The one that ended it." Leaning down he whispered to the man, soft and low as his voice had become softer the longer he talked. Now with tears softly cascading he whispered the final truth. "No one gave me a heart, I took my brother's."


TAG @Bravo ( @greyjedi125 for reference)

 

IC: Commodore Valentino Mazzanti
Bridge, Darkest Night, high orbit over Bakura



“Quite tasty,” he said. “But, no. I wouldn’t say there is much out here for the Empire. An anthropologist, Sommerlier, or a big game hunter…sure. But, the area is rather untamed. What is our purpose here, might I ask?”

Mazzanti recognized the good doctor had a habit of telling stories. A trait that some might find annoying, but one that Velentino found---needed. The doctor's expertise extended beyond the operating table. A useful skill, especially for the dangerous of the Unknown Regions.

"We're picking up cargo," Mazzanti turned to look at the man, "That will help us in our mission to the Unknown Regions. Beyond that," Mazzanti turned back to the viewport, "Its a need to know and right now, doctor---for operational security---I can't say much more. However," the commodore turned his attention to an ensign that came up and gave him a datapad and waited around for the answer. Once read, the Commodore simply said, "Yes, at fastest speed possible." The ensign nodded, stiffened in a polite salute without the physical action of raising the hand and was off. Valentino turned to the good doctor, "In about---"

The bridge doors opened and Wing Commander Julius Petrov walked on the bridge, flanked by two Imperial Navy Troopers (Staff Sergeant George Ito being one of them; the other trooper carried a armored metal briefcase, the case strapped to his wrist with a coded handcuff bracelet). The staff sergeant glanced towards Natalia Markova, before Julius' words caught his attention. The Wing Commander kept his voice low enough to where only the commodore, doctor, and troopers could hear.

"...we unfortunately have confirmation," Petrov was saying as George brought his attention back to the conversation, "I've personally inspected the data and imagines provided. They're in the case if you want to look."

Mazzanti shook his head, his face resigned as he looked over to Natalia for a long moment, before turning his attention back to the Wing Commander, "No need, Wing Commander. Prepare what you need and alert me when you're ready. We'll collect everything on our way through and proceed from there. But do keep this quiet. This is not the news I wanted to hear on the start of my new command."

Petrov inclined his head, "As ordered, Commodore Mazzanti."

Without further ado, the Wing Commander snapped his feet together, turned sharply, and left the bridge with the two navy troopers still flanking him and in tow.

Velentino turned back to the bridge viewport windows as the bridge doors opened and then closed, watching as the three light cruisers and Lambda-class shuttles jumped into hyperspace. He could see the doctor's reflection in the viewport as he spoke.

"It appears, doctor, the Unknown Regions is already reaching out its hand even to here. It seems she herself is trying to stop us already," the commodore nodded in determination, "But we will not be deterred. Nor intimidated. By man or by myths."

After a long moment, the commodore looked at the doctor, "The ensign earlier was delivering a report. You'll have to excuse the lateness of this report and for not alerting you immediately. But, I did feel a good night's rest was more important and a good start to your first day. But it would seem our Chief of Security Gotz Richter has completed his work, so I feel this is now your field of expertise. Yesterday, we've recorded a unusual high number of deaths in one day. Three to be exact. All the victims were burned----it appeared---from the inside out, leaving nothing but the faintest signs of clothing and flesh on the bodies. Strangely enough, nothing around the victims was burnt or otherwise damaged. And Richter was able to conclude all three victims were not related, at least within their field of work. One victim was on the Entertainment Deck in a Crew Holo Theater, another in the starboard Vehicle Transfer Tube, and a third in the Secondary Cargo Bay.

"While Richter's investigation is still ongoing, he's found no evidence of a liquid or powder deposited onto of the individuals, no physical device planted on the bodies, and no signs of self-harm or other outward weapon damage to the bodies. No work place hazards, either. They literally seemed to just have burned up from the inside out; this theory has some weight, as Richter has concluded the burn patterns on both the clothing remnants and remnant body flesh show a inward to outward burn pattern. Richter's investigation is looking now into personal lives, friendships---both personal and working professional relationships---career patterns, social patterns, and everything else. He'll transfer all necessary findings to your desk. I've also ordered all the bodies transferred to the Command Medical Bay. I believe there you will have the most privacy and secrecy. And I do ask that you keep this as quiet as possible, doctor. The crew is on edge as it is after Javin, I do not want something else to put them even more on edge."



TAG @Kalio_Dynkos and @galactic-vagabond422

 

IC: Winterkill, Billy, & Jim Palso
Crew Lounge, Hunk of Junk, Hyperspace


The warning alert of the eventual arrival to their destination could be heard down the corridor. In the moment that Havah leaned back from Billy's face, Jim could see the tears on Jeth's face.

Jim wouldn't ask.

"I hate to break this all up, but we're approaching the Monastery Moon," Palso said.

"I'm in," Billy suddenly said.

"What?" Jim asked.

"I said I'm in," Billy said, looking between the three of them, "If you're going to go do what I think you're going to do, then you'll need someone like me to avoid getting killed. Like I said, you people have no idea who you're dealing with or what you're dealing with," he looked across all three of them.

"You shot me," Jim replied.

"Are you going to get us out of hyperspace or just let us fly through the planet?" Billy replied with, avoiding the verbal jab.

Palso snorted and then turned to Havah, "Check on his ninja buddy, Tora. Make sure he's out cold," Palso turned to Winterkill, "You'll stay on the ship with the droids to make sure the ninja stays where he should. If he so much as moves, kill him. And no one gets onboard unless it's me or Havah," Jim then looked at Billy, "As for you, you're coming with us. You so much as breathe wrong and I'll shoot you."

Billy simply replied, "Hyperspace and planet?"

Palso rolled his eyes and looked at Havah and Winterkill and then all three of them silently broke ranks to carry on their jobs. Winterkill followed Jim for a moment towards the cockpit.

"Care to enlighten me Palso?"

"On what?" Jim said as he jumped into the pilot seat as Walking Library took a seat in the co-pilot seat as Bugger hooked up at the Engineering & Damage Control seat (left rear seat, behind the pilot) as Winterkill stopped on the outside bulkhead and looked into the cockpit.

"About what Billy meant," Winterkill replied, sounding annoyed at Palso's at-the-hip planning without informing anyone else, "What do you plan on doing?"

"I have a hunch," Jim said, strapping on his crash webbing, "And that hunch is Aces' Club. I just need to ask the right or," he looked back to Winterkill, "Wrong questions."

"You know Captain Taller's rules about talking to Aces' Club!" Winterkill cited, "You can only go through The Mercs and through that channel means through Taller, Commander Vacks, or Lieutenant-Commander Streets! We can't cross that line. If Taller finds out---"

Palso pointed a index finger at Winterkill, "You can't cross that line," Jim forked a thumb towards his chest, "I can and I will."

Winterkill hissed, "Corellian scum!" he turned and stormed off to go guard Billy and Tora. Let the Corellian idiot die, Winterkill thought! He would follow Taller's orders, even though the man wasn't here. It was called respect. Something that Palso was seemingly missing at the moment for the greater Mercs.

Havah had managed to squeeze by Winterkill as the alien stormed off and the ex-soldier took a seat in the Navigational & Communications seat (right rear seat, behind the co-pilot).

"Don't ask," Palso said to Havah's lingering unsaid question as the man sat down and strapped in.

"Exiting hyperspace, Captain Palso," Walking Library said from the co-pilot seat.

As the blue tunnel of hyperspace collapsed into straight star lines and then stationary stars as the planet of Belkadan snapped into place as the star lines disappeared and gave way to the stationary stars. Jim piloted the light freighter towards the larger planet's solo and sand-swept & desolate moon.

"How long will Tora be out?" Jim asked as he looked back towards Havah as the moon loomed larger.


TAG @Mitth_Fisto ( @greyjedi125 for reference)

 

Flying Officer Saraali Deatar IC:
~Rear Primary Hangar, Darkest Night~

Now well rested and ready to begin the day’s sudden big events since they had arrived at Bakura, Saraali found herself seated in her favorite place. A TIE Fighter. Within moments, she was smoothly sailing through preflight checks and getting her mind ready and zeroed in on the mission.

There had been some last minute changes, but they were nothing that couldn’t be accommodated. Command handled the issue and they were back on track.

She watched her systems excitedly, something she rarely felt anywhere else, go from red to yellow. Then from yellow to green.

Engines fired to life and then came the Major’s voice. It was nearly time.

“Third Flight, check in.”

She listened to everyone going through in order. Nearly rolling her eyes at: “Bad 9 all green.”

But no. Not now, not here, not at this time. She was in a fighter and ready for a mission, this was too good. She would not allow the voice of the idiot to break her one ‘happy place.’ Plus, now would be the time he could try to prove he had some skills.

When it became time, she chimed in.

“Bad 11, all systems green.” For those who were used to (or beginning to be used to in this ISD’s case) her cool demeanor, the almost giddy voice that came through over the com would probably be a shock. All professional, and yet…

Something had changed.

She knew it was merely she was where she was meant to be. Everyone else? Probably as clueless as a bantha in a cantina.

Officer Kya reported in a few seconds after her and they were all set. The mission briefing, via holo, came next. She listened rapturously.

“Attention Imperials. You are deploying from the Darkest Night at 22,236 miles away from Bakura in high orbit—see the blue dotted line. At maximum speed for a TIE Fighter, that would put your arrival at the planet in 18.53 hours and your fuel stores would be exhausted before arrival. Unacceptable and tactically unsound.”

Officer Deatar nodded within her cockpit, the TIE helmet obscuring her facial features.

“The War Cry, War Camp, and War Drum of the 217th Naval Battle Group. Newly upgraded Gozanti-class with an additional ventral twin laser cannon, specifically made for Outer Rim commands, and all three weapon emplacements standardized to twin laser cannon turrets. While able to carry 4 TIE Fighters externally on hooks, these Gozanti are awaiting their TIE forces. In the meantime, Bad Love Squadron will be utilizing them as carriers.

“The Gozanti and Lambda-class shuttles will do a highly calculated Microjump—see the dotted and solid red lines. The Bakura Senate is allowing us to utilize smaller warships to fly closer to the planet and away from the main space lane traffic. We understand this is to avoid upsetting the civilian populace, who most have never seen a star destroyer before. It should be noted that Bakura is a neutral planet, but they have hopes of joining the Empire.”

Which meant they’d be used to seeing the occasional Star Destroyer before long.

“As such, you are to conduct this mission by the book and—as the Imperial Diplomatic Corps has requested—show your best side. Whatever that means to organics.”

Saraali continued to watch mindfully at the holo showing the launch of TIEs and Lambdas going planet side as well as all the on-the-ground details. She took it all in, even the specifics that didn’t necessarily apply to her. Just incase.

“As you can tell by the holo, security is light considering the scope of the starwort. But adequate to the need and to avoid unnecessary attention. The Imperial security force has been planet-side for less than twenty-four hours, so we expect any hostile intel to be light and rushed. If any at all. At this time, Imperial Intelligence has no creditable intelligence to point to the fact that any rogue state actors, enemy agents, or other threats would know about this arrangement at the starwort. Most of this can be accredited to high secrecy of the cargo goods and the short duration planet-side.”

Competence. Always well received in her book.

“This should be a straight in-and-out operation. The Lambdas will land here, here, and here. They will be picking up the Imperial crew members inside the military tents inside the energy fence. First Flight and Second Flight will provide overheard flyover patrol of the starwort. Third Flight will provide direct hover-over-target recon and security over the supply barges. The fourth Lambda will land here. The stormtroopers of Second Squad will secure the area around the supply barges’ energy fence, while the Imperial Navy Troopers and both KX-series Security Droids will authenticate the Imperial crew members from the military tents and the escort the Imperials to the awaiting Lambdas. Once that is done, those Lambdas will depart under four TIE Fighter escort and reach the orbiting Gozanti-class cruisers.”

Pretty straight forward and simple enough. Very good.

“After the personnel are departed, the energy fence will lower and the supply barges will depart under eight TIE Fighter escort and the lone remaining Lambda. There is the expectation of a possible delegation from the capital city to see everything off and check on our status. In that event, Lieutenant Shan will be greeting the delegates with Staff Sergeant Oak as personal bodyguard. We expect some datapad signatures to be collected, Lieutenant, for our departure and good order of the cargo goods. A simple exchange of formal legal signatures. Once the supply barges reach medium orbit, they will micro jump with the light cruisers back to the Darkest Night. Estimated mission completion time of thirty minutes from boots on ground to the supply barges reaching the light cruisers. Good luck.”

The holo briefing ended at last. Saraali just smiled. It really was time now. Her hands reached for her controls, fingers flexing expectantly. Easy mission or not, she was just happy to fly again.

The command came and she was dropping out and found herself soaring through space behind the Lambdas with her fellow TIEs. Ah, now this was bliss!

“First Flight and Second Flight, escort those Lambdas and then attach to the War Camp and War Drum. Third Flight, you’ll divert from escort and attach to the off-set War Cry out of the main formation.”

That was Major Pérez again, with Captain Dotch immediately replying.

“Third Flight copies, Major. Third Flight, form up on me. We’re heading towards that off-set Gozanti-class cruiser. Bad 11, Bad 12, you two take the port docking clamps. Bad 9 and myself will take starboard.”

She gave a little nod, despite no one actually seeing.

“Bad 9 copies.”

“Bad 11 copies, Captain.”

As ordered, she formed up on her superior and in short order, was docked on the left (or port) side clamps with her wing mate, Bad 12.

Now to wait for the little ride to hyperspace…the only thing that made her sad. The temporary loss of manual control. How she wished they’d fit hyperdrives on TIEs one day, though knowing it’d never happen.

Tag: Third Flight (Lieutenant Shan mentioned from briefing) @Bravo @Sinrebirth @TheSilentInfluence

 

IC: Jengleheimer Voss ‘aka Jingle’ 'aka Master Chef'
GenMess 1, Entertainment Deck, Darkest Night; high orbit over Bakura


Jingle was just double checking that everything was squared away for tonight's dinners when he looked out and saw a very very rude Imperial. Feet on the table? Was he raised by pack of Tooka Cats? Actually with that many broken regulations there was really only two possibilities, the man was either spec ops or a pilot. Noting the jumpsuit he finally spotted the proper insignia - pilot. Fllyboys always thought they were above it all just because they flew around in little ships with no shields and were very blatantly disposable. Noting the caf and the pad Jingle went back into the refrigeration unit and shortly returned with a small covered tray.

Walking out he finally noted the rest of the pilots garb dumped in a pile by the chair whilst watching whatever was on the holo screen on the far wall. Something that long ago had become background noise he ignored. Ignoring the rest of the motley crew he came up behind the pilot, taking a beat to see what on the screen he avidly ignored had caught the pilots attention.

The holoscreen was showing the local news outlet on Bakura reporting the news. The news report was STAR DESTROYER! Friend or Foe? What you need to know! The news ticker under it, aside from showing a few local news reports and weather, had hotlines for stress related symptoms when seeing an star destroyer and what to do and not do when seeing Imperials.

Clearing his throat Jingle came around the pilot, who had likely heard his approach thanks to his mech leg. "If you don't know the answer to that question, you really are as daft as you appear." Jingle stated with dour tone, although the grin on his face and twinkle in his eyes were clear indications it was not meant in that sour note. Waving at man's feet with a free hand he made a shooing motion.


TAG @Bravo

 

OOG: Here we go peeps! If you're running a bit behind, no worries. Just catch up as you can.

Large "outline" post to shape the environment. Feel free to post/reply within these large boundaries to your heart's content. I will adjust to your tags (don't feel overly constrained by mine). Get out there and post!

I will get to other tags tomorrow and Friday. This post has already taken me a few hours to get up.

________________________________________________


IC: Lieutenant Commander Zeek "Outbound" Sanddoom
Shuttle 321 ("Lucy"), Lambda-class T-4a Shuttle, exiting micro jump over Bakura


...714th Special Operations Shuttle Group
06:43 hours
Dayside of Bakura...


"Status?" Sanddoom asked as cool as ice, focused solely on the mission at hand. His hands shook as he struggled mildly with the control yoke as spare droplets of sweat rolling down the edges of his face as the fiery wall of flame completely blanked out his forward cockpit transparisteel viewport, thus forcing him to rely on sensors and teamwork.

Never far from his vision on the instruments panel, however, were two hard copy photos. One photo showed his whole family---his wife and three girls with him on one of those staged family photos---while the other photo was of him and his wife only.

"All green. Descent within acceptable ranges," his co-pilot, Lieutenant DN-SO-3-14 replied as he kept his eyes glued on the instrument panel and sensor data rolling across his screens; he kept his hands close to the second control yoke pair (hovering just inches from them), but refrained from assisting in the piloting duties unless one of the emergency indicators in his constant training & experience told him to do so. This would prevent over correction and also avoid a potential crash. He finally added a handful of tense heart beat moments later, "Exiting descent in...three....two...one..."

Zeek watched as the last traces of flame disappeared from the cockpit and the control yoke's erratic dance slowed to normal high altitude turbulence and the veteran pilot was able to ease his tight grip on the controls just a little. He glanced out to the other sides of the cockpit as their four TIE Fighter escorts---Third Flight---kept pace with them, their rectangular solar panels shedding the fiery streaks as the TIEs formed up with two on flanking escort and the other two on high and far rear escort. They came in with the sun to their backs and Zeek never got old of the gentle rays of sunlight that gently warmed up any world's weakening dark skies, turning them from a pitch black to a lighter black and then to the first stages of a traditional "sunrise". The fiery red-orange that shot across the morning sky and silhouetted clouds in the distance was----beautiful. He glanced at the two photos of his family on the instrument panel quickly and smiled; he would complete this Unknown Regions tour and then turn in his resignation early to the military, missing retirement by 7 years but figuring after 13 years he had given enough missed anniversaries, missed childbirths, and missed birthdays to the defense of the Empire. However much he enjoyed flying, he would enjoy every sunrise much more on his farm back on Corellia. He'd find a local job in town until he built up his farming operation large enough to support the family.

He gently pulled back on the yoke and banked right after the slight climb as the general comm channel came alive. Below were the other three Lambda-class Shuttles of Second Flight & Third Flight (attached to the 714th Special Operations Shuttle Group). Around the shuttles were four TIE Fighters (one per shuttle to the left or right flank with a fourth TIE flying low escort under the shuttles), while another four TIEs were up ahead of the group descending faster in pairs and slowly (but steadily) growing further and further apart as pairs, seeming to create a wide upside "C" formation as if they were trying to encompass something large and distant on sensors.

As the shuttle group broke through the last clouds, Zeek saw what those forward TIEs were doing as the distant footprint of a starport became clearer and clearer below.

"Bad One," came Major Héctor Pérez's voice over the comm channel, "Has clear visual of starport."

"Raptor 3 copies," replied the communications tech, Able Crewmen DN-SO-3-17, from the shuttle's cockpit, "Standing by for the all clear."

As the woman finished her report, Zeek looked down at his instruments as if her voice reminded him to do so and he held up on the speed, bringing the nose of the Lambda up a bit more to allow more drag to slow them down naturally. They needed to give the forward TIEs enough time to recon the area, while also not making themselves easy targets either for hidden anti-aircraft emplacements (although the likelihood of those being a remote threat to this mission was next to zero) as they dropped in altitude.

As the starport neared from the ground up, the four forward TIEs edged further and further out from the starport, sooner encompassing the whole edge and getting a adequate sensor read-out of the whole area, with the two pairs soon zipping past each other and then performing a hard controlled dive now in opposite positions as they zoomed in towards the starport.

"Copy Raptor 3," Héctor replied, "We're going down for a close visual now. Hang tight."


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


IC: Flying Officer Rick Johnson & Captain Keth Dotch
Morning skies over Bakura


Johnson had to stifle a yawn.

Well, tried to.

Thank the Force his helmet comm wasn't activated or he'd get a write-up for that! He shook his head as to clear his bored thoughts as he looked out at the shuttles and TIEs below. While he could brag he was at least at the highest point of high cover rear escort, he'd much rather be the major and his flight below as they put on the speed and rocketed towards the starport below that was just starting to show itself through the thinning clouds.

Directly below and forward of them was Raptor 3 with Bad 11 & Bad 12 in near perfect flanking escort formation.

Well, actually, perfect.

While Johnson thought he could brag about being top cover escort, he had to admit to he was feeling jealous of that formation below. Those two TIEs kept perfect with the shuttle, seemingly adjusting before the Lambda knew what it would do. As the jealously rose in him, he batted it down and disregarded them with a smirk.

"Show offs," he muttered instead to regain his edge and ego.

He decided to take a look at his sensors after taking a quick scan of the morning skies. On the very edge of his sensor screen, he caught something. He waited a moment to see if it would appear again, but it didn't.

"Huh," he said to himself, then activated his comm channel, "Bad Nine to Bad Five," Johnson reported.

"Go ahead Bad Nine," Captain Keth Dotch replied, the TIE to the left of Johnson's.

"Sir, my sensors picked up something brief on passive scans. Sector Three, Charlie Area, roughly point ten out. Moving South of our location. Just a flicker. There, then gone. It hasn't appeared since."

"Copy Bad Nine. Probably just stellar interference or low orbit objects burning up in atmo this far up. Keep a eye on it, but its probably nothing."

"Copy Bad Five," Johnson replied.

Great! he mentally kicked himself, I'm getting all spooked over some low orbit space trash!

Regardless, his academy training was kicking he and he had alert tones going off in his head. Space debris or not, he wouldn't be a fool. He punched in a few commands on his console, keeping a general passive scan of the whole area, while prioritizing Sector Three and both Bravo and Charlie Areas with a light active scan burst every fifteen seconds. While his sensors kept a look out on the whole area, he would do a classic pinning technique in the the area before, area of, and area after (any object that returned the pin would indicate to him a solid sensor hit---but a sensor hit could be just falling space debris as well). He then worked some quick magic and worked a custom sensor scan into his sensor outfit. He would begin a tracking program that would use hyper aggressive active sensors to follow the predictable path Johnson would have taken if he wasn't just falling space debris and, in fact, an enemy aggressor trying to get behind their formation.

While the hyper aggressive program would give away his own position (it was like playing drums in a echo-heavy gym), it would also provide a solid rear guard protection (but would also be easy to defeat, as one simply had to fly around his focused cone of sensor aggression---that assumed, a course, the person knew where Johnson's sensor cone was, which would be highly unlikely). The targeted sensor read could also be easily defeated if Johnson's own predictions were wrong, leaving him with only easily fooled passive sensors with the sun to his back (which would also mask any tango's approach from visual scans).

He sighed.

"Probably just space debris," Johnson told himself quietly with a great deal of depression at his own truth, sadly knowing that no one would give him credit for thinking up of this three-way sensor program if nothing happened. And if he tried to tell anyone, they wouldn't believe him, calling him a egotistical liar.

Egoistical? Yes.

Liar? No.

But who would care? No one.


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


IC: Master Sergeant Craig Anthony Stewart (DW-418121; "Animal") & Staff Sergeant Rusty Oak
Shuttle 321 ("Lucy"), Lambda-class T-4a Shuttle, morning skies over Bakura



Animal opened his eyes finally as the erratic bouncing of the shuttle slowed to gentle turbulence.

While LT Shan was the ranking stormtrooper on this op for the white armored ground pounders, she held the position administratively because of her injury. That put Animal in charge of ground ops for the Stormtroopers and---if there was anything that arose---the good lieutenant had command from the interior of the shuttle, directing overall strategy between the stormtroopers and the Navy Troopers.

Although he doubted she would trade in the actual field of battle for a comset and sensor map aboard a shuttle's cockpit. Sure, she might take those things with her, but he very much doubted she would stay within the interior of the shuttle.

Animal activated his helmet comm, "Second Squad," he said to the stormtroopers on external speakers, "We're game time in under two minutes. Keep it professional and short on the comm. Check those blasters---make sure there hot."

While he knew his squad-mates didn't need to hear any of that, he was sure that some Imperial Security Bureau lackey monitoring his helmet feed after action would love to hear that. It probably made them all excited.

As if taking cues from the speaking stormtrooper, Staff Sergeant Rusty Oak looked around to his Imperial Navy Troopers across the shuttle bay and whirled his index finger around in the motion of "go time". Unlike the stormtrooper, Oak didn't need to verbalize his commands. He just needed to show them.

Soon, stormtroopers and navy troopers alike were checking and arming blasters, the clicks and whines of energy weapons warming up would make any hardcore military warrior smile.


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


IC: Lieutenant Commander Zeek "Outbound" Sanddoom
Shuttle 321 ("Lucy"), Lambda-class T-4a Shuttle, morning skies over Bakura



Zeek watched as the advanced four TIEs finished a standard flyby and clearing of a landing area, the four TIEs spreading out from the starport and taking up higher and higher covering positions.

"Bad One to Raptor 3," came Héctor's voice over the comm, "The starport is clear. You may start your approach."

The communications tech, Able Crewmen DN-SO-3-17, looked up towards the front of the cockpit without replying to the squadron leader, "Lieutenant Commander?" Her voice trembled slightly with the excitement of the moment.

Zeek had heard the same traffic and he switched over the comm reply to his station, "Raptor 3 copies, Bad One," he switched over to the general comm traffic, "Shuttle Group, you may start your approach. We'll follow you on up tight."

"Shuttle Group copies. Beginning our approach," the ranking officer, Senior Lieutenant DN-SO-5-24 of Raptor 5, replied over the comm channel.


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


IC: Flying Officer Rick Johnson & Captain Keth Dotch
Morning skies over Bakura



Johnson watched as the larger escort formation started breaking up as orders came down. The three shuttles below them by some distance started their approach, their engines speeding up and rocketing the Lambdas downward towards the starport below. As they did that, their heavy TIE escort kept pace and then started slowly breaking apart, to where by the time the shuttles would land they would be flying over and taking high cover positions while the major and his flight kept a medium ceiling but much further spread out around the far outskirts of the starport and kept Johnson and company directly over the starport.

As their own Lambda started its approach, Keth gave instructions as he and Johnson spread out to five-times their original distance between each other in high cover but kept pace on a downward track.

"Keep it tight, Bad 11 & Bad 12," Keth said as the two TIEs by far had the hardest job of Third Flight if they had to look parade-style perfect for the Empire's soon-to-be-allies.

Johnson felt the raw power of the standard TIE Fighter as he put the speed down, keeping pace with the approaching shuttle. He checked his sensors one last time, seeing no more of that sensor blip.

Just falling space debris, he told himself.

Soon, the starport was coming up on them fast. The buildings started to look more defined, then the ground---he started easing up on the speed as the shuttle started drifting back and rearrange itself for a landing----then the cargo barges, and then the people. He saw the dust kick-up from his repulsors as he and the rest of Third Flight came up on a perfect "box" almost on a dime. He smiled as a few of the Bakura security guards ducked for cover.

The Empire's training would ensure no mistake could ever happen. The approach and four corner "box" hover formation around the cargo barges was done flawlessly.

Even Deatar wouldn't be able to find fault in how they performed with next to zero flight time together. Well maybe Kya could, but even that was like splitting a hair ten different ways to find a fault.

He just smiled inside his helmet as Keth's voice came over their helmets, "Excellent job, Third Flight. Better than text book! Now, lets keep this pick-up clear and then go home. Drinks on me if we get off planet without a scratch."


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


IC: Master Sergeant Craig Anthony Stewart (DW-418121; "Animal") & Staff Sergeant Rusty Oak
Shuttle 321 ("Lucy"), Lambda-class T-4a Shuttle, morning skies over Bakura



"Thirty seconds!" yelled Chief Petty Officer DN-SO-3-15 back into the cargo hold, the navigator from the cockpit of the shuttle. The man's loud voice carried like a bark throughout the shuttle and could wake the dead.

"Game time," Animal said out-loud to everyone, then he addressed the stormtroopers, "Team B and Team C, stretch a security zone around that security fence. Team B left towards the hangers and the front energy gate, Team C towards that field and around to the back-side of the energy fence. Wrap it loose gentlemen and stretch it thin for skirmish. Team A and Sniper Unit, deploy aft of the landed four Lambdas and guard from enemy approach from the airfield. Spread it out thin, skirmish line. 50 yards from the shuttles. Enemy contact to either the airfield, main starport front gate, or open field and Team B will redeploy to reinforce point of contact. All other teams and snipers stay put in defensive positions. Priority is the Imperial personnel and those cargo transports. Slow enemy advances and fall back with a good defense until they're all clear."

"Five seconds! Four---three---two---one---" the chief petty officer barked.

Animal felt the shuttle land, the landing ramp drop, and he was one of the first ones out, running down the ramp and across the open landing, cracked landing area with weeds growing through the cracks. He made it to the far corner of the security fence towards the hangers and was motioning and ordering into his helmet comm, "Move! Move! Move!"

He looked around, waited as he saw Second Squad deploy all around, then he jumped on his comm, "Area secure! Security, go!"


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

Oak & Shan


Oak heard the orders from the stormtrooper NCO and ordered his men out after the droids, "Move it!"

As the droids and navy troopers raced across the landing area to the security fence to begin the screening process, Oak stood at the bottom of the landing ramp with Lieutenant Shan. He scanned the area to where the political delgation would be coming from.

Strange, they were nowhere to be seen.

"Maybe their running late, Lieutenant?" Oak offered half-heartily, although he was quickly starting to get a bad feeling about all of this. This was a out-of-the-way starport with little (if any) traffic. Nothing should have held up the delegates, in fact they should be waiting here for them (and not be rude and keep the Imperials waiting).


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

Team A & Sniper Unit


Tech was kneeling on one knee as he looked out across the massive landing area and towards the distant 2 airstrips. He took a look back for a moment towards the open field to the side of the shuttles and saw one of the All Terrain Defense Pods patrolling over there, along with 6 local Bakura security force troops and 2 Imperial Navy Commandos. He looked back to the airstrips and on the far side of the airstrips he saw the other All Terrain Defense Pod, with another 6 local Bakura security force troops patrolling between it and the foreground of the airstrips, while two more Imperial Navy Commandos patrolled with the walker.

A solid, if light, defense. That would leave 8 local Bakura security force troops inside the main ruins with two additional navy commandos on patrol with them. The main gate to the starport would have 5 local Bakura security force troopers and 3 navy commandos, while up in the control tower were four Scout Troopers equipped with DLT-19x targeting blasters covering all four directions out from where the control tower scanned over and four Scout Troopers with white painted Model TD2.3 Electrobinoculars (making 4 "sniper teams" of two Scout Troopers each, a gunner and a spotter). A single Imperial Officer (with combat armor) of Captain rank was in the control tower overseeing the whole operation, as well as two Bakura security force officers.

That would leave around the modern-looking fence-field with a energized laser gate (with the 3 supply barges and several rigid military tents for personnel inside the fence) two Imperial Navy Commandos standing sentry at the energized gate on either side with five local Bakura security force troops, while another navy commando was on the inside of the gate (to the side) standing sentry and six other navy commandos were patrolling in pairs around the landing pad outside the energy fence. The lone All Terrain Scout Transport was standing sentry by the hangers looking out towards the open field, front main gate to the starport, and distant airstrip, while the four K79-S80 Imperial Troop Transports were in one of the hangers.

He brought his head around to where he saw Eyes flat on his stomach roughly 10 yards to his right, sniper rifle stretched out and pointed towards the distant airstrips.

"Anything?" Tech asked.

"Nothing," Eyes replied as he looked through his scope, "Unless you want womp rat for dinner."

"Those things live here, too? I thought that was just Tatooine."

"They look like womp rats. How about that?"


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

Team C


Face looked out towards the open grass field, where he could see the walker patrol in the distance with troops in support scattered around.

"Nothing," Face said matter-of-factly, kneeling on one knee and scanning the area.




TAG @TheSilentInfluence , @TheAdmiral , @Darth_Elu , @Sinrebirth , @Silvertough , @Vehn

 

IC: Natalia Markova
Darkest Night

The new Chief Medical Officer was talking with the Commodore. In the quiet of the bridge she could hear every word. It seemed the people below did not care for droids? She was curious as to why, droids were fantastically useful handling jobs that would be too dangerous for sentient creatures, or require dexterity or strength beyond that of a normal sentient. They were also useful in filling gaps, they could take the role of doctor when there were few available. A few could even handle the task of navigation though they would lack a certain creativity that a human such as herself could to the role. That was of course the advantage of flesh and blood over metal and servos, creativity. Even though many had called her cold and robotic in her technical school, she was far from a droid that did calculations.

There was mention of what their mission was from the good doctor, though the Commodore only let him in on what he could know. Natalia only gave a brief look over to the pair from her place in the crew pit. She was aware of the mission of what the plan going forward was but she as well was sworn to secrecy. It wasn't the only secret floating around in her head.

The Commodore stopped half way through speaking to accept a datapad from an Ensign. Natalia focused on her work but couldn't help throwing a glance to Mazzanti, her heart rate going up just a little. It was likely nothing to do with her or her little excursion into the Security Chief's office, but she couldn't know that for certain.

The bridge doors opened and the Wing Commander entered flanked by two Navy Troopers. One of them, a Staff Sergeant by his markings, looked to her. There was metal briefcase cuffed to the other trooper's arm. As they reached the Commodore they spoke in hushed tones that Natalia couldn't hear. Again her heart beat hard in her chest, sweat turned her hands a little clammy, she turned her attention to her station fighting her urge to look over her shoulder, to make up an excuse to walk closer to the group to hear what they were saying. But that would give her away, she had to focus, turn her attention to her work, not worry about the goings on around her.

Her fingers moved over the keys on her console double checking her math again. In the back of her mind a song began to play, her fingers playing out the notes. She couldn't help herself the stress, the worry building up inside her causing her to spiral in her mind, to fall back into her familiar habits.

It was like she could feel eyes on her, the troopers, the Wing Commander, everyone was watching her, waiting for her to crack. The back of her head itched, her ears rang with discordant viols and the beating of her heart. Finally she just couldn't take it anymore and looked over her shoulder just as Mazzanti looked her way. In that short moment she felt her heart drop. He was looking at her, did he know, was that what the briefcase was about? Was it about her and her actions earlier? Her heart rate spiked and she quickly turned away focusing fully on her task the music growing louder and louder, in her head, a funeral march just for her.

The troopers left, leaving her to just sit and stew in her fear. When would they come for her? When would she be revealed to be a thief.

She couldn't hear much of what the Doctor and the Commodore spoke about as she was keeping her focus on her work. Though the few words she did hear, were fascinating…sparking a feeling in her...

Her curiosity would be the death of her...

TAG: @Bravo @Kalio_Dynkos

 

IC: Sergeant First Class Adrias Stark
Forward Auxiliary Hanger, Darkest Night, high orbit over Bakura

The whole situation with the burnt body has been distressing for Adrias. Such a lonely and gruesome end to one’s life. He shuddered, but trying to look nonchalantly at the others while JC recounted the “discovery”.

They tried to keep it all professional and hopefully they did not disturb the crime scene too much with their meddling. The MPs were tightlipped about it, aside from the “interviews” as they called the interrogation.

Adrias simply nodded in agreement. The stench was horrible, even through the helmet’s filters. The Sergeant was half worried that it might even get stuck in the helmet and that he would have to live with it…

One thing was for sure, he would not be having BBQ anytime soon.

Stark clenched his teeth under the helmet at the mention of the Unknown Regions. Great, just great, be stuck in that part of the Galaxy. He wondered whom he had crossed to be sent there.

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

Adrias tried to focus during the briefing, another guard duty, they were turning into glorified guards. He stifled a resigned sigh. Adrias tried to reign in his thoughts as they started to wander, especially at the mention of the Lieutenant.

What’s up with that? Could she have gotten under his skin so easily? Adrias pursed his lips under the helmet. The mission came first, then he’ll have time to think about these things. And if the rumours were true there will be plenty of time…

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

Adrias acknowledged the orders given by Animal and readied himself for the deployment. He wondered what lied in store for them. Once outside he scanned the area, nothing. Just another starport, seen one seen them all.

“I don’t like this.” he said over the internal comms. “All that preparation and then… nothing...”

TAG: @Bravo @TheSilentInfluence (Mentioned)

 

IC: Elena Shan
Oak & Shan

Elena stood up when they landed and watched as Animal directed the others out of the ship ahead of them. She walked with Sargeant Oak out of the shuttle and felt very uneasy when she didn't see anyone. "No. I don't think there running late sargeant." Elena said as she looked around. "Keep your eyes open, and it's probably best to move away from the shuttle." Elena explained as she started to walk away from the shuttle.

She stood a few feet away and scanned there surroundings again.

Something's wrong.

Tag: @Bravo @TheAdmiral @Darth_Elu @Sinrebirth @Silvertough @Vehn

 

IC: Havah Jeth
Crew Lounge, Hunk of Junk, Hyperspace


The warning alert of the eventual arrival to their destination could be heard down the corridor. "I hate to break this all up, but we're approaching the Monastery Moon," Palso said. Interrupting the moment, although they were done. Havah was done.

"I'm in," Billy suddenly said.

"What?" Jim asked.

"I said I'm in," Billy said, looking between the three of them, "If you're going to go do what I think you're going to do, then you'll need someone like me to avoid getting killed. Like I said, you people have no idea who you're dealing with or what you're dealing with," he looked across all three of them.

"You shot me," Jim replied.

Havah shrugged at that, he wanted to shoot him. Does that mean he should sit out this mission? Besides, he shot Billy, struck Billy, bound and contemplated killing Billy, what was one measly shot compared to that? Meh, reaching up he pulled out a rag and dried his face.

"Are you going to get us out of hyperspace or just let us fly through the planet?" Billy replied with, avoiding the verbal jab.

Palso snorted and then turned to Havah, "Check on his ninja buddy, Tora. Make sure he's out cold," Palso turned to Winterkill, "You'll stay on the ship with the droids to make sure the ninja stays where he should. If he so much as moves, kill him. And no one gets onboard unless it's me or Havah," Jim then looked at Billy, "As for you, you're coming with us. You so much as breathe wrong and I'll shoot you."

Billy simply replied, "Hyperspace and planet?"

Palso rolled his eyes and looked at Havah who smirked, and then Winterkill, and then all three of them silently broke ranks to carry on their jobs. A quick trip back and he had confirmed the drug doses were on schedule and he added an extra stun blast to make sure this one stayed down. After he was finished he headed back to the front.

Havah had managed to squeeze by Winterkill as the alien stormed off and the ex-soldier took a seat in the Navigational & Communications seat (right rear seat, behind the co-pilot). It was odd, and Winterkill offered nothing in silent communication as he had left.

"Don't ask," Palso said to Havah's lingering unsaid question as the man sat down and strapped in.

"Exiting hyperspace, Captain Palso," Walking Library said from the co-pilot seat.

As the blue tunnel of hyperspace collapsed into straight star lines and then stationary stars as the planet of Belkadan snapped into place as the star lines disappeared and gave way to the stationary stars. Jim piloted the light freighter towards the larger planet's solo sand-swept desolate moon.

"How long will Tora be out?" Jim asked as he looked back towards Havah as the moon loomed larger.

Shrugging Havah made a clicking noise with his tongue, "Unknown humanoid species. Your guess is as good as mine. Honestly the cocktail I have him on to keep him sedated and the regular stun blasts are as likely to kill him as keep him asleep. I'm a pilot not a doctor, Jim." Rubbing his chin he conceded a point after that brief pause, "Being a spoon bender, Winterkill is still a good precaution." he simply stated the odd situation they were in.


TAG @Bravo ( @greyjedi125 for reference)

 

IC: Benjamin Jacob Waynes (DW-418125, aka "Face"), Jet Chan (TK-1245, aka "JC")
Abandoned Starport, capital city Salis D'aar, Bakura


[Helmet Recording...recording...recording....recording....]
Personnel: Stormtrooper DW-418125
Unit: Joker Platoon, 2nd Squad, Team C

• Active: Sergeant First Class Adrias Stark (E-11 Blaster Rifle)
• Active: Corporal DW-418125 (Face) (DLT-19 Heavy Blaster Rifle)
• Active: Trooper TK-1245 (JC) (E-22 Blaster Rifle)

​

Date/Year: Monday, Year 7975 (C.R.C. Dating System)
Time: 06:51 hours (military time; 24-hour clock)
Location: Planet of Bakura (Wild Space)



“I don’t like this.” Stark said over the internal comms. “All that preparation and then… nothing...”

"I second that," Face said, keeping an eagle eye on that grass field, "Sergeant, did you know if intel confirmed that this starport was swept before they deposited the cargo here?"

By "swept", Face meant a security sweep of the grounds. An abandoned starport could be a hive to any number of shadowy illegal operations, which had established long forgotten maintenance tunnels and sewage systems under the starport to easily move assets without being noticed. Worse thing military intelligence could have done was "take the word" of local law enforcement agencies to have secured the grounds before the Empire arrived in order to build a bridge of trust to a interested world in freely joining the Empire.

"Personnel are moving from security zone to shuttles," JC mentioned matter-of-factly, as he turned his attention back to the grassy field and distant patrols. This op was going quickly; boots had been down on the ground for just more then 5 minutes.


TAG @TheAdmiral

 

IC: Staff Sergeant Rusty Oak
Abandoned Starport, capital city Salis D'aar, Bakura



"No. I don't think there running late sargeant." the stormtrooper lieutenant said as she looked around. "Keep your eyes open, and it's probably best to move away from the shuttle."

Oak took a calming breath as he followed the lieutenant away from the shuttle. He had to take that quiet calming breath to steady his nerves as the unpleasant memories of the listening post on the Sentry Moon came back. as the lieutenant's tone and mannerisms echoed that fateful day......

He was one of the 15 Imperial Navy Trooper survivors (of 32 Navy Troopers and 6 Scout Troopers total) on a communications & sensor listening post deployed by the Darkest Night to the Sentry Moon during operations conducted by the 115th Naval Battle Group during The Battle for Lepsawn 1-9.

He had survived an otherwise hopeless situation.

Their otherwise simple temporary listening post operation was to monitor for enemy approaches on the backside of the moon orbiting Lepsawn 1-9. The Imperials were savagely attacked by natives in overwhelming numbers. No notice was given and seemingly no quarter to the Imperials, as the natives---who were being controlled as cheap security by mercenaries running a spice operation for the Circle Crime Family, had the primitive aliens "hooked" on spice---attacked from a network of underground tunnels that seemingly stretched for miles. Either by fate or just bad luck, the temporary listening post had been set up atop a jungled hill that happen to be above the nexus of this network of tunnels; it was like putting blood in the water for sharks once the mercenaries "let loose" their spice hooked security force to hide their spice operations.

The then Sergeant Oak had been left with a feeling of abonnement and a good dose of some form of Shell Shock, Combat Stress Reaction, Posttraumatic Stress Disorder, or combination of the three. An obsession to please and gain approval from former Chief of Security Cain Shinzon appeared shortly thereafter, which borders on the line of crazy.

Oak's heart raced for a quick second as Cain's heartless, cold face appeared before him.

Fragging Shinzon, Oak thought.

He could only hope the cold Moof-milker was dead by now. Hopefully he was unceremoniously disintegrated and what remains there were was eaten by some rabid animal on some Force-forsaken backwater crap hole of a world that no one would ever find.

And then his memory would be gone. Forever.

But no, it wouldn't. At least not for Oak. Shinzon would remain with him forever. And it would be that forever notion that would drive Oak to please the son-of-a-Hutt Shinzon with eternal praise, to always drive himself further and further, to be better and better. To be the soldier that Shinzon wanted Oak to be!

For a dead man.

Oak tightened his grip on his holstered DH-17 Blaster Pistol as the memory raged on in those moments.

Despite surviving the enemy attack that wiped out most of the initial listening post, leading the remnants of the outpost until reinforcements arrived as the highest surviving NCO, and conducting a counter rescue and later assault mission on the mercenaries lead by Shinzon and a handful of personally picked men (Oak being one of them), the former Chief of Security failed to recognize the then Sergeant Oak for anything above and beyond the call of duty. Any praise the former Chief of Security gave was minimal at best.

Oak didn't want praise. But he had sure hell didn't want to be ignored. He could have curled up in a ball on that jungle moon and cried away the battle or gave command over to one of the surviving corporals.

But no, he didn't. He soldiered on, kept the listening post operational, and rallied his remnant forces until help arrived. He forgot about his own safety and pulled others to safety. But, per Shinzon, Oak was just doing his job.

He tightened his grip again, feeling the handle of the heavy blaster pistol push into his gloved hand, no doubt leaving a mark on his hand for future inspection.

Per Shinzon, Oak was weak. Not worthy. A failure.

Later, Oak would be finally recognized by the new Chief of Security aboard the Darkest Night, Gotz Richter, for both his past accomplishments on the Sentry Moon and would be rewarded not only a promotion to Staff Sergeant, but also the Crimson Star.

But Shinzon would always be his chief of security.

Always.


*********

Oak looked around as the tense memory faded, noticing the Imperial personnel within the security zone being moved to the shuttles.

"A course Chief," Oak replied to the lieutenant, confusing the lieutenant with the former Shinzon for a moment, "You're right, sir."

He hadn't even known what he had said, when he added without a second thought a moment later, "Lieutenant, we have Imperial personnel on the move to the shuttles from the security zone. If your delegation doesn't arrive soon, we may be out of here before you can say hi to them."


TAG @TheSilentInfluence ( @Bardan_Jusik for reference---Oak never forgets...sir )

 

OOG: @Kalio_Dynkos has some DRL issues to handle at the moment (he notified me privately a few days ago). While he's given me permission to utilize his character until he returns, I'll try to do so as noninvasively as possible.

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

IC: Commodore Valentino Mazzanti & Chief Medical Officer Agnar Morana
Bridge, Darkest Night, high orbit over Bakura


"As you ordered," Morana said with the edging curiosity of a first year medical student mixed with the grounded experience of a well-traveled medical doctor, "I'll endeavor to keep this to your ears only upon my finished reports on the unfortunate patients' fates. And I'll instruct the medical staff I work with on this case to do the same. Although, could I ask a favor?"

Mazzanti raised an eyebrow, "Proceed...."

"Could you assign a security detail to the Command Medical Bay? I would hate to have eyes looking over my shoulders."

Mazzanti's eyes lit up with understanding after a long moment, "Ah, yes, Doctor Van Halfin. I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you, Commodore. Without further delay," he nodded in respect, "I take my leave."

After the chief medical officer departed, Mazzanti turned his attention back to the viewports looking out at space.

He sighed.

Waiting was always the hardest for operations like these. Another ensign showed up, handing him a datapad. He read it in detail, seeing it was the escape and approach vectors he had requested from Markova earlier. They had been delayed as it was standard Imperial protocol to double-check for unstable routes or other potential issues. Most of these checks were done by droids usually and were quite good in quickly finding calculation errors by organics that would prove deadly to the ship. Most of the time, these checks took less then a minute---he saw one check take slightly longer once in his career many years ago.

Well, mark that twice now in his career.

So why had Markova's options taken so long to be returned? Even per the droid results, her routes were perfect. So much so, the droid checked them over a dozen times with various simulations.

And it was the simulations that gained his attention. He raised an eyebrow.

Impressive.

Even the droid reported a flawless calculation and noted it in those words at the bottom of the report, adding all likely situations----in light of the galactic location and other political-military factors---were considered.

Flawless for a droid, yes.

But it was Mazzanti's job to ensure he had the best crew. And the best couldn't be defined by exterior calculations. Especially in the Unknown Regions. Markova had impressed him once already, had taken it to the next level for someone of her position. Had proved she was a step above the rest.

Now she had to prove she was better than the rest.

After returning the datapad, the ensign departed, leaving the commodore alone. He turned back to the viewport and waited there a long moment, his hands behind his back. He watched the civilian space lanes of traffic zoom past at a distance to either side of the mighty star destroyer, scanned the distant planet that was the focus of their attention here. He then looked across the great blackness that was outer space, looking to see something in that great void that mechanical sensors couldn't tell him.

Finally, without turning to the crew pits, his voice rang out gently, but with presence. You could have heard a pin drop in the dead silence that echoed afterwards throughout the bridge.

"Captain Markova, a moment of your time...." Mazzanti called out.


TAG @galactic-vagabond422

 

IC: Major Darius Walker
GenMess 1, Entertainment Deck, Darkest Night; high orbit over Bakura


"If you don't know the answer to that question, you really are as daft as you appear." Jingle stated with dour tone, although the grin on his face and twinkle in his eyes were clear indications it was not meant in that sour note.

Walker turned to the Zelosian---whom he had heard approach earlier because the mech leg---and cracked a smile.

The mech leg alien waved at his feet with a free hand as the new comer made a shooing motion.

"If it isn't the infamous Jingle in the flesh," Walker said, quite pleased to meet the often incorrectly labeled near-human species, "I've been posted here for nearly two years and here, finally, I meet the man. The legend. The master chef!" Walker laughed in joy for a moment before nodding to the serving tray, "Is that more warm coffee? You do serve the best, darkest, most basic and cheap dark roast coffee around these parts. People say it tastes and feels like the crappy one credit fill-ups at the local stores on a quickie-stop on planet, yet has that rich feeling of those expensive coffee shop label brands. And I have to say," the man said, "I have to agree."


TAG @Mitth_Fisto

 

IC: Winterkill, Billy, & Jim Palso
Cockpit, Hunk of Junk, Belkadan's solo and sand-swept & desolate moon; Belkadan Moon Monastery


Palso kept a keen eye on the pair of red illuminated handheld beacons (wands) below as he lowered the Hunk of Junk down into the docking bay below. Every now and then a stronger than usual gust of wind would come up and along with Palso feeling the fight in the control yoke as he struggled to keep it his direction, the already blinding sand storm across the forward cockpit transparisteel would become even more blinding, causing the faint outlines of the Moon Monastery structures to become completely invisible by a blanket of fast moving sand.

A few short moments later, the roar of wind and pelting of sand against the hull of the light freighter came to a distant howl above as the
Gray Tiger modeled YT-1930 Transport settled into the covered docking bay. From the cockpit, Jim gave a small two finger salute to the landing technician ahead of the transport with the two handheld wands, who gave the small salute back before disappearing through a door.

"Even scum and villainy have a code of honor," Jim stated quietly as he powered down the ship (but on a quiet standby for a quick restart and departure if the need arose), noting that even in the deepest, darkest criminal hives of villainy, there were basic statues of common help to be found among the ill repute. In this case landing help in a sandstorm.

"Library," Jim started to Walking Library as he flipped off the last few overhead switches as he turned to the rear of the cockpit where Walking Library sat along with Billy, "Clean off the exterior of the Junk and clean out the exhaust vents of all the sand that got in there."

"That is in my programming, sir. I'll gladly do it," Library responded.

"You will do it," Jim replied as he got up, adding as he departed the cockpit with Billy in tow, "Until I can trust you again."

"You can trust me, Captain Palso," the droid replied.

Jim stopped in the bulkhead, letting Billy slip past and towards the landing ramp, "Until you can remember who you are, Library," Palso shook his head, "I can't."

Without another word, Palso left, heading towards the landing ramp where he found Havah already to go with Bugger near him and Billy standing off to the side.

"Bugger," Jim said, "Take care of the ship. And keep Winterkill and Tora company. Keep her engines warm and ready to go in case we need to bug out of here."

The droid replied with beeps and whistles, where then Jim nodded to Havah who pushed the button to lower the ramp. Jim had his full set of clothing on, including his jacket and new hat. He kept his black sunglasses in a pouch on his belt. He dug into one of his pouches and retrieved his fingerless black leather gloves, putting them on.

"You expecting a fight?" Billy asked as Palso finished putting on the gloves.

Palso looked at the gunslinger and smirked, "Always," he looked over to Havah, "Keep to the rear, Jeth?"

With that, Palso lead the trio down the landing ramp and through the docking bay's door, stopping briefing to pay a landing fee to the white and orange P4T Protocol Droid standing at the outside of the door with a datapad and a HVAC Droid which had been modified with a steel box welded onto its top, that clearly looked like a security box for money. A lone MPF Patrol Officer escorted the pair of droids and stood behind them.

"Twenty credits, please," the P4T droid's robotic voice announced dryly, "Flat rate, all day use for the docking bay," the droid pointed to his smaller HVAC campion's top security steel box, "Please deposit the correct amount."

Palso dug into one of his pouches, counted out quietly the 20 credits, then deposited them into the steel box's open slit at top.

"Thank you," the white-and-orange protocol droid said, "Please enjoy your stay at the Monastery Moon."

Jim nodded and was off, walking through the semi-crowded corridors. He was in front, Billy in the middle, and Havah bringing up the rear, but almost besides Billy in reality.

"When do I get my guns back?" Billy asked.

"Ask Havah there," Jim said, glancing back as he went up a small flight of sand-covered stone steps and onto a slightly raised corridor running the length of the lower main bottom corridor; the raised corridor lead to shops and businesses positioned just above the shops on the bottom level, "He's holding onto them."

Billy smirked as he followed the man towards Aces' Club, "I'll need them sooner then you think."

Jim took a hard right and up another flight of sand-covered stone steps roughly halfway down the length of the level below them and then left a few steps later and onto the third level. He continued onward, moving through the crowds at a brisk, but steady and non-alarming pace.

Billy looked behind at Havah, "Best have my guns ready," he winked, "I'll probably need them here soon to save your Corellian hot head from being killed. And you for that matter."



TAG @Mitth_Fisto ( @greyjedi125 for reference)

 

IC: Lance Corporal Falen Duryn
Bakura

The Lamda shuttle landed, and Falen, along with the other members of Team A, sprinted down the loading ramp and took their positions looking out toward the twin landing strips. Falen, in contrast to Eyes, knelt on one knee behind a small rocky outcropping, his rifle slung across his chest via a hide strap. He instead brought a pair of electrobinoculars up to his faceplate, slowly scanning the distant treeline. A minute passed, and then another, all passing with barely a whimper of activity.

"Ditto.." Falen murmured into his internal mic, echoing Eye's assessment. Indeed, other than the mechanical clanking of the various Imperial walkers stomping about, the airfield was silent, deathly so.

"Got a decent zero on ya line of sight there Eyes, spot for ya until things get hairy.." He said, once more into his internal mic, taking the free moment to get comfortable behind the barely waist-high rocks. The rocks wouldn't provide any real protection from hostile ground fire, and with his shining white armor, it didn't exactly provide adequate concealment either. "Got a baaad feeling about this.."

Falen glanced around at his surroundings for a brief moment, before refocusing back on the treeline, a frown hidden behind his helmet. Nothing but flat ground all around. A defensible position it was not. He only hoped the transfer would get underway as soon as possible. A drawn out firefight would be disastrous..

Tag: @Bravo , @TheSilentInfluence