In Too Deep

[Uriel]

The One Sith were the greatest threat to the Galaxy at present.

The peaceful little world of Lialic was, for the most part, silent in terms of what it was. It had no real strategic value in that it was not a ship-producer, it was not a world of warfare. It was, in fact, little more than an inhabited world that had people on it, simple temperate conditions, and a few giant sprawling cities across its numerous continents. This made it perfect for, say, concealing something. Hide a project underground, funnel resources to bigger and more well-known planets and continue research unhindered away from prying eyes. Was that standard Sith tactics? Likely. Omega needed to know, perchance they commit to a war against them. And perhaps they were using a planet close to Omega space as a staging point, or any number of things. Was that the paranoia the azure-clad warriors of the Inquisition were up to?

Likely. So they sent in their best.

Uriel Squad had been given a mission - deploy to a quiet One Sith world, investigate the goings-on, then report back to the black citadel with all the intelligence that they had gathered. Without their power armour, the soldiers of the Inquisition were little more than very well-trained regular men. No bolters here - just heavy blaster pistols. In this case, they were of Mandalorian make, being some of the more deadly weapons in the Galaxy. Uriel carried one - and a force sword, also of Mandalorian make.

Uriel and his team had headquarters in an apartment building. They masqueraded as a mercenary team, Aurum Cell, looking for a new place to settle down and purchase some real estate. They used it as a base of operations, a plae where they could communicate - via their new earpiece comms.

Uriel himself walked around in light battle armour, blaster and sword riding on his hips. His eyes glanced back and forth on these streets, unsure - looking at all these people, all the nice repulsorcars. This place was so quiet, so simple.

One thing remained on his mind: who would know that Omega had a team here? Could the One Sith know already? Intel missions were not Uriel's strong point, after all.

[member="Shimmra Rapuung"]

 

[Not Ordo]

[member="Uriel"]

The brutal warmaster sat a top a roof in the buisiness district at the steak out point. He watched the repugnant lifeless technology that these disgusting creatures used and had to choke down his bile. These things were disgusting. He hated them more with every whiff of their sweaty filthy bodies, with every glance at their mechanical heresies, and every sound of their whining pitiful voices.

"Disgusting." He spat in the Vong tongue as his slayers stood by around him waiting for an order to act.

They had been made aware of a team carrying Mandalorian weapons, an old enemy not quickly forgotten, began asking questions making themselves too noticed or rather unnoticed. They were too clean for their own good. A villip chirped on his shoulder as he watched for movement.

"A lone soldier is walking toward you war master." The voice said, " shall we send in your slayer guard. "

"No, I will face it myself." He said as he stood and grabbed his ampistaff. His plasma eels on his waist and his fire breather on his left arm he was ready for any warrior this galaxy could offer.

 

[Uriel]

Something was wrong here. Something was very, very wrong. Something didn't quite feel right. Now, Uriel was no Force user. He was a soldier, first and foremost. He fought anything and everything that moved and it was a hell of a fight. However, he'd trained so long and so hard in his power armour that not having it on his person was going to make things difficult.

If he was in fact attacked, then this entire situation was going to be problematic. He decided, instead, to call it in.

"Lead to base - I need a sensor sweep," Uriel said, pressing a finger to his earpiece. "Is there anything out here I should know about?"

"Negative," replied one of his squad-mates, operating a sensor suite back in the apartment they'd rented. Uriel didn't bother replying; there was no need to.

His hand went to his blaster pistol anyway, just in case, resting his palm on the grip of his weapon. Now he was expecting it. The Sergeant knew, deep in his bones, that things were going wrong. He could feel a pair of eyes on him, somehow, somewhere.

Paranoia was a beautiful thing.

[member="Shimmra Rapuung"]

 

[Not Ordo]

[member="Uriel"]

His heavy steps carried him along the the roof until he found the edge. His thick clawed fingers gripped the edge of a ladder and he tossed himself over the edge and quickly slid to the ground. His eyes narrowed as he looked out from the alley and began moving down the back streets toward the soldier. His staff held like a venom spitter.

Shimmra ducked behind a waste receptacle and waited expecting the soldier to walk passed.

 

[Uriel]

[member="Shimmra Rapuung"]

Movement. Uriel could have sworn there was some movement nearby - but where? He heard it, not saw it; something had moved,like the rustle of a crate being jostled by someone nearby. He wasn't sure. It was a strange sound.. plastic perhaps involved. Not enough time to analyse it, not enough brain dedicated to hearing it in the first place.

But that eternal paranoia was all he had.

His blaster pistol was drawn, slowly, one hand coming to wrap around the hilt of the heavy weapon. It was his only sense of security out here on a planet that was held by the enemy. If he couldn't keep himself alive out here, what else could he do?

His thoughts carried him past his stalker's hiding place, past the side alley. Uriel didn't notice him at all.