Simple Missions Never Happen

[Brent Smith]

DREIGHTON NEBULA ​

Brent was not a superstitious man, he never really had been. He believed in what he could see, and what he could feel, but he was willing to admit that there was a lot about the galaxy they couldn't explain. Sometimes things were just big, massive, and hard to be understood. The Dreighton Nebula was one of those things. Spacers told tales about how ships were prone to disappear in this part of space without reason. Entire ships vanished without so much as an ion trace. The theories why were as varied as anything else and while he didn't know what was causing it, what he did know was there was a package on Aten II and they had to get it.

Unlike last time he was working with [member="Sara Lee Jones"], this wasn't lost intel he was sent to acquire but a shipment of Stygium crystals. They were rare, hard to find, and Brent needed them. For that reason they were about to brave the Dreighton Nebula, and hopefully reach the planet within to aquire their needed goods. Gates, Brent's black astromech gave a low whistle, the agent patted his head reassuringly, "It will be alright, I am sure."

 

[Sara Lee Jones]

Sara flew as she looked at the hyperspace coordinates, she shook a bit, the stories she had heard of this place was what pilots dreaded having to do, but agent smith needed her help, she liked his attitude, easy to work with so far, so she agreed

*hey agent smith we are reverting to real space on three...two...one*

She said as she reverted and watched the nebula, so large and vast appear before them, she looked to the nav computer and started plotting their course

*ok got us set for a straight line but we can move out of the way of stuff if need be *
[member="Brent Smith"]

 

[Brent Smith]

The Bishop was Brent's mobile base of operations. Within it was an armory, with tools of his trade, armor, and everything that he could ever need was on board, even holding cells for carrying force users or worse. And today the YT-2400 was acting as their vehicle of choice. Brent holstered his repeating blaster pistol on his side before striding out of his armory/lounge into the cockpit not far away.

He looked at the massive nova they were flying into. The ionized gas they passed by was beautiful, it created an almost living lightshow before them like no other. If it wasn't so lethal, and if it hadn't severely impeded their chances of getting through this on one piece, he might have actually enjoyed it.

"Sounds like a good plan," Brent said with a nod. He looked at the view port, quiet and studiously. There wasn't many things that could make him worried, but there also was not much outside of his control or much that he didn't know. He didn't like feeling this way, helpless, out of control.

He quirked a quick, forced smile to Sara, "The scanners probably won't be much good due to the ionization in the nebula, but I don't think that it would hurt to keep them searching I suppose."

This was the perfect place for an ambush, Brent couldn't help but thing dismally. Blinded, targeting systems down, and scanners down, it was like moving though a fog that all but cut your eyes off. In the mean time, he figured it was best to talk, if for no other reason than to keep their minds off the inevitable.

"So, why did you become a pilot for the First Order?" he asked.

[member="Sara Lee Jones"]

 

[Sara Lee Jones]

She looked as the gas floated around them, she gave a sigh as she was tested uo, no pilot in there right mind would do this...it was almost like suicide, then again Sara wasn't the most normal of people....neither was the agent

*on the off chance they do work, better to have them...say do we have like...sonar or something? Or anyway to jury rig soemthing to work like sonar...*

She said as she kept a visual look out, she gently moved out of the way as a asteroid passed, small...relatively small so to speak

* huh? Ah well I went to one of the academies, see at first the planet I was born on wasn't first order, then they came and took the place over, my mother and father put me in a Academy, I learned a few things basics and all that started showing great intelligence and such, my...home got attacked and glassed by the silver jedi we moved to dosaan, I contiuned there and the higher ups noticed my skills in repair of fighters so they put me to the Sims and adjusted my curriculum and I graduated top of my class licensed to fly....took me about three weeks before the 100th squadron accepted me...*

She said and smiled

*also the place I got the scar on my face*
[member="Brent Smith"]

 

[Brent Smith]

He thought for a second, his hands tapping on the buttons across the console, "We do have an option, its not much of one, very rudimentary." He turned the comms on to receive and dialed the sensitivity to its maximum. A squeel of varying fluxation came from the console, "The ionized gas interacts with all our systems, I can't tell you how, it just does. The only difference is the pitch it gives off that messes with the comms. Old smuggler used to use it as a sort of basic guidance system, we can follow it to Aeten II, I am sure."

He listened to her story offering an emphatic nod every now and then. War was a messy business, he hated it, even if he was in the process of doing it. Innocent people got caught in the cross fire, and while he didn't hate anyone, the things that happened in war were brutal. There was enough blame to fill the universe twice over. Brent had done things that he wasn't very proud of either. Sometimes it was you or them.

"The worst part is when civilians get caught in the cross fire," Brent said at last. "I'm sorry, I know that can't be easy. But the First Order--"

He was cut off by a high pitched squeal, the molten planet, Aeten II, had come into view before them.

[member="Sara Lee Jones"]

 

[Sara Lee Jones]

*well if it works it works, rather have something then nothing going through these clouds *

She listned as she guided them carefully through the gas, she was about to speak as she heand the squeal she switched them off as she started

*scan for a landing area*


[member="Brent Smith"]