Junction IXION'S WAKE | GA + NIO Junction of Trevura and Ingo

[Kelinna Tryn]

R E A P E R
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
ARMOURY | CENTARES
SCAR SQUADRON: Hal Vaiken | Volgin Alto | Atticus Draco | FN-999 | Jordi Massad | Rika Hiro | NIO
REBELS/WARHOGS: Traden Avarice | Monos | Phaineve Halseigh | Zav Traros | Keiran Varn | Valery Noble | @WHOAMIMISSING?
ENGAGING: Open

GEAR: Modified Armour | Sniper rifle | Pistol | Rifle | Vibroblade | Vibroknife | Grenade loadout

SUPREME​

It had to be spooks, didn't it?

Lily didn't like spooks. It was spooks that started this mess in the first place. It was spooks that caused them to be here. SCAR on babysitting duty. How quaint.

Jeez, she really was becoming cold and hardened to all of this - not good.

The SCAR sharpshooter was sitting on a crate with her helmet sitting next to her, wiping down her rifle while Sarge and Mauler were overseeing some lackeys. This shit was straight up boring. She'd much rather be out there, rooting out the rebels rather than laze around the armoury. In the time of being a normal stormtrooper, it was normal to hang around waiting for orders 80% of the time. That changed once she turned Specialised. Now they were back to hanging around like lost farts? All because of spooks that just had to go and drag everything through the gutter.

She was just about to move on to wiping down the service rifle while another trooper approached Sarge and Mauler, when Draco's voice broke the secure squad comms.
Finally, she thought. And then they all got their order.

<"SCAR Squadron is taking point on subterranean deployment. Transfer all maps on Centares' tunnel and sewer systems in and nearby the city to SCAR designated equipment.">

Rising to her feet and swinging the service rifle back over her shoulder and gripping her helmet under her arm, she approached her CO and the trooper from earlier. Mauler seemed to have moved off to somewhere. Getting closer, she noticed the Ninety-Nines' sigil on the commander's pauldron. Their exploits ran far and wide enough for her to recognise.
"Sir." she saluted FN-999. "Stevens of SCAR Squadron. But you can call me Reaper, Sir." Then she faced Hal. "We getting the herd together to go spelunking, Sarge?" she asked him. She knew he sometimes had his own plans that could go against orders if the need called for it. Her venting soldiers of all sides and colours on two different shipyards was proof of that. She just liked to know beforehand if he had any surprises.

She wasn't so sure about leaving the armoury in force despite her annoyance at the situation, but orders were orders and Draco knew his ABC's front back and center. She knew the Knight wouldn't send them on a wild goose chase - though wild geese were surprisingly easier to catch than insurgents were.

But why did always have to be tunnels, though?

Did insurgents all have a tunnel addiction ingrained in their brains?

 

[Jordi Massad]

3rd post

IXION'S WAKE
STEALING IRON | ARMOURY

KANDARAN_SHADOW
COMPNOR

NIO: Hal Vaiken Atticus Draco Volgin Alto Lily Stevens
Don Belkora Gau FN-999 Rika Hiro Thane

GA: Valery Noble Traden Avarice Monos
Phaineve Halseigh Dagmar Kortu Zav Traros

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 - PART FOUR

NIA-3K-9726 (Armoury_Installation#002)
Muracie, Centares (Fall of 874 ABY)

Sitting at the back entrance to the armoury itself, smoking with Asset I-9 and Corporal Diz'Ahm as the rest were filing out with detonator switches in hand; including Private Ayad, given a charge by Asset I-8 for the security room before they made their move to depart, and very much in the loop as to when his moment was at hand to join the festivities, all they needed at that point was to get as clear from the armoury as possible. The first and easiest task then would be to drive as fast as they could to their verbally-marked safehouse, no longer trusting in the datapads they were almost solely reliant on until that point, as the last thing that Jordi's team wanted was to be compromised when everything else had been running like clockwork until that point. From there, it would be a case of deciding on what they wished to contribute with next, and Jordi already had something in mind - kept firmly in the back of his mind for the sake of the task at hand though.

'Good to go, Jordi?'

As Scimitar flicked his cigarette away, he nodded as he exhaled the last of the smoke from his lungs before replying,'I was going to give the unauthorized personnel their fair warning here, but I think I'll just handle that at the safehouse. Deal with it all there while we relax and plan the next phase of our little operation without interruptions to worry about.', scratching just above his left eyebrow for part of it, removing dust residues from the confined space he was previously working in. Hoping there was a shower and (at the very least) military-surplus clothing at their next stop, Massad shook his head ruefully as he tried to dust off his shirt a little, continuing,'Better to get it all handled in the one spot, easier for the others to stay on track.... You've done well so far, Ayad. Don't lose your focus now.', as the unlikely acquaintances calmly strolled their way back to the transport speeder together.

'This means your handler wants you out of that armour and in plain-clothes when all is said and done here.... You're currently being poached, my young friend.'

With a brow-furrowed look of mild disgust, Scimitar turned his brief attentions away from the assertive, talkative agent to mutter,'Despite appearances, he isn't wrong.... Lets go.', entering the transport to sit in the front passenger seat with a quiet groan of lower-back exertion. As soon as everyone else was onboard and ready to move, Diz'Ahm would finally get Massad's team moving, distancing the most-expensive ordnance and the research notes from any potential Rebel or Galactic Alliance interceptions along the way, wishing very much for a quiet journey there for their sakes as much as that of the weapons and data they were protecting; and fortunately for Scimitar's tac-team, the ride to their safehouse remained blessedly uneventful, to which everyone would express their own varying degrees of gladness as they alighted the unmarked transport speeder.

ART OF THE SCIMITAR: STRIKING FROM THE SHADOWS - PART FIVE

NIA-3K-9726 (Armoury_Installation#002)
Muracie, Centares (Fall of 874 ABY)

'So what are your thoughts on Jordi? Seems to have big plans for you anyway.'

With all their Durasteel-protected items carried inside, Massad would leave the parking endeavours to Diz'Ahm as the others found their way to recharge for the next phase of Scimitar's little operation, letting the talkative COMPFORCE-Trooper hide the vehicle somewhere nearby without constantly patching through for situation-reports every ten minutes, knowing well for himself that it would probably take time if his subordinate hoped to properly obscure the vehicle from view. Too many factors to consider, too many opposing elements to allow complacency, hubris and their adversaries' curiosities to ruin the game for them, especially whilst their gameplan was still very much in it's infancy; but everyone was in a state of alertness so potent that their minds would not permit them to allow any such failings to occur, and especially not whilst they worked in the presence of Belkora's right-hand man, for glories aplenty awaited operatives who worked diligently in the presence of men like Massad - and all around him were supremely eager to impress in their own ways.

'Whether he does or not, I can neither confirm nor deny it.... But he does have a certain air about him, something that has been missing from the soul of my people for years now. Like a relic trapped in the wrong century, he seems so out of place - but the best often do, and there's nothing I can do or say that could change that.'

Jordi himself wouldn't be there with the three subordinates who remained when they had their conversation, as Scimitar was in the shower at the time, washing out the dust whilst the others chatted in hushed tones. Massad was known for his good hearing, but not even Jordi could hear their discussion through the walls as the shower hissed at peak water-pressure onto his head, though much to Scimitar's continued good fortune, it was nothing untoward, and certainly not by COMPNOR standards.

'You'll be fine, Ayad. You have the rare honour of being led by one of your own once more, a true operative, and perhaps - maybe strong enough to become leader in his own right someday. Something even you can appreciate, right?'

The Private then removed his helmet, and for the very first time in front of the two plain-clothes operatives, showing a bearded, though visibly suspecting face as he responded,'Yes, though I believe this to be something most would appreciate in my shoes.', trailing off with eyes darting back and forth between colleagues as he shoved the helmet aside on the table between them. Leaning in with hands clasped moments later, Ayad's eyes would roll disappointedly, shaking his head as he decided,'I've decided I don't trust where this conversation is going, good sirs. We may be speaking well of our commander, but we need not make a big, showy charade out of it - lest it says things of one which one might not want to have said of one's self.', in his unique, breathy Kandaran drawl. However, both Ayad's sanity and will to keep interacting with the nameless duo would be saved from being tested further, and by the sound of Scimitar's return to the lounge through the nearest door, it wouldn't be long before tests of differing nature became a blessed sort of distraction.

'Comm-device, pass it over! I think it's high time we give our unauthorized guests a little fright, don't you?'

<"All Imperial personnel operating within the confines of Armoury-Installation TWO, this Callsign: Scimitar! Be advised; you have exactly fifteen minutes to vacate and run clear of the building you're standing in or beneath now. This is not a drill - Armoury-Installation TWO has been rigged with explosives! Vacate immediately!">​

 

[Aerys Yvarro]

​

She spotted something... Valery Noble while unsure of who or what it was, Aerys was quick to throw on the gear of those meant to be here. Aerys wasn't going to miss the chance to rumble with the Galactic Alliance, to relive the glory days of her cousin Natasi - when - Natasi Fortan and the First Order took the fight to then Galactic Alliance. The same Galactic Alliance that had been undermined by Aerys' birth mother Taeli Raaf. The Daughter of Corellia and Galidraan's anger began to simmer once more at the thought of her birth mother. The woman had outright rejected her for being a non-Force sensitive being, at least, this was the poison given to Aerys from the moment Fiolette was able to do so.

Heritage disputed, left behind to cobble together what her bloodlines meant - if anything at all. What the names attached to them meant to her, the young woman knew there were rebels about. To be honest, she related to their cause - for Galidraan wasn't nearly as free as the propaganda had people believe, and neither was Bastion. Alas, there was little she could do to help either system and indeed at this moment, her goal lay elsewhere.

Anger that simmered began to rise, Aerys thought upon the legacy she knew of - the lineage and heritage she knew to be true. Her mother once commanded the void itself with vast Armadas, while the other relied on the Force to manipulate everything and everyone to her advantage.

She questioned what she would do when it came time to decide would she choose to take the Path of Fortan or the Path of Raaf. For now, all Aerys wanted to do was fight, anyone and anything that she could. She craved violence, and destruction it was the only outlet she had and she knew, oh the daughter of Corellia and Galidraan knew she was no match for the Jedi. Still, Torian Pierce didn't take the fight to the Alliance on Hoth for nothing. Her mind drew back on the history books the First Order had taught her. Teaching her of the battles past, but she wouldn't charge headlong into this fight the way he had all those years ago.

No.

While at the edge of madness, Aerys allowed her armor to speak for her - the tell-tale thud of her boots against the floor. She wasn't going to disguise her presence either, not that it would have mattered any Jedi would have sensed her approach. She was just there to buy time until the actual opponent appeared to take the Jedi on, and then? Well, Aerys only hoped to disappear into the dark and carry out her other agenda.

Gau | Jordi Massad | Hal Vaiken | FN-999 | @NIO​

 

[Gau]

​

Objective: Stealing Iron
Location: New Imperial Base
Equipment: Knight Armor | Lightlance
Theme: Elessar
Tags: Valery Noble

The Force was thick with atmosphere around Gau. There was a heated tension to the air, like a room filled to the brim with tibanna gas, just waiting for a spark to ignite. He felt as if he had to swim through the air as he moved away from the main storage center of his little section of the armory. Most Imperial regulars avoided him, despite the service of various aliens throughout the New Imperial Order, monstrous forms such as his still garnered suspicion and direct disgust. He didn’t have a traditional anatomy, he didn’t have what people expected when they spoke to another sentient. Bulbous eyes, a buzzing voice shuddering out a tube, long gangly fingers gesturing wildly as he spoke. All of this contributed to him being one of the few souls in this forgotten section of the armory when all of the hairs across his body stood on end. It was an electrifying presence, though not a particular one of danger.

This was not the wild and bold rage he had felt at the sting of Mawite blades, this was not the blind regret that Redwald struck him down with, this was not the pompous superiority of the Sith.

Through the tension, through the demands of attention the Force was asking of him, there was something underneath it all. A calm serenity. A gentle calm within the Force. It was nothing more than a wisp compared to all of the loud sounds dominating the space within the Aether. It was detached from the fret and worry. This sensation within the Force was someone who had made their peace with it’s Living Will. A tradition long since held by those Crusaders of Ashla, though, this felt different than those wayward warriors.

There was no lust, no rush for combat, there was direction and creed. There was a duty underneath the desire. An operative, enacting what must be done.

As he exited through the main doors of the subarmory, he paused in the long hallway on the leadup to the doors. He breathed, slow and deep, a whining sound reverberating off of the durasteel walls. His lightlance was held, crouched underneath his armpit, the pit held off to the side and near the ground. Non-threatening, yet ready to ignite to purpose. A fool’s guard.

It would be easy to miss.

An invisible spirit walking through the pale. As simple to forget as the grass tread underfoot on the Dantooine farmlands. No shimmering of the light, or breaking of the disguise, simply the will of the Force reaching out, and begging of Gau to simply believe. The Will of the Light was strong with Gau, and he had never refused it before.

If someone was here, they were here with him.

“Greetings, wispling. You hide well in the Force, well in life. Show yourself, I mean you no harm, you’ve offered me none so far. If you wished me dead, I assume I would already be.” He vocalized to the hallway, his buzzing, yet noble voice, holding stern with meaning. A commanding tone, yet asking for respect.

 

[Monos]

IXION'S WAKE
STEALING IRON

CENTARES MURACIE

THE BLACK VULKARS

SCAR SQUADRON | Lily Stevens Hal Vaiken Volgin Alto Atticus Draco
WARHOGS | Traden Avarice Phaineve Halseigh Dagmar Kortu Zav Traros

TAGS: Valery Noble Gau Jordi Massad FN-999 Aerys Myrrine

Equipment in bio.
​

TLDR Mox, as always, enters the overhead ducts and guards the intersection that leads toward the weapons room, which the War Hogs just infiltrated.​

​

The foul smell of rodent droppings surrounded the War Hogs who converged beneath a single, medium-sized grate, above which their squad leader, Traden Avarice stood, extremely still – in an attempt to create a ruse for the feedback loop. Part of the rehearsed plan. Hopefully it will work.
​

"Sensor blackout in 3... 2..." her gloved finger collided with the lever, "Now."

The grate sprung wide open and Mox was the first to flood out from the sewers and into the weapons room. Swiftly and silently, they took their positions.
​

"I'm in position," Dagmar said to Mox and the rest of the team. "Standing by for orders."

Mox quickly climbed atop a desk in the farthest corner of the room and reached out to the sniper of the team, whispering. – Aimbot! If you see large-scale movement outside, shoot out some fire extinguishers or something, please! Every moment helps! Slow them down! – He requested impulsively, and with silent hand gestures communicated to the others present his plan of taking out the two guards by the door while the electrical blackout was still in effect, and hoped that no cameras would come back online while he did so.

In order to accomplish their goals as quickly as possible, they needed to split up, fast. They still needed to place the charges their demolitions expert Zav Traros had brought and above all, funnel as many weapons into the sewers as possible before they were set to detonate.

As the small Anzellan whizzed by Traden, he jumped up to his waist level and snatched his squad leader's stolen keycard, with which he could manually open the slider gate that opened into the corridor, since the blackout was still active. Mox's magnetic boots hissed as they locked onto the metal wall, allowing him to quickly ascend to the height where the keycard input was.

Before he slid the card, the Anzellan flashed a thumbs up for the others and dragged the card through its receptacle with force.

The gates snapped open, Mox threw the keycard back towards Traden Avarice , and without wasting a single moment, the former assassin-for-hire propelled his small body into immediate action. Mox grabbed onto the side of the doorframe with both hands and somersaulted out into the corridor. He rolled past the two troopers on each side of the door, who were understandably shocked by the surprise. By the time Mox slid to a halt, he was already facing the two guards, one knee on the ground, an elbow resting on the other, stabilizing his aim. Two quick and small bursts of incapacitating ammunition from his rifle knocked out the troopers before they could even gasp for air. The lingering electricity from the bolts jostled their bodies even when they were unconscious.

He clipped his rifle back across his chest and whispered to the others. – Drag them into the room. I'll cover our escape from the vents. Bye! – And with that, he once again magnetized his boots and ran up the wall to a vent on the ceiling. All part of the plan, so far.

He dialed his welding torch's output to the maximum, and with four quick bursts the fixtures that held the vent grates in place melted away like butter. But time was running out; finesse was no longer an option. He let the vent grate fall down and land in the middle of the corridor.

Power will soon be back on.

Mox slipped into the duct above the corridor just before his internal timer ran out. He needed to duck in there, but as far as he could see past the steam and wires, he could move around reasonably fast; and so he did. With careful steps he snuck ahead in the duct that ran directly along the corridor and came to a halt just above another grate that opened into an intersection of hallways.

If someone comes hurrying toward the others, he shall be waiting, with his signature smoke grenades primed and ready to confuse the hell out of some more stormtroopers. The first person to arrive would be met by a dense cloud of choking smoke and a rain of stun bolts from a grate somewhere above them.​

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Location: Centares​

Appearance: Shadow Gear​

Objective: Stealing Iron​

Tag: Gau ​

​

"Then I suggest you stay clear of my path."​

​

The heavily distorted voice said as she stepped from her Cloak and presented herself to the figure who had sensed her. Normally, she would have hidden her presence in the Force as well, but drawing his attention was important to keep the rebels covered. So the closer she got, the more distinct she had allowed it to be. Now that they stood face-to-face, she no longer suppressed it beyond the veil she held over it to keep her identity secured.​

​

Within her hands, she had drawn two lightsaber hilts as well right before she stepped out of Cloak, and with an audible snap-hiss from both emitters, two violet blades ignited low by her sides. But even with the two weapons ready for combat, there was still no real feeling of hostile intent in the Force. ​

​

During her approach through the Facility, Aurora had also picked up on another signature nearby. Aerys Myrrine wandered the halls of the armory, but she carried with her a great madness and lust for fighting. Something that warranted a more cautious approach.​

​

But for as long as Gau made no move to attack or stop her, she wasn't going to engage. ​

​

"I'm not here for you, but I will do what I must to complete my mission." She didn't elaborate on what her mission was but with her presence in a fairly heavily guarded armory, it wasn't that difficult to understand.​

​

The woman then took the time she had to study the Culisetto in front of her, as well as his weapon, and planned her approach in case she had to fight her way through this obstacle. ​

​

But as she did, a sudden surge of danger struck through the Force, followed shortly by a voice that called for the evacuation of the entire armory. They were going to blow up their own weapons just to keep the rebels from taking some? It seems they weren't so confident in their abilities to protect their property, then. ​

​

Fifteen minutes was more than enough for her though, so the next move was Gau's to make.​

​

​

 

[Hal Vaiken]

S A R G E
501st LEGION
IMPERIAL SPECIAL FORCES
SCAR SQUADRON
Atticus Draco | Volgin Alto | Lily Stevens
Jordi Massad | FN-999 | Aerys Myrrine
Engaging: WARHOGS | Traden Avarice | Phaineve Halseigh | Monos | Zav Traros

"I admit, I didn't expect special forces here. Still, if it's a surprise, it's a pleasant one."

"That's the point, trooper." Sarge responded, not even sparing a glance at the stormtrooper beside him. It might as well have been a scripted response given how many times he'd received the same remark from nearly every stormtrooper he'd ever met. As an infantry stormtrooper once upon a time, Hal had been guilty of uttering these same words a number of times, too. Some things never change.

Only after a long drawn moment when his eyes laid upon the man beside him did he realize his own mistake. The pauldron, the insignia - a stormtrooper legion commander. And not just any stormtrooper legion commander -- the god damn Nines himself. A famed and renowned stormtrooper commander who had served with great distinction and success during the bloody total war against the Sith lunatics. One of the few higher-ranking officers that had survived the war and lived to tell the tale.

Sarge rarely was caught without words. This was one of those instances.

"Uhh-- Sir!" he snapped to attention with a salute so perfect it mirrored that of a rookie just out of the Academy. Made him feel young again. Embarrassed, too. Mauler had been quicker to recognize the legion commander but his nonchalant, bereft of military ethics left much to be desired. He departed away into the armory, seemingly dismissing himself and once more proving the stereotype of the unruly -- barbaric even -- character of the Mantellians to be true.

"Nothing in particular, Commander. Your men deserve a day's rest from yesterday's exercises." Sarge said faintly shrugging, "Their operative cohesion's fine but this all-out war with the cultist freaks -- it's a different beast to the chimera that terrorists are." he held no love for the criminals that had taken up arms against the empire. He could never fathom why they could not see the men in white as he did. He could never imagine how seeing a stormtrooper for the first time could be anything but the best day of your life.

They had to be as mentally deranged as the Sith, he figured.

The comms in his helmet suddenly beeped and Sarge unclipped and put on the notorious bucket over his head.

<"Vaiken. Marshal the Garrison and prep them for deployment. Standby for following Orders.">

:: Roger that, Colonel. :: he responded, then narrowed his eyes as new operational feedback flowed down his HUD. Authorizations, chain-of-command shift, new intel, and so on. All with the Imperial Knight's signature on it. Draco always seemed to be, in some way or another, working. Never a minute of reprieve. He couldn't afford it. Not when he answered directly to the Emperor himself.

<"This is Knight Draco. I am assuming command of Centares. The Rebellion has gone to ground and has vanished for weeks. The status quo will no longer be accepted -- and no longer shall it be maintained. This operation is to root out the enemy and see them eliminated.

In the time of the Civil War, the Sith were acclimated to the shadows of the underground."> Underneath Bastion it had been like an entire city could be hidden below the Imperial Capitol. He'd seen it when the Sith had attacked. They'd be thwarted then. The search had to begin somewhere, and where better than below the earth. Where scanners and the mighty could not and did not deign to look. <"SCAR Squadron is taking point on subterranean deployment. Transfer all maps on Centares' tunnel and sewer systems in and nearby the city to SCAR designated equipment.">

"I think there's your answer, Sir." he jerked his head at FN, knowing the man was also receiving the communique.

"Sir." she saluted FN-999. "Stevens of SCAR Squadron. But you can call me Reaper, Sir." Then she faced Hal. "We getting the herd together to go spelunking, Sarge?" she asked him. She knew he sometimes had his own plans that could go against orders if the need called for it.

"You got what you were asking for, huh?" the commander jerked his head at SCAR's designated marksman. 99% of military service is utter boredom, minutes that feel like days, days that feel like months, and months that feel like a lifetime gone by. There was no one he ever knew that felt that lifetime go by as intensely as Reaper. Apparently, a farmgirl's life was far less menial than a soldier's.

Shifting his attention back to the legendary legion commander, he said, "Sir, I suggest deploying the garrison on high alert. Send squads on every chokepoint of the sewers outside the armory's perimeter. We'll move in from the sewer's entry inside the armory. Colonel Draco's intel-- or rather intuition -- is rarely wrong; if there are any hostiles under our feet, best is to have your men flush them towards us... we'll finish the job." trap them like the pests they were. "I'm acquiring an uplink with our orbital forces as we speak -- they'll give us some eyes underground shortly. Until then -- the maps and schematics the Colonel's provided will do just fine setting up the choke points." the SCAR commander explained before giving FN a nod and jerking his head at Lily to follow him inside the armory.

As they hurried inside the armory, Sarge began putting two and two together. The armory was a ripe target for insurgents. Imperial grade gear, for the most part, was better than anything off the black market or scummy smugglers. But even if it wasn't -- quantity would matter more than quality to terrorists. They didn't tend to operate on streamlined supply lines like a conventional force does. They relied on daring raids for equipment to stockpile and later ration for their criminal efforts. Last thing the Empire needed were terrorists armed with Imperial weapons to the teeth.

So where was COMPNOR in all this? Did they know? Was this why they had been dispatched here -- why equipment was being moved in swathes from the armory and away to a location that his security clearance only defined as 'unspecified'. It beckoned the question how much more did COMPNOR know or rather how much were they letting on? Had they messed up again to the point their intel had to be reported to the Imperial Knight? Sarge doubted it. Draco would've told them as much if that had been the case. So he, too, was in the dark as much as the rest of SCAR Squadron.

But he had the Force.

They had a brute from Ord Mantell and a farmgirl with an ISB flag on her back.

...and a whole lotta violence.

As they drew near towards the sewer entrance close to one of the equipment warehouses, he ordered Volgin the classic, "You'll take point into the sewers, Mauler. Reaper -- the rear--" whatever further orders he was to utter were interrupted by a hoarse voice cracking through the comms--

<"All Imperial personnel operating within the confines of Armoury-Installation TWO, this Callsign: Scimitar! Be advised; you have exactly fifteen minutes to vacate and run clear of the building you're standing in or beneath now. This is not a drill - Armoury-Installation TWO has been rigged with explosives! Vacate immediately!">

His eyes widened open at what his ears reluctantly heard.

"...??"

"...what in the Emperor's name -- there's a whole god damn garrison here!" he clenched his teeth. How in the galaxy would a garrison, as well trained as Nines was, be able to vacate the area within fifteen minutes?

So this was the mess COMPNOR had stirred up on Centares. The mess that had brought him here now fell right on top of their heads like a pile of shit.

The complaining could wait. Just as they turned a corner, now closer to the sewers entry point, the familiar forms of grenades caught his attention from above and the SCAR commander fell back into his troopers behind cover as stun bolts grazed the durasteel corner missing by an inch. The way to the weapon warehouse was now covered in smoke.

"They're already here!" he stated the obvious to Reaper and Mauler, "Those shots came from above -- take care of whatever's providing overwatch from up there." he tugged his helmet at the direction from where the covering fire had come. "I'll reach out to Draco."

Shuffling a few steps behind Lily and Volgin, Sarge opened a commlink to the Imperial Knight, "Colonel -- the terrorists are already inside... and... COMPNOR's got the armory rigged to blow." he reported, "Explains the gradual movement of equipment outta this place." he added, then sent a notification of hostile presence to the rest of the garrison, specifically FN-999.
​

 

[Phaineve Halseigh]

Stealing Iron
WarHogs: Traden Avarice , Keiran Varn , Dagmar Kortu , Zav Traros , Mela , Tosk Khazer
SCAR Squadron: Hal Vaiken , Lily Stevens , Volgin Alto , Atticus Draco
Dirty Imps: Jordi Massad ,FN-999 , Gau ​

---

"I hope you liked the wait, Traden." The last of the team to enter the armory, Phaineve peeked her head a measly few inches out from the open grate, then pulled herself onto the duracrete deck with a quick clicking of her boots.

The others were already clearing out scattered elements of resistance around the room, hauling a pair of motionless suits of armor behind cover. Phaineve tracked her gaze toward the unconscious figures, then over the rest of the room.

She blinked. One. Twice. Upturned and unlocked metal clamps were left disturbingly unused, hanging emptily around the storage room. Not a single rifle stock peeked out from a corner; magazines, grenades, equipment of all forms appeared absent from sight. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

As if the Imperials were reading her mind, a voice answered her concerns over the intercoms.

<"All Imperial personnel operating within the confines of Armoury-Installation TWO, this Callsign: Scimitar! Be advised; you have exactly fifteen minutes to vacate and run clear of the building you're standing in or beneath now. This is not a drill - Armoury-Installation TWO has been rigged with explosives! Vacate immediately!">

Phaineve eyes widened in sudden, abject horror. It was a trap!

A sudden burst of rapid blaster fire erupted from behind the blast doors, accompanied by an almost unintelligible commotion produced by stormtrooper voice modulators. Aggressive hissing accompanied the sights of smoke pooling into the room from the cracks in the doors. Instinct pulled her hand to her side, flicking a metal latch and twirling her sidearm into hand. The captain's datapad snapped firmly to the other side of her utility belt.

"Well. What's the plan?" The fabric of her gloves pressed into the hilt of her blaster as Phaineve turned the barrel to the blast door. It didn't look like they were escaping that way.

Months of planning, and for nothing. The sacrifices of the Rebel Alliance's informants were left in vain by the Imperials' trap. How did they even find out? Where had everything gone wrong?

She'd have to figure that out afterward, assuming they survived.

The clock was ticking, the answer to that latter question looming closer.

 

[Thane]

P A G A N
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
IMPERIAL SECURITY BUREAU
FIELD OPERATIONS GROUP
Rika Hiro

The work was well underway in seizing and transmitting the Imperial intelligence assets on Centares. The next step was to deliver a red herring to his counterpart embedded into SIA. Rika Hiro. He'd interacted with the woman only over holocomms and while today would be the first time they meet face to face, Thane would hardly be donning his true face. He'd shown himself on Centares before in a half attempt at a rebel disguise, less so a visual persona and more so a an altered personality of an ISB agent gone rogue in favor of the Partisan group sprouting up on Centares.

Entering the same local dive that he had months prior, he only bothered to throw a characteristically rebel coat over an otherwise ISB field uniform before entering. Pointing a finger in the direction of the barkeep with a smile and nod, having been here before and knowing well the barkeep had rebel sympathies, he leaned right back into the persona he adopted on his last deployment to Centares before sitting himself across from Rika, putting two and two together between the image in the ISB's database and what he saw in person.

"Well, well, well-come to Centares. Glad we finally got the help we asked for. I'll tell ya they sure do know how to pick em, huh." He said with a faint laugh, his voice was hardly reminesent of the cold Imperial accent he otherwise donned naturally, it was a manufactured, teasing, jovial tone.

"Tell ya what- let's get us a booth so we can talk business, alright? Aaaalright." He said before smacking the table and standing up from his seat, pointing the way of a covered booth in the corner out and away from prying eyes before he'd speak up once more after sitting down, now in the inflection that she would've expected from the agent.

"All of our assets are good to be moved or...from what I've heard, destroyed, in some form. But- what we need from you is a delivery of intelligence that is...half true...half false to deliver to your fine comrades back on Coruscant so we have the possibility of tracing where and how these rebels may or may not be recieving assistance from the Starbird of the Core. Thus, it needs to be false enough to not prove harmful to Imperial operations, but true enough in that- we know if SIA acts on it." Thane says before he removes a metal case from his jacket and sets it on the table between them.

"Inside will be everything you need. If you truly must know the details to explain it better to your...superiors, I can divulge. Otherwise, that should be well enough to serve as 'results' from a counterintelligence operation on Centares." Thane iterated, leaning back in his seat.

 

[Aerys Yvarro]

Gau | Jordi Massad | Hal Vaiken | FN-999 | @NIO​

Unbeknownst to Aerys Myrrine the back and forth between Valery Noble and Gau. The young woman stormed through the halls as the notification to evacuate was given. Of course, the New Imperial Order would detonate their own armory, she didn't expect anything less. The First Order would have done something similar if the pressure was that immense. She once more recalled the Battle of Hoth and how the Galactic Alliance pressed onto Outpost Veers and Echo Base determined to not just get inside but gather any and all secrets the First Order harbored. The battle had been taught to her on Avalonia - and while she wasn't stuck fighting through the subzero temperatures as Imperials on Hoth had done.

Aerys still found herself in the cliche situation of preventing rebels from getting their hands on Imperial goods. Several moments later, she might have caught part of what the Culisetto said - she was perhaps a step too forward. Double time, she stepped back and wondered how to approach the situation. She was nowhere near where she actually wanted to be and most likely wouldn't have time to make it to the armory's heart. Still, this wouldn't be a total loss - while she didn't know who either Gau or Noble were...

It wouldn't matter, she wanted to bash someone's head in and they seemed to be good enough targets. Aerys wondered just which group was here, 117th wasn't anywhere near this and clearly, neither was the 313th. The anger she harbored earlier would be put to good use, however, she estimated that the private nature of the meeting most likely meant that both were sensitive to the Force. Merely a wall space away from the two, with the timer on until detonation it meant that escape was going to have to become a priority at some point, soon.

Gritting her teeth she smashed her fist against the wall. She would have to escape without anyone seeing her actual face, the penalties she'd pay for being caught here were not ones she wanted to face. Officially. Aerys was simply on her way back home to Dosuun to visit with her sisters. She had opted to take private transportation a Furious-class vessel that she was quickly summoning to be on the ready. Today wasn't the day to take the stairway to the celestial gates, but it would definitely be a day to smash a few heads in.

A glance down at her armor; the armor of those meant to be there patrolling, guarding the armory, and thus she took a deep breath and exhaled. Recalling the lessons that Sith Lordess Kassandra Distorith taught her - the ones meant to help her control her temper as she marched around that wall space and arrive somewhere behind Noble.

 

[FN-999]

TASK FORCE I​

ALLIES: NIO | Gau
ENEMIES: GA | Engaging War Hogs | Dagmar Kortu | Monos | Phaineve Halseigh | Traden Avarice | Zav Traros
UNIT: The Ninety-Nine (88/90)

A pair of privates came across an amusing sight.
​

Walking by them was a trooper in First Order issue armor, nonchalantly walking towards the weapons room of the armory. In any other stormtrooper company, they might have immediately detained the trooper and questioned him as a spy. However, the 19th was famous for the high concentration of multi-year First Order veterans among its ranks. On lower-priority missions, sentimental officers were often given permission to take out their old armor as long as their identities were clearly known. Consequently, the trooper running by was an amusing sight rather than an alarming sight.

Still, well-trained to be cautious about the slightest irregularities, they decided to contact their superior officer through comms.

[Sergeant ST-0637, this is Private Shorty. Do you know of any officers wearing their First Order armor around here?]

[Private Shorty, this is Sergeant Airsick. I do not know of any off the top of my head. I'll contact Major Bigmouth and get back to you on that.]

The sergeant then proceeded to contact the major.

[Major Bigmouth, this is Sergeant Airsick. Do you know of any First Order vets around here wearing their armor right now?]

[No, I don't. Even I didn't have the chance to bring my old armor here considering how fast we were we-deployed from Csilla. Did you see someone wearing FO armor?]

[Yes, while he was on patrol, Private Shorty gave me a report of a person in FO armor approaching the weapons room.]

[That's not one of ours. Tell Shorty and his partner to stop that person ASAP! I'll alert the armory command and Nines.]

[Yes, sir!]

<"All Imperial personnel operating within the confines of Armoury-Installation TWO, this Callsign: Scimitar! Be advised; you have exactly fifteen minutes to vacate and run clear of the building you're standing in or beneath now. This is not a drill - Armoury-Installation TWO has been rigged with explosives! Vacate immediately!">

Major Bigmouth's already heightened nerves exploded into a frenzied burst of adrenaline.

There was an attack on the armory.

[Task Force I, this is Major Bigmouth. All available troopers, evacuate all NCOs and noncombatants from the armory immediately and bring them to the command center under a twenty-trooper guard. Those troopers not guarding should remain in the building for as long as safely possible.]

[The seventy unoccupied troopers have two tasks. One - find and disarm the explosives if safe to do so. Two - enter the weapons room and try to salvage as much equipment as possible. There will likely be rebel agents in and near the room, so stay vigilant. We have ten to twelve minutes to get this all done, MOVE!]

[Nines, this is Bigmouth. The armory is under attack by rebel forces and the command center may also be a target. Put the garrison on high alert.]

Not wanting to waste any further time waiting for his commander's reply, Bigmouth deactivated his comms and ran into the halls towards the armory at the head of two squadrons, with several more squads planning to converge on his location. The time for fun and games was over, the desire to tease his commander gone now that the lives of hundreds were on his hands.

However, he still had a spark of confidence. His troopers were all longtime 19th members and veterans of Csilla, not easily deterred by a wily foe. Even if the rebels had already entered the armory, Bigmouth's seasoned assault company troopers were the perfect counter.

TASK FORCE II​

ALLIES: NIO | In relative proximity of: SCAR Squad | Interacting with Atticus Draco | Hal Vaiken | Lily Stevens | Volgin Alto
ENEMIES: GA | Dagmar Kortu | Monos | Phaineve Halseigh | Traden Avarice
UNIT: The Ninety-Nine (110/110)

N I N E S

As FN-999 addressed the SCAR trooper, several more arrived to greet him.
​

They identified themselves as Mauler, Reaper, and Sarge, names that he had long been familiar with as among the most competent specialists the NIO had to offer. Due to their high demand among other legion commanders and Imperial Army units, he was seeing their faces and personalities for the first time in his life.

His awe at their presence; however, was mitigated by their awe at his.

The lieutenant legion commander almost chuckled as Mauler and Sarge gaped at his pauldron and stammered out their first words of introduction. If he was still a First Order riot trooper, he might have asked for them to sign his helmet. It truly was a testament to his personal growth that he stood before these exceptional men and women as someone to be respected, and he would not take their respect lightly.

"Nothing in particular, Commander. Your men deserve a day's rest from yesterday's exercises." Sarge said faintly shrugging, "Their operative cohesion's fine but this all-out war with the cultist freaks -- it's a different beast to the chimera that terrorists are."

"Indeed, indeed." replied FN-999. "Still, this can't get any worse than Csilla. At least these misguided foes aren't trying to commit planetary genocide."

<"This is Knight Draco. I am assuming command of Centares. The Rebellion has gone to ground and has vanished for weeks. The status quo will no longer be accepted -- and no longer shall it be maintained. This operation is to root out the enemy and see them eliminated.

In the time of the Civil War, the Sith were acclimated to the shadows of the underground."> Underneath Bastion it had been like an entire city could be hidden below the Imperial Capitol. He'd seen it when the Sith had attacked. They'd be thwarted then. The search had to begin somewhere, and where better than below the earth. Where scanners and the mighty could not and did not deign to look. <"SCAR Squadron is taking point on subterranean deployment. Transfer all maps on Centares' tunnel and sewer systems in and nearby the city to SCAR designated equipment.">

Before he could elaborate further, an official broadcast blared through his helmet comm, as he was sure was the case for the SCAR troopers in front of him. At the same time, a transmission came in from Major Bigmouth warning of a rebel attack on the armory. It seemed as if both sides of the battle had operations, underway and FN-999 would certainly do his part. As the highest-ranking regular trooper onsite, FN-999 activated his helmet comm recorder and sent his reply.

[Knight Draco, this is Lieutenant Legion Commander FN-999. I am in possession of detailed files mapping the local tunnels, sewers, and other entrances to the command center. I'll copy the files to a secure server ASAP. The 19th and I will keep the ground floor secure while SCAR proceeds with its own task. Let me know if you need any backup.]

After concluding his message, FN-999 reached down to his waist belt and picked up a circular device with about the radius of his helmet and ten centimeters thick, flipping open a latch located halfway up its height. The portable computer instantly flicked on, revealing numerous files and applications.

"Sir, I suggest deploying the garrison on high alert. Send squads on every chokepoint of the sewers outside the armory's perimeter. We'll move in from the sewer's entry inside the armory. Colonel Draco's intel-- or rather intuition -- is rarely wrong; if there are any hostiles under our feet, best is to have your men flush them towards us... we'll finish the job." trap them like the pests they were. "I'm acquiring an uplink with our orbital forces as we speak -- they'll give us some eyes underground shortly. Until then -- the maps and schematics the Colonel's provided will do just fine setting up the choke points." the SCAR commander explained before giving FN a nod and jerking his head at Lily to follow him inside the armory.

"Understood." replied FN-999. "Better yet, this computer here has data on twenty kilometers of sewers under the center and winding into the city recorded by troopers under my command. I'm sending the data to you and your squad as we speak. I do plan to keep some units in the command center in case a breach occurs, but I'll otherwise send squads down to the chokepoints. The armory is already being secured by a ninety-trooper task force under the command of one of my majors."

"I'm headed to the ground floor of the command center to get a bearing on the situation and take control of non-SCAR military ops. I'll brief your commander as soon as he lands. Let me know if you need any assistance."

With his closing remark, FN-999 turned around to return to the interior of the command center.

 

[Traden Avarice]

I: STEALING IRON
WAR HOGS

Currently wearing this awful armor:

Location: Weapons Cache inside Armory
Attire: Stolen Stormtrooper Armor
Loadout: The Harbinger, Lightsaber
HOGS: Phaineve Halseigh Keiran Varn Dagmar Kortu Zav Traros Mela Tosk Khazer
SCAR: Hal Vaiken Lily Stevens Volgin Alto Atticus Draco
IMPS: FN-999 Gau and others...


As the lights were cut, Traden quickly turned and pulled open the grate, setting it carefully off to the side as Mox snatched his key card. The Jedi chuckled to himself as he took off his helmet and placed it under his arm, helping the rest of the team up and into the armory. As Mox prepared to do what he did best, he tossed the keycard back to Traden, who caught it and slid it into his hip armor.

"Ordinance is there. Weapons over there." Traden said loud enough for the rebels and hogs to hear him as he pointed in the directions of each respectively. He had been here for three days, and so had scouted out the armory for the best equipment.

"See you soon, Mox." He said softly as he finished up at the entrance and made his way into the vents. One of the rebels handed him a com link, which he took and placed over his ear with a nod of thanks. "Check check, this is Titan, over." He whispered softly into the coms, making sure it was working.

Phaineve Halseigh said:

"I hope you liked the wait, Traden."

Traden smirked, rolling his eyes. "Where's my Correlian Whiskey, Captain?" He whispered jokingly as he readied himself above the crate to help holster the score back down into the sewers to the team below.

Jordi Massad said:

<"All Imperial personnel operating within the confines of Armoury-Installation TWO, this Callsign: Scimitar! Be advised; you have exactly fifteen minutes to vacate and run clear of the building you're standing in or beneath now. This is not a drill - Armoury-Installation TWO has been rigged with explosives! Vacate immediately!">

Traden stared blankly at Phaineve Halseigh , "That can't be right…" He looked around the room, noticing the bare weapons room they had just infiltrated. Apparently he was as blind as a fucking bat and hadn't noticed it while he was standing inside the armory earlier with the lights turned on. What an idiot.

He growled angrily as he took the trooper helmet in his hand and tossed it violently across the room, causing it to clatter against the floor. He walked up to Phaineve with pure agitation and confusion in every motion, "I've been scouting this armory out for the past three days! This room was stocked to the brim just an hour ago!" He pulled out his lightsaber, looking around at the confused faces all around them. He was stunned.

It was a trap.

As blaster fire erupted at the entrance. Traden walked over to one of the rebels and took hold of his favorite weapon, The Harbinger. He strapped it across him, one hand wielding the now ignited blue saber, the other wielding his weapon of destruction.

Phaineve Halseigh said:

"Well. What's the plan?"

He checked to make sure a fresh cell was loaded, then aimed it at the entrance. "We were set up! We can't go back down into the tunnels, there probably swarming with troopers by now!"

He pulled the trigger, releasing a steady stream of explosive munitions into the hallway of the entrance.

BBRA BBRA BBRA BBRA BBRA BBRA

The hallway erupted in a destructive display from the ordinance. "We can't get out through that entrance, either!" He looked around them, desperate for some kind of plan C to manifest itself. Finally he looked upward at the ceiling, an idea coming to mind.

" Zav Traros ! You still got your explosives, right?!" He shouted over coms, "Come to my location! I'm going to get you up to the ceiling and you're going to blow a hole through it and get us all the hell out of here!"

"Thats right! We're pulling out everyone! Focus all fire on the entrance and get the rest of the rebels up out of the sewer! Let's move!"

 

[Rika Hiro]

Rika Hiro|SIA?|Centares
Tags:// Thane Jordi Massad Monos Gau Hal Vaiken Valery Noble IVI

Vibes

"Well, well, well-come to Centares. Glad we finally got the help we asked for. I'll tell ya they sure do know how to pick em, huh." - Thane



Those words made her stop hard in her tracks, pausing abruptly in a moment of panic and uncertainty before she looked up from where she'd been typing on her datapad, noticing the blue hue of the man's skin. Rika's free hand moved to her blaster on her belt, apprehensively deciding if it was worth it, shooting him right there and then. But, unfortunately, the Chiss was probably much faster and had the drop on her ever since she arrived. But then the voice began to make sense; she'd heard it before on the clandestine comm links she kept in her frugal apartment back on Coruscant. Too many eyes and ears in the bar as well.


"You tell me, Agent Thane, you going to shoot me or something?"

It was a joke, a weak one at that, something to break the anxiety that crept up on her as the Chiss had done. She'd been briefed through the communications she kept with her superiors about the circumstances of the counter OP on Ixion, brief and lacking in nuance or greatly explaining what it is she'd have to do. Rika silently thanked her lucky stripes that Thane had spared her the awkwardness of pseudo chasing him through the streets of Ixion.

"Noted, I haven't got anyone else on my detail; I was moving solo with my fake clearance and identity, made it easier to avoid drawing too much suspicion."

She sighed and leaned against the back of the seat, her eyes suddenly widened in realization at the lack of decorum and respect she showed Thane who was her senior in COMPNOR. Rika stood to and awkwardly added one last bit on the end of her sentence.

"Sir."​

 

[Monos]

IXION'S WAKE
STEALING IRON

CENTARES MURACIE

THE BLACK VULKARS

SCAR SQUADRON | Lily Stevens Hal Vaiken Volgin Alto Atticus Draco
WARHOGS | Traden Avarice Phaineve Halseigh Dagmar Kortu Zav Traros

TAGS: Valery Noble Gau Jordi Massad FN-999 Aerys Myrrine

Equipment in bio.
​

TLDR Mox receives orders to extract, throws a vomit-inducing grenade to slow the Imperial advance inside the building, and departs toward the roof through the ventilation shafts.​

​

"Come to my location! I'm going to get you up to the ceiling and you're going to blow a hole through it and get us all the hell out of here!"

"Thats right! We're pulling out everyone! Focus all fire on the entrance and get the rest of the rebels up out of the sewer! Let's move!"

THUD-THUD-THUD-BOOM – the stun bolts roared through the smoke cloud, each weapon discharge pushing back on the Anzellan's shoulder.

But it was merely suppressive fire. Something that seemed to work, if only for the moment.

– They know where I am now, can't stay! – Reported Mox on his internal comm, the barrel of his blaster rifle smoking inches away from his face. – I heard you guys! – The Anzellan clipped his rifle back across his chest. – Moving to extraction point! – What had gone wrong? A streak a failures seemed to hound the tiny creature in the past couple of missions. He opened a channel toward Dagmar Kortu – Aimbot! Your time to shine! Blow up some equipment outside, but only the equipment!

Mox spun around and hopped over the grate from where he unleashed his earlier volley of stun bolts. He knew he needed to leave ASAP, or else he's toast. He learned long ago to respect his enemy, especially the SCAR Squadron. However, a split second later he slid to a halt inside the ventilation duct just as an idea sprang to his mind. He quickly grabbed a hold of one of his remaining smoke grenades and with both hands twisted it open, revealing the large capsule within that held the condensed mixture which produces the smoke once primed. With his index finger he flicked the capsule out from its indentation and replaced it with an energy cell.

He twisted the grenade back together, primed it, threw it inside the lingering smoke below, and covered his ears like his life depended on it. Unbeknownst to Mox, an old acquaintance, the Commander Hal Vaiken was nearby. It exploded, creating an ear-splitting field of noise all along the corridors. More than anything, this explosion would serve a purpose similar to that of a sonic grenade. Nowhere near lethal, but its nausea-inducing properties are savagely debilitating nonetheless. In theory, this could block this intersection for a couple minutes.

The Anzellan operative turned back and looked for a way toward the roof, inside the ducts; this was routine for him. He had been crawling in ducts his whole life. All ventilation shafts exited to the roof, and with his magnetic boots equipped, he had every chance to exit to the roof on time.​

 

[Gau]

​

Objective: Stealing Iron
Location: New Imperial Base
Equipment: Knight Armor | Lightlance
Theme: Elessar
Tags: Valery Noble

Gau watched Valery break out of her cloak and enter realspace in front of him through unblinking, emotionless, insectoid eyes. They betrayed little of his emotions, not for any outward attempt to hide them, he was not, but that was not how his kind displayed their feelings. It was found in the tightness of skin, in the tapping of feet, it was found in the shifting of his grip along the base of his lightpike. Choking his grip on it slightly as the twinned sabers boomed to life. Illuminating the stark-white armor of the knight in gentle shades of lavender. The entire grey hallway was given a new burst of life due to the Jedi’s display.

That was all that it was, in the eyes of Gau. It was a show of force without any of the desire for conflict. She was directed. She was purposeful. She was no naturalborn killer. She would not strike him down in malice, he could rely on that rather well, he supposed.

He made no effort to portray himself as a threat, keeping the point of his weapon off to the side, waiting for the call to action, with the end nearly kissing the floor with it’s weight. The blade remained inert, inactive, there was no call to outward violence just yet. Besides, using violence as a hammer in the face of opposition was a tactic used by the Sith, used by the slaves of darkness, it was something used by Redwald. It was not something he was looking to make a habit of.

“I’m but a simple Knight of the Empire, I would be surprised if you were here for me. I don’t wish for this to turn any more foul than it must. Disengage your sabers, perhaps we can speak this through? I have no quarrel with you. We stand as two children of the Force, having a conversation.”

He did much to avoid the fact that his purpose in this facility was in direct countenance to her mission, it didn’t take a mastermind to assume that she was here to the disenfranchisement of the New Imperial Order. While he did not like the idea of killing to save the effects of the state, he would if that was what was asked of him.

Perhaps, if it came to it, he could get away with disabling the Jedi.

Let’s keep it from coming to that then, sire.

“Please, don’t push the issue.” He spoke, moments before the claxons began to blare through the armories, and a familiar voice began to scream over the intercoms.

“Lords be damned, Imperial chauvinism… nationalism would be the death of logic.” He muttered to himself, looking up at the speakers embedded into the walls before turning back to look at the Jedi.

“I’d request that you evacuate while we have the time.”

 

[Iver Keyes]

New Imperial Medical Compound
Adjacent to the Secondary Command Complex (OBJ II)

While the alarms blared, Iver carefully hovered the tweezers over the stasis vial and dropped a small piece of shrapnel into it.

"Is this really necessary, doctor?" Came an artificial voice over his shoulder. "The most efficient means to dispose of shrapnel is the waste extractor."

"I know, K4," Iver replied.

He turned back to the sedated soldier on his table and began looking for the next piece.

The soldier, one of the survivors of the attack from a few days earlier, had only suffered minor shrapnel wounds to her back as a result of the blast. She'd long been stabilized, and, by all measures, she could have been released already, but the initial procedure hadn't been fully successful. Some minor pieces of shrapnel had remained in her body and still needed removing.

"However," Iver continued, "this shrapnel might hold some clues for the investigator at the bureau. Most of it was thrown away, but when they got word that we hadn't gotten rid of all the shrapnel, they requested the rest be shipped to them in stasis storage. So that's why we're operating now."

K4 hummed in understanding.

"Very well, doctor," the droid said.

"Anything else? Or are you going to go back to watching the doors?" Iver asked.

"No, doctor. The data you've supplied was satisfactory, returning to my primary mission, though, please, do not hesitate to request my assistance at any point in this medical procedure. You know I am programmed with well over-"

"I know!" Iver interjected. "Over four-million medical procedures, K4. I know, but I really need you to keep watching that door."

K4 hummed in annoyance, then in acknowledgement, and Iver heard the droid's mechanic legs as he stepped towards the door.

Despite some of the hiccups, his idiosyncratic nature had endeared the droid to Iver. His use of a vocalizer and vocal modulator to indicate mood, or what he understood as moods, had made the bucket of bolts more likeable than most of his colleagues. It was certainly preferable to the monotone drone of your average medical droid assistant.

Iver extracted the next piece of shrapnel, carefully placing it in a second stasis vial.

"Wouldn't it make more sense to group them in a single vial, for more efficient storage?" K4 chimed in again from across the room.

Iver momentarily paused the procedure as he rolled his eyes.

"I thought all your queries had been answered to your satisfaction? Shouldn't you be watching that door instead of my hands?" Iver said.

"Recent developments in your medical procedure have created new queries, doctor, and my sensors are fully capable of monitoring both," K4 replied.

Iver stayed silent a moment.

"Don't overthink it, rustbucket."

K4's head cocked to the side with a quiet mechanical whirr and he hummed in confusion. He almost seemed to consider something. The degree to which he resembled a human could be unnerving. Iver had to remind himself K4 was only a droid at times.

"You are the organic doctor, doctor. I defer to your judgement," K4 concluded, then remained silent.

 

[Zav Traros]

The stench was horrible, but at least the trek through the sewers was quick. But it was over and done with, and there were far more important things to be concerned about right now. One such concern was making audible footsteps down the corridor around the corner.

Well, better go in for the silent kill. Holding his blaster rifle by the barrel shroud in his hand of flesh and bone, he primed his cybernetic arm and quietly approached the junction. Once the trooper could be seen rounding the corner, Zav delivered a mechanical strike to the side of his head.

It was awkward, but horribly effective. His cybernetic fist swung laterally in a back-handed strike that bounced the trooper's helmet against the wall, leaving a permanent dent in the piece of armour. He slumped over, either dead or unconscious, and collapsed onto the floor. Dragging the evidence away in the darkness, Zav had just managed to get him into the room with the others Mox had taken care of.

Soon after, a report broke the silence.

<"All Imperial personnel operating within the confines of Armoury-Installation TWO, this Callsign: Scimitar! Be advised; you have exactly fifteen minutes to vacate and run clear of the building you're standing in or beneath now. This is not a drill - Armoury-Installation TWO has been rigged with explosives! Vacate immediately!">

That called for a situational reassessment, to put a mild term to it. The mission was karked, extraction was bound to happen now and he'd be back within the sewers nearly as soon as he'd left it.

He wouldn't be left wondering for long. Soon, Traden spoke next through his comms with orders.

"Zav Traros! You still got your explosives, right?!" He shouted over coms, "Come to my location! I'm going to get you up to the ceiling and you're going to blow a hole through it and get us all the hell out of here!"

"Sure do. Moving now, will be at your position soon!" he replied quickly before he broke for the weapons room. The mission was karked, but at least he might grab a carbine on the way.

He also might die. But y'know, small blessings.

He didn't need his nav systems this time, it was simple enough to just follow the sounds of combat in Traden's general direction. When Zav came within eyesight of the weapons room entrance, it was surrounded by troopers. Well, it's a good thing he didn't resort to grenades, because they wouldn't see the barrage coming.

The thump of the grenade launcher finally gave away his position, but the well-placed barrage left none alive to hear it. Five scattered blasts had taken out everyone in sight, transforming the once ambush into a scene of scattered debris and dead troopers. Zav made haste over their lifeless bodies and bounded into the room with his grenade launcher slung and explosives already in hand.

"Door in ceiling, coming up now. Grab me one of the..." Zav began his request, before noticing the strange absence of any weapons in the room. No rifles, no grenades.

No karking carbines!

"Kark, disregard." Zav concluded, already attaching the shape charge to the ceiling as he spoke. A circle of plastic explosive adhered to the top of the room, and Zav delivered a warning as he attached the wires to the blasting cap.

"Go get to cover." He spoke simply and briskly, attaching the cap to the round line of explosives. Zav threaded the wire in his cybernetic hand, running it over to the cover the team had sought before attaching the detonator. A click was immediately followed by a blast, and the ceiling had a roughly circular shaped hole with the missing portion now debris on the ground beneath it.

"There's our exit." Zav remarked, kicking an empty locker over to serve as a stepping point up.

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Location: Centares​

Appearance: Shadow Gear​

Objective: Stealing Iron​

Tag: Gau ​

​

"I'm but a simple Knight of the Empire, I would be surprised if you were here for me. I don't wish for this to turn any more foul than it must. Disengage your sabers, perhaps we can speak this through? I have no quarrel with you. We stand as two children of the Force, having a conversation."​

​

Aurora narrowed her gaze at him from behind her mask and studied his behavior and tone as much as she could. His words showed no desire to fight, but the way he held his weapon confirmed it as well. Even through the Force, she felt no hostile intent from him, and she preferred for this to end without hostilities as well. But she had a mission to do, and he wasn't just going to let her pass.​

​

"I'm not here for conversation, get out of my way or-" she stopped as another presence approached along with the blaring alarm that signaled the imminent destruction of the armory. She had felt it before, the pure desire for bloodlust that ran deep within this person. Now, the woman appeared behind her in the hallway, ready to engage where her ally stood with his weapon disengaged.​

​

After looking over her shoulder to watch Aerys Myrrine appear, her head turned back to Gau and her feet began to shift to look like a more combative stance, "I see now, merely waiting for back-up to arrive?" a distorted chuckle followed, and rather than disengaging her weapons, they were drawn up a bit, clearly in preparation to engage.​

​

"But it seems my job has been handled for me already," With the self-destruct happening soon, she felt no real need to dive deeper into the facility to do anything. Whether the rebels were getting their weapons or not was no priority, and they wouldn't be of any use to them if they were blown up alongside whatever they stole either.​

​

So Aurora's attention turned to what she believed the better route of escape — through Aerys. She raised one hand, the fingers unwrapping slightly from the hilt of her lightsaber, and sent a powerful pulse of Force energy her way, hoping to just send her flying out of the way. Even with this woman's desire to fight, she preferred to just get through her without having to deal any real damage. So hopefully, she'd get out of the way and make this an easy escape attempt.​

​

​

 

[Aerys Yvarro]

​

​

​

​

She felt the Force as it hurtled toward her and at that moment a voice from the not-so-distant past. Kassandra Distorith and her words, sitting together on the island of Laurentia. "Your body will remember the time it, spent within your mother's womb, and how good the Force felt running through its veins. In those moments you will be capable of doing more than what any ordinary human can do. Fret not about your sensitivity to the Force, you will still be able to do wonders." Aerys' instincts kicked in as she thrust her dagger into the nearest flat surface to stop her from being pushed out of the path. The dagger broke as it punched into the wall slowing the trooper down. Eventually, she would come to a stop, and Aerys sneered, snarled even, she'd have to thank her birth mother for never slowing down on her use of the Force.​

​

Aerys looked over past the woman and toward Gau , she studied their appearance. Why in the name of bloody Bastion would they choose to speak instead of fight? The klaxons wailed and the daughter of Corellia and Galidraan cursed whoever had the cowardice of triggering such an event. "Malaka! They choose cowardice over courage." She withdrew her dagger and placed it back in its sheath as she got to her feet. Her bloodlust would have to wait, she kicked herself into high gear - running as if all of Avalonia were crumbling around her.​

​

She looked down at her left forearm, punching in her coordinates. Aerys cursed again as she charged forward, blaster bolts flying past Valery Noble with the intent of hitting any electronics that would, or could shut them in. Whoever decided to blow up the armory, in her mind, was a coward - and had no real want to fight. "AERA! AERA! AERA!" Dosuunian words flew from her lips, in which to say - forward, and it must have been adrenaline for Aerys hadn't a clue as to how fast she was running but she would later attribute it to the very thing that she had been warned of. Her body remembered the Force, and how it felt when it ran through its veins.​

​

Jordi Massad | Hal Vaiken | FN-999 | @NIO​

 

[Jordi Massad]

4th post

IXION'S WAKE
STEALING IRON | ARMOURY

KANDARAN_SHADOW
COMPNOR

NIO: Hal Vaiken Atticus Draco Volgin Alto Lily Stevens
Don Belkora Gau FN-999 Rika Hiro Thane

GA: Valery Noble Traden Avarice Monos
Phaineve Halseigh Dagmar Kortu Zav Traros

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 - PART SIX

NISF-8C-5193 (Safehouse 3)
Muracie, Centares (Fall of 874 ABY)

As soon as the message had patched through to the armoury's intercom system, Scimitar's ragtag team of operators erupted into cacophony of lough, raucous mirth, knowing fully that they could set the charges off as early as they pleased, (or under circumstances urgent enough to necessitate such actions) knowing the mayhem that such a message on it's own would be wreaking upon the intruders and unauthorized personnel alike.

Massad understood it well enough, especially in seeing the live visual feed to the armoury's surveillance-system for himself, laughing at the sheer variation of reactions to the message as he checked each and every monitor with a widening smile on his face, Jordi's first since arriving on Centares days before. Yet the smile would ease into a smirk soon later, checking the seventh monitor only to find Scar Squadron, an authorized presence, equally at risk to Scimitar's impending demolition efforts; and in this moment, Jordi started concentrating again, deciding there and then that he would offer assistance to those with similar clearances for the op, watching their back as he worked on his next play elsewhere. COMPNOR would have the makings of an ever-watchful eye protecting them henceforth, and Massad was more adamant than ever that the Rebels and the GA would be wincing under the added pressure before long, even if it meant painting a target on his back in the process - even if it meant becoming more illusive than ever before.

The clandestine would become Jordi, but only as much as Scimitar fully embraced the cloak-and-dagger aspects of the COMPNOR lifestyle.

'Alright, Diz'Ahm.... Now that's been done, I'll be needing you to get the research data off-planet. If COMPNOR achieves all the objectives today, transporting the ordnance off-world would be stupid if we can just shift to another Armoury in the city instead.'

'Roger.', the Arkanian replied, trailing off to start making preparations but stopping in his tracks to check the inventory one last time. After a few seconds of downward swipe-scrolling, Diz'Ahm turned back to continue,'Crates four, twelve and fifteen are leaving with me though. Way too much red-tape on those to keep in an active war-zone apparently, and it would seem that COMPNOR HQ believe it's becoming exactly that.... Sorry, sir.', whilst approaching with fingers pointed to the highlighted items in particular. Massad wasn't very fond of that particular procedure, but judging by flippant attitude in viewing the clearances-blocks with his own eyes, the Arkanian was assured there would be no trouble on the matter, seen nodding his assent to prompt Diz'Ahm to conclude,'My thanks, sir. Come find me on Bastion when you're done here.', with a polite salute before about-facing and walking off to see to his orders.

'Will do, Arkanian! Just be sure to focus on staying alert out there!'

And with that, the door to the lounge closed behind the Corporal, letting the others deal with the rest of the briefing's stipulations as the security-measures were put into effect in their absence.

'Alright, now that's out the way, I can leave you to the rest.... No worries, Ayad. I'm leaving I-9 and I-10 to keep you well-protected, and to assist in your surveillance efforts.'

Taking his helmet off, the young Kandaran COMPFORCE-Trooper then cast his older compatriot an icy glare of indignance, obviously wishing to go with Jordi to wherever it was he aimed to work his magic next. However, Private Ayad would relent enough to inquire,'And what location are you planning on hitting next? Surveillance is hardly my field of expertise, I'm better suited elsewhere and you know it!', still having trouble stifling his irritation by the time his inquiry's rationale was concluded. It wasn't sitting well with Scimitar, but this would be a different circumstance to others, as any other trooper from any other world would have either been chided into silence or murdered on the spot for their insolence; but Ayad was Kandaran, and this was far from insolence, the young private's words had a hidden meaning that only someone like Jordi would be able to detect - telling of experience that could only come from life among their kinsfolk.

'Ayad, I know! Of course I know, but this is exactly why I can't.... We need to fine-tune you into something even better before I take such risks with you, and not to be a killjoy - but because I'm invested in your survival now.'

Shots were screeching out in blaring-high volume on the lower-levels monitors' speakers, well and truly getting the proceedings underway around them and the city itself, but instead of rifling off with ideas or how-to's, Both Kandarans would cast sidelong, knowing glances at each other - seeing the room for surveillance exploits in the very content of the fight as it unfolded.

'And besides, its fairly obvious now that you're quite well suited here too.'

Reaching for both his rucksack and his briefcase, Jordi would briefly pause to put his sunglasses on before making off with his tools for the job, fully intending to use the unmarked swoop-bike that was already parked out front long before Massad's team arrived. The plain-clothes assets then nodded their brief farewells to Scimitar as his eyes darted from a last glance at the surveillance monitors back to the agents on the couches by the Holonet terminal, cleaning their blaster-pistols whilst they eyed the situation from their seats, every part as eager to catch the whole armoury engagement as it transpired on the screens. Everyone was ready and seeing to their duties but the handler himself, but it still benefitted Jordi greatly to see that all the cogs in the wheel would be turning properly as Massad himself ventured into the city, in search of other COMPNOR assets to assist in any way that seemed pertinent at the time.

'Easy done, sir. Just hold on a moment and keep on the right track with this. Going quiet this time, just going for Scar Squadron's local comm-link channels - this is so we don't lose our advantage at this early phase of the game.... You already know, I just want to be kept on the right track before you go.'

<"Scar Squadron, this is Callsign: Shield One! Do not be alarmed, we intend to help. We have confirmed that you're authorized personnel, so I intend to use those surveillance cams to your advantage. More Sit-Reps incoming. Shield One out!">
​

'Nailed it, at least as far I heard anyway.... I'll be in touch.'

ART OF THE SCIMITAR: STRIKING FROM THE SHADOWS - PART SEVEN

Plaza Parlemia, The Old City,
Muracie, Centares (Fall of 874 ABY)

With his BattleNet pad and comm-device active, Scimitar would make a point of stopping every now and again to check both for any signs of activity from the other loyal Imperials in the area, and trying his utmost to avoid OPFOR blips and signals in the process; no signal-jammer could be found before setting up his loadout on that occasion, remembered well for the fact Jordi had considered this before the fact and had raged about it for a while, so it would be more than just keeping his ping unseen this time, easily remedied by keeping devices switched off between stops - though he couldn't help but wonder.

Command-Centre's been relocated, and as far as I'm aware, it still hasn't been compromised yet so....​

Sneering at nobody in particular, Scimitar was left with no choice but to pull over yet again, putting his cover and discretion at great risk once more for the sake of seeing if he was right or not, as there was much more than the presence of the 72nd on high-alert that Jordi had to worry about that day, and Massad would uphold his own state of hypervigilance due to the fact COMPNOR agents would be at much greater risk of captivity than ever before. Jordi had all of this on his mind and more when he surreptitiously turned his swoop-bike into a quiet side-street, switching off the engine to cool it down with nothing but street animals for company, sneering as he tried to stifle the most dangerous of worried thoughts in his mind at the time. Yet as the Kandaran switched on his BattleNet pad and comm-device once more, all would be set aside in seeing that the new command-centre was being infiltrated already, one or two supposedly-false alarms had been tripped since, presenting quite a distinct trail for Massad to follow.

It looked like the friendly assets in the area were either moving to respond or immersing into the system to play the rats at their own game, though Jordi was beginning to think on playing yet another game of his own, though Scimitar had no doubt it would be a much different game to the one he left Ayad to oversee. And yet, in the realisation of the fact he would be overseeing one operation as he gate-crashed another, Scimitar understood he was doing something else he wasn't really please about, being of a singular-focus at the best of times, only ever making exceptions to this for operatives like the latest initiates, but mostly for his Tetan commander. Setting it all aside once and for all, Massad switched off his BattleNet and Datapad devices then faced east, made a silent prayer and ignited his swoop-bike's engine for the short journey ahead, knowing the way well enough to assume he wouldn't drive by the command-centre when he reached it.

*'Ahw, rayie....'
**"Oh, fantastic...."

Nothing else for it. Worked on scanter intel than this so there's no use in complaining now.

<"Command-centre assets, this is Scimitar! Requesting an encrypted Datapad server if you've got one. Going dark but I'll see it as soon as mine is switched on again.... Initiating Comm-Silence now. Scimitar out.">​

A small lifeline, and one that would ensure private coordination between operatives, such that would keep nosy adversaries guessing for longer than could be hoped for the usual means of communication. The only question that remained in the Kandaran's mind was the incessant pondering on who would answer his call, nagging and gnawing at Jordi's patience as the names of all the colleagues he knew he hadn't met began to grow louder in a cacophony of whispered names, pseudonyms and serial-numbers. Yet as the streets passed him by at a leisurely place, Massad began to think on what sort of opponents he was at risk of facing off against, and though Scimitar was no doubt moving in the right direction to be of help to his comrades, the increased risk of capture would no doubt be worse at the command-centre than it ever would be elsewhere in the city.