Register a free account today to become a member! Once signed in, you'll be able to participate on this site by adding your own topics and posts, as well as connect with other members through your own private inbox!
Empress Teta was a crucial hub within the Galactic Alliance - constantly alive with all manner of interstellar traffic. While she was not quite on the same level as Coruscant, the city of which spanned the whole planet; Empress Teta’s capital city of Cinnegar was still of a size to truly never sleep despite the wounds she had suffered in the preceding decades during the Second Great Hyperspace War. Most of the scars of that war had healed, and the city returned to a state of normalcy that permitted the majority of the populace to engage in life and business as usual.
Cinnegar’s streets were constantly filled, and the planet’s industrial sectors were churning out all manner of goods for the citizens of the Alliance. The space port of the city in particular was constantly filled with travelers moving from ship to ship, or entering the city for all manner of business or pleasure. Among the thousands of people moving about at any given time was one figure in particular; a fit woman with jet black hair tucked behind her ears with a headband. She wore simple, unassuming clothes - indicative of those worn by someone of modest means. She appeared olive skinned, but wore a scarf that obscured the majority of her face. To even a dedicated observer, she appeared as little more than yet another Onderonian refugee fleeing into Alliance space to escape the rumored occupation of the Dark Empire.
Rumored.
Whatever uncertainty may have existed, the sheer numbers of Onderonians flooding into the Core worlds was enough to prove it true. The majority of refugees arrived near the beginning of the occupation, as the Imperial blockade had not fully taken control of the sector, and the majority of ships that attempted to flee were able to successfully do so. After the blockade was established, refugees were still able to escape largely due to the efforts of what remained of the Onderonian resistance, who in turn partnered with ‘independent contractors’ to smuggle those with enough money and desperation off world. Then of course, you had native born Onderonians who lived elsewhere who made their way to such hubs as Empress Teta to enlist in the Alliance military, in the hopes of being ideally positioned should war break out.
All of this was to say that, someone who looked like her was not an uncommon sight on worlds like Empress Teta.
Someone who looked like her.
Sabine’s disguise was, in a word, flawless. She did not often get spray tans, but they were valuable for when she needed to really hide her normally pale complexion. Combined with the wig she wore, and the grime that lined what skin remained that was exposed, and she looked every bit the part of a faceless Onderonian refugee as opposed to the daughter of the Imperial Despot. She wore contact lenses that altered her eye color, and even walked with a pebble in her left shoe to slightly alter her gait. Her feet would kill her for that, but she didn’t have far to go to arrive at the safe house.
She had been ship-board for most of the journey, in fact. She arrived in Commenor a few weeks prior, then transferred ships to Alderaan, Balmorra, and then finally Empress Teta. She was in possession of forged documents indicating she had filed an asylum claim on Commenor, with a trial date scheduled for years later, and a travel visa sealed and signed for Empress Teta. The forgeries were enough to fool casual inspection at a customs office, yet would likely not hold up should she be arrested and detained, which meant she’d be subjected to more intensive scrutiny. Yet, no intensive scrutiny would present itself as she exited the space port and made her way to the safe house. She was to meet the rest of her team there, who would utilize other methods of arrival. They all were to travel separately, and assume cover identities to obscure their true identities. Their mission was too important.
The drawing and throwing of identities like pazaak cards. Different faces, different names, different lives—it just wasn't who Jon Hojkstra was.
He'd been forced to learn about blending with crowds, forging aliases and covering his tracks after he went on a killing spree throughout Allied space. Eventually, the ex-storm commando was busted, put behind bars for a lifetime and recently liberated.
Now he was forced to learn about it by the bureau; in return, they would provide him with names.
Enter, Ludo Stryfe. Tearproof jeans, a dark field jacket, 8 inch labor boots, a hood over a cap and sunglasses. A man of the working-class. Not at all different from those grinding long shifts, smelling of the carbonite that had made Teta the economical powerhouse in the galaxy it was today.
Beneath the shades the Bureau had placed holo-lens to fool any potential iris scanners with the forged identity of a blue-collar man. It was obvious no refugee cover would've flied with the ex-stormtrooper. Too imposing, too intimidating. Looked like a guy who would grow his own crops in a nuclear fallout as long as the place was home.
When the door into the safe house slid open, Jon instinctively drew his concealed firearm and aimed.
He grunted in recognition and put away the pistol.
"Welcome to Empress Teta, Mr. Pavond. We hope you enjoy your stay." the ticket droid's digital display mimicked it's best human smile as it's hand printed a ticket stub into mine. The ticket read Blen Pavond, Occupation: Longhaul Logistics Supervisor. That had been me for the last week since I'd boarded a ship at Ord Mantell and assumed the new identity as a man who worked overseeing a droid-crewed trading vessel. A handful of runs through Alliance space had all been stamped and cleared with Alliance authority, and a historical record showed Blen had been working the job for three years now. He liked it, mostly because he didn't much care for people. Those were usually the types to take a job supervising a bunch of cargo droids for weeks on end. The young man that Blen was, he was probably in for a lifetime career, or that's what any onlooker would suspect.
The hull of the cargo ship has slowly emptied with each trip as the droids had unloaded crates of consumer goods, with the final load now being taken off to store fronts across Cinnagar. All I'd had to do was watch the droids, and they had worked flawlessly. Now they had tucked themselves back into their pods aboard the ship, and Blen Pavond was free for a bit of R&R until the next shipment bound back to Ord Mantell was ready to be loaded up.
Amidst the bustling port, I was just another spacer tired from the hyperlanes. My creased grey jumpsuit looked comfortable and worn, and I hadn't bother to do my hair or make an effort for looks, taking on an appearance of considerably less sleep than I'd actually had. Without hooking me up to a good biometric scanner, nobody could tell a difference.
Aside from our last mission to Onderon, I had never been outside Imperial space, and this was my first time on an Alliance world. To any authorities this face belonged to Blen, and only Blen. After all he was a citizen of Chandrila by birth, or so the convincingly forged passport claimed. So far it had allowed me into Alliance space and onto Teta with no problems, and as I left the spaceport for my night on the town I hoped it would stay that way.
The safe house was exactly where I had expected it to be, and I saw that Hojkstra had beat me to it. His rough and tough look was perfectly matched to his heightened weariness as I saw him putting his gun away. After the security compromise on Onderon, Korvan had told me this was a chance brighten my future with the ISB. Knowing now that I was not just working to please the Korvans, but also the Sith Lords, I had to put my best foot forward here. Jon was also on a second chance. Fitting, I supposed. No sign of Sabine yet. Wasn't sure just what to make of that...
Against a dark side cult, hiding in the shadows, eavesdropping and gathering information. Espionage and spy work. He was a terrifying fighter on the battlefield, but this work was far more his speed. He had learned while in the service of Darksiders, now working against them. The order that had raised him were long, long since dead. But Darksiders of their stench kept popping up. It was almost a futile attempt, keeping them down as if they could be quashed. But just like the Lightsiders always held onto hope and created rebel groups in times of Darksider oppression, Darksiders kept to their shadowy secret cults whenever under a Republic's law. It would never end, the war and struggle and chaos. But letting the infestation continue without purging it where they could find it was the worst thing to do, to give up. And he'd been in this game a long, long time. Long enough for his shock-white hair of youth to return to its darker colors, and then grow salty with age.
So here he was, not giving up.
The Krath, a dark side cult started by old aristocrats a long time ago, had gone to ground since the Alliance beat back the Mawite invasion. They had been a relatively lower priority, partly because they weren't doing much and because they couldn't find out where they went. But now they poked their head out. Intel said that a meeting with ISB agents and a Krath member was going to take place around here soon, and Dominik was paired up to observe and potentially disrupt the meeting. How the ISB would arrive to the meeting was unknown.
Them being on-world already was a possibility. Some sort of safe house or a place to stay gained under a disguise wasn't hard. There was also the general travel of merchants, those on work visas, and personal travel that happened every day. However, there was a shuttle of refugees arriving today. Would be a convenient way to blend into a crowd, would need fewer papers to identify yourself, and you could ditch the refugee disguise afterwards to fly offworld. In the busy life of intelligence agents, that seemed like the most efficient use of time and resources. It's what he would do, so that's what he decided the ISB agents must have done.
The refugees came off the shuttle in the spaceport, one by one, then two by two. He kept a close eye from above on a catwalk hidden in shadow. There was a long table set up with humanitarian volunteers, passing out supplies and food and clothes to those in need. Everyone getting off moved to get something for themselves. A disguise to look like a normal person would be expected, so Dominik's Eye examined those he could. Height, hair & eye color, weight and build, and gait were all examined. No one matched. Some got close to some of the info the SIA had on a few ISB agents, up to 57%, but nothing convincing. Then another ping, one got to 63% of a New Order Political Commisar. Sabine Korvan
. Hair color was wrong, Eye color was wrong, and gait was off, a slight limp and shorter steps on one leg. Her skin tone wasn't even right, and covered in dirt. But their height and build and weight were incredibly close to the SIA's predicted measurements. It wasn't hard to find two women that looked similar, especially with cosmetics being popular with women, but that close, with someone who had ties to the New Order? Today? Dominik pursed his lips. If he hadn't had his Eye, there wasn't a way he could have spotted her. She was ordinary. But she was the best lead they had at the moment...
The rest of the refugees were met by friends, family, or began wandering off, their steps and paths unsure as they looked around. Maybe they could find a job or housing or some good samaritan. But that one woman... She didn't. She had a destination. She didn't look like she did more than check a local map in the spaceport, and set off. It wasn't hard to believe that a refugee had somewhere to go lined up, but... Coincidences stacking up made the coincidences change.
"Following a potential suspect." He whispered into his comm device, and followed from a distance.
Jason’s comm clicked and beeped a few times in code alerting him that several suspicious individuals had passed by port authority. Cameras and boots on the ground were keeping tabs on them, very little coming in and out of Empress Teta got past security unless they let it. They used to be Royal Guard now simply demoted to security, at least those not in Alliance prisons for aiding Dyans Keto
. As the Royal Guard they had they had near absolute authority just under the queen herself to enforce law and order. Now they were under the thumb of the GA and had to follow strict protocols.
He flipped on his holo computer at his desk then and typed in his password to log into he camera systems. Then typed into the code to give him access to the camera tracker that had been sent to him. His golden eyes watched the suspicious individuals moving through the port to the commerce district. As he watched he noticed someone tailing one of the suspicious individuals. “Facial recognition on that individual.” He said to the computer as he touched the screen on the person.
The program began to run its data search and with in a minute came up with the message restricted. “SIA.” He said under his breath, now what the hell were they doing here? Jason sat back in his chair as he looked at the picture of the agent and shifting between him and those being tracked. He then picked up his comm he put in a code sending message to a few agents in the area. Distraction protocol enacted and as the two suspects moved through the crowds a lowed gun went off into the air.
The crowds panicked and began to chaotically flee in all directions causing a clusterfuck of a crowd like a stampeding herd of nerfs. As a man in a mask and duster screamed out into the crowd. “Give me a fair damned price not the jacked-up alliance price, you cheating bastard or I will kill everyone!” Then the man turned his gun and shot a second time this time hitting man in the crowd who was fleeing.
From his holo screen Jason smirked as he continued to watch. He too wanted to see where the strangers were going but he sure as chit wasn’t going to let an SIA agent beat him to the punch. This was Empress Teta not some back water dirt hole, the GA could just raze without going through proper channels.
2 T-73 "Judgment" Handgun (one holstered behind the back, one holstered to right leg. suppressors available for both)
Booooring….
He missed thew days of being a part of Omega Squad, but Zev Tantor would never admit it if you asked him. He held no loyalty to “Azrael” or “Bartleby” or any of the team, especially not the newbie ringrats either. They left him to die on that Imperial prison asteroid on that ill-fated “off the books” mission to rescue Nida Perl
. Now, before anyone reading this reports brings up that it was he who told them to “finish the mission” and leave him, it was true and he accepted that part. He did not accept that they did not go back for him. He had to get out of there himself. That was a conversation for another time. There was a time when Zev even thought deeply about just giving up and letting them and their experiments (you cannot tell him that they did not experiment on him) work. Then he thought about his captivity, and what they did to him. No, Zev had no love lost for Omega Squad, but he had even less for the Imperials. However his time in Special Forces was gone, he had chemistry with no one he was paired with, and frankly, Zev was getting old(for Special Forces).
So what to do?
He was recruited into the SIA. Make no mistake, the man was not brought right in and welcomed, he needed psyche exam after psyche exam. Zev also needed to prove his capabilities were assets. “What have you done for me lately?” Indeed. Tantor took to the rehab and the integration into the system though, it was a lot of intense training, a lot of mental and psychological work going on. This was where Zev’s Special Forces training came into use and helped him through it. Finally the say came when he was given his assignments, they were all home on the planet Coruscant, he needed to gain their trust still, fine. He worked more and more. The day finally came that his name was on a jacket for an assignment offworld. He was going to Cinnegar.
Right into work posing as a Starport launch bay crew employee…
It was probably because of his size that Zev was put into this, he looked like a “bruiser”, a “meathead” and if he were honest with himself (and he usually is), he would agree with that. So it made sense. It was still boring though. There was a tip of an incoming insurrection of Imperial Intelligence. This is where he felt “bored”, Zev was used to acting on intel, not gathering it, but he understood the importance of the work he was doing, if only something would come out of it. The shuttle from Balmorra was full, they all seemed to be late, a lot of refugees from Onderon coming in.
Sure Zev had his suspicions of people coming in, a woman here, a man there, but it wasn’t his move to make without word from his overwatch or one of the other agents (who didn’t trust him enough to identify themselves apparently). Days went by, weeks, and nothing, until he head the words he was waiting for…
“Following a potential suspect…”
It was difficult to contain his excitement, but he did… only muttering the words “please be real, please be real” quickly over and over again to the point of sounding like a nutcase.
For an illustration of what Sabine is about to do, please reference this video.
It was just as she was getting comfortable - allowing herself to even remotely believe that she had evaded detection, that an uneasy feeling began to materialize in the pit of her stomach. Anyone who spent any length of time in intelligence would know that sometimes, despite everything looking as right as could be, there would be a nagging feeling at the back of ones mind, or deep in one’s gut, that something was wrong.
And usually... that feeling was right. Added to that common aspect of tradecraft was a distinct advantage that Sabine had against most others in the intelligence community - specifically in that she was force sensitive. Her father had gone to great lengths to hide her force sensitivity from the Imperial Knights, as he had lost his eldest son to their brain washing. As a result, she had never received formal training, and was far too old to start down that road now. But she had always felt a keener intuition about situations she found herself within, whether it was in the interrogation of suspected traitors, or in investigating the numerous crimes she was privy to within the Empire as she scoured for clues; or in feeling that unmistakable feeling within the pit of her stomach that a situation wasn’t right.
Her suspicion was halfway confirmed when she spied the reflection of a man following her in the polished glass of a building she walked past. She waited a few more moments and passed yet another building with a reflective surface, and spotted him again. Her mind began to race, and the paranoia she had inherited from her father started to take hold within her. How did he spot her? What did she do to give herself away? Was there a team waiting to snatch and grab her, then interrogate her in a safe house?
Yet, almost as soon as those thoughts entered her mind, they eased again as she blinked them away and forced herself to take in a few deep breaths. There was no perceptible way that this man knew who she was. If he was a counterintelligence agent, it was far more likely that he had received a tip of their infiltration, and knew to look for someone - but not anyone specific. Where would the most logical place be to look? A refugee ship from Onderon, a world under Imperial occupation. It was altogether likely that numerous agents were on observation detail, and were similarly tracking altogether harmless refugees who were making their way through Cinnegar. It was then that the reality of the situation dawned on Sabine, and her mind narrowed on the one mistake she made.
She broke away from the refugees too quickly and made her way to the safehouse - a rookie mistake. She was supposed to be someone who didn’t know where she was going, and yet she proceeded down the streets of Cinnegar like she had studied a map for the past several weeks. Half out of frustration, and half out of her whits catching up to her, she began looking around the city to gain some measure of not only where she was, but who was around her.
Random citizens of the planet were walking along the sidewalks of the city from all walks of life, and of a myriad of species and races - including some of the other refugees she had accompanied on the ship. Merchants and cart-venders were set off to the side, and it of course played into Sabine’s favor that she was actually hungry. She paused for a moment in front of a food cart, and took her time to peruse the assortment of local street food.
She forced herself to take her time. ‘Remember your training...’
The Aqualish vendor grunted to her in his obscure language, and she pointed at the mixture of what appeared to be synthetic meat and likely frost-burned vegetables boiled over. The vender spooned a generous serving of both into a fluffy piece of oversized bread and handed it to her in a wrapping. She smelled it first; the food at a very pungent aroma laced with all manner of ethnic spices. She paid the vendor and walked away, almost absent mindedly. Then, she took a bite.
It was surprisingly... good...
The brief respite allowed her time to naturally ponder her next move as the man who she presumed was her tail tried to make himself inconspicuous. She needed to gain some distance between them so she could peel off this first layer of her disguise and meld into the rest of the milling crowd. She passively observed the different alleyways and side streets that branched off of the main thoroughfare she found herself within. Her mind began piecing together a plan to lose her tail as she worked her way through the impromptu meal she was enjoying, when the unexpected happened.
He then picked up his comm he put in a code sending message to a few agents in the area. Distraction protocol enacted and as the two suspects moved through the crowds a lowed gun went off into the air.
The crowds panicked and began to chaotically flee in all directions causing a clusterfuck of a crowd like a stampeding herd of nerfs. As a man in a mask and duster screamed out into the crowd. “Give me a fair damned price not the jacked-up alliance price, you cheating bastard or I will kill everyone!” Then the man turned his gun and shot a second time this time hitting man in the crowd who was fleeing.
It was not hard for Sabine to act the way she objectively needed to in that situation, largely because she had no karking idea what was happening. Her initial reaction was similar to those around her as she jumped and involuntarily dropped her food on the ground. A man started yelling, and everyone began running in literally every direction in a quickly devolving panic. Soon after her initial shock, she realized that a literal golden opportunity presented itself to her in the midst of this act of terrorism. The crowd surged around her, breaking the line of eyesight between her and her tail, and she was quick to act as she moved through the crowd. The first thing she dropped was her black wig, which revealed a completely bald head with what appeared to be tattoos all across it.
She drifted into the back street where a smaller, but no less panicked group had rushed into and used the confusion of the crowd and shifting bodies to quickly remove her coat and twirl it inside out, which allowed it to double as a coat of a completely different color and style. It was black now, with a myriad of trendy pockets and fringe that gave it a flair of edgy couture. Next, as she kept walking, she pulled at her baggy, khaki pants and they broke away - revealing a tighter set of pants seemingly made from black bantha hide.
She turned the corner and went down an alleyway. She kicked off the poorly fitted shoes she wore, and produced a small pair of slippers from her bag. She slipped them on between steps, which would again alter her gait as the fit was roughly a half-size too small than her normal size, then ducked out of the alley and into the back door of a shop. Within 60 seconds, she went from being an Onderonian refugee, to a tanned street rat. To complete the transformation, she donned a pair of sunglasses, and proceeded through the store and out of the main entrance onto the city street that ran parallel to the one she was on moments previously. She leaned against the brick wall of the store she just exited, and pulled out a cigarette. She placed it in between her lips and lit it, allowing a puff of smoke to exit as she took stock of her surroundings as casually as a loiterer looking for trouble.
The map she studied over the past few weeks had come in handy. She wasn’t far from the safe house, but she couldn’t lead anyone there who may be following her.
And so, she waited to ensure the trail had gone cold before carrying on. After a few minutes, she stamped out her cigarette, and proceeded onward. She placed her hand in her pocket and pulled out an untraceable comm unit, or a ‘burner’. She called one of the preprogrammed numbers within it as she kept walking.
A few moments later, Kazian’s burner would begin to ring.
He was leaning against the wall, staring blankly as time ticked away.
Jon glanced at his holo-watch and clicked his tongue.
"Your boss is running late, kid." he remarked the obvious to Kazien, a tinge of irritation in his tone that seemed as natural as breathing at this point.
"That happen often?"
Scanning the younger man from head to toe, Jon still wasn't sure what to make of the man. There was something about him; a greenness that reminded Jon of fresh recruits straight out of the academy; and it was clear the kid was aiming to please, especially when it came to the Grand Moff's daughter. Yet, the eagerness in his demeanor wasn't neither greasy nor overbearing.
The air in the safehouse was tense. It was easy to tell Jon didn't want to be here. Bad history with the place, on top of the ISB blackmailing him into working with us just for some more info about it. What I knew about his rampage through the Alliance was hardly all there was to know, and what I knew about his friends, missing or dead, was next to nothing. I may have been moving up in the Bureau quickly, but I was just another pawn without the clearance for that knowledge. Part of me hoped the guy ended up getting what we'd promised him. I sure would like that in his shoes. The other part of me was uneasy alone in the room with him, and of course he was the first to note aloud the lack of our leading lady.
"I couldn't say. First time I've worked with her, same as you. I'm hoping she holds her rank because of her skill, and not her father." I tried not to impart judgement in my tone, but the thought had been crossing my mind as of late about who exactly my new boss was, and if she was going to get us caught or killed.
"Best we sit tight, and we'll—" my burner comm began to vibrate in my pocket. That meant there was info to be had from Sabine.
"I guess that's her." I slipped it from my pocket and went to answer it. The pre-designated phrase was a simple question, and she would know the answer.
"Hey. I hear your uncle is enjoying his vacation. Where did he visit again?" I asked non-chalantly. What I was really asking her was if the Alliance government had compromised her position. If that was the case, our cover was blown before we'd even met with the Krath. She would know what to answer, and I knew what her answers would mean for the operation going forward, however that was going to be...
Dominik was walking casually behind the woman, a few dozen feet away. And of course, he didn't stare at her the whole way, he glanced around and took part in viewing the city. But his peripheral was always on her. She came up to a building with polished glass. Here would be the tell-tale. A risky maneuver, but he wasn't entirely sure he was following the right person. Her next action would confirm if she was his target, or keep him guessing.
Her reflection came into view, and while his eyes were slightly off from her and the window, he could see her reflected face and eyes clearly. She was looking at him. One glance was good, but not quite enough. The second time she passed a reflective surface she was also looking at him.
She wasn't keeping him guessing.
"Target confirmed, ISB agent. I'm following, but I'm made. Dock Worker, put in your two weeks and join me." He spoke into the earwig comm device. The SIA agent was far away enough and there was too many people milling about, there was no way she'd hear him.
Zev Tantor ... Dominik had read up on his file before this mission. The prison break was hell, Dominik was there. He fought alongside a padawan, who was now a Jedi Master on the council, as a big diversion to help draw troop attention away. He almost got captured himself, and if it wasn't for the padawan sneaking a backpack full of explosive ordinance with him, he probably would have. And if he knew of a Spec Ops soldier kept in there, he would have gone in himself to break Zev out. Maybe that was exactly why no one told him. But anyone who could survive that battle and then survive the imprisonment afterwards was a tough SOB, and alright in Dominik's book.
He thought back on the man as the agent he was tailing stopped to get some food at a local vendor. Trying to maintain her cover after getting spotted? Or just hungry?
Normally when someone spots you, you retreat and find them again later. Who knows if they'd lead you on a chase for hours around town or into a trap. But this was about getting to the Krath as they resurface, and Dominik might have been letting his own feelings get in the way. Zev was too far to take over the tail for him right away, and if he kept on her she might try to shake him. She might fail.
The crowds panicked and began to chaotically flee in all directions causing a clusterfuck of a crowd like a stampeding herd of nerfs. As a man in a mask and duster screamed out into the crowd. “Give me a fair damned price not the jacked-up alliance price, you cheating bastard or I will kill everyone!” Then the man turned his gun and shot a second time this time hitting man in the crowd who was fleeing.
His gun was in his hand, and his first thought was that she was trying to kill him instead of shake him. But it was some other man causing trouble. Another agent planted to stir trouble incase of a tail?
And then the man shot someone. Along with his declaration to kill everyone. A bit overkill and incredibly flashy, but effective. And he already killed one man. If this was ISB, they had some twisted ways to cause a distraction. If it wasn't, this man needed to go down.
"Zev, gunman in the street! Take care of him, I'll follow the-" The target was gone. His gaze swept up and around the crowd, but she was gone. The food she had bought lying on the ground with a single bite. "Chit. Lost her."
2 T-73 "Judgment" Handgun (one holstered behind the back, one holstered to right leg. suppressors available for both)
“Come on, man! Let me bump around you!”The Weequay ‘Tash’ exclaimed. He was on the computer “lift” station, which was considered to be the “cherry” spot on the work rotation for Zev’s work team. Everyone knew this, and that was why Zev always used his size to his advantage and took the ‘poodoo’ spot and stayed there until the right time (usually before his break) to jump on there. Normally this was never a problem for others, but today, ‘Tash’ wanted the computer to be able to set up his date tonight with this hot little number in the “duty free” shop.
No way. I’ve been here all day.Zev needed the computer too, he had “work” to do, on top of running the lift, especially with (at least one) agent on the move.
‘Why now? I’ll owe you. Come on, you Schutta..’That didn’t help.
No, now take my spot.
Then he heard the call over his earpiece. The agent was made, he had to go to work, for real this time.
Screw this…He said, throwing down the latching tool.I’m done carrying this team, I quit!Well. that escalated quickly, as he stormed off the immediate worksite, the foreman came running his way, preparing to threaten him with a bad reference, Zev just stopped, and stared at the man who was immediately intimidated and stepped out of his path. Going into the break room, Tantor grabbed his jacket and his pack and made his way out quickly. There was a case of chaos running rampant in the aisles and thruways of the starport. Something was happening, and Zev heard it, the weapons fire.
Confirmation came from the agent, Dominik Borra
according to his datapad. Using some back paths, Zev wanted no attention on him as he clicked a quick response to his colleagueCopy that., there were too many onlookers, too many potential hostages for any negotiation. Zev wasn’t going to try and talk the guy down.
Pulling a sidearm, and attaching a suppressor, he took a position to the side and yelled out “GUN DOWN!”before firing two shots. One shot slammed into the blaster, the other into the shoulder flap of the man’s duster. He had no intention of hitting the maniac unless he had to, but the point of his shot was to prove he could any time he wanted to.
Tapping his ear-piece, he sent out a confirmation.”Gunmen secured, you need me somewhere else?” Security was coming in in droves, typically slow, that was his cue to disappear.
‘At least pretty boy is good for something other than to look at...’ She thought to herself. She let out a playful laugh. Had to sell the cover right? “Haha, yeah. He went off to Alderaan to see the mountains. His liner made it to Balmorra, but he gave me a call and told me his flight here is delayed. I bumped into Karen though, so we’re going to get some beers.”
Her accent was devoid of the refined, Imperial cant she had grown up with on Bastion. Instead, it carried a filtered cadence devoid of any definitive accent. Perhaps Coruscanti? A gritty, sandpaper tone accompanied the lack of accent. Had the call not come in from a secure line, and had the code phrase not been used - it was altogether likely that Kazian may not have recognized it as being Sabine’s - although it still sounded similar. Just... pleasant instead of the usual nature it carried.
“You can get some dinner with the boys if you want. I’ll be home soon.” At that, the line would click and Sabine would continue on with her casual, though purposeful gait. She had time to kill, and meandered along the route to the safehouse as she checked for any further surveillance...
A few hours later...
A rhythmic knock would reverberate on the door of the safehouse, and Sabine would slide her keycard onto the scanner soon after. The door would slide open, and a tanned, bald version of the ISB agent would walk through the door. Her eyes met those of Jon first, then of Kazian. Her expression was severe, yet lacked any sense of urgency that would indicate trouble. The door closed and locked behind her. “Things became a bit interesting there for a moment, but we are good. I think the SIA knows ISB agents are here though.”
She threw her bag on the table in the living room and walked over to the sink in the bathroom. She left the door open as she inspected herself in the mirror, and set about removing the cosmetic skull cap. “I trust you both had a relaxing afternoon?” Her tone was not pleasant; in fact, it was downright accusatory. Soon, she would materialize from the bathroom devoid of the skull cap, with shoulder length blonde hair loosely hanging down in a stylish bob. She ran her hand through the hair, loosening the strands and massaging her scalp from the restrictive bun that had dominated her hair for... quite a while.
The yell of 'gun down' then blaster shot from the angry man in crowds' hand he looked at his now empty hand stunned and then to where his blasted blaster had flung off too. Yet before he could even react another shot fired into the left shoulder of his duster. He stumbled back a few feet, almost losing his footing but he caught himself. The man then looked darts in the direction from which the shots had been fired. A hulking figure with his finger on the trigger, time to run. The man took off in westerly direction straight into the crowds of panic people.
As the man ran taking off on foot through the crowds trying to lose the man with the gun he grabbed his comm, he knew already the city would be on alert and the guard would be closing in quick on commerce district. He pulled his mask and helmet free letting it fall to the ground and shed his duster letting it fall into the crowd as he ran. He then spoke into comm. "Active shooter on core street of the commerce district. I was fired at twice, and he shot a civilian. I need back up the streets are in a panic, this maniac is a hulking brute as well you can't miss him." The man began to slow his pace in the panicked crowd as all his disguise had been shed standing fully in a Tetan Guard uniform a dent in his puldrons from the blaster shot.
With that Tetan guards began to storm Core Street of the Commerce district. A young man in a full black beard and thick short black hair with a dent in his shoulder pauldron was talking to more ranking officer. As some of the guards began to slowly put the civilians behind them moving in the direction of Zev Tantor .
Jason looked at his holo screen, he too had lost his target in the crowd and facial recognition couldn't pick them up. Whom ever they were they weren't SIA who was tailing them. Yet they had definitely had skill in espionage, only a spy could disappear that easily. He shifted through several feeds and couldn't pick up anything. An alert came up on his Holo that security was moving in on the commerce district. That was good at least it would tie SIA up for a bit and give him time to figure out who the new guests were.
He tapped into his comms to another agent on the ground asking them if there were any complications with the other two. The agent reported back all clear no noticeable SIA agents in the area. Though that didn't mean anything they could have used better agents and who knew how infested Cinnagar was with spies, well he knew to a degree. Then again Tetan's had been good at the shadow game for a lot longer than Alliance or most major government the galaxy currently. Jason then stood up from his chair and grabbed his flight jacket denoting him as a Major in Tetan Air guard with Royal symbol of House Keto below that denoting him as a former member of the Royal guard.
"Time to find the strangers in town." He said to himself as he put his jacket on and walked out of his office. His heading towards one of his agents on the ground who had last seen one of the others new to this fine city. A city Jason had made his home long ago after well that was a tale for another time.
When Sabine finally arrived I hardly recognized her. Had she not known how to acces the safehouse I may have actually thought she was someone else. It went to show what we were up against if she thought the SIA already had their sights on us.
I couldn't say that our wait had been relaxing. It had been quite tense, but my preperations were made. Guns ready in case it all went wrong, plans reviewed in case it went off without a hitch. Somehow that didn't seem like the case. I had tuned into local holochannels as well, and the reports on a shooting in the market nearby were certain to have been Sabine's holdup.
I kept returning to Onderon in my mind, and how quickly the SIA had been upon us. CompForce had been damned near useless and I had paid the price on that. Now I wondered if the SIA knew more than we did. After all, they served the longest standing galactic hegemon in recent history, and they hadn't spent the last decade cutting eachothers throats just to make bureaucrats smile. The ISB, sadly, was in the underdog position here.
"I take it the action down in the market was your distraction? That ought to keep them occupied for a bit. So long as their eyes aren't on us or our Krath contact, we're clear. Even if SIA knows we're here, they may not know our intentions. Krath should be here soon, no?"
If agent Vigilant—or rather Blen Pavond—hadn't had the foresight to inform Jon about Korvan being the next one through the door of the safe house, Jon might have put a hole in the head of that tanned, bald stranger without a second thought after all that waiting around.
His eyes stayed sharp on her, tracking every move she made as she shed her disguise, still not entirely convinced he was looking at the Grand Moff's daughter herself.
"Yeah? And how long 'til they start connecting the dots, huh?" Jon muttered, glancing between the two ISB agents. First rendezvous and there was already hot trouble stirring. "Given the number those Krath did on the Alliance, any blue spook not keeping an eye out for them must be damn stupid."
It took some time, but Jason met up with one of his agents, a woman dressed in like a homeless person just wondering the street muttering to herself. He looked at her and she stared into his mesmerizing eyes for a moment before pulling herself away. "Where are they?" She smirked and nodded towards an old building just up ahead. Jason then reached into his pocket and pulled out an old royal coin and flipped to the woman. "Thank you." He said, giving her a wink as he headed towards the building leaving the agent behind though she was an unknowing agent. As soon as he walked away from her, she started muttering to herself about nonsense.
Jason didn't even reach for his side arm as he approached the building. As he did though his comm went off and he reached for it pulling it up. He read the text on the screen, he then looked towards where he knew the nearest camera was to this building. "Oh, so that is game." He said to himself as he came to the door of the Safehouse. He then lift his hand and knocked three times on the door.
"I know you are in there!" He said loudly enough that those beyond the door could hear him. He paused for a moment thinking his words through carefully, not wanting to spook the inhabitants and also not wanting to reveal too much. "I hear you're looking for something. I may know how to get you what you seek."
"I take it the action down in the market was your distraction? That ought to keep them occupied for a bit. So long as their eyes aren't on us or our Krath contact, we're clear. Even if SIA knows we're here, they may not know our intentions. Krath should be here soon, no?"
“I don’t know what it was.” Sabine said, a hint of frustration in her voice - although it wasn’t directed at Kazian per se. “It could have just been some crazy person going wild for all I know, but It did give me an opportunity to break away from whomever was following me.”
She didn’t like this - not one bit. Ideally, their infiltration would have gone completely undiscovered, permitting them the opportunity to meet with the Krath methodically. But instead, the operation had gone to kark and it hadn’t even begun yet.
"Yeah? And how long 'til they start connecting the dots, huh?" Jon muttered, glancing between the two ISB agents. First rendezvous and there was already hot trouble stirring. "Given the number those Krath did on the Alliance, any blue spook not keeping an eye out for them must be damn stupid."
“I'm sure that’s why they were watching the spaceport, particularly the refugee flights from Onderon - I should have expected that!” Go figure, the boss of the operation would be the one to endanger it. It was clear that despite her bravado, and the usual manner in which she carried herself as if she were superior to her colleagues - she was just as hard on herself.
She was just about to speak again when a loud knock could be heard on the door.
She pulled on the holdout blaster strapped to the small of her back and instinctively placed a finger on her lips - the universal signal for the others to be quiet. Slowly, she walked over to the door and inched her ear to the panel.
"I know you are in there!" He said loudly enough that those beyond the door could hear him. He paused for a moment thinking his words through carefully, not wanting to spook the inhabitants and also not wanting to reveal too much. "I hear you're looking for something. I may know how to get you what you seek."
She let out a silent breath. It was code, as obvious as it was. It was meant to be used in the market square when she was perusing one of the fruit kiosks... not here. Even still, the code checked out. She peered out the door and it was a man standing there. She motioned for Jon and Kazian to ready themselves before she opened the door and ushered the man in. She kept her holdout pistol trained on him as the door slid shut. “You have thirty seconds to explain what the feck happened, and why you’re deviating from the plan.”
As soon as he was pulled in he shoved his comm out towards Sabine Korvan
, as the woman demanded answer Jason spoke more in his native Balmorran mixed with imperial accent. “Look all of you were being followed by Narco agents the moment you landed. How they tracked you or knew I don’t know. I had to improvise.” He didn’t reveal the fact the krath had been tracking them the moment they arrived or the fact he had someone that knew Sia’s movements.
“So, if the Narcos are out there. You want to make a deal or what?” The comm would reveal the truth of improvised meeting to go down as a drug deal just in case. The comm held several command words as to what the deal was truly about, and deep secrets held within like the matter of the rulers-hip of Teta itself.
2 T-73 "Judgment" Handgun (one holstered behind the back, one holstered to right leg. suppressors available for both)
It took getting to the rooftops and running across a couple of them to ditch planetary security, but he did. This was not fun to do but there was no other choice, and sometimes doing something bad will lead you to something good. If this was “good” what he was seeing. There, on the ground below him were several known Krath associates. They didn’t know he was there because they were freely talking about planned operations.
Yeah, right.
He may be new to this “spy business” crap, but Zev wasn’t stupid. These bums knew when they were being surveilled. That and they were now on the move. No doubt they were leading him to a trap…
Alright, I’ll bite.
Tapping his earpiece, and then a rung on his belt, Tantor activated his encrypted locator beacon. Hopefully the other agent would find him if he was needed.
Kazian Blackwood
|
Jon Hojkstra
|
Phoenix Kasari
|
Dominik Borra
