1st post
IXION'S WAKE
STEALING IRON | ARMOURY
KANDARAN_SHADOW
COMPNOR
NIO:
Don Belkora
GA:
Valery Noble
Jordi's Loadout
Rucksack
Disruptor Pistol
Kandaran-Durasteel Switchblade
Garotte Wire
Camcorder
Wall-Piercing Vocoder
Burner Datapad
Surveillance-Camera Jammer
Cigarettes
X3 Bacta-Patches
Briefcase
High-Powered Slug Sniper-Rifle
Adjustable Bipod
X4 Ammunition Clips
Long-Distance Binoculars
Night-vision/Thermal Goggles
X8 Sticky-Charges
X8 Detonators
ART OF THE SCIMITAR: STRIKING FROM THE SHADOWS - PROLOGUE
NIA-3K-9726 (Armoury_Installation#002)
Muracie, Centares (Fall of 874 ABY)
'Diz'Ahm, I'm getting quite bored of this inactivity now.... Tell me a story, one that might help pass the time a little.'
Jordi was sitting where he had been sitting for hours by then, almost halfway through his watch-shift in a bid to contribute to rotations of more-prominent regularity and belonging, sharing the shift with two COMPFORCE troopers who had been there for at least four months prior for the purpose of manning the surveillance equipment to a well-trained standard. Besides this, their roles within the organisation meant being privy to the same sources of information as their temporary handler, and like their new Kandaran acquaintance, were also likely to drop masking exteriors around other COMPNOR elements. Times had been rather testing of late, especially for the Empire's clandestine community, but that wouldn't stop Massad from attempting to increase cohesion, and getting to know his face-covered colleagues would certainly help in this regard.
'Wait, first time I ever address you directly, and it's requesting confirmation on whether you want me to tell you a story or not.... What? Are you for real, sir?'
Unclipping the locks on his briefcase, Scimitar flipped open the life and grabbed his cigarettes as he responded,
'For as long as I remain bored, I remain a nuisance.', trailing off to light his cigarette and enjoy a few silent draws to himself as he closed the briefcase and locked it again with his free hand. There would be plenty time between then and the expected first hostile engagements, and adding to this need for boredom-death was the fact this order, like all the others Jordi had issued in his tenure with COMPNOR's upper-echelons, wasn't even remotely negotiable from a trooper's rung in the career-ladder. Then, with the exhalation of the third draw, Massad smiled wryly as he continued,
'And for as long as I remain a nuisance, your life-expectancy diminishes - and quickly.... So you had better think of something worth my time, something I couldn't possibly know.', with eyes darting back and forth between COMPFORCE garrison-troopers in a near-goading sense of brazen defiance.
'Alright then, Massad. I think I might have just the tale for the occasion, though I might be a tad hazier on details than the one who told it to me.... Ever heard of the Scar Hounds?'
With a simple flick of his cigarette, Jordi's gaze then crossed that of his colleague, shrugging as he waited for the trooper to continue. Imperial matters were always COMPNOR's business, but in matters he knew nothing about, the information-gathering approach was almost always prevalent as Scimitar's means of staying ahead of the curve. Matters of the Maw were never Scimitar's forte, but he knew enough to discern that such names for contingents were often attributed to tribes of Mawite origin, giving Massad quite the magnetising subject-matter to enjoy on that occasion, for topics such as these always interested Jordi from an objective standpoint. Perhaps one day the Kandaran Shadow would face off against a Mawite or two, but for the time-being, the struggle with the Galactic Alliance would take up the most of his early tenure, a thought he still enjoyed - though to a much lesser degree.
'Good, looks like I'll be surviving this one then.... Anyway, about these Scar Hounds; out of all the Mawite tribes, among all the powerful, evil folk who count themselves as Mawites, the tribe in question causes far more damage than it has any right to. In comparison to other contingents, they seem the weakest from an objective standpoint, but somehow end up packing the biggest punch of all.'
As he leaned back into his seat, the Kandaran quietly sniggered at the COMPFORCE trooper, though in appreciative sincerity for Corporal Diz'Ahm's sake as he kindly nodded with his real thoughts on the matter, happy to stay silent so his colleague could continue uninterrupted. Any information that got his hairs standing on end was enough to consider it pertinent, and in this particular case, Massad's goosebumps were going to work in seemingly rhythmic rushes that rolled back and forth - already inducing chills that were almost impossible to control.
'All owed to their warlord, a man who answers proudly to the name,"The Mongrel.", though designating him,"Demon", might have been closer to the mark.... No Force abilities to speak of, but still manages to kill his first Jedi within the first year of his reindoctrination - unprecedented.'
ART OF THE SCIMITAR: STRIKING FROM THE SHADOWS - PART ONE
NIA-3K-9726 (Armoury_Installation#002)
Muracie, Centares (Fall of 874 ABY)
'Expecting company, Massad?'
Diz'Ahm was watching the security monitors at the time, drawing the Kandaran's attention to CAM-004 as the silent trooper remained seemingly devoid of productive input to offer, springing up from his half-conscious, bleary-eyed state to slap Jordi on the shoulder as the ground-floor entrance was pinging up to the monitors with entry-requests. With a simple shake of his head to confirm his choice, Massad then sat himself up and took a look at the entrance display-feed to see who had arrived; however, much to Scimitar's chagrin, the gloomy shadows of the world outside were obscuring the faces of the two new arrivals, though their presence on the holographic displays had them marked as Imperials. Reaching into his rucksack, Jordi then pulled out a disruptor pistol and it's accompanying silencer, twisting the latter on as he muttered,
'Stay here, at least until I call you down.... Imperials, but that could also be a ruse.', stepping out from behind the console and walking out with right-eye firmly aligned with the pistol's iron sights.
'As you may be able to tell already, the game of Cloak-and-Dagger has been getting quite intense of late, but either way - I'm quite certain I'll be back before you know it.'
Both troopers nodded affirmation when Scimitar turned his head to make one last brief glance at his colleagues, though the moment would find a shocking revelation when the silent one finally spoke, gruffly responding,
'Of this I have no doubt, Jordi. Just keep your head in the game for now, plenty to think about as it is.', whilst Diz'Ahm opened the door for Massad and offered cover as soon as there was room to move. From there, Diz'Ahm shut the door behind him, letting the comm-link do it's job as he walked down the dim-lit hallway towards the entrance stairwell, keeping his strides as compact as possible to eliminate any potential errors on approach; he was hearing nothing but his own boot treads on the flooring, his breathing and the data-bleeping of every Holonet monitor he passed, but the silence never worried Scimitar - his ears liked it more than most.
<"After all,"The one whose hand is in fire is not like the one whose hand is in water.", this is known by our kind everywhere. But still we should be safe as long as we keep our focus tonight.... We'll be watching. Shield One out!">
There was excitement in the air, thinking he would encounter people he'd seen in the field before, but Massad's heart was racing with adrenal wariness at the fact the individuals at the entrance could've just as easily been opposing spies masking their pings as Imperial; but despite this, Scimitar's footsteps remained compact, his breathing steady, continuing on as any operative would in Jordi's shoes. However, when he reached the front entrance and opened up from within, the Kandaran would find nothing but disappointment rising up from within as a result.
'In! Head to the security-room.', Jordi started, clenching his jaw in the attempt to quell the rising anger at the fact he had nothing but rookies to back him up, and on an op that was already set to be his most-dangerous yet. Closing the door behind them, Scimitar then came to a decision, muttering,
'We won't be here long anyway, nor will this damned armoury for that matter.', before locking his pistol into safety and following the new arrivals upstairs.
<"Diz'Ahm, we're getting ready to head out. I'm done with this armoury, but nobody else is claiming it.... I want this place blown sky-high, and the new arrivals are helping.">
<"Diz'Ahm to Scimitar! Happy with this news, but you do realise it's gonna take us a while, even with a couple extra pairs of hands.... Lucky it's COMPNOR, Massad. Very lucky, but not that fortunate either. I want to be there when you try to explain this away to Belkora.">
<"Belkora's going to be a tad busy in this one I think, as is by design though, hence why I'm granted operational autonomy these days. And I'll be exerting it over the entire defence operation tonight, pure dominance with nothing but a rag-tag as always.... Imperials will need to work harder, Rebels will need to hide. Scimitar Out!">
Nothing else would be said until all three plain-clothes operatives joined the COMPFORCE-Troopers, taken in silently with cover to Jordi's six every step of the Kandaran's slowed approach to the open security-room door, made easier by Jordi's conscientious decision to aid in covering the door to the stairwell as he said,
'We'll need to move the more-expensive ordnance to an undisclosed safehouse, and we have a few in the area.... I'll leave that to you as the other Kandaran keeps watch over the whole process, sound like a plan?', ending on his question as he passed over the entryway's threshold and closed the door. Diz'Ahm would delay his answer in the effort to remember his task, as he wanted to be sure the door was properly locked before they continued in their planning efforts, a telling but fortunate sign that, like Scimitar, none there were willing to take any chances.
'Sounds like a plan to me, and my apologies for not making the introduction.... This is Private Ayad, a recruit but faaaar from raw. His placement here is probably the wisest play you're going to make tonight.'