The Doctor and the Duchess

[Serasai Onashi]

O'Hurn was, to Onashi, one of the prime examples of the type of soldier that would do well as a Mercenary. But to all the sorrows, he wasn't, he was a Professional. Someone who fought for ideals and other nonsensical things not worth the amount of blood spilt for them. Well, sometimes that's what they were. Tur'enne was that to be sure; he suspected that O'Hurn just liked fighting, and was looking for something worth fighting for.

Onashi didn't respect his choice, but then, he felt that there were very few things worth dying for. He himself was only a mercenary for decidedly non-martial reasons. When someone does something for long enough, they grow used to it. When they do it for even longer, they grow to enjoy it in its familiarity. He enjoyed his job now, especially as it deprived war of all its 'glorious' undertones, making it a messy job, which was all it should be.

"Yeah?"

He opened the door to see O'Hurn already up, and looking at him with a reserved but still slightly disdaining expression.

"Briefing."

The man nodded once, and shouldered his much larger bulk past him. Onashi let him pass, and followed along sedately, walking through the common area (and giving a sidelong glance at Tur'enne), and making his way to the cockpit, and the last member of their little team here at the moment, to get him into the common area so the Mercenary wouldn't be so bored anymore.

[John Glayde]

"...so it must be a magnetically contained tube o' plasma, confined within some sort o' energy field. Logically, that field has tae operate in both directions, an' since the bolts fired by blasters are also made o' plasma..."

John gave an appreciated nod, his admittedly lesser understanding of science finding no fault in the Corporal's logic. "So the answer to my question was: 'Yes, the Jedi really could deflect weapons fire like that'?" He frowned, a mix of enlightenment and disappointment flashing across his face. "And there was me thinking it was just special effects."

Oran flashed a smile, pleased to have found such a willing vict- correction, audience. Granted, the topic had been insanely trivial, but he'd relished the opportunity to flaunt his intellect in front of a someone who didn't react with the usual insults, mockery, or demands for silence. From the look of her expression - which admittedly, he could only see from the side - however, Selinica wasn't nearly so impressed. Oran's brows tugged downwards in a disappointed frown.

A cough from beside the door drew the attention of both SpecForce occupants of the cockpit towards the main entrance. Glayde threw Onashi a nod of recognition. "Can I help you, Lieutenant?"

[Serasai Onashi]

Onashi had only caught the tail end of the conversation, and though he liked the kid well enough, he was glad enough that Oran hadn't felt the need to try the same thing with him.

When Glayde noticed him, once again, he made that odd nod-bow.

"Dalgas is calling us all to the common area to begin the briefing."

[John Glayde]

John nodded, both to Serasai and himself. "Thank you, Lieutenant," he directed at the man in the doorway. Glayde wasn't entirely sure what to make of him; he'd been sent their way by SpecOps, and was one of the mercenaries that the agency seemed to expend a fair portion of their budget on employing. That they had chosen to assign him specifically meant one of two things: either he was a highly skilled agent that they were lucky to have, or he was the only one not talented enough to be assigned anywhere else.

Glayde had decided to reserve judgement, at least for now. "Come on," he muttered to Corporal Jsorra, rising to his feet. "That means you, too."

Tugging down at the front of the jacket that had bunched up while he was sitting, he half-glanced at Miriya, waiting for her protest. She offered none, thankfully. It seemed that Colonel Dalgas' instructions trumped her own personal reluctance for him to leave. "Set us down on the planet; I'll let you know what the plan is as soon as I do."

She muttered something under her breath; Glayde felt somewhat glad that he didn't completely catch it.

Turning back towards the exit, and the waiting Onashi, he flashed a half-smile, half-wince. "After you, Lieutenant."

[Serasai Onashi]

"After you, Lieutenant."

Onashi's expression remained impassive (or as impassive as his default uninterested expression could be) as he nodded in return to Glayde's statement. He then proceeded to stride back into the common area, where Tur'enne and O'Hurn were waiting with the Colonel. He eyes slid over Tur'enne easily; he recognised that this was not the time to be sidetracked by pleasurable distractions and reigned his impulses in with the ease of a militarily disciplined man.

“Ah, John,” Dalgas said. “Good. Now we can begin.”

He pressed a single button on the datapad before him, causing the hologram projector in the centre of the table to bring up a plan of the city they were landing in.

“We are currently waiting on further information from our forward man, Elgrin, about any places that we should focus on,” he began. “But it shouldn't be too difficult. We aren't here to blow things up. Well, not yet at least. We'll see when we get further along.”

He cast a slightly humorous glance Onashi's way before continuing. “We will set up operations and scout out the city, and hopefully Elgrin will have gotten in touch with us by then, or else we'll have to continue the hard way. The Duchess will undoubtedly be held with security, so our main objective is to make as little noise as possible and then let the word spread that she is alive after we get off the planet and she is safely on this ship.”

Dalgas schooled his expression into a stern one. “For the scouting, I want each of you to comm Jsorra about the layout of the native police forces and military, where there are large concentrations of them, and possible escape routes. There will be no weapons.” Onashi made a grunt of displeasure, and Dalgas seemingly ignored the man, saying, “We are not expected, and as far as we know, they are not even on alert for trouble. Carrying weapons will be a cause for more scrutiny than we want at the moment.

“Any questions so far?”

[Jehkran Dmath]

'Any chance I can get an ID on this Duchees..."

A hand went up. A smile did too. It was coy, it was charming, it was Jehkran. He had just slipped in. A new face to this side of the SpecForce. Normally he was working the urban setting, the ground, and simply attacking. Little briefing in that field of work, but he wasn't a fish out of water. The white hair, young face, Echani features could be found in many files throughout the Rebellion.

He had done enough field work to be familiar with just about anything. He knew the ins. He knew the outs. Jehkran was a regular ol' student of the game. All the work he had put in had come out, and finally he was in a good spot.

Some common room, raising his hand, asking a question, late to briefing, with few worries beside a single target. No reason to bring weapons was a bit of a downer, he was with Onashi on that one, but at least there wasn't such a high chance he would die. Jehkran loved fighting, but he wasn't exactly exhilerated by suicide missions.

Of course, he survived them. He was still around to ask silly questions, however that didn't mean he enjoyed being the underdog. Standing in the back of the room, his lowered his hands, held the smile, and tried to play as innocent as possible. Hopefully no one would highlight his tardiness.

[Sogan Dalgas]

“Not just yet, Dmath, one aspect of the mission at a time,” Dalgas replied patiently. Jehkran was chosen for much the same strengths that Onashi touted when SpecOps offered him, and that was an all around strength in most types of combat. The Echani wasn't as experienced as Onashi, but Dmath had one redeeming quality that Onashi would seemingly never have: loyalty to the cause. That loyalty was worth any number of mercenaries like Onashi, as far as Dalgas was concerned. Onashi's sense of honour would not allow him to break the contract he had signed when joining with the Alliance, but in the end he was still motivated by money, or some other cause that was yet unknown. “That will wait until we have more information from Elgrin, or we have to break out the files we have from Intel, which are somewhat dated and so are unreliable compared to whatever Elgrin may have.”

He surveyed the now slightly crowded common room. “Are there any other questions?”

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

Tur'enne did try her very hardest not to make a face at the mention of going in unarmed, but a small scrunching of her nose couldn't be helped. A side blaster at the very least seemed more than appropriate to her and the looks a few others gave proved she wasn't alone in that thought. It could be concealed easy enough, after all. There was a good moment (while that Echani was getting his question answered) where she began contemplating the possibilities and probabilities of being able to sneak one out anyway and not get flack for it. It was tempting...real tempting. She'd probably let her thoughts go back to it just before they were getting ready to head out.

But with that little issue left to be decided on later...(And what were they gonna do if she brought one measly little blaster with her anyway? Court-martial her? Doubtful, they hadn't done it yet for half the skrag she'd gone and pulled some times...damn it Charles, get off that thought!)...she was left to actually address the question she actually had that wouldn't get her instantly in trouble. "This...scouting bit. We all going solo? Teams? Pairs? Judging by the lack of firepower we'll be posing as tourists or somesuch, I'm guessing...?"

[Kyran O'Hurn]

Oh this mission was just getting more and more fun for Ky. No getting to jump out of a perfectly good spacecraft, no getting to haul around weapons. To say he wasn't too happy about having to operate in a potentially hostile environment without even a side arm was an understatement.

Letting out a slight sigh Ky listened to the young Lieutenant's questions.

"Oh god no..." He couldn't help but think. No weapons was one thing, but he'd sooner stay on the ship then walk around like a fraken tourist. If someone broke out the colourful and usually flowered surf shirts, he was out of here. Fatigues and camo were he was at. If he had wanted to play dress up he would have joined the spooks.

He was starting to wonder what he had been drafted into. Sure the Pathfinder's were used to reconnaissance work, but it wasn't at the top of their list of things to do. But considering he had been told that the man in front of him giving the briefing had apparently asked for someone to handle weapons, there had to be some action coming. He'd give the operation a chance, maybe he'd even get to blow something up. Yes... that would make all the sneaking around worth it.

Breaking from his thoughts he started listening again waiting for the answer to the questions that had been posed.

[Sogan Dalgas]

Dalgas smiled at the numerous looks of disappointment and even disgruntlement (this expression was mirrored on both O'Hurn and Onashi's faces) that flashed around the room. He picked up a normal looking folder, and opening it, he turned it over and let numerous small envelopes spill out, enough for each one of the gathered military personnel, in fact.

“We will be playing tourists, but not civilian tourists, Jr. Lieutenant, to answer your second question first. Thanks to Lieutenant Onashi and his contacts with his mercenary unit leaders, we managed to assign each of you a fabricated identity as a mercenary. Note that these are not real, but merely designed to look real, and will not stand up to an intensive background check. That is why we are going without weapons; if any of the Empire wish to prove their superiority over you, they will confiscate your weapon and detain you. Without a weapon, you will not classify as a threat, and most likely will only be bullied before they let you go.”

He picked one up, and glanced at the name written on the envelope in basic before tossing it to Tur'enne, who caught it deftly. The process continued while Dalgas continued the briefing.

“So, our covers are that of a team of mercenaries granted leave before our next assignment, which, conveniently, only I as team leader know,” he pulled his own datacard out (slightly beaten looking, with the design of an orange circle on a white field above a pair of silhouetted blaster rifles displayed on one side) and slid it into the projector, which shifted from a view of the city to a fairly simple view of a Mercenary Major's information with a picture of the Colonel prominently displayed. “So I want you to treat this like a low-priority assignment. The thrust of this reconnaissance is to familiarise ourselves with the city and the normal locations of Imperial troops and their allies, not to come up with a plan right away on what to destroy when, or formulate attack patterns based on information we don't even have yet. We aren't spooks or even under the purview of Intelligence, so we will not be handling this like an Intel Operation.”

Dalgas tossed Dmath his mercenary datacard, finishing the passing out of the fake datacards, leaving one sitting in front of him. “To answer your second question, we have three people within this room who have the bearing and experience to convincingly pose as mercenaries beyond that of a cursory examination. Obviously there is Lt. Onashi, there is myself, and then there is Captain Glayde. Thus we will go in pairs, with one of you attaching to one of us to hopefully lessen the chance of our cover being blown. Jsorra, though you have a card, you will stay with the ship and monitor communications. Comm me immediately should we have any word from Elgrin, or if there is some trouble.”

He folded his hands on the table in front of him. “The pairs that have been decided are: myself and Sergeant O'Hurn, Captain Glayde and Corporal Dmath, Lieutenant Onashi and Jr. Lieutenant Tur'enne. Thanks to Onashi we were able to arrange these datacards free of charge, so each of you will receive a stipend of credits to spend in most any manner you choose, as long as you keep aware of concentrations of security and Imperial personnel and the layout of the city. Do any of you have questions, or problems with the partner I have chosen?”

Onashi nodded. “I do, Colonel,” he grunted, looking a bit unhappy; Dalgas assumed that it was either the way he worded Onashi's involvement in getting the datacards, or his decision to partner him with Tur'enne. “How many creds are we getting? And where is the nearest place that sells food?”

[Oran Jsorra]

Stay on the ship and monitor communications. At last: an assignment that he could accept without any reservations. Granted, it was hardly the most glamourous of the potential assignments, and listening in to the bland, minimalist chit-chat that usually made it across military channels on this kind of information gathering expedition was unlikely to be more than a couple of steps away from mind-numbing monotony. But, it did come with the advantage of minimal risk of being shot which, in Oran's book, was a major plus.

The opportunity to be alone on the ship with Miriya as well was particularly enticing: perhaps without all the male bravado and testosterone filling the ship and obscuring her senses, Oran's natural charm and intellect might stand a better chance of winning her over.

Onashi's second question was somewhat simplistic, but Oran was in a good enough mood to remain plaonic. "I'll access th' local comm network," he offered, chiming in from his corner at the back of the common area. "Make sure ev'ryone has a map o' th' surrounding area and any relevant utilities and establishments."

[John Glayde]

"You'll have enough," Glayde added, with a stern look in Onashi's direction, "For basic food and provisions, with a little extra to flash around if necessary. That doesn't extend to pricy souvenirs, black market munitions, gambling expenses, or -" He winced slightly, vaguely floundering for a vague enough term to cover any of the illicit back-street services they might stumble upon. "- any additional or collateral expenses you may be dreaming up at this point."

He glanced briefly at Dalgas, who displayed no protest to the Captain chiming in with a few words of his own. Of course, that could just have been the result of the guy being inherantly unreadable; he decided it was best to play it safe, and keep it brief. "This is recon, not shoreleave. Stay sharp, stay sober, and stay safe." He paused, deciding to make Onashi the subject of his focus again. A slight hint of a smile quirked at his lips. "And stay single - I don't want those trashy novels of yours giving you any ideas."

He turned back to Dalgas, the two officers exchanging a brief, wordless nod. "Permission to get the hell on with this, Colonel?"

[Selinica Miriya]

Being alone in the cockpit - her cockpit - allowed Sel some 'breathing room'. It didn't discredit the fact that she was more than ready to gut anything from an atom on up the food chain through to rancors and beyond, as her mood was on the edge of something that dark, but being left in a room with herself gave her some shred of time to take the edge off - or at least dull it a micro of a bit. She hadn't had a drink since Raxus Prime (John had made sure of it, for obvious reasons) and there'd been nearly so little room or secrecy for her to even beat the living frell out of a cushion, never mind taking bodily harm to a live person, which was always infinitely more satisfying, times infinity squared and then some.

Her emotions had been riding something akin to bloodlust for a time, but there was something warm and battered tucked somewhere to the left of center of her soul, like a security blanket that had been loved to its limits over the years of ownership: She had family. Someone who wouldn't turn their back on her regardless of anything and everything, damn the universe to hell if they convinced him otherwise. That... well, it meant enough for her to listen to him and give him her respect, if grudgingly. Showing gratefulness wasn't exactly something in her regular skillset.

Selinca Miriya Cailis pulled the headset off of her ears and looped it around her slender neck, pressing out a sigh of finality once the landing and docking processes had been run and completed. Her work, for now, was done and she found herself craning an ear to try and catch snippets of the conversation, but much of the effort was to no avail. Sighing, she slouched in her seat a little and propped her head up on one hand, elbow digging into armrest. This tactic was considerably less attention-grabbing than beating the hell out of the edge of the console, which was a good thing, anyway. Edges had a pretty solid history of not being kind to bodies when force was applied. Even rounded edges had their own agenda.

She found herself wondering when something was going to happen and what that something was. After all the hours spent in the pilot seat, she was starting to get antsy. Antsy wasn't something appealing on a gal toting a undercooked fury burger with a side of annoyance fries and kill-something cola.

I'm stuck with the ship, anyway, I figure. Well, bloody frackin' good, then. Not like I'd trust any of those testosterone-riddled meatheads with my baby.

She reached out and rubbed the edge of the console lovingly. "That's my girl."

[Sogan Dalgas]

Captain Glayde's reply was well said, and the Colonel gave him tacit but understated praise when, he made eye contact with Glayde and nodded his approval.

“The only idea those books would give me is the idea that I could somehow sneak away, find this Duchess and elope with her after falling in love at first sight,” the Lieutenant replied. “While evading both the Empire, and you as well for my dereliction of duty in the name of love.”

I wonder, Dalgas wondered, if anyone but myself understood the reasoning behind the pairs.

“I sincerely doubt that Onashi will be so insensitive as to go to a prostitute or any other such person while in the company of Jr Lieutenant Tur'enne,” he said gently, not even looking in Onashi's direction. The mercenary grunted a laugh, but didn't offer any more words. Dalgas continued.

“I will give Captain Glayde the initiative as to which team will head in which direction. You have fifteen minutes to prepare yourselves. Dismissed.”

[Kyran O'Hurn]

Ky took the dossier that he was handed and listened to the last of the breifing before spinning on his heel and walking back toward the rear of the ship. He didn't really care who he worked with, well short of Onashi. Ky was pretty sure that he would have ended up trying to kill the former mercenary because of some stupid stunt he would pull.

At least with Dalgas he could be fairly confident that he was going to be working with an officer who knew the value of a senior non-comm. And if not, well, Ky had enough self discipline not to slug a Colonel no matter how stupid they might get.

That thought brought a slight smirk to his face as he made his way back to his temporary quarters. While he didn't need some loud tourist shirt, but fatigues probably wouldn't go over all that well either. Good thing they'd told him to pack something... relaxed... before he had deployed.

Fifteen minutes later he was back in the common area dressed in a pair blue jeans, a white T-shirt, and a brown leather bomber jacket. The only thing that resembled anything military were the black boots he was wearing, but thankfully the rebellion weren't exactly sticklers for spit shinned boots, and so the scuffs and dirt that covered them made them look like they could have belonged to any labourer. The only thing missing was a DC-15s blaster in a shoulder holster under his jacket, but the Colonel had been right. That would have drawn too much attention, even if they were posing as mercs.

[John Glayde]

Sorry for the hold-up, guys! Lets see if we can't get this rolling again.

Surface - Baraboo

Glayde stepped off the loading ramp, and crunched his head from side to side. It was nice to breathe fresh air again instead of the bottled stuff they were stuck with inside the ship, even if it did come with its own rather distinctive odor on this world. They'd already powered down the gravity generators inside the ship, so had got the awkward and disorientating transition out of the way already in the privacy of their own ship. Even so, the cobbled together armour that apparently made him look like a mercenary weighed heavily on his shoulders; and frankly, he felt it made him look like an idiot. Sure, it looked 'cool' and vaguly intimidatin, but cobbling together protective equipment that wasn't designed to mesh was stupid, and more often than not lead to exploitable gaps, which people with Glayde's level of training were well versed in exploiting. He sighed. "I guess we're stupid mercenaries," he muttered under his breath.

He forced his attention back to the situation at hand. "We're going to keep this nice and straight-forward," he explained, trying to fold his arms across his chest, but founding that the combined armour fragments made that somewhat difficult. He settled for gripping one wrist in a display of adjusting a vambrace instead. "Onashi and Tur'enne: you are focussing on the eastern half of the settlement, while Dmath and myself will concentrate on the west. We're analysing the disposition of the security measures in the area, and analysing the terrain for any possible tactical benefits."

He glanced briefly towards the Colonel. "Meanwhile, Dalgas and O'Hurn will attempt to establish contact with our -" He fumbled for a synonym. "- contact." He shrugged, almost imperceptibly in the Colonel's direction. Damned Basic and its lack of sufficient words.

"We'll relying on public transport to get from the landing site to the settlement on the mainland. Stay sharp, but for Force's sake stay casual - we don't want to arouse suspicion." He shot Onashi a lingering look, to emphasise his point.

"Alright then people; lets move out."

[Serasai Onashi]

Onashi immediately recognised O'Hurn's jacket style. He wore a similar jacket himself, thinner and slightly longer, without the large collar. It had been worn by his many times over great grandfather during the last great planetary war his people had fought and conquered in. It had been repaired and cleaned ever since to the point that one could have made the argument that it was only a descendant of the jacket his grandfather had worn, but Onashi knew the spirit of his grandfather still imbued it. It had the distinction of being fitted with armour within the layers of cloth, making it slightly more useful than normal clothing. It still bore the insignia of his ancestor's fighting unit, along with his own. He wore it open, revealing the white shirt of fine but worn material underneath. He wore brown worn jackboots that had once belonged to his father.

He snorted softly at Glayde's veiled remark. I don't trust you to be a professional warrior, was in essence what the man was saying. He understood that his 'attitude' did not lend itself to being liked, but he wondered if anyone but Dalgas knew how many battles he had survived, despite his young age.

"The east," he replied, nodding (or doing that damnable bow again). The place of the sunrise - he approved. He glanced over to Dalgas, who wore greatly understated armour underneath a long coat. He carried a briefcase that held faked documents and military plans, while within a secure compartment were the actual documents and plans that would be brought out in company with their contact. He turned to Tur'enne, and smirked.

"First place I'm looking," he murmured, "is inside an eatery."

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

Tur'enne wasn't too happy with being stuck with Onashi as she had this distinct impression that it was probably to play babysitter more than anything else, though the thought of her getting anyone to behave themselves was laughable. The Colonel seemed to trust him well enough though, so she'd do as she was told (For now came the mental add-on). Besides, it'd give her a chance to actually see what type of man the mercenary was... and probably more than enough opportunities to mess with him some more since she wouldn't be under the constant watch of everyone else. Mission and all, there wasn't any reason to not have at least a little fun.

When it came to attire she'd chosen for simplicity, finding the mismatched armor thing to be a little too ridiculous for her (She was a girl after all). So Charles settled on a black tank top under a two-years-past-fashionable slate gray jacket whose arms were covered in various patches ranging from band logos to just a simple star that had designs drawn on it with a bit of paint. All in all she'd have looked like any other casual, no-good, 20-something year old female, but she was playing mercenary and that meant she got to wear the one thing that might give her some sort of credentials without drawing too much attention and that was a pair of black pants adorned with a set of yellow stripes going down one of the legs. She'd earned the damned things and like hell if she wasn't going to show them off every so often. Somewhere in the back of her mind she was overly amused with it all... and then her attention snapped back with the Captain dishing out where everyone was going off to.

East seemed well and good with her, and the smirk Onashi gave her was met with a small shake of her head, a roll of her eyes, but all the while some cheeky little grin that let on she wasn't really annoyed by the guy.

"You're a brave one, aint ya? Nothing better than local seafood with a side order of local stomach flu. But if you want to be curled up in a fetal position all day tomorrow on the ship, be my guest."

[Serasai Onashi]

"Seafood does seem like a good idea," he replied, making his way along to the east. "But I would settle for something that does not remind me of rations. Spending that long in space between missions is a crime. Least this pays well."

He smirked, making note of the two Stormtroopers standing on either side of the archway allowing entrance from the starport to the eastern part of the settlement. He said the last part with a bit of uncharacteristic vehemence, allowing the Stormtroopers to deduce his identity as a mercenary.

"Keep an eye out, remember," he reminded her. "My stomach will revolt soon enough without something filling it."