View Full Version : IC: Q:TU Imperials

4 November 2004, 10:23 AM
It couldn't get much worse, you decide, glancing to either side, as you are escorted by roughly fifteen white-clad imperial stormtroopers. The unquestioning, identical shock soldiers weren't much for conversation, you'd decided a while back, neither did they have much sense of hospitality. With a minimum of speaking, they'd ordered you out of your room and down this pristine corridor, to who-knew-where.

Then again, you reflect, it couldnt get much better either. To be a hand-picked operative for the galaxy-spanning empire was surely the fast track to promotion, or, at least, to fame and fortune...provided you honored the Empire's wishes. The power of this Empire was very apparent, here in the main corridor of the massive Imperial Star Destroyer, Animosity. As the assembled party proceeds, you pass several gray-clad ship crew members, as well as the occasional officer, in his olive-green uniform pressed into perfect creases, their odd looking caps adorning every head. The stormtroopers' feet fall, almost in unison, onto the polished black deckplates, to create an almost eerie sense of automation.

Now, the troopers turn you down a less-used hallway. The lights are still bright, but after a few more turns, you realize you'd be at a loss to navigate your way out of this labrynthine mess of corridors, and there are almost no people passing you by. Eventually, you stop at a door, identical to countless others in this part of the massive warship, but here, your escort chooses to stop, motioning for you to enter.

Almost as if it knew your intent, the door hisses into its recessed opening at the side of the wall. Inside, the floor slopes down from all sides of the square room, with long, narrow benches throughout the room, facing the center, where a squat, military style holoprojector sat, deactivated. Beside the holoprojector, a slim imperial officer stands, clad in a black uniform. As you file in, he motions you to take seats in the forst row of benches. Glancing to the doorway, you notice the stormtroopers are long gone. Those guys could be awful quick when they wanted.

Then, the Imperial officer begins,

"Good evening, I am Lieutenant Seldrin, and I'll be briefing you on your mission. Sector command is planning a raid on a known Rebel facility on Nethryl, a planet a short hyperjump away from our present location. Since the world is a law-abiding Imperial planet, with the exception of this small Rebel cell, Captain Karix does not wish to attack the installation from orbit, sending the locals into a panic and possibly testing their faith in the Empire. Also, this facility is located in the bottom of a large canyon, making a turbolaser assault a difficult proposition. Rather, he has requisitioned an additional squadron of TIE bombers from Sector command. In conjunction with our own bomber squadron, these ships will make a single bombing run on the target, then return to the Animosity which will immediately jump to hyperspace. The entire attack should take no more than twenty minutes. The news feeds will all attribute the mess to an out of control reaction at an illegal Rebellion lab, where they were attempting to make thermal detonators using a more powerful isotope of Baradium. The residual baradium from our explosives will only further support this theory.

"That story, however, is only partial fabrication. Imperial probe droids have identified this location as a secret lab facility, though it is unknown what is being researched. That's your job. Using a ship that will be assigned to you, your mission is to fly to Nethryl and land either at Corund City, the capital city, or in the forests near the canyon. Infiltrate the base and discover just what it is the Rebels are up to. You must bring back evidence to prove your findings. A sample of their labors, if possible, would be most useful to the Empire. If, for any reason, you feel our attack must be aborted, you will be supplied with a comlink that will broadcast on a scrambled, secure frequency, that only the Animosity will be able to decode. A communications officer will be monitoring your frequency at all hours, watchful for just such a transmission. Assuming that the attack is carried out as planned, you will lie low for several hours, until receiving word to leave, upon receiving this message, you will leave Nethryl and rendezvous with the Animosity at coordinates that will be supplied with your transmission. Are there any questions?"

4 November 2004, 05:27 PM
Questions? Of course I've got questions! But I think I'll hold off for now and see what the rest of these people have to say. Observe, gather information and analize, that's what the Colonel would always say. Senior Lieutenant Feln Poresh sat calmly as the mission briefing was complete. He stroked his chin with one hand, the other folded neatly across his chest, just barely covering the gleaming rank badge on his Imperial greys.

His cap resting on his knee, Feln caught his own appearance in the reflection of his datapad screen. His dark hair was cut short, more than was required by regulations, and his uniform crisp, his boots immaculately shined. Feln knew he was a rare sight in the Empire, his dark features causing heads to turn among the veritable sea of fair skins that comprised the Imperial Army. Most of his peers were all white-skinned, with noticable Core World accents. His Corellian drawl set him apart even further. Just how many brown-skinned officers did the Empire have anyway, he thought. A dozen? Two dozen, tops? Doesn't matter, I guess. If they don't like it, they'll have to deal with like everyone else.

Pushing aside thoughts of race and skin color, Feln glanced back down at his datapad, ignoring the fuzzy reflection of his own face. The mission seemed straight-forward. Insert on the planet, locate the Rebel lab, gain intel, extract. Simple. In other words, everything that could possibly go wrong, will go wrong. Feln had been on too many ops with such simple objectives to know that they would be anything but simple. If we insert in the city, we'll need suitable cover identities and clothing. Concealable weapons, too. If we insert via the forest, we can do some scouting first, then hit the objective when we're 100%. If they ask me, I say we insert in the forest. I never was too comfortable in cities anyway. Must be the farmboy in me. Raising his head, he scanned the room and sought whatever details he could about the people he'd be serving with.

4 November 2004, 05:57 PM
[OOC: Conflab! Double Post!]

4 November 2004, 05:58 PM
Senior Lieutenant Connor Sigel, House Pelagia, was not pleased to be where he currently sits. He had assumed this "meeting", as it was euphemistically called when he was tapped to attend had to do with the new round of long range patrol and interdiction sweeps that were scheduled to begin next month. When he had recieved the "brief" (if you could call it that) he was interested in the vague nature and the name "Star Sweeper", and had of course, accepted the 'invitation' to attend when the stormtroopers came calling to the temporary officer's quarters where he had been sleeping.
Connor was becoming more and more uncomfortable with the prospect of ground missions, and Rebels, and close combat.
I'm the Captain of a Patrol Boat^ for goodness sake... and a damn good one if I might add, but why do they want me doing this crap! he thought, nervously scratching his stubble.
He was a little nervous about the spit and polish types that are sitting around him... wishing he would have put a little more effort into his appearance.
Nevertheless, he raised a hand when the Lieutenant finished his spiel.
"Yes, I've got a question... I assume we'll be taking the Ardent*, excuse me, VTR-1127 as our team vessel for this... operation." he surpressed the eyeroll he usually used when addressing capital line officers when mentioning his ship. Afterall, patrol ships aren't technically designated with actual names, but Command usually indulged the notoriously eccentric long term patrol captains. Six months of almost nonstop patrol in mostly barren space will do that to a man. Besides, it's bad luck going out on a nameless ship.
Connor Sigel is a human male from Pelagon. About 5'9'' and 200 pounds, he has longer than regulation dark hair and blue grey eyes. His beard (technically against regs, but is another concession to long-term patrol officers) has been recently trimmed, Connor's sole preperation for the meeting. He has a barrel chest and lum gut, which when combined with his pale complexion suggest he doesn't spend a lot of time outside of his ship, nor a lot of time exercising when on it.
Connor is currently dressed in a Imperial Navy uniform with senior lieutenant insignia that looks as if it was stuffed at the bottom of a spacer's chest for the last year (7 and a half months, actually), with his equally crushed cap placed on the empty chair on his right. He is trying to maintain military posture but is failing miserably and looks decidedly uncomfortable in the brightly lit briefing room surrounded by stormtroopers.

[OOC: * No relation to Ardent ;)
^ As yet undertermined type
Another Q:TU to add to my growing empire!]

5 November 2004, 04:27 AM
Sargeant Jorzan Kast looks around and surveys the other members of the team. A man of about six feet, with black hair cut short, and a fairly dark tan, He is wearing armor, and has a blaster carbine holstered on one hip, and a vibroblade on the other. after surveying the team, He addresses the Lieutenant.

"Sir, if I may ask, What will we be assigned in the way of weapons and equipment? Since I assume this is a covert op, are we to be assigned concealable weapons, or will we be allowed to carry weapons openly within the rebel base?"

7 November 2004, 02:04 PM
As the Lieutenant closes his preliminary comments with an open-ended question, Bliv Engo responds silently, Just one, sir, when do we get started? Bliv, who has only been an “official” Imperial agent for a little over a week, is eager to further prove himself to his beloved government. Being that he is, undoubtedly, the lowest rank of the assembled group, Bliv initially had no intention of speaking unless spoken to, much less of asking a question, he was simply going to follow orders and take queues from the other, more experienced members, but, when one of them asked about the logistics of weaponry, Bliv couldn’t hold back his opinion.

“I’d think we’d just go in as natural as possible, and I’d think that’d involve carrying weapons…I’d be more suspicious of a seemingly unarmed group than I would a group with a bunch of openly holstered blasters.” With that, Bliv pats the Merr-Sonn Model 44 encased on his right hip. Then, hoping to quash any thoughts of him being a know-it-all, he adds, “But, that’s just my opinion…I’ll comply with whatever’s decided…”

Bliv Engo is a tall, gaunt human with close-cropped, light-brown hair and sideburns that line perfectly with his ear lobes. He has a long, oval face with deep-socketed, green eyes, a thin, rounded nose, and high cheek bones. There is a one-inch scar that runs parallel to the curve of his mouth just above his right upper lip. Aside from the scar, Bliv has no real identifying features. He wears a pair of dark blue slacks with a black, leather belt bearing a simple, dull-silver clasp; black, military-style boots; a loose, long-sleeved, white, high-collared shirt; an eight-pocketed (four outside, four inside), long-cut dark grey vest with a blood-red lining; and a neck-wrapped bandanna that matches the lining of his vest. He also wears a black, leather arm-bandolier on his left arm, and a black, leather pistol sling that rides on his right hip.

8 November 2004, 07:58 AM
"Sir, if I may ask, What will we be assigned in the way of weapons and equipment? Since I assume this is a covert op, are we to be assigned concealable weapons, or will we be allowed to carry weapons openly within the rebel base?"

Lieutenant Sledrin turns to regard Sargeant Kast, "After this briefing, you will have the opportunity to go to the ship's armory to requisition any supplies you may need. As far as what you are cleared to use, your guess is as good as mine, Sargeant, your assignment comes from offices higher than mine. As far as the concealability of your weapons, that is up to you. But keep in mind, as a secret lab facility, the rebels at the lab are probably few in number, and any odd additions to their ranks will not go unnoticed. My advice to you is to stay out of sight while on the premises of the rebel lab."

“But, that’s just my opinion…I’ll comply with whatever’s decided…”

"Of course you will", the Lieutenant smiles in a slightly-less-than-friendly manner, almost patronizing the new recruit, before continuing, "But as I said, you are not to make yourpresence known to the rebels. Is that clear? Any other questions before you are dismissed?"

10 November 2004, 05:23 AM
Xandin Sharis, more commonly known as "Agent Whitelight", nods slowly as he listens to the Lieutenant's breifing. Simple... straightforward... almost too easy. He releases an audible sigh, reclining in his chair and stretching his neck back to stare at the cieling. Pity these little shindigs never quite turn out as easily as they appear. As he listened to the conversation his cold metallic fingers ran thoughtfully across his chin. He turned to look at his team mates, inwardly smirking. Not much to look at, are they? Hopefully theyll be able to stay out of sight until weve collected the data we need. I would hate for this to turn into a bloodbath.

He raises a single slender finger, calling attention to himself. "Excuse me, Lieutenant. This may sound a bit.. overzelous... but I feel that often the truth can be more liberating than fiction. Allow me to explain." He stands, ceremoniously sweeping his arm across the assembled crowd. "If our findings prove to be just cause for the destruction of the Rebls hidden base, I could feed you real-time holoimages through our communications equipment, thus allowing you to create a more accurate newsreport that would be both defaming for the Rebellion and truthful. Furthermore, the destruction of a potentially dangerous installation would create gratitude in the minds of locals, and serve to increase the loyalty of this planet, as well as eliminate the necesity for secrecy. Sith... the bombers could even make a victory pass over the city once the report has been released. We could throw a gala event for the heroic cavalry of the 292nd bomber division, for their noble deeds in defending... you get the point." He pauses. "As you all know... the Rebels seem to have a knack for making sure that secrets dont remain hidden forever, and a coverup will simply lead to suspicion that will further damage our hold on the galaxy. If we are honest and truthful, we are ever more the heroes."

He takes a deep breath, and bites his bottom lip. "However, should there be insufficient evidence to warrant our attack, I would hold on to the fake newsfeed and make the run quietly. Always best to have a backup plan."

Xandin is of average height and athletic, his only truly distinguishing features being his long silver-white hair and striking blue eyes. He wears loose fitting black flight pants with a tight black shirt, that covers only to his shoulders, as well as a long black scarf, wrapped loosely around his neck. His bare arms are tanned and muscular, with a length of black fabric wrapped around his left bicep and a similar one around his right wrist, broken intermitently by small metal studs. The left forearm is covered in black plasteel, similar to stormtrooper armor, and emits the gentle hum of servomotors as he moves, apparently a result of cybernetic surgery.

ooc: enter "the whitelight".

Xandin Sharis
Imperial Agent: Whitelight,04
"Without law, peace and harmony would
be supplanted by anarchy and terror..."

10 November 2004, 01:45 PM
Feln looks about the room and listens as various questions are raised. Immediately suspicious of the two Imperial agents, he nonchalantly manuevers towards his fellow officer, a familiar-looking recon pilot, who, despite his rumpled and decidely non-regulation appearance, appears more than capable. Sitting next to him, Feln offers his hand.

"Captain Sigel, a pleasure to meet you. I am Feln Poresh, Imperial Special Operations. Your exploits are not unheard of, even among us ground-pounders. It is an honor to meet you."

Leaning over and whispering close into his ear, Feln quietly makes his feelings known to the portly shipmaster.

"Be wary of the ISB spooks, espeically that one with the long white hair. I've worked with these types before, and they usually have their own agenda. Watch your back at all times."

Smiling, as if he had just told a joke, Feln leans back in his chair gives the patrol captain a brief nod before standing and moving away. Passing by Sergeant Kast, he gives the armor-clad soldier another casual nod, of the type common among fighting men. Feln recognized a fellow warrior in the man, and nothing needed to be said among them. Casting his glance towards the two ISB agents, he makes a concerted effort to keep his expression neutral. It figures they would send a couple of spooks along. Can't let the troops go 'unspervised' now, can we? I'm not sure about the pirate-looking fellow, Mr. Engo. That's got to be some kind of alias. But that white-haired one gives me the creeps. He's got propaganda officer written all over him. I wouldn't trust him as far as I could throw a space cruiser. Turning his attention back to the briefing, which seemed to be concluded, he awaits further instructions.

(OOC - nothing personal Tao, just trying to keep 'in character' - SpecOps guys naturally mistrust spooks):)

10 November 2004, 02:02 PM
"Captain Sigel, a pleasure to meet you. I am Feln Poresh, Imperial Special Operations. Your exploits are not unheard of, even among us ground-pounders. It is an honor to meet you."
Connor smiles and takes his hand in a reasonably firm handshake,
"Likewise Lieutenant Poresh. I seem to recall reading your name in one of the "tactics" trades. Something about a building assault in the Mid-Rim, I believe. Well, whatever it was, the writer seemed to have quite a high opinion of you."

"Be wary of the ISB spooks, espeically that one with the long white hair. I've worked with these types before, and they usually have their own agenda. Watch your back at all times."
Connor gave a low chuckle and nodded. "I remember the political officer onboard my training frigate, he was COMPNOR, and I've had to deal with these types when tractor subdued pirates for pickup... pains in the ass all, but then, one must make sure these things are all "documented" after all." he said in a quiet voice, winking at the last part.
He nods at Poresh's smile and they part company. Connor picks up his datapad and runs some inventory numbers. Lessee, I've got that StarAnvil in the armory that I could use, then just the standard loadout... I'll just have to check out some more power packs from the ship's armory... maybe another charger to cover everyone's weapons. He notes this, and surveys the room, paying careful attention to the ISB types.

10 November 2004, 02:09 PM
"However, should there be insufficient evidence to warrant our attack, I would hold on to the fake newsfeed and make the run quietly. Always best to have a backup plan."

Hearing out the exotic looking agent, Lieutenant Seldrin eventually nods in his direction.

"I'll submit your suggestion to my superiors.", he nods meaningfully toward a junior officer, who hurries out the door to comply with his orders, "I'll let you know before you depart wether your suggested measures are to be enacted, if so, I'm sure we can supply you with a holorecorder."

Smiling, as if he had just told a joke, Feln leans back in his chair gives the patrol captain a brief nod before standing and moving away.

Noticing the man's movement, Seldrin continues, with a slight grin, "It seems Lieutenant Poresh has taken the liberty of dismissing the group, so with that, I'll forward notice of your arrival to the quartermaster, you'll be needing some equipment, no doubt.

10 November 2004, 04:22 PM
Taking note of Lieutenant Seldrin's sly remark, Feln gives the man a brief, but hard stare. Damnable desk-jockey. How I'd like to take that smug smile and wipe the deck plates with it. I'll wager he's never seen a lick of combat, except maybe in a training holo. Noting that group is now 'formally' dismissed, Feln ponders this new assignment as he makes his way to the exit.

Patting his standard Imperial sidearm, he mentally runs through a list of needed equipment. My pistol will serve well, but I gather a good rifle and a knife or two may be in order. Something small, that would fit under a jacket perhaps. An E-11 would be a good choice, light yet concealable. I'll suggest every take a nice-sized field pack as well. If we do a bit of scouting around the Rebel lab, we can find cache point and retrieve any gear we find necessary as the mission unfolds. Casting a glance at Captain Sigel, he spots the man jotting down some notes of his own. And if we have a ship available, that would be a good place to store any assault gear, should we need it. Hmmph, what am I saying? Of course we'll need it. Covert infiltration seems the furthest thing from this group's abilties. Give me a squad of stormtroopers, a few detonators and orders to kill, and that lab will be history before the locals finish their breakfast. Taking a moment to place his cap back upon his head, Feln asks one of the troopers mounting guard for directions to the quartermaster's office.

10 November 2004, 06:09 PM
The guard stares blankly at Feln for a few seconds, then seems to snap back into reality. Pulling a small device from his hip, he punches a few buttons then hands it to Feln. Looking down, you familiarize yourself with the object. On the display is a string of directions. First, 25 meters right to a secondary turbolift cluster, then three decks down...

...after what seems like an eternity, Feln finds, to his surprise, that he is among the first to arrive at the imposing blast door marked: "Quartermaster". Directly across the neat, gleaming corridor, is a similar door marked: "Armory". Both doors are open, locked into position by a set of catches whose powered down positions would seperate the two rooms from the corridor by durasteel nearly a meter thick. Inside the quartermasters, a austere looking, overweight, middle aged man sits at a workstation. Not wearing the usual garb of an imperial noncom, which he must surely be, he sports a plus-sized pair of baggy cargo pants, pockets bulging with components he is using presently. As he stares through a magni-viewer, he turns a small device in his hands, attempting to repair it.

All Feln can see of him beyond that is the top of his balding head, covered only by a forlorn half-ring of grizzled gray-black hair, cropped short in what would have looked like a military cut, had the hair been more uniformly distributed over his head.


Inside the door marked "Armory", there is a similar scene, apparently, the Animosity's commander allowed some leeway in his regulations. In the door, a thin man walks all around a stripped piece of heavy weaponry, an E-web from the looks of it, suspended in a repulsor field. In his hand, he holds a hydrospanner, which he occasionally makes use of, removing an acuator housing here, a thermal dampening manifold there...

The man has not many features other than his slight build and the unkempt, but clean ponytail that hangs behind his head, pulled back by an elastic band to keep it out of his eyes. He, too looks stern, though it doesnt seem to be his usual attitude, as he is currently scowling at the weapon in front of him, aparently dissatisfied with something the data goggles he is wearing are telling him.

10 November 2004, 06:21 PM
Lieutenant Sigel follows Lt Poresh to the Armory, stopping at the head to quickly relieve himself and straighten out his uniform.
While there, he notes the state of the armory staff, much to his satisfaction.
"Good day Chief, we are in need of your services." he said blandly.

11 November 2004, 09:50 AM
Xandin nods at the Lieutenant's comment, then lowered his head slightly, as he drew the attention of others in the group. He blushed slightly, and gave a whispered, "Yessir," as he once again took his seat.

When the meeting had reached its end, he began to absentmindedly roam the halls towards the quartermaster's chambers, asking for directions when necesary. He felt decidedly out of place; young man, barely out of the university, without any formal combat training, amidst seasoned stormtroopers and officers. Yet this place, this "Star Destroyer" seemed so familiar. It was the closest place he could call home since he graduated. Since his father died.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He cautiously enters the room, not really wanting to disturb the quartermaster's repairs. Xandin waits patiently for the man to address him, and when he finally does, the young agent intorduces himself.

"Good afternoon, mate. I'm Xandin Sharis, of the Star Sweeper team." He allows just enough time for his introduction to settle in before leaning slightly against the counter, and gazing at the contraption the quartermaster is fixing. "Our team will require some infiltration equipment... security kit, data-spikes, code cylinders. You know, the usual. So, how can you help me?"

Xandin Sharis
Imperial Agent: Whitelight,04
"Without law, peace and harmony would
be supplanted by anarchy and terror..."

11 November 2004, 11:12 AM
double post-ish... please delete.

11 November 2004, 03:20 PM
Rostek: The thin Imperial at first does not respond to you, apparently reading something on his data goggles, after a few moments, he looks up,

"What? Oh...ok, hold on a second, I'll get you anything you need."

Lifting the goggles off his head, you see his pale blue eyes, which disgustedly glare at the E-web. Turning off a power converter squatting beside the repulsor field generator, he sets down his tools and removes his grease-streaked overcoat. Thumbing another switch, the E-web lowers slowly to the floor, where, as soon as it hits, the bolt mechanism snaps open with a pronounced chak!. Surprised, the man inspects the weapon again,

"Well of all the...dammit, that'd explain alot..."

Mumbling something else under his breath, he palms yet another switch and a thin monitor slides out of the counter that separates you from the rest of the armory and the noncom. A keyboard also slides out of the edge or the counter in front of his repulsor chair. Eventually, he taps at a few keys, and looks up at you. For the first time, you realize.

"Okaaay, now what can I do for ya?"

Tao: The heavyset man peers up at you, eyes adjusting from looking through the magni-viewer, gruffly, he addresses you,

"Humph?! Oh, yeah, that patchwork team I heard about...", abruptly, he interjects, "You any good with powered armor breadboards? Eh, I doubt it...". At this, he sets down the tiny device and rises from his station, grumbling softly to himself.

Eventually, he hauls his husky form to the edge of the counter that seperates the goods from the visitors and, keying some unseen control, retracts the edge of the counter.

"C'mon in, son. I'm not real worried about you taking my stuff unnecessarily. But if oyu do decide to steal something tell me what it is, so I can get the item numbers. Once I sign it out, its the Empire's problem, not mine... Anyway, what is it you're looking for? Infiltration gear? Hmm...well I'm not sure what you're gonna do with code cylinders without any programming in them, less still at a Rebel base, but they're in this here bin...".

He reaches into a metal bin, withdrawing a handful of the tiny metallic tubes, depositing them in a cloth pouch at his side. As he continues to talk he leads you further from the door, into the labryinthine mess of bins, shelving, and drawers that contained myriad components, garments, and who knew what else that the graying man knew like the back of his hand...

11 November 2004, 03:51 PM
He smiles innocently, and shrugs his shoulders as he follows behind the quartermaster. "You just give me what I need. I'll worry about how to use it, eh?" He looks over the code cylinders, selecting one that will suite his purposes. Always best to have a backup plan... He pauses abruptly. "Hey, mate. Any chance of getting a high quality fake identification before we head out. Something along the lines of information broker... Maybe with ties to the Bothans..." He grins. "If we get caught itll be impossible to convince them we're allies, but its better that they think we're double agents than Imperials... double agents are at least half ally."

ooc: can i assume i am okay for the security kit as well? i will probably have to open some doors in that rebel base. and even though my disable dev. is pretty good, i dont like taking unnecesary risks...

oh, and i know data spikes dont even officially exist in the rpg... mentioned them for flavor...

11 November 2004, 04:42 PM
Listening to the banter in the armory with amusement, Feln patiently waits as the ISB agent haggles with the supply chief over fake identification. This guy is something else. Hopefully he has some useful tech skills to offer, because right now he's just getting in the way. Focusing on the supply chief, Feln rattles off a list of everything he deems essential for the operation.

"Excuse the interruption Chief, but I know exactly what I need. I'd like a SoroSuub ELG-3A pistol, a Merr-Sonn Q2 hold-out piece, a disguise kit, the best you've got, some non-descript clothing, preferably dark colored, a non-powered knife with a boot sheath, and most importantly, a pair of boots with quiet soles. And if you have some blank ID holders, that would be great too. I've got some decent 2-Ds I can paste on to them for some quick false IDs. A few blank datacards would be nice as well."

Stopping for second to mentally review the list in his mind, Feln puts a hand to his chin.

"I'll also require a full field assault kit, camo fatigues in local woodland pattern, secure comlink, magnetic compass, an E-11 blaster rifle, several days of field rations, a condensing canteen, and good pair of electrobinoculars. If you've got a blast vest that will fit under normal clothing, throw one of those in there as well. That should do it. Anything else I might need I can simply steal from the locals or from the Rebel lab."

Feln, aware that most of the group members are probably already questioning his motives, offers a bit of sage advice for the rookies on the team.

"Look people, we need to be unseen, unheard and unnoticed once we hit the ground. This is what call a "sneak and peak" in SpecOps. Just don't go grabbing any gear that'll make you stand out."

Thinking to himself, and not really caring about the opinions of the rest of the group, Feln reviews his infiltration proceedures, hoping he hasn't missed anything. Recon area, identify sentries, observe lab staff proceedures, locate infil point, gain access, locate evidence, exfiltrate unseen. Geez, this is going to be a nightmare. We're going to need some solid intel to pull this off. We might have to 'question' one the perimeter guards, or bag one of the lab staff when he goes into the city for supplies. Aware that he's been daydreaming briefly, Feln turn back to the supply chief.

"Any problems with that list chief? If there's anything you need to expedite things, let me know. I've got a 22-year old bottle of Corellian double brandy with your name on it, if I can get this stuff without hassle."

11 November 2004, 05:44 PM
Connor also found the ISB boy's actions a little comical, Rookiees, ah well, if he doesn't die, he'll have learned some valueable lessons.
After Poresh gives his request's, the Captain of the Ardent smiles.
"I like a man with taste, Lieutenant. Lessee, I'll need the personal equipment I checked in yesterday... that'd be ID #192441 Echo, you know, the DL-44, Vibrodaggar, survival knife, ammo bandolier, utility belt and the combat jumpsuit.
In addition, I will follow the good lieutenant's example and request some civillian outdoor gear, hunting type stuff. I'll also take the standard field kit with the standard 20 m syntherope coil, grappling hook, glowrod, survival blanket, 3-day supply of concentrated field rations, condensing canteen, 4 luma flares, magnetic compass, e- tool, medpac, and stuff a security kit and a couple extra medpacs in the pockets too. As for additional weapons... what's that heavy Stormtrooper One SoroSuub made that the Rebs like so much... ah, yes, the Heavy Tracker 16. I'll take one of those if you've got one sitting around."
He takes off his hat and scratches his head. Turning to Poresh, he says fairly quietly. "I was thinking of putting down in the forest and humping it to a good vantage point... do you think we could use one of those spotting lasers... the big targeting ones so we could paint up a soft spot for the bomber-birdies? I've read that they can improve a bombing run's accuracy by 38 percent if they use one of those things."

12 November 2004, 05:49 AM
Xandin, raises an eyebrow as Feln interupts. Sithable ill-mannered gutterrat. He sighs as he listens to the soldier's shopping list, allows the two men to make requests, and then turns to them.

"Umm... just a suggestion, but either of you two thought about how we're going to get inside of the base? Our job isnt just going to be outdoor surveilance... a pobe droid could handle that. We need to get inside and learn exactly what the Rebels are working on in that lab of theirs..." He pauses, his voice still calm and soft. "And, if we do a good enough job, we should be able to crack some of the other Rebel units in their cell... Rebel sympathizers, suppliants, etcetera. We could be the difference between destroying a single insignifigant Rebel base, and unravelling an entire terrorist network and saving thousands of lives."

He shrugs. "Whatever... I'm going to go see if I can get the readouts from the probe droid scans." He turns to the quartermaster. "I'll be back for my stuff... have it ready in an hour, please." He turns back to the others and nods his head. "Gentlemen..."

He leaves and heads to one of the tech stations, where he attempts to bring up the readouts from the probe droids initial scans of the base.

Computer Use Check
Hey... not sure how we handle these... do i roll or do you? either way, id like to take 20 (if possible) on this one...
Modifier - +10 (plus any applicible bonuses for the equipment aboard the star destroyer...)
Looking specifically for structural weaknesses, possible entrances / exits (gun emplacements, possible weapon caches, routes of approach, high power output locations (generators / possible computer banks / comm arrays / labs)

12 November 2004, 06:10 AM
As the ISB guy leaves, Connor picks up his exchange with Poresh.
"Fun guy... It seems the stereotypes come from somewhere."
he shrugged. "He does bring up a fair point though. Although we probably need to scout the sucker first, then find the weak points for entry. Never go into a hostile situation based soley on the info gathered from a probe droid."

[OOC: Btw, in that last post of mine, when I said, "field kit" I meant assault kit, although the mentioned contents speak to that. Just a backpack with seven kgs worth of gear.]

12 November 2004, 06:36 AM
Casting a smirk at the departing agent, Feln gives Captain Sigel a knowing wink.

"Yeah, these ISB guys are fun to mess with. Its pretty obvious he's never done this kind of work. Does he just think we can waltz right past their sentries and just say 'Hey, we're looking for a secret Rebel lab. Is this it?' I don't know about you, but I sure as hell don't trust a droid with 'outdoor surveiilance'. Whatever scans he comes up with will probably be useless an hour after. I doubt the Rebels keep their men on fixed patrols."

Rubbing his hand with his chin, Feln dismisses all thoughts of the ISB spook. "I like your idea of using a spotting laser. Maybe we could cache it and paint the base asfter we get whatever intel we can. Should be nice close out for the mission. And humping to the lab sounds good, but I'm wondering if we shouldn't take a quick peek into town, and see if we can drag any info out of the locals. In the meantime, let's check this gear out and stow it. I'd like to check out your ship while we're at, Captain. I know you long-haulers like to keep some refreshments around. Maybe a quick drink and a few tale tales before we get started?"

12 November 2004, 07:05 AM
And humping to the lab sounds good, but I'm wondering if we shouldn't take a quick peek into town, and see if we can drag any info out of the locals.
Connor nods, "Yeah, sounds good to me. I'm sure one of our ISB types has "RebDAR", and pick up some kid stupid enough to listen to "Red Shift Limit" in public. Well, maybe the local command has some ideas, sometimes they manage to put some competant people in charge."

In the meantime, let's check this gear out and stow it. I'd like to check out your ship while we're at, Captain. I know you long-haulers like to keep some refreshments around. Maybe a quick drink and a few tale tales before we get started?"
"Fantastic idea, Lieutenant. I'll call the ship's astromech, he'll bake up a few pastries in the autochef and unlock the liquor cabinet in the gun closet. I've got some very good Cassandran Chohol, and I believe there is still some 7-year old Corellian whiskey in there somewhere." he fumbles around for his comlink. Finding it, Connor thumbs it on and adjusts the frequency.
"Niner, would you mind tossing some of those pastries in the autochef, and cracking open the liquor cabinet." he says. A few beeps and burbles emit from the comlink. "No, I'm not going to bed, I've got a guest-" a long hoot and a quick whistle interrupt him. "No, not that kind of guest" he says, looking at Lt. Poresh quickly, "You know I would never be that unprofessional with my own ship, Niner- so don't adjust the lining or put in the 'Qosis' disk... that's right, just the refreshments. Thanks buddy. Out."
Connor laughs a little. "Oh, that little fella and his sense of humor... "
He then turns to the counter to await his stuff.

[OOC: For those of you that didn't notice, "Qosis" is an anagram of "Sisqo", and since I left them off my char sheet, Connor speaks and Reads Binary, and Speaks Huttese]

12 November 2004, 11:29 AM
Following the others into the quartermaster's, Jorzan addresses him "And i'll be needing a field kit, some camo fatigues, some civilian clothes, a medical kit, and 2 medpacs. I'll also need some good demolitions gear, and a good hold-out blaster."

14 November 2004, 12:08 PM
Maris Croft, a female ISB agent, follows the group to the quartermaster's. She purple eyed woman kept quiet during the briefing and during the initial discussion with the quartermaster. Ah, the banter of a group. How disgusting! I'd rather do this mission on my own. She stands near the exit of the room, at the back of the group, and waits her turn to speak with the quartermaster. Finally able to get a word in, Maris questions the Chief, "You wouldn't happen to have any combat gloves? I'd also like a field kit, a couple medpacs, and a utility belt," continuing, Maris pats her knives, "I've got the weapon department covered."

Maris Croft stands about 5'4" tall, is slim, and is physically fit. Her skin is fair, her shoulder lenght hair is black with purple streaks, and her eyes are purple. Maris wears a form fitting black jumpsuit and carries a quarterstaff and two knives.

(I modeled Maris after a picture I saw on SWAG. The picture can be found here (http://www.swagonline.net/view.php?photo_id=628&screen=15&action=search&selectcat=girl&date=&type=search). Please ignore the lightsaber!)

14 November 2004, 02:40 PM
Flushing slightly, Bliv nods submissively and echoes, “Of course…” Well, this guy’s no exception to the Imperial Officer mold…can’t say I’d be any different in their position though…anyway, I thought this was supposed to be an undercover infiltration, not just breaking and entering…it’ll be like the opposite of me and the boys sneaking out of school…but, again “of course,” at a much higher level…the Rebels aren’t just going to take away the holovid for a week if we’re caught… Bliv’s thoughts give way to the strange-haired individual’s spiel, which he agrees with wholeheartedly but will certainly not mention openly after the consequences of his last outburst, then back to the briefing officer, Lieutenant Seldrin, as he protocols the white hair’s remarks and dismisses the group to the quartermaster for arms and equipment.

Leaving the briefing room toward the middle of the pack, Bliv makes his way to the armory by following indolently behind different members of the group. He trails someone to for a while then hangs back, feigning business with his datapad or simply tying his boots, until someone else that he recognizes passes by, and the cycle continues until he finds himself arriving at his destination on the heels of a striking, because of looks as much as her gender, female agent. After she’s made her needs known, Bliv huddles forward and, with a half-ass salute, addresses the supply Chief: “Sir, I’d like a standard assault kit, obviously with enough rations to last the mission, a mid-sized condensing canteen…I get thirsty…” Bliv offers a quick, casual smile, but continues without allowing for acknowledgement. “Oh, and I also want a small security kit, a pitch or camo cover-all, and two survival knives…yeah, that’ll be plenty…thanks…” Someone else will undoubtedly take way too much, so if I forgot anything there’s bound to be one of those thorough officer-types that knew one of us “pseudo-Imperials” would forget something…heh, the system works…

With his order placed, Bliv turns to leave, then realizes he’s not sure what to do. Leaning in toward the female he’d followed, Bliv, in a low voice so not to be overheard by any of the higher-ups that might look down on him for being “unprepared,” says, “So, uh, what do we do now?”

14 November 2004, 03:02 PM
Maris sighs and rolls her eyes. This guy must be confused. "We wait until the 'officers' tell us what to do. This is my first group mission and even I know you wait for the officers to lead. You must be a new recruit."

While waiting for her equipment, Maris looks Bliv over and notices the blaster on his belt. "You know how to use that thing, right? I assume that you have some combat training." She points to her knives, "I prefer to use melee weapons because they're quieter than blasters. If this is a covert op, I'd suggest getting a blade, just incase you have to kill someone quietly. Blasters have the annoying habit of alerting people to your presence."

After giving Bliv a lecture on weapons, Maris offers her hand, "I'm ISB agent Maris Croft. And you are?"

14 November 2004, 06:35 PM
"We wait until the 'officers' tell us what to do. This is my first group mission and even I know you wait for the officers to lead. You must be a new recruit."
Ignoring the non-verbal cues and slight condescension, Bliv replies as if he’s having a street-corner conversation: “Yep…green as a Gamorrean…” Bliv flashes a toothy grin, but seems to go unnoticed. Geez…what I meant was do we just stand around here, go back to the briefing room, if I can find it, or what…I guess being female in the Imperial system has made her a little feisty…I wonder if… Bliv’s thoughts are interrupted as the purple-streaked female, to his surprise, initiates further conversation.

"You know how to use that thing, right?…Blasters have the annoying habit of alerting people to your presence."
“Yeah, I’ve used it a time or two…and I already put in for two knives, but thanks for the advice, I’d never really thought about it like that…”

"I'm ISB agent Maris Croft. And you are?"
Bliv shakes her hand just as he would any other agent, knowing that if he let up she would be offended. “I’m Bliv Engo…and I’m not even sure what I am…just a servant to the Emperor…I turned over two Rebel ships as a civilian, you know, just doing my part, and the next thing I know I’m sitting in a briefing room…” Bliv stares beyond Maris for a few seconds, as if memorized by something over her shoulder, then continues. “Anyway, nice to meet you Maris Croft…” There’s another, longer silence during which Bliv concentrates on one of the many identical tiles the make up the floor of the room they’re in. After what’s surely at least two minute’s time, Bliv looks up at Maris, begins to say something but has the words catch in his throat briefly as he notices her vibrant purple eyes, and then, glancing over as if looking at something in a bin, manages to utter, “so, that stuff you said earlier about killing people with blades being quiet and all…is that just textbook talk, or have you done that before?”

14 November 2004, 06:43 PM
Maris notices Bliv's unease, and smiles to herself. This guy sure is green. She watches as he stares at the floor for a while, then he looks at her again and tries to say something. My, my! He sure does have a problem around females. But finally, Bliv says something and Maris struggles to hear him. Oh, so he want's to know if I've killed anyone. Might as well tell him the truth. Maris replies to Bliv's question, "Yes, I've killed quite a few people actually. Some I've killed with my knives, but most of the time I like to use my bare hands." That should rile him up!

15 November 2004, 06:01 PM
Bliv gapes at Maris in dumbfounded near-disbelief as she explains that she has indeed killed before, and, seemingly, often. A long, descending-pitched whistle escapes Bliv’s mouth after a few seconds, and, contorting his face into a strange mix of smiling and smelling something awful while rubbing his chin with his left hand, says, “That’s, uh, that’s some résumé…” There’s a slight pause as Bliv drops his hand and adopts a more reflective façade, then continues, “…how do you…how do you manage without some kind of a weapon?” With this, Bliv makes a two-handed choking gesture, and, simultaneously, sticks out his tongue as if being choked himself. Wow…this is some woman…I wonder if she’s one of those stealth assassins the spacers used to talk about…or maybe a bounty hunter…she doesn’t seem typical Imperial…the clothes don’t quite scream “official” and she has a way about her…like she answers first and foremost to herself…not sure if that’s the mentality for a mission like this, but she certainly seems capable…I’m not sure I want to be in front of her if things turn sour and she has to bail without anyone knowing…ah, that’s just hypothetical rubbish…the Empire wouldn’t have her aboard if she couldn’t be trusted…I guess I’ve got more jitters than I’d thought…

15 November 2004, 08:19 PM
Feln immediately falls in love with Captain Sigel's suggestion.

"A fine idea, Captain. A full stomach and a warm buzz will surely help us rest tonight. That is, if command gives us the opportunity. Surely they realize we'll need some time to prep your ship and get our gear together. There's bound to at least one more briefing before we get underway. Maybe you should comm the Lieutenant and give him a heads up. The others should accompany us as well. As officers, it is our duty to play host."

This Captain is devious. He may appear disheveled, but I sense a fine tactical mind. I like him already. Noting the interplay between Mr. Engo and Ms. Croft, Feln eyes the two agents with slight suspicion. Three Imperial soldiers and three Imperial agents. What an interesting team they've assembled here. I wonder what skills they each possess. Watching in amusement as Mr. Engo fumbles around the purple-haired agent, he tries unsuccessfully to supress a grin. Though not as suave as other officers of his peer group, Feln had never-the-less had no difficulty in finding female companionship. His dark looks and athletic build made him intriguing to many females of his species, but he seriously doubted the female agent would find him interesting. She's definately attractive, but dangerous. She wears her weapons with familiarity. She has the look of an assassin about her, a wetworks agent. I would do well to keep my back from being exposed around her. Making sure to keep his eyes from wandering, Feln turns back to his new comrade.

"What say you, Captain? Shall we entertain our guests, or do we get right to work?"

16 November 2004, 04:58 AM
As soon as Xandin had examined the readouts of the initial probe droid scans, he loaded them to a datacard, which he then stored in a pocket pressed against his chest. He closed down the terminal and returned to his room, taking a wandering course through the ship's labarynthian interior. Maybe I should keep my mouth shut more often, he thought, turning a corner. I dont seem to make a lot of friends with my opinions... even if they are occasionally valid. He arrives at the small quarters that had been assigned to him and punches in the code on the small control panel. The thick durasteel plating slides away with the whoosh of decompression, and Xandin steps inside.

Sitting heavily on the small bed, Xandin checks his equipment. He turns his old hold-out blaster over in his hand. He had been meaning to get a more powerful gun ever since he bagan working with the Imperials, but it hadnt seemed right. He wasnt technically a member of their army, or their navy, or even the ISB. He was a simple civilian contractor, assigned to investigate political repurcussions of Rebel activities. To put out sparks before they grew into fires. Although the job had initiated behind a desk, he had grown more and more accustomed to field work. Wandering Rebel-incited mobscenes, examining records of potential sympathizers, gauging the general feelings of the populace towards their Imperial government. He hated to admit it, but the people werent entirely happy.

He sighed placing his pistol back in its holster under his left arm. These poor people. Ignorant. If they only knew what it was like before the Empire. The buerocracy. The backbiting. They complain because they do not have the 'liberties' they desire. If only they knew the costs of such 'liberties'. The dificulties they create. He sighed as he thought of the Wookie slave camp he had recently visited. Although, not even I am completely in favor of all the Empires policies, there are always merits. Before legal slavery of certain species was available, anyone could be enslaved through black market channels. Who are we to say that slavery has grown worse in the last decades? In fact... with the Imperial slaving regulations, Im certain that it has, in fact, grown better for the slaves... He closed his eyes, and continued to attempt to convince himself that it was true.

In game actions
Downloaded probe droid scans to datapad
-(you may send any information from those to me in e-mail if you would like- fallenangel_tao@hotmail.com)
Checked weapons and equipment.

16 November 2004, 06:23 AM
Captain Sigel liked Lt. Poresh. Smart, consumate soldier, mind of his own... that's a refreshing one. Connor was thankful he'd found another officer to work with on this mission. Without Poresh, it would be just him, Sgt. Kast, and a bunch of ISB types. Not a chance at that nightmare.
Connor laugh's slightly, "Well, realization and caring are two differant things. I'll see if the good Lieutenant as anything in mind tonight." he thumbed the frequency dial on the comlink.
"Yes, Lieutenant Seldrin?" a muffed sounding monosyballic respose quickly escapes from the comlink. " Ah good, it is you. This is Captain Sigel, and I was wonder what our operational schedule is." another muffled emittance, this time with an obvious question mark at the end of it. "Yes, that's right, when we launch? Tonight, tomarrow. Tomarrow would be much more reasonable, since we need the techs to work up the ship, and it's pretty late. We could get some sleep and head out in the morning." a muffled groan and some short sentances. "Huh, oh, I see-" Connor puts his hand over the feciever- "He's checking." he said to Lt. Poresh. "Ok, well, you just get back to me on this channel, Lieutenant. Out." Connor shrugs.
"Well, no reason not to go to the ship, we'll need to be there one way of the other."

[quote]The others should accompany us as well. As officers, it is our duty to play host."
"What say you, Captain? Shall we entertain our guests, or do we get right to work?"

A sign follow's SIgel's smile. "I suppose you're right. Well, hopefully the ISB types won't toss me in the brig for having alchohol aboard. It is an inactive unit anyway, they can't technically arrest me for that." a wink a the lieutenant.
"I believe we should make the preliminary steps for both entertainment and work, by getting our new "friends" to the ship." he begins walking toward the agents and Sgt Kast. He notices the little exchange between the lady ISB type and the green as Hutt-snot Engo. She seems to have just said something that may have just scared the hell out of Engo, who made a choking gesture. Well, I guess what they say about the women of the ISB is true. Chips on their shoulders are large enough for them to bludgeon you with..
Hs also noticed the general discomfort Engo displayed around Agent Croft. I can't really blame him. she scares me. Although, it seems it could just be the fact that she's a good looking lady. No, don't look, that's what got you tossed in the brig last time you worked with ISB he reminded himself.
"Lady and gentlemen, the Lieutenant and I insist that after you retrieve your gear, we away to the Ardent and partake in some, oh.... mission prep." he said. Sgt Kast would no doubt get the referance to the "pregame snort", although he had his doubts about the rest.

16 November 2004, 01:28 PM
Maris takes delight in Bliv's obvious surprise. She listens as he tries to respond to her statement. I might as well have some fun with this guy. Maris smiles at Bliv and grabs his shoulder, and says with a wink, "Well, I have many ways to kill people. It wouldn't be good for you to know how I do it, because if I told you I'd have to kill you." She laughs and thinks, This greenhorn is fun to mess around with!

In the middle of thinking up a new prank to pull on Bliv, Maris' thoughts are interupted by Lt. Poresh and Capt. Sigel. Ah, what do the soldiers want? She turns her purple eyes to the newcomers and listens as Poresh proposes a trip to the Ardent. Looking at the Lt., Maris says loud enough for the Chief to hear, "I'll go with you, but this damn quartermaster is slow in getting my equipment." Turning to Bliv, she jokingly asks, "Are you coming? I might teach you a thing or two about combat if you tag along."

16 November 2004, 06:28 PM
Surprised by Agent Croft's acceptance of the invitation to share drinks, Feln supresses a grimace. Curse it, I'm neglecting my duties as an officer. These people are part of our team, whether I'll like them or not.

Addressing the group, Feln turns about and bows slightly.

"Forgive me for not introducing myself properly. Occassionally we officers have a tendency to get ahead of ourselves. I am Lieutenant Feln Poresh, Imperial Special Operations. It is my honor to serve with you."

Well that was pretty pathetic, el-tee. Way to come off as some stiff-necked admin puke. Maybe a few drinks will help ease the tension between us all. Though it seems the Captain feels the same apprehensions as I do. Feln notes that their white-haired companion has gone off on his own. Not a team player, huh? Rubbing on hand on his chin, which had collected a fair bit of unseemly stubble over the course of the day, he snaps himself out of his reveiere.

"It seems our white-haired friend has decided not to stick around. Perhaps we should comm him and invite him, though it doesn't seem as if he's the social type. Captain, we follow in your stead."

Feln extends one arm out, allowing the Captain and the rest of the group to move on ahead of him. A humble appearance earns trust quicker than barking out orders with these civilian types. And this way my back remains guarded. Casting a subtle nod towards the Captain and Sergeant Kast as they pass, Feln falls in at the rear.

17 November 2004, 08:37 AM
"It seems our white-haired friend has decided not to stick around. Perhaps we should comm him and invite him, though it doesn't seem as if he's the social type. Captain, we follow in your stead."
Sigel barks a laugh, "Once again Lieutenant, you seem to be right on the money. Alright, everyone follow me to the ship, it's a couple levels down, and I'll call our friend Mr. Sharis." Connor begins walking towards the lift cluster, and thumb's his comlink on, through the ship's comm system. "Mr. Sharis, this is Captain Sigel, the rest of the team is gathering at my ship, in the foreward docking bay, for some pre-mission prep, and we thought that we should let you know that you are perfectly welcome to join us, just meet us their if you're interested."
he finished his sentence right as the group got to the lift.

17 November 2004, 10:05 AM
The group finds they have the docking bay pretty much to themselves, as they make their way across the slightly less pristine deckplating toward the Ardent. Nearing the ship they see several mottled brown lumps near where the base of the ramp would touch the deck. Inspecting the packs, the realize they contain what is the standard issue gear fo rthis mission: field packs, Imperial style. Each pack contains:

1 - Sleeping unit: resembles a sleeping bag on a small but thick matress, requiring two energy cells (provided), this unit has a built in thermostat, adjustable by the occupant.

2 - Condensing canteens
10 - day's worth of ration cubes in a variety of (still bland) flavors
3 - emergency flares
1 - emergency beacon, tuned to imperial steer-clear frequencies
1 - magnetic compass
1 - multitool
1 - Glowrod
1 - comlink
25 - meters of synthrope, w/ grappling hook and launcher
2 - medpacs
15 - sq. meters camouflage netting
10 - sq. ft. tarp (brown)
1 - pair, macrobinoculars

Of this, the multitool, glowrod, comlink, rope, medpacs, and macrobinoculars are secured to a utility belt, made of high-stress polymer material, folded atop the pack. The pack itself is a durable, external frame rucksack, colored various shades of earthtones, predominantly brown. The frame is made of a tough, black, nonreflective material, that a sharp tap will reveal is not metal.

Beside the amassed supplies lies a simple flimsiplast note from Lt. Seldrin indicating that items not covered by these kits will arrive in 6 standard hours, enough for everyone to meet and greet, as well as catch up on any eating or sleeping that you may feel the need to do.

17 November 2004, 01:07 PM
Xandin Sharis lazily scrolls through the recon droid's data, rolling over as his commlink gets his attention. The voice is not entirely familiar, but he knows it must be one of the soldier types from his team. He shuts down the datapad, slipping it into his jacket pocket. Might as well join them, he thinks, still seated at the corner of his bed. He raises slowly to his feet, walking towards the indicated coordinates. As he passes a squadron of Stormtroopers, he is once again reminded just how out of place he truly is. Had his father still been alive, Xandin probably would have never seen an Imperial Star Destroyer on the inside. He probably never would have trained alongside of Imperial Security forces. And he most certainly would not have ever risked his neck to take down some renegade group of political dissidents. Funny how the galaxy's problems can seem so far away. Until one day... they're right in your living room...
He takes a deep breath as he enters the landing bay. He tries to clear his head, and focus on the mission, forcing his father's ghost to the darkest recess of his mind. The time for mourning had long past. This mission would hopefully bring them another step closer to an end to this ridiculous Rebellion.

17 November 2004, 05:44 PM
"Well, I have many ways to kill people. It wouldn't be good for you to know how I do it, because if I told you I'd have to kill you."
Bliv is so taken by the persona standing before him that, for a split second before she breaks character and laughs, he actually believes that Maris carries secrets that can only be bought with your life. For the Emperor’s sake, Bliv, are you really that naive…not that Miss Croft here is a cuddly bantha doll, but come on…get a hold of yourself…although, she is touching your shoulder…ah, control Bliv…there may be time for that later…

Adding a subtle chuckle to Maris’s outright laugh, Bliv points down to his holstered blaster and says, “If that’s the case, I think I’ll stick with this…for now…” Bliv now dons a full smile and stares in Maris’s general direction, trying to focus on her while appearing as if he’s looking at something beyond. He hears voices in the background, but doesn’t really pay them much mind until one of them becomes more pronounced and offers an invitation for “mission prep.” He’s about to ask Maris if she’s going when she, after accepting the offer and lightly badgering the quartermaster, beats him to the punch.

"Are you coming? I might teach you a thing or two about combat if you tag along."
Bliv’s mouth inches wider as an uncontrollable wry smile forms on his face. He bows slightly in his Maris’s direction, and says, “I look forward to anything you might be willing to share that doesn’t involve my untimely death, Madam Killer…” Now that’s more like it…this is turning out to be a lot less stuffy than I’d thought…if someone would have told me last month that I’d be doing “mission prep” with my commanding Imperial officer and a purple-hared assassin of some sort I would have questioned their sanity…

After one of the more important-looking members of the team introduces himself quite formally as Feln Poresh, Bliv gives a right-handed salute/wave that is conversely informal, though not meant to be patronizing or offensive. He makes no introductory reply, assuming they’ll be plenty of time for that during the forthcoming “prep.” As the group begins to move out, Bliv finds a spot behind Maris, still a bit superstitious concerning her abilities.

Once they enter the docking bay, Bliv immediately notices the laid out equipment. He brightens for a second, wanting to go to the pack like a child to a gift, but realizes that probably wouldn’t be looked upon highly, so he goes through the supplies dully, perhaps looking too uninterested. Huh…no overalls…I guess I could make due with the tarpaulin, or just put away my bandanna and fasten up my vest…red probably isn’t a good sneaking-around color…so, six hours…that should be plenty of time to tie one on…assuming, “of course,” that this “mission prep” is what I think it is and not actually some roundtable discussion about objectives and strategery… Not wanting to make the first move, Bliv continues fiddling through his pack, waiting for, presumably, the captain to invite everyone aboard.

17 November 2004, 07:41 PM
As they arrive at the ship, Connor sees the packs and note.
Picking it up and reading it aloud, he says "Well, that was very nice of him, wasn't it. Very well, we've got six hours then. Everyone, shall we come aboard?"
Just then, the ship's red and grey R2 unit trundled down the ramp, tootleing to itself. In rolled to a halt a few meters in front of Connor, who had been making for the ramp. Zoo-BLAT, the droid exclaimed.
"Well, I'm sorry I didn't specify how many guests, I'm sure you'll have no problems making more rolls." Connor replied, a slight tinge of amusment in his voice. Bwanh-bwanh-bwook the droid quickly replied. "As a matter of fact, yes, that is your job for the time being, the ship is still a deactivated unit, so unless you'd prefer to spend some time shut down in the recharger, then you've got nothing better to do." Connor shot back. Twoodle-up, bwahn-bwahn said the droid, shaking it's dome. "Oh, you think that's pretty damn funny, don't you? C'mon, let's go. Stupid smart mouth astromechs." Sigel muttered, then, more loudly "Your lucky I don't have the heart to wipe your memory, you little punk."
The droid twittered sharply, as if shaking off the threat as idle, which it of course was. Oh, that little scamp... human brains aren't the only ones addled by a long haul patrol Connor thought.
"Ok, let's go." Connor said, following the droid up the ramp.

18 November 2004, 05:19 AM
Xandin Sharis entered the hangar bay quite a ways behind the rest of the group, and made no noticable attempt to overtake them. He watched from afar as they went through their packs, and when he had come within a dozen meters he raised a hand and smiled. "Hey guys. Sorry I'm late." His smile widened at the sight of the supplies. "Nice to know that quartermaster's earning his pay..."

He shoots a look at the others, and smiles almost sheepishly. "Hey, I want to apologize for being so... uptight... earlier today." He ran a hand through his long white hair. "I guess you could say I've been through a lot lately, and sometimes I prefer to just lose myself in my work." He pauses for a moment, scratching the back of his head. "And I guess I dont generally get much social interation around the office... just me and a couple dozen data-analasyst droids. Not quite what I'd consider the best of drinking buddies. It'll be nice to work with real people again." He casts a quick glance at the astromech droid, and winks apologetically. "No offense of course."

As he talks it becomes obvious that its been a long time since he's really openned up to anyone, and he still seems somewhat reserved. His apology seems genuine enough. Whatever is causing his former aloofness and depression, seems to have receeded at the moment, though it can still be sensed, if vaugely, somewhere beneath the surface.

18 November 2004, 01:22 PM
“I look forward to anything you might be willing to share that doesn’t involve my untimely death, Madam Killer…”

Ah! So he does have a sense of humor. She smiles at him once, before returning the Lt.'s greeting. Returning his bow, Maris says, "It is a pleasure to meet you Lt. Poresh. I am ISB Agent Maris Croft." Then, she follows the Captain as they travel to the Ardent.

As she walks down the corridors, she notices that Bliv is walking behind her. Does he not trust me? I probably scared him a little. Maris walks in silence following the Captain to the docking bay. As they enter the bay, Maris notices their equipment. So the quartermaster finally got his act together. She grabs one of the packs and begins inspecting the contents. Good, looks like all of this stuff is top of the line. We'll need good equipment for what we're doing.

After a few moments of inspection, the Captain invites the group into the ship. Maris walks up the ramp and stops at the top. Her purple eyes scan the area, making sure there is no danger. Satisfied that there is no danger, Maris waits for the group to board.

21 November 2004, 06:29 AM
Xandin nods at the invite, saying nothing, and accompanies the others aboard the ship. He waits for the others to be seated, and takes a seat in the lounge, leaning back a little too casually for an Imperial agent, and stretches his arms out along the back of the seats. "So, mates, whats on the agenda?"

21 November 2004, 07:13 PM
After the expected invite from the captain, Bliv begins making his way toward the ship. More or less ignoring the white-haired member’s awkward apology, he thinks to himself, This look like a much nicer ride than the one me and the traitor used to run guns with…but it looks a lot more…um…”used”…still, it’ll be nice to be back aboard a smaller ship…these giant capital ships feel too much like planets…I like to feel in the floorboards that I’m out in space…

Bliv has made his way three quarters up the lowered ramp and is about to lackadaisically enter the ship when he notices Maris parked at the entrance with a look on her face that makes Bliv a little uneasy. Having already decided he was going to use her as his cue on what to do, he eases up behind her, this time for no reason other than leaving the ship’s entrance clear, and says, in a near-whisper, “Hey, is, uh, everything alright?”

27 November 2004, 12:43 PM
“Hey, is, uh, everything alright?”

"Yes, everything is fine. I was just checking the ship, making sure there wasn't any danger. I'm pretty sure that we are safe here." Maris stops scanning the room and glances at Bliv. "But, I have been known to make mistakes," she adds mock seriously.

27 November 2004, 04:10 PM
"Yes, everything is fine. I was just checking the ship, making sure there wasn't any danger. I'm pretty sure that we are safe here…but, I have been known to make mistakes.”
Bliv wrinkles his nose slightly, scratches the top of his head with his right index finger, and looks quickly from side to side, as if double checking for danger, then replies, “Okay, well, let’s hope this isn’t one of those, I’m sure few and far between, times when you’re wrong…” With the same hand he’d been using to scratch his head, Bliv makes a “right-this-way” gesture, flashes Maris a toothy grin, and says, “So, shall we?” The thought of this place being dangerous never even entered my mind…either this Maris is very cautious or very paranoid…or maybe just plain untrusting of all officer stiffs…these fellas seem alright to me though…especially if there are drinks…free drinks…

27 November 2004, 04:45 PM
“So, shall we?”

"Yes, let's go." Maris allows Bliv to lead her to the drinks. This guy's alright. I've got to learn more about him though, just incase he double crosses me. Deciding to make some small talk, Maris asks, "So, Bliv, where are you from?"

27 November 2004, 05:48 PM
"So, Bliv, where are you from?"
For a split second, Bliv thinks of saying, “Someplace I’m sure you’ve never heard of,” but then decides that could be taken as offensive, a proclamation of ignorance if you will, and, not wanting to wind up on Maris’s bad side, instead says, “A podunk settlement on Morvogodine…but I got out early and never went back…how ‘bout you, what corner of the galaxy did you call home?” I hope she doesn’t think I’m just some bumpkin farmboy now…I should have lied, but, somehow, I think she’d know…hell, maybe she’s already scoped the file on me and is just testing me…that’d be awful sly, but, as far as I know, I wouldn’t put it past her…

28 November 2004, 05:11 AM
Xandin strides up the entrance ramp, and takes a look around the interior, less than impressed by the aging ship. His curious nature leads him to wander a bit, checking out her features. Finally he turns to the captain. [b]"Nice little ship here. She 'fully equiped'?," he asks, nodding towards the small bar area in the ships lounge.

28 November 2004, 02:45 PM
At the agent- Xander, or something-'s repeated attempts to be social, Connor suppresses a shudder, and looks to Poresh and Kast for moral support with a helpless glance.

Originally posted by Tao
"Nice little ship here. She 'fully equiped'?," he asks, nodding towards the small bar area in the ships lounge.
<"What a doof..."> whistles Niner.
"Haha- I have no idea what you're talking about... the Empire's ships are dry, after all" Conner says nervously. "Just kidding of course... this ship is inactive, and so the keeping of liquor is legal, of course."
Niner tootled, <"I assume you'll be hiding the good stuff, then... I'll drag out that keg of lum from the hold."> the droid started to roll away, then quickly turned. <"Erm... it's under the box of spare power couplings isn't it... could I get some help... or would you prefer these ISB mouth breathers start drinking the Chohol?">
Connor laughed nervously... "Niner, remember your manners-" his voice dropped to a barely audible whisper, "One of them could understand you, after all... Lieutenant Poresh, Sergant Kast... would you mind joining me in the hold to retrieve some refreshments for our non-military guests, my stocks are a touch low." he says. Turning to the other occupants, he says:
"I wouldn't recommend touching the storage area in the gun cabinet," indicating the open closet with what appeared to be a liquor cabinet in the bottom that was sitting near the knee-high greel wood table that functioned as a makeshift bar. "The force field needs to be unlocked by a retinal scan. The pastries are done, and I believe there are more cooking in the autochef. So feel free to get a warmup glass of water and a pastry, and I'll be right back with some suitable beverage."

29 November 2004, 03:47 AM
Xandin chuckles at Niner's comment. "Ignorant little droid, eh? Lucky for you I'm not vengeful, mate, or youd be getting an accidental memory wipe." He pats the droid on the head, staring coldly into its little blue sensor 'eye', and turns toward the captain, his voice taking on a serious tone. "The lum will be fine... Im not a big drinker anyways."
He watches them go, and turns to look at the female agent and her new 'friend' (if it can be said that women of her type have 'friends'). Feeling slightly uncomfortable at the notion of being a third wheel, he looks back towards the soldiers leaving towards the storage area, and begins to follow along. As soon as he catches up, he turns to the soldiers and nods back towards the two agents behind him. "Am I the only one thats having some trust issues with the fem that will be accompanying us on this little jaunt?"

29 November 2004, 08:20 AM
Niner froze in his tracks, and gave a low whistle...
"Did I not warn you?" Connor said. he turned to the annoyingly (OOC: No offense intended Tao ;) ] persistant white head guy and said "I doubt you could get rid of that personality... I think he's stored backups of his program all over the place... and a few subroutines buried in there deep so that he can find it all." Connor failed to mention the hard backup reboot he had installled... no need in mentioning that.
"No, I'm not particularly worried about those two." indicating Engo and the female agent, "but I'm not particularly keen on leaving them alone in there... would you mind keeping an eye on them for me... the lady didn't seem to like the idea of coming aboard, which usually isn't a good sign." Connor had managed to keep his annoyance out of his voice and mannerisms. Hopefully, by convinceing this guy to act as a buffer between the military and Intel types, he could keep both groups from eventually killing eachother or double crossing each other.

29 November 2004, 08:30 AM
Cocking an eyebrow at the interplay between the captain and the white-haired agent, Feln manages to keep his grin suppressed for the moment. As soon as the agent is out of earshot, he turns towards the captain, allowing his smile to at last form.

"Well met Captain. I assume that you wanted Sergeant Kast and myself here to discuss something with us that doesn't involve the ISB? You're worried that their agenda will conflict with the mission?"

Feln appraised the portly Captain once again. Though with each passing moment he appeared less and less like any Imperial officer he'd ever met, his respect for the man grew none-the-less. He'll never command a flagship, but he will command the respect of his men. I don't suppose you could ask for more.

"I'm sure Sergeant Kast will agree with me that the mission is our top priority, not the political manipulations of that lot."

29 November 2004, 08:28 PM
[OOC: Sorry Tao, we're just kinda assuming you took my request :P ]

"Well met Captain. I assume that you wanted Sergeant Kast and myself here to discuss something with us that doesn't involve the ISB? You're worried that their agenda will conflict with the mission?"
Making sure that Xandin was out of earshot, Connor answered.
"Well, yes... that and the droid suggested I get some capable assistance in removing the keg of lum from the hold... he isn't fond of ISB types." Connor said, the R2 twittered and then, on the mention of 'ISB' he blatted a strawberry. "Indeed... Well, I'm happy to know we're all professionals here. The white head guy strikes me as a journalist or something... not intel. He seems to be sincerely trying to get on our good side; not, of course, that I intend to bring him into the fold entirely. A civvie- especially a COMPNOR civvie- has no place in a combat zone. We should be able to handle the mission fairly well- with the assistance of the spooks. Like it or not, they do have certain skills that we lack- plus the bonus for command that they actually enjoy doing the dirty work. I would have prefered a Special Missions army squad to ISB, but then that's the idea. They're more politically reliable. Could you help me with this?" he asked, lifting the heavy plasteel box with the couplings. "Ok, Niner, grab the keg..." the little droid spun in place, and ejected a static suction cup from it's back. The cup neatly attatched itself to the keg, and Niner dragged the large metal barrel out from it's position. The droid then extended an appendage that looked strangely like a... tap? It seems obvious to those of you around the Captain that this was no ordinary droid.

30 November 2004, 03:09 AM
Xandin raises an eyeball, and shrugs. Turning around slowly, he strolls back into the lounge. Not really feeling much like interupting the two intel agents, he takes out his datapad and begins leafing through files on the planet which they will be visiting.

Gather Info (+7 +-any applicable bonuses/penalties)
looking for things on political climate, recent news (especially rebel/uprising related), etc.

15 December 2004, 09:16 AM
After everyone hs had a chance to talk, drink, and finally take a nap, the group wakes up refreshed and ready for action (OOC: in other words, everyone now has full VP/WP if you didnt already.).

Outside the ship, next to the backpacks, sits much smaller piles of specialized equipment. None of the piles are marked as to who got what, but after a few moments, it was easy to tell based on what they had requested. One addition to everyone's pile was a standard issue E-11 blast rifle.

For Lt. Poresh, there was a big pile. His requested ELG-3A and the Q2, looking like a stunted version of the former. A disguise kit, with everything from make up, to contacts, to fleshy blobs that could be attached to the face to look like wrinkles, tentacles, gills, or any noumber of things. All in all, a very impressive assortment (OOC: mastercraft +1). Also there was a black overcloak with hood, long enough for his body, while not so long as to brush the ground. A few blank datacards and ID holders rounded out Lt. Poresh's loadout.

In Connor's pile, there was his requested DL-44, a small vibrodagger, a combat jumpsuit and three large heavy metal crates. Inside each of them was roughly one-third of a mobile targetting laser. Taken individually, They wouldn't slow anyone down, but one person would have a tough time moving the assembled machine, much less travel with it.

In Sargeant Kast's pile, there was only a Merr-Sonn Q2, identical to Lt. Poresh's, and a demolitions kit (OOC: materials for three scratch built 5d6 explosives, +2 to check).

All alone, for Maris, there was a stunning testament to Imperial workmanship. A pair of combat gloves, but anyone familiar with weaponry could tell they were special. Made from real traladon-leather, they could have been considered highly fashionable on a hundred different worlds. But, upon picking them up, she realized they must pack a punch greater than standard combat gloves. Also, she noticed a tiny electronic unit in each one, apparently, the weaponsmith on the Animosity was worth his salt...(OOC: Mastercraft +1, also as a free action, activate stun mode, DC 15).

For Bliv, there was a security kit, as well as a light-absorbing shadowsuit...a highly advanced form of the black coverall he'd requested.

Finally, for Xandin, there sat a flawless (since the imperial government made the REAL IDs) identification for one, Arga Trekkhana, human. The attached credentials indicated he had ties to several influential Hutt families and was a first-rate intelligence source for the slug gangsters.

Also, Xandin's datapad brought up information about the Nethryl system. Fairly typical of an imperial world, it had standard atmosphere and gravity, and the political scene was fully in support of the empire. Apparently the Rebels were only using the planet as a lab site, not a political battleground...

16 December 2004, 05:09 AM
Xandin awoke from his nap and checked his supplies, glad to see the requisitioned gear in proper order. He tucked his false ID into his pocket, and tucked his true ID into his boot. He grabbed his pack, pulling it off to one side, and sat down lightly on top of it, waiting for the others to arrive.

Gyp Ryol
31 December 2004, 09:41 AM
[Screen wipe to: The office of an Imperial general. A very severe looking man, aged about mid 50's, sits behind the desk.]

The Imperial general sitting behind the desk has a long face that seems well suited to a frown. A large hook nose juts forward menacingly as he reads over document files on his computer. A pair of half-moon glasses seem to perch precariously on the bridge of the general's large nose. Suddenly, a small spot on his desk glows blue, then springs into a small hologram of Lt. Seldrin.

The general removes his glasses and places on his desk as he turns to the hologram. "Lt. Seldrin. Report," he snaps, as if the lieutenant has interrupted something important.

The miniature version of Seldrin salutes. "General Relef, sir. The strike force has been equipped and will be leaving at 0830, Courscant time."

The general nods curtly. "Very good, Lt. Carry on." The small blue Seldrin salutes and wavers out of existance. General Relef leans back in his chair, putting his fingertips together. He remains in thought for a few moments, then picks up his half-moon glasses again and resumes his perusal of his documents.

24 January 2005, 09:43 AM
After a short nap, the assembled team wakes up, in the Ardent, refreshed (good sleep is rare on a star destroyer! :)). And, after washing up and putting on a fresh change of clothes (possibly the last for a while...), you all get set to go.

Though Connor is certainly an able pilot, the Ardent must still bow to Imperial Naval protocol, so the crew finds themselves watching from the cockpit as the ship is gripped by the massive docking bay tractor beam. The operators slowly but skillfully lift the ship, then lower it out of the maw beneath the destroyer. After a few moments, the ship lurches slightly and docking control comes over the comm,

"Animosity Control to Ardent, control of your craft has been returned to your guidance systems, have a safe flight, and good luck."

Moments later, your NavComputer chirps with received coordinates. Nethryl's location appears on the screen and you're ready to jump. Moments later, the stars extend to starlines as the Ardent outraces light...

[OOC: the nap = full vitality and wounds, you'll be in hyperspace for about 1.5 standard hours, then Gyp can take over.]

25 January 2005, 03:31 PM
Maris wakes up early, feeling refreshed and ready to go. That could be the last good night sleep I'll have for a while. She climbs out of the bed and stumbles over to the refresher. Turning on the sonic shower, Maris strips off her sleeping clothes and steps in. Oh, this feels good! Last shower I'll have in a while. The shower rids her body of grime and refreshes her mind. Maris stays in the shower a few minutes longer than normal, and then she shuts it off and steps out. Grabbing her clothes, Maris pulls on the tight jumpsuit and exits the refresher.

Better get stretched. I don't know what could happen today. Maris clears out a small area in her cabin and prepares to exercise. She stretches and then practices with her weapons. She goes through the motions, revelling in her bodies power. I've honed my body my whole life. These are the times I can prove my worth. Maris continues practicing for ten more minutes, then finally finishes.

Deciding to socialize with the rest of the team, Maris grabs her new combat gloves and puts them on. Top quality. The Empire knows how to equip its soldiers. She sheathes her knives and exits the room in search of Bliv. I need to have some more fun with him.

25 January 2005, 06:26 PM
After several drinks, very little talking, and a lot of listening, Bliv manages to push presumptions of miffing Maris to some far corner of his somewhat-spinning brain. Man…this, uh, this is goooood stuff…I bedder get to sleep though, or, uh, I’m gonna miss da mishen… Without a word, Bliv takes his leave of the group and finds a remotely comfortable spot to pass out.

Though his head is lightly throbbing, Bliv feels more rejuvenated than he has since boarding the ominous Star Destroyer. I guess the drinks allowed for a more sound sleep…maybe I should make a habit of that… Despite all efforts to contain himself, Bliv laughs out loud at this thought. …yeah, being drunk every night would be a very bad way to stay alive…I seriously doubt Maris would put up with a drunk on the team…I don’t even think I’d stand for that…

Bliv does a simultaneous stretch and yawn, followed by an almost violent shaking of his head, and disembarks the ship to gather his things for the coming trip. Immediately upon looking in the direction of the equipment, Bliv notices the previously missing requested coveralls professionally folded next to a high-grade security kit and a rifle with much more muscle than he’s used to handling. Feeling as though he’s just been given a Birthday gift, Bliv grabs all his gear and retreats back to the ship to strip down to his essentials and try on his way-better-than-he-expected new duds. Before pulling it on, he does take a few minutes in the ‘fresher to splash his face with cool water, relieve himself, and wash his hands.

After making a few choice poses in front of a mirror, trying out his new suit, Bliv ventures out of his quarters to find out the others are doing only to notice that the ship is no longer docked, but out in space. Now that was some smooth flying…at least the trip to the mission should be easy…huh…well, I wonder where Maris is…I hope she isn’t mad at me…especially since I can’t remember why she would be…

Rounding off a corridor into the belly of the ship, Bliv finds himself in the same room as Maris, who looks considerably put-together, eager. He manages a shy, half-mouthed smile, waves, and says, “Hey…uh, morning…you sleep well, you look ready to go…”

26 January 2005, 09:19 AM
Xandin awakes with a start, sweat clinging tenaciously to his brow. He closes his eyes, consciously fighting to slow his breath and calm his nerves, struggling desperately to fight off the images of his nightmare. He could only remember short flashes, images, sounds. A flash of lightning. An explosion and burst of flame. The tear forming in the corner of his eye as he watched someone falling into an abysmal chasm.

He shook his head roughly and lowered himself to the floor, tossing his shirt aside and draping a white towel across his shoulders. His head still throbbing he walked towards the fresher, passing Bliv and Maris on his way there. He gave each a half nod, and an awkward smile. "Good morning..."

26 January 2005, 09:43 AM
Connor fell into a dreamless sleep, as per usual and awoke refreshed seemingly (to him, anyway), moments after he fell asleep.
In the galley, he fixed him self two pieces of Tanaab white toast and a glass of fruit juice, then proceeded to the cabin for flight prep and takeoff.
"Copy tower, this is Ardent, we are in the green and ready to disembark." he said into his headset as he plopped into the thicker than regulation padding of his captain's chair.

Gyp Ryol
30 January 2005, 12:42 PM
[Camera wipes to: A starry field of space.]

Rapidly deccelerating out of hyperspace, the Ardent (http://www.lucasarts.com/products/galaxies/main.html#vt49) zooms by. The sleek lines of the crusier dimly reflect the starlight around it, making the patrol ship seem slightly like a ethereal phantom.

[Camera pans, following Ardent. As it does, the planet Nethryl comes into view.]

Nethryl. By and large, Nethryl looks rather drab and unassuming. Shades of brown and grey dominate the planet's surface. Small, dense, and dark cloud groups float lazily across the planets suface, suggesting brief, though violent, storms. Both of the planet's poles are covered in pure white ice caps. Small seas dominate the southern and western hemispheres.

[Camera cut to: Cockpit. Connor, Feln, and Niner are present in the cockpit.]

But whatever beauty that could be found in the planet is drowned out by Niner's beeping and wooping. Connor looks over concernedly at the R2 unit. Feln, who had ridden with Connor in the cockpit, asks, "What's the matter with him?"

Connor checks the indicator lights before responding. "Niner says that our communications are being jammed."

Feln tenses up, prepared for anything. "Jammed? By what?"

"From what I can tell from the sensors, it's coming from some kind of massive land based source," answers Connor. He sighs, and looks out the viewport at the planet. "So now what?"

31 January 2005, 06:16 AM
Xandin shakes his head. "Is it safe to assume that is what the Rebel's were building?" He pauses, a smile spreading across his face as he chuckles to himself. "Well... mission accomplished, lets go home."

Gyp Ryol
31 January 2005, 05:48 PM
Niner woops and blats at Xandin. A geological readout of the planet pops up on one of the ship's monitors. The Ardent's sensors have picked up a large deposit of Seryllium ore on the planet, a mineral used in the production of some higher end comm jamming equipment. It would seem that the concentration of Seryllium ore on Nethryl is so high that it affects ships in the vicinity of the planet.

31 January 2005, 07:03 PM
Connor arches an eyebrow at Xandin, then looks over the readout.
"Well, I'll be damned... that planet must be pretty well made of the stuff.
You'd think this would be something they would tell us before sending us in, especially after giving us these nifty- and now totally worthless comms. The big boys are going to have a hell of a time trying to coordnate a bomber strike now.
They'll still be able to see a laser painting the place, but they won't be able to correct. We could use the laser to signal them, if anyone happens to know any in action comm encryptions suitable for the task. I haven't been briefed on the new protocols, so I'm out. Anyone else?" Connor said, bringing the ship to the appointed waypoint near the planet.

Gyp Ryol
26 February 2005, 09:30 AM
Jorzan had come into the cockpit when the Ardent came out of hyperspace, and plopped himself down in the sensor operator's station. As Connor and Xandin chat up front, Jorzan notices a light flashing on the board. Looking at the marking, he says loudly, "There's a message coming in." He looks at the sensor screen, then mutters, "Wha...? And it's coming from...the planet?"

28 February 2005, 12:07 PM
Connor brought the comms screen up on his secondary multi-function display monitor.
"Huh... that's interesting. They know we're here- whoever "they" are- so what the hell. Probably vectoring and METSOP instructions." he said as he brought the comm channel on line.
This was rather surpising- but then, everything about the planet surprised Connor so far.
His companions had been quiet (and part of him liked that quite a bit), but then he was also growing quietly worried about the mission... something was... off so far.

28 February 2005, 02:38 PM
Feln rubbed his chin, a distraught look upon his face. Space was never his element. He preferred solid ground beneath his feet, and felt somewhat helpless and out of place a board a ship. Still gazing through the forward viewport, he address Conner.

"I don't like this, Captain. I have a very bad feeling here. If you'd like, I'd be happy to man whatever armaments your vessel carries, just in case our 'friends' down there decide that we are unwelcome. Otherwise, I feel there is little I can offer you besides my insights. And those do not bode well at the moment. We should not be expected, and I fear our arrival will have many unforseen consequences."

28 February 2005, 02:46 PM
"I don't like this, Captain. I have a very bad feeling here. If you'd like, I'd be happy to man whatever armaments your vessel carries, just in case our 'friends' down there decide that we are unwelcome. Otherwise, I feel there is little I can offer you besides my insights. And those do not bode well at the moment. We should not be expected, and I fear our arrival will have many unforseen consequences."
"I concur. Go nuts- take the quad in the dorsal turret well... Sargent, feel free to man the Ion cannons in the ventral turret. I'll be handling the fore missle launchers from the cockpit.
The civvie control forces may just be wanting a chat- I'll think of something. If the Rebs were stupid enough to try taking over facillities, then we could have a problem, if they have fighter support- otherwise we can just blow the tower and figure something out afterwords." Connor said, shrugging.

1 March 2005, 07:30 AM
"ion cannons, aye." with that statement, Jorzan heads to man the gunners station for the ventral ion cannons.

(OOC: sorry for not posting sooner.)

Gyp Ryol
6 March 2005, 05:42 AM
As the Ardent starts its approach to Nethryl, the comm light continues to blink on the board, then, going unanswered, goes out. Connor tightens and loosens his grip on the controls, prepared for a less-than-friendly escort to come from the planet. Tense seconds tick by as Connor, Feln, and Jorzan all wait anxiously for something, anything, to happen.

But nothing does.