Illumination - Lit from Within

[Estelle Russard]

Cont. from Part 1 (http://www.sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?s=&threadid=38646)


It started a splendid evening.

Estelle would recall later how she had wondered at the breathtaking beauty of the sunset and how at peace it had made her feel. The seamless expanse of the Imperial Center sky above kaleidascoping into ever deepening hues of pink, orange, purple and blue as the night seeped its inky depths over the city.

Standing outside on the upstairs balcony, Jason Russard placed his hand over his daughter's own as it rested upon the stone railing.

She was dressed elegantly in white silk, her slim body outlined to perfection in the floor length gown. She looked the picture of a vital, blossoming woman standing there in the changing light. Jason wondered how she could have grown up so quickly. And how had he missed it?

"Lovely night for a party" he mused aloud.

Estelle responded, looking across at the view "Beautiful."

Jason nodded. "Im sorry James couldn't come with you. You say he has exams?"

"Yes, tomorrow." Her answer was a little distracted. James' decision not to come tonight had worried Estelle being on the heels, as it were, of their meeting with the Rebel recruiter, Grace. It was a sudden choice, but his excuse was hard to argue with. They both had much on their minds other than their academics.

Estelle turned to give her father the courtesy of a fuller explanation. "He is worried he wont pass and so needs to study tonight."

It was Jason's night. He deserved to enjoy it. He had worked so hard and tonight he got to revell in it a little. She curled her hand affectionately around his fingers. "He asked me to tell you he was sorry he couldn't be here" she smiled, "At your moment of glory I believe were his exact words"

Jason smiled back. James was a good boy, smart too. "Well, next party then" he returned, "and no excuses."

"I'll tell him"

"Good. The guests will be arriving soon, Id best go downstairs and check that the crystal is clean. Cant have all those CEO types getting drunk on smudged crystal, now, can we"

"I'll check on Grandpa"

"Dont be long, Elle." Jason tugged on his waistcoat and straightened his back as he left Estelle to enjoy the remaining minutes of the sunset.

Jason Russard the Younger, was a handsome man in his early fifties. His solid frame lent itself to the character of the man within - strong, fit, dependable. Thick wavy brown hair, only slightly peppered with white, framed an intelligent and genial face. The soft brown eyes he shared with is daughter smiled easily, and often, yet held the light of integrity and directness that had made him trusted in all his enterprises. He was a man well respected by friends and aquaintances alike and had the reputation of being shrewd, yet fair, in all his business dealings.

And his character held him in good stead, as his most recent success proved -- a lucrative contract with the Imperials for the research and development of a new bodysuit , and the reason for the night's celebrations. It was to be a small affair - 60 guests or so - family, friends and important personalities ranging from representatives of the Army whom the contract directly connects with, as well as other prominent mercantile associates who (along with never wasting an opportunity to network) wished to join in their congratulations.

Jason was very excitied.

Jason Russard, the Elder and patriach of the Russard Dynasty was not quite as thrilled, as Estelle quickly realised upon entering his drawing room. A less solid, less fit and slightly less dependable looking image of his son, Jason the Elder still however maintained the family shrewdness in his eyes. A deep blue in contrast to the rest of the family, his eyes also bore an inscruitablility that was quite impregnable. In years past, such guile had helped him build his small empire, of which they all still prospered. However, Jason seemed to play his thoughts close to his chest, keeping even Estelle at a distance these days.

"Grandpa! You look very dashing." She stepped up to him and straightened his bowtie. "Even a little piratical with that bad-boy scowl"

The old man tried, but he could not help cracking the ghost of a smile.

"I have been called worse things." he added with a wink.

"Oh, I dont doubt it for a moment" Estelle chuckled back.

"You, on the other hand, little robin, look like an angel. No one is going to pay any attention to your father, and that will make him so mad."

He really was a pirate, Estelle thought.

She hooked her arm through his and they walked toward the door, Lissel, the old man's nurse, stepping to fall in after them. She, too, looked lovely in a shimmering gown of pale blue.

"Now you promise to be good tonight, Grandpa. You know how proud Daddy is, despite you being so cranky about it all."

Jason the Elder croaked "of course" and Estelle knew it took a lot of effort for him to even choke out that much response. The old man simply was not happy about the new contract. Not happy at all.

Taking the elevator down to the first floor, the trio entered into the receiving area in preparation to greet the guests.

[Naomi Lang]

Soft brown eyes studied the brilliant reds and oranges of the Coruscant sunset. Ruby lips curled into an appreciating smile as the colors gradual shifted to the darker hues of night. Naomi Lang, lieutenant of the Inquisitoriate and member of Project Nightmare, leaned back into the plush seats a military speeder fashioned as a limousine.

“Sure is a clear night.” Naomi, shaken out of her reverie, turned to face the driver with a light melodic laugh. “It sure is amazing what can do with weather control.”

Naomi stopped short of laughing at the sheepish look on her driver’s face. “How much farther do we have to go anyway?”

She could see a smirk playing across his lips in the mirror. “You’re starting to sound like a child, Lieutenant.”

Naomi twirled a lock of hair with a finger and put on her best spoiled brat-like pout. “Hey, I don’t get off very often. I think I deserve to have fun once in a while and with the way you’re driving I’m probably going to end up missing the party.”

“He he, I thought you Inquisitoriate types were supposed to have endless amount of patience.” The female soldier just scowled in return. “I’m off duty.”

“Relax” Naomi felt a slight lurch as the speeder pulled to a stop. “Here we are.”

She slowly stepped from the speeder to look at the extravagant estate in front of her. A low whistle escaped her lips. I knew these people were rich, but damn. Behind her the driver smirked. “Not quite what you were expecting?”

Naomi blinked out of her trance. “You sure this is the right place.” When Naomi had been given the invitation to the Russard’s party, a ‘reward’ of sorts for testing out the new synthetic body suit, she had been expecting a business party at a company firm.

“Have a good time Lieutenant.” The driver winked as he pulled away

The driver hadn’t been too late, people were still trickling in, each well-dressed in their best attire. Frak it, I’m here for a good time! Naomi scanned the stragglers for a familiar face as she strode up the steps to the front door.

Her face brightened at the sight of a brilliant white military dress uniform, or rather the person wearing the uniform. “Lee!”


Sergeant Lee Slater looked over in surprise at the woman rushing towards him. Silky hair the color of the darkest night fell lightly to her shoulders, a bright smile on her soft eggshell toned face. For a moment confusion filled his eyes until recognition kicked in, and when it did, Lee’s eyes widened in surprise. “Lieutenant Lang?”

Naomi stopped next to Lee and slugged him in the arm. “No décor, off duty remember. That’s Naomi to you.” Though in military garb, Lee was part of the Inquisitoriate as well and another one of the prototype testers to boot.

Lee still couldn’t stop himself from staring; this woman was one of the deadliest killers in the Inquisitoriate. Reality kicked a second too late, Naomi smirked at his shocked expression. She spun in a circle, showing off the shimmering dress she wore, shiny fibers woven into the garment caught light and reflected it in a purplish hue. “Like what you see?”

Lee smiled at his ranking officer. “You certainly are dressed to kill” Mock horror crossed Naomi’s face, as if she first noticed the stares coming at her from several of the male invitees. She frantically looked herself over. “Did I miss one of my blades? A blaster maybe?”

The sergeant couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m surprised you didn’t with that get-up you normally wear.” Lee still could barely get over the fact that the Lieutenant could seem so….normal, not after seeing what she could do in a battle.

“Well, we can’t stand out here all night, let’s get to the party.” A mischievous smile crossed Naomi face as she slipped her arm through his and dragged him towards the door. Lee, while all for spending time with the beautiful killer, thought to the Inquisitoriate’s strict rules, and the fact the woman next to him could easily end his life in the blink of an eye. “Lieu….”

Naomi clamped her free arm over his mouth. “No décor.” She leaned up to give him a light kiss on the cheek. Lee instantly went rigid at the feel of her lips. Naomi laughed at the nervous sergeant. “Lee, you really need to relax.” She tugged him even harder towards the door, smirking the whole way. “Live a little”

[Oriadin]

NEVER AGAIN!

Oriadin thought to himself as he ran for his life, dodging laser blasts coming this way and that. A small ledge presented itself a few meters above the tired man and he quickly focused and made a leap. He grabbed the ledge and pulled himself up and watched below as some Imperial assasins ran on by.

Oriadin fell back and sat on the ledge for a few moments to regain his composure. Too close that time. They seem faster, stronger... they are getting better he mulled, shaking his head. The once Jedi Knight looked down to check it was all clear and then jumped back down from the ledge. He looked over his shoulder and could not see the assasins. Must be pretty far away now. As he turned back round, an iron covered fist came hurtling towards him and met the side of his face with a rather large thud! He was sent flying towards the ally way wall which overshadowed them both. He had to move quickly, the assasin who had obviously hung back from the others would raise the alarm in a matter of seconds and it would be another chase, and Oriadin was not in the mood. As quickly as he was sent down,he got back up and lept for his attacker. They wrestled on the ground for a few seconds before Oriadin grabbed the assasin by his uniform and had him pinned against the wall. He gave out a penetrating stare.

The temptation was there to kill the man. One less of them to have to worry about afterall. But he was unarmed now. The wrestling had seen to that. Nothing would be gained from killing the assasin, except... revenge. Oriadin drew back his fist and struck the now wimpering man. He knocked him clean out. He'd wake in an hour or so, but he would be fine.

Oriadin stared up into the sky. The towering buildings of Couruscant loomed overhead. It was impossible to see anywhere near the top from the very bottom because of the smog. He thought about his time at the Jedi Order and how it had now come to hiding out in this foul place. The stench alone was enough to drive a man mad. It got to you, to the bone. He wondered what the sky would look like now, what he would give to see a sunset for a change.

Oriadin looked down at his beaten assasin.

"I can't do this anymore, people are going to have to learn to fend for themselves, I cant try to lay low forever more."

A sadness crept into his heart. He was a Jedi, a protector of peace, could he really turn his back on that, if he wanted to live, did he have much choice?

Oriadin walked off into the smog with a heavy heart. A cold breeze circled the mounds of rubbish that lay around the disgusting underworld of Coruscant.

"I have to get out of here."

[Estelle Russard]

Estelle had deposited her Grandfather in a highbacked, thickpadded chair and left him in the company of Yura Synovak, retired president of a plastics manufacturing chain. The two had come up through the ranks of free enterprise together, each making their own fortunes. For more than three decades they had routinely under-cut each other in some business intrigue or another and yet had managed to form a lasting bond of comraderie, if not true friendship. As Estelle slipped from their company to find herself a refill of sparkling wine, they had just embarked on an argument over who's fault it was they missed out on the hostile takeover of Global Mercantile fifteen years ago.

Happy to be free of nostalgic conversation that held no real interest for her, Estelle plucked a fluted glass from a circulating tray and sipped gratefully. Glad to be idle from polite conversation, at least for the moment, the youngest Russard relaxed and leisurely surveyed the guests.

It was a fine looking group. There were many dignified gentlemen and a few handsome military types, most of whom were accompanied by expensively dressed females. One couple in particular caught her eye - both were attractive and seemed to enjoy each other's company, but Estelle could not decide if they were lovers or just old friends. Their body language toward each other was a little ambiguous. The man appeared too reserved to be a lover, she decided.

With an embarressed gasp, Estelle was caught in her theorizing by the female of the pair. She quickly averted her gaze, but knew by the colour rushing to her face that there was no way to hide that she knew she had been caught.

Estelle tipped back more of the sparkling wine into her mouth for lack of a more intelligent thing to do.

[Naomi Lang]

“Well this is different.” Naomi still clung to Lee’s arm as she looked the place over. The regal air of the party and lavish décor did much to emphasize the Russard’s wealth. While Naomi took in the scene with a mixture of awe..and and a tinge of jealousy, soldier analytical part of her mind scoffed at this display.

Granduer and riches were the trademark of the Galactic Empire, on the outside anyway. Let these people have all the credits they wished, in the long run they were only content pawns to be used by the Empire. A hard smirk almost tugged at the corners of her mouth. Ignorance is bliss. Keeping the masses happy and rule with an iron fist is without a doubt the easiest way to maintain order

“What’s the matter, never been to a high class party.” Naomi turned to see Lee grinning over at her. She returned a sweet smile. “Of course I have.” Her voice sunk to a low whisper. “The difference is that I’m not here to kill anyone.”

Naomi scanned over the conversing couples and groups. “I kinda like the change.”
The stare of a young woman, younger than Naomi at least, caught her eye. She suppressed a giggle as the woman turned away with a start.

Lang nudged Lee playfully in the ribs, nodding in the Estelle’s direction. I think someone’s getting jealous of us. Sergeant Slater peered over to where Estelle was hurriedly taking a drink from a glass of wine... “That would be Estelle Russard, the daughter of Jason Russard the Younger.” Naomi cocked an intrigued eyebrow. “Well, since the esteemed Mr. Russard is busy at the moment....” indeed Jason Russard stood among a group of the business type people discussing the success of their design “…let’s introduce ourselves.”

Once again Lee found himself being drug along in Naomi’s wake. He shook his head, going along with the tug, the outgoing part of Lieutenant Naomi Lang was really starting scare him. “Why do I get the feeling you’re going to use me to get attention then gut me like a fish once this is done with?” Naomi smirked back at him. “Oh come on, Lee. That’s not my style.” Lee swallowed hard. Yeah, you’d probably rig my bed to blow the second I lay down.


The couple came up to the young Russard. Naomi glanced at the empty glass in the woman’s hand, a sly smile on her face. “You really shouldn’t drink that stuff so fast unless you want to wake up feeling like you ate raw bantha meat.”

Naomi extended a hand in greeting. “I’m Naomi Lang and this handsome man here is Lee Slater.”

[Estelle Russard]

"A pleasure to meet you. Both."

Her smile was genuine as she pressed each hand in turn. "My name is Estelle Russard"

She shifted her empty glass a little self-consciously from one hand to the other. "I find mingling at these parties can be thirsty work" she confided good naturedly.

The man looked splendid in his dress uniform -- Estelle had always admired the cut of a military man. But it was the woman beside him who held her attention the most. Naomi had an intensity about her that her light banter did nothing to dispel. Estelle wondered what the connection between the two was. And even further, their connection to this event.

"Are you associates of my father's?"

[Yun Tilgraze]

"Grandpa! You look very dashing. Even a little piratical with that bad-boy scowl"

If Yun got the joke, he didn't show it. He just sat there in silence, brow tightly knit, chiseled features illuminated only by the dim blue glow of the comm panels. More than a few of his peers in the Rebel Alliance joked that if Captain Tilgraze smiled, he'd need a face cast to repair the damage.

His dark eyes sifted through the data suspended in front of him. Frequency strength meters and biosign graphs danced on flat crystal displays, indicating a solid signal from their hidden receiver in one of Coruscant's commercial districts.

This was one of those times when the idea of good guys and bad guys landed in the gray. For the last several hours, Yun Tilgraze and Grace Van-Derveld were spying on a civilian, listening to personal conversations. Inane and irrelavent, but private nonetheless.

They had to, though, for their own protection. Letting her leave without supervision after the recruitment meet was a risk they could not take. Not now.

The subdermal microtransmitter that Grace planted was working perfectly. Optech had promised it would survive multiple showers, sonic or hydro, and they delivered. The only fear was an allergic reaction, but that would have shown up hours ago as little more than a short lived bug bite.

Estelle Russard's biosigns didn't indicate any problems, though. No problems at all, actually, which was troubling in a different way. Here was a girl who just this afternoon was forced to question everything she thought she knew about her life. And her heartrate was as steady as if she was at the spa.

Was she in denial, Yun wondered, or was compartmentalizing her emotions really that instinctual. He'd encountered cases of the former before. But if this case was the latter, she had potential.

"Now you promise to be good tonight, Grandpa. You know how proud Daddy is, despite you being so cranky about it all."

Yun's eyes tilted up and left, then toward Grace. "When I was assigned to the first Grand Moff over the Corellian region," he began flatly, "Senetor Bel Iblis had this aide. Tanner Doak. This was a guy who'd geared his entire political career around his boss. More than hero worship. He was a protoge of sorts."

He looked back toward the monitors, more past them then at them.

"Garm wasn't an idiot. He knew his office was becoming more and more irrelavent every term. Adding another layer to the beurocracy was stripping away even more of his purpose in life. He resisted.

"The transition was brutal. No one has any idea unless they were there. I remember some bonehead calling himself a biographer tried to recount the story for a holospecial, but none of it was true.

"The Empire systematically destroyed the senator. Everything he'd built. Threatened his family. Doak had front row seats through the whole ordeal. He watched his mentor publically humiliated, his accomplishments more than erased. It's like they never happened.

"After Bel Iblis left, senator Veers stepped in. And Tanner Doak continued to come into the office as if nothing had changed. He'd be at this syccophantic puppet's beck and call."

Tilgraze's eyes dipped. He shook his head. "It went on like that till Veers was appointed Moff."

Grace waited, then blinked in disbelief as Yun continued to look over the transmitter signals, noting that Estelle's temperature nudged up suddenly as she gasped for some reason. Then silence returned. It was awkward even through the speakers.

"So what happened?" Grace asked.

Yun regarded her casually. "Doak snapped. Tried to assassinate Veers in broad daylight in downtown Coronet. Stormtroopers gunned him down in front of the lunch hour rush."

He let out a measured sigh and adjusted the volume on the receiver. “I’m Naomi Lang and this handsome man here is Lee Slater.”

[Naomi Lang]

“The pleasure’s all ours Ms. Russard.”

Lee smiled, taking Estelle’s hand and kissing her hand in true gentlemanly fashion. He laughed inside at the dirty look Naomi threw at him. She had caught him off guard with her…normality; it was his turn at this game. Two Inquisitorial soldiers fighting over who could be more ‘normal’, who’d have thought that would happen

Naomi cut in a second before Lee could respond. “No, we’re the military’s test animals for that body-suit your father created. Excellent design, worked better we thought it would.”

In fact it worked so well that the Inquisitoriate had already implemented and modified its design, unknown to the military of course. They actually placed the suggestion to commission the project.

“Very comfortable, it feels like a second layer of skin. It’s definitely not what I expected.”

[Estelle Russard]

Lee pressed smiling lips to Estelle's hand which brought the expected subtle blush to her cheeks. Estelle found the gesture charming, until the troubling memory of Grace's story cast its quiet shadow across her mind. Had Grace's comrades been formed from a similar handsome and disarming mold?

Fortunately, Naomi drew her thoughts away from the unhappy speculation, and Estelle answered her with polite grace.

"I know my father was very pleased with the outcome of his design. The Imperial Military are tough company to impress"

She turned to Naomi as the thought struck her - "Am I right in understanding you, yourself, have had a chance to use the suit in trials?"

*****************************************


At about the same time Estelle posed her question to Naomi -- the mounds of rubbish which had swirled about Oriadin's feet in the streets of Lower Coruscant were tumbled up on the breeze and tossed against the curb of an east-end diner where James, Estelle's boyfriend, sat aruging with Randolf over the use of his speeder.

"You can be such a jerk, sometimes James" Randolf was his usual endearing self. "I wont need it for long. Its not like Im gonna smash it or anything"

James, ever the cooler head of the two, answered evenly, "Look - I said you can use it. I just want to know why"

Randolf pressed his lips together in annoyance. James was a good guy, but he wanted to know everything about everything.

"I just need it for a couple hours. Two, tops, if that long at all."

"You got something going on, dont ya" James knew Randolf too well. They had spent nearly every day of the past two years together studying at the Tarkin Institute, with the exception of spring and summer breaks. Randolf, for all his arogance and pointed edges was the one person James knew better than anyone. He was not the kind of guy to keep secrets from James, but to see the way he was clamming up right now, could only mean something big was up. Something important.

The pair both had strong sympathetic leanings toward the Rebel cause. James had met earlier with an Intel recruiter, Grace, and was serious about joining up. Randolf, however, had been testing the waters long before James had, and for some time now, James had known it to be more than just developing interest. Randolf was actually "active". James was certain of it. It was why he was not letting go of the argument -- there was more to tonight than just borrowing a speeder.

"Geez, you're like a dog with a bone, James." Randolf ran a hand over his face and up through his hair.

James gave the "c'mon, spill it" motion with his hand before lifting his glass of beer to his lips.

Randolf looked around the room quickly, furtively, before answering. James resisted mimicking the movement - now, he felt, wasn't really the time for slapstick.

Randolf leaned forward hunkering his head down between his shoulders. James worked on keeping a straight face, and likewise leaned forward to catch Randy's quickly whispered, "I've got to do a drop"

James felt as if electricity ran up his spine. Suddenly all humor escaped him as he realised that this really was important.

"When" was all he could think of to say.

"In a few hours." Randolf replied as he leaned back. Randolf would not admit it, but he was nervous. He knew James would probably insist on coming with him and inwardly, it was what he had hoped.

James nodded. He would let Randolf use his speeder, but there was no way he wasn't coming along too. Again James recalled his meeting with Grace. And again the resolution to do something that mattered reasserted itself.

"The speeder's yours. But I'm drivin'" he said at last.

Randolf smiled. The argument was over. "Deal."
"We got time to eat" he added practically.


James picked up the paper clipping that passed as a menu and glanced over it blindly.

This was it. This would be the night he changed his destiny.

He thought of Estelle, and his hand dropped to finger the communicator in his jacket pocket. He vaguely wondered how her dads party was going.. He would call her after the drop. She would be expecting him to call sooner, but he didn't trust himself to talk to her without telling her what he was planning on doing. Even a rookie like himself knew that could be a security breach. Come to think of it, his own knowledge of the drop was a security breach -- he would have to point that out one day to Randolf. One day, but not today.

Too excited to read, James ordered the first thing on the page.

"Cucumber sandwich, please"



**************************************

[Oriadin]

The air was cool, dark and damp in Couruscants lower levels. The tall buildings reached so far into the skies at some places, that from the bottom, they looked like they'd never end. The place was filthy, a musky air lingered and never seemed to lift. Oriadin was all too familiar with the down and outs that could be found down here. Homeless people as well as criminals. Drug dealers hung on the corners awaiting their next victim. It was a stark contrast from the wealthy that resided above.

Oriadin made his way up some of the levels, keeping his eyes fixated on the ground in front. He ignored the taunts from drug dealers and scraggy girls who asked if he was looking for a date while showing some dirt covered flesh. So much suffering and pain, he thought to himself. The neon sign of 'The Skull and Crossbones' bar caught his eye.

The place was packed with rather unsavoury looking characters. Aliens from all over accumulated here. 'The Skull', as the regulars got to call it had built up somewhat of a reputation for trouble. That was the very reason Oriadin found himself here most nights. This was where he'd keep his eye out for the real trouble makers.

Tonight was different though. Tonight he was ready to turn his back on the Jedi ways and try to make something of his life. He couldn't stand the filth of the lower levels of Couscant any longer. Instead of making his way inside, he simply walked on by. As he did so, he took a glance towards the solid wooden door, as if to say goodbye.

He walked past an alley way. A girl was screaming for help, and their were voices of two men trying to shut her up. The sound of clothes tearing mirrored the feeling of Oriadins heart as he simply stood, and did nothing. His face was expressionless but a single tear rolled down his cheek and fell to the ground.

After a short while, he continued on.

[Grace Van-Derveld]

“Very comfortable, it feels like a second layer of skin. It’s definitely not what I expected.”

Grace leaned forward upon the console when Naomi mentioned being test subjects. "Imperial soldiers." Yun nodded at her announcement. A lucky break from all the personal conversations they had to sit through until now. Naomi and Lee were Estelle's first opportunity to give Grace away. If things did go sour, immediate transport off the planet was already set in place.

Yun was also taking a chance with Grace going on tonight's Op. Her persistence paid off. She hadn't boasted about her skills out of ego, it was out of pride and he was willing to chance it to make certain tonight was a success, as did she. The stakes would be higher but every time she went out to do a job, she always gambled with her life. If things turned dire, Grace was debating on turning herself in so Yun and the others could get away. A thought not shared, but it would be a big enough distraction so the mission could proceed.

"Am I right in understanding you, yourself, have had a chance to use the suit in trials?"

She hadn't known Estelle that long, but Grace recognized that tone. She was impressed with Naomi testing the bodysuit, just as she was impressed with Grace being part of the Rebellion. It wasn't a comforting thought, but Estelle wasn't easily moved, which is why Grace felt a moment's worry about how this conversation could go.

Yun looked towards Grace, noticing how intently she was listening to the exchange now, "Do you think there will be a problem?"

Grace finally blinked when she processed Yun's question, "Perhaps," She sighed, "I'm not sure. My gut tells me no, but.."

"Sirs?"

Yun and Grace turned around to the unfortunately young human Rebel. "Randolf checked in and got a speeder. Just, you won't believe who else he has coming in with him."

[Naomi Lang]

Naomi was about to stifle a laugh as Estelle blushed at Lee’s kiss. The sergeant was playing the part of the honorable Imperial officer, even if he was only a senior NCO. Naomi’s laugh quickly died as strange look passed across the young Russard’s eyes. It was brief only for an instant, barely long enough for Lang notice. What was that, fear, apprehension, something else? Why would a university student be afraid of the gesture?

Estelle’s question shook Naomi from her thoughts, leaving them hidden in the back of her mind. The way Estelle spoke hinted that she was surprised. “Yes, I supervised my Imperial Guard unit’s testing on Carida?” A lie of course, testing had taken place in the Inquisitorial Enviromental Simulators. Naomi’s brows furrowed. “Does that surprise you?”
************************************************** **********************

Far from the party, in the lower levels of the world-city, as two men argued over the use of a speeder, an unseen figure lingered in the dark. Crouched in the dark shadows in the recess of the blazing neon atop a dance club down the street, Bren’lar Scothis, sniper of Project Nightmare, watched through faintly glowing eyepieces. In his arms rested a C-14 Gauss Rifle fitted with a sniper module.

The HUD image in the faceplate focused in on Randolf’s face at a mere thought. A smile crossed his face. This is the guy Naomi’s been tracking? This is too easy. The bullets of the C-14 could easily punch through the glass if need be.

“Sergeant Scothis to Nest, I have target in my crosshairs. Sending visual feed now.” With a mental command through his neural implant, the image in his HUD broadcast to ‘Nest’ via the Inquisitoriate’s secure frequency.

The Nightmare agent shifted the aiming reticule over James’s face. “Target is accompanied by an unknown person.”

“Copy that Sergeant, can you get us an audio feed.” Leaving one hand on the gun, Bren’lar pulled out a tiny long-range receiver from his pack. Instantly a plethora of sound streamed over his headset. Scothis winced at the noise and hurriedly focused the device on the two. Through the glass came a distorted mechanical sounding conversation.

“Snnkt ‘re…ike a…Zztt……bone….” The sergeant tweaked the device a bit more until finally a clear sound came across. “….do a drop. When? In a few hours.”

Bren’lar couldn’t stop himself from grinning. gotcha “Nest, do I take both of them out?” Silence. “Negative, sergeant. We need to find out more. Tail them, if we’re lucky we can get the whole group in one hit.”

At the diner, the two rebels reverted to commonplace banter. “Acknowledged.” Bren’lar severed the link and lowered the rifle. He watched the two conversing patrons. This is going to be a long night.

[Estelle Russard]

“Does that surprise you?”


"Yes" Estelle answered honestly, "A little. Women aren't often seen in a supervisory role in the military are they? Unless they are exceptional officers." She paused only slightly before adding with something more than mere curiosity, "Are you an exceptional officer Ms. Lang?"

The women turned together, walking to the french doors which led to a fresco'ed patio, in order to continue their conversation away from cigar smoke and the generic chamber music, which, intended to blend into the general hubub of the evening, only served to grate on Estelle's ears.

"Its a little less stifling out here" she gestured as they passed through the latice-worked doors and waited for Naomi's response.

[Oriadin]

The darkness was silent, but Oriadins mind rushed with thoughts of dread, sorrow but most of all, regret. He stopped walking. Took a few deep breaths and continued on. He stopped again, this time turning to face the direction he had just come from. The whole world seemed to fade into nothingness and the once Jedi Knight focused.

It was still there... he wasn't too late! He could still feel the panic and fear through the force. It felt like a nail being dragged down a black board and had to be stopped. Oriadin gathered himself and ran back towards 'The Skull'. As he got to the ally way the screams had almost faded to whimpers.

There he found a woman beaten on the floor. Two drunks over her ready to land their next strikes. As the one pulled his fist back, Oriadin caught it, twisted it and sent the man crying in agony towards the ground. The second man pulled a knife and hurtled towards Oriadin. He side stepped and the drunk collided with the wall behind. This was followed up with a kick to the neck which left the drunken man choked. Oriadin helped the woman to her feet, reached into his pocket and gave her some ointment. He led her to the main street where she'd be safe, appologised and walked off.

She found it odd that he would apologise after saving her, not knowing he had originally intended to leave her to it.

"That one doesnt count", Oriadin thought. Anyone would have done that... well anyone not from the lower levels of coruscant.

[Yun Tilgraze]

"He WHAT?"

The junior rebel agent took a deep breath under the weight of Captain Tilgraze's glare. "Blueblood's speeder broke down, so he tried to borrow Scholar's," the agent explained, using the code names referring to Randolf and James respectively.

Even though they were just candidates, they found themselves part of the operation, and thus got codenames. But that by no means meant they were activated field assets. In fact, James had been under surveillance since the recruiting meet same as Estelle.

"He got it, but leaked the mission to Scholar in the process. They're both on their way to the drop point."

The original recruiter who reccomended all three, Allis, had a lot of explaining to do. This gaff meant a gross miscalculation of their basic aptitude. Had he known they weren't mentally equipped for covert work, he would have handled their involvement in the operation from a completely different angle.

Unless there was torture or truth serums or Sith involved, revealing information about a rebellion operation in the middle of Imperial Center bordered on idiocy, even for a civilian.

This was one of those times he hated being right. Yun was skeptical of Scholar's profile from the moment he'd seen the man in person. Grace, as well, commented that if either of these academic elites were recruited, they'd be informants or analysts at best. To them this was still a game. All pretense of grasping the reality of what it meant to conduct a rebellion against the Galactic Empire evaporated at the first chance to play cloak and vibroblade.

Right now, well over half of the entire Alliance fleet was massing in deep space outside the Sullust system. Five of their top field leaders were on a comlink silent rescue operation on Tatooine. The status of the second Death Star's construction was unconfirmed, as were new reports of fleet movements across the Empire.

With that many question marks on file, they had to come straight to the source for solid information. Being on Imperial Center would be considered risky enough. But to compound all the ways that this op promised disaster, the kind of data they needed was too secure to slice remotely without detection.

Only a military facility mainframe would have the level of access they needed. Or a company with high clearance military contracts. Russard's company was too small yet to have the right codes, but the big wigs of companies like his all ran in the same circles. And sent most of their kids to the same school.

So given the mix of earnestness and lack of time, the mission plan was drawn up. Agents were to obtain entry to SerroTech's central office and raid the mainframe. Risk of capture was too high for an assault or even forced entry, so they needed the keys.

Therein lied the blind gamble, putting untrained candidates into play. With that final ingredient of chaos, General Cracken hand picked the insertion team himself. Only Tilgraze, Van-Derveld, Raal, and Akoete had the best chance of coming home. Right now, though, any sense of pride for being on that list rang hollow.

"There's more," agent Raal continued. Yun's scowl tightened. "They've got a tail."

Yun took a deep breath, looking across the comm array beside him as he turned over scenerios in his mind.

"Are you an exceptional officer Ms. Lang?"

Promptly, he looked back at Raal. "Okay here's what we do."

[Naomi Lang]

Lee Slater watched the women disappeared to the patio. The moment Naomi was out of view a shiver passed through him. As interesting as playing that ‘game’ with Lang was, he was still afraid of her, he respected her as an officer and a fellow soldier of course, but anyone that was part of an Inquisitor’s entourage was to be feared.

“Are you an exceptional officer Ms. Lang?” Lee smirked at the last comment, few woman could honestly make the rank of commissioned officer, even in the less strict Imperial Guard, only in the Inquisitoriate could a female, and even aliens, succeed militarily. “Exceptionally psychotic maybe” Lee whispered as he turned away from the open doorway and back to the party.



Naomi followed Estelle through the exquisitely crafted doors; she took the time to run her hand over expensive frame before stepping out onto the quiet patio. All these indulgences, the house, crystal glass, expensive chinaware, and master-crafted artifacts showed an excessive wealth. I could probably afford have of this stuff by myself. The Inquisitoriate paid its assets very generously. She cast her eyes over the equally extravagant fresco. But why in the world would I want any of this.

Naomi leaned back against a marble pillar some distance from the doorway.

“Am I an exceptional officer?” She gave a small laugh, dropping back into her carefree of duty persona. “I’d like to think so, but most of the CO’s I’ve had seem to share a different opinion.”

[Estelle Russard]

"Some people can be obstinate in their predisposed ideas" Estelle offered. "I should imagine there would be no shortage of good ol' boys among the officer clubs in the military who felt women should know their place. Goodness knows, there's plenty of them in the business core."

Comparing the Military to the General mercantile populace was like comparing chalk with cheese. There is no comparison. But it was the only point of reference Estelle could draw from.

"I'm curious, Ms. Lang -- why did you join the military,what drew you to it? It is not an easy life for anyone, but I'm sure its safe to say it is even more difficult for a woman. Quite aside from the challenge of reaching one's potential among such a male dominated arena -- the life itself must be a hardship. It takes a very dedicated person to enjoy such a life. I wonder what it is that drives you?"

[Naomi Lang]

“Whoa, slow down a bit.” Naomi held both arms up with a laugh, as if fending off an invisible mob. She wasn’t surprised by the sudden spark of curiosity from the college student, people were always interested in the military types, but a woman in uniform drew quite a few more story seekers. And Naomi, though she wouldn’t admit it aloud, did crave the attention, almost to the point of a spoiled child, the atmosphere at the Inquisitoriate building was always so boring and no one was interested in listening.

The Lieutenant shifted to a more comfortable position alone the marble colonnade. A few of the aspiring girls Naomi had spoken to in the past shared much of the same enthusiasm as Estelle, they needed a role model and Naomi was happy to oblige. They’d probably turn tail and run if they found out about the Inquisition

“In all honesty, I never chose to join the army.” Naomi paused, waiting for the confusion that usually showed. She smirked, her story wasn’t the strangest of the Nightmare agents, but it was definitely unique.

“I was forced into it as punishment for certain…incidents…while I was at the University.” Lang sunk into the memories, thinking of the fun her earlier years had been. “I had a bit of a reputation for being a bit of a trouble maker, never had much respect for authority, either…” a roguish grin spread across her face. “..still don’t. I also liked playing practical jokes. Chemistry was the only subject I actually like, and as a result most of my pranks were a bit…noisy.”

Naomi unconsciously looked in the direction of the Campus. “Administration couldn’t figure out how to, how did they say it, tame me. So after a little joke that got a bit out of hand sort lit fire to a good portion of the science wing, they sent me off to do mandatory service.”

Naomi giggle at that particular memory, the last time she had checked, the Professors were still afraid that someone would light the place up, even if only by accident. They probably used it as an example to teach students that certain chemicals should not by mixed. She cocked an eyebrow at Estelle’s rather shocked expression.

“Not what you expected?”

[Estelle Russard]

Defintely not what Estelle had expected.

Naomi had read her easily and correctly.

Estelle was, for the most part, a serious type of person. Sensitive. Even as a child, her games of tea parties and dress-up were always conducted with a certain level of gravity to them. They were orderly affairs and imitated life with all its etiquettes and proprieties as closely as possible. Everything was done with a sense of responsibility to it. This sense of responsibility carried over, and compounded itself, into adult life.

Her own thoughts and questions of political leanings evolved from the self-same mindset. They were a conscious act of ones inner convictions. The suggestion of just inadvertantly stumbling into them, and living a life devoted to them as Naomi appeared to have done, was a completely foreign concept to her.

She faltered, not quite sure how she should answer.

"Er, well..yes, a little unexpected. I mean, you never resented being 'punished' in such a fashion?"

[Naomi Lang]

“Resented it? Hell, I was furious. Drug off Coruscant and forced into the barracks on Carida.” Home of the Imperial Military Academy, Carida trained the bulk of the Empire’s foot soldiers since the end of the Clone Wars. “Almost double normal gravity, instructors and students treating you like scum, being worked harder than the other recruits and conscripts, even harder than the other women there.”

Naomi thought back to the days she lay in her bunk on the verge of tears from the impossible assignments from instructors trying their best to break her, the other willing enlistees laughing behind her back. She never did cry though, not once, she wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.

“I made gave them hell back, tried to get kicked out, only made the instructors try harder.”

[Estelle Russard]

"Yet here you are - still serving in the military" she observed, "and if I may say so, it appears with quite some success. I take it you grew to like your life of punishment inspite of things..." Estelle's eye caught the tall frame of Lee moving through the room inside, mingling easily. "And met some interesting friends as well" she added with a smile. As she watched Lee, her thoughts skipped automatically to James and a shadow passed in her mind. He should have called her by now, just to say hi - to see how the party was going. She glanced at the ornate chrono which dominated an adjacent wall inside the reception room. Past time. Maybe he was really making way in his studies..The possibility did not sit sound to her for some reason. Estelle took a small savoury from the tray as a tuxedoed server passed by, who paused, also offering to Naomi.

With a niggling sense of uneasiness, Estelle turned her thoughts back to the company of the intruiging Imperial officer.

Estelle was very interested in what Lang had to say. She was in many ways, it seemed, similar to Grace. Both were strong, intelligent women who appeared to know exactly what they were about and where they were headed. The contrast was that they were on such directly opposing sides. It was hard to believe that such a woman as Naomi could be the 'face' of the sinister Imperials. The youngest Russard was struggling to divide her "grey" opinions regarding the Imperials into black and white, and Naomi was not making the distinction any easier. Estelle found herself liking the woman.

Estelle kept pressing the issue in the hopes of getting Naomi
to validate some of the things Grace, and James and even the obnoxious Randolf had been saying.

"Has it all been worth the hardships, Naomi, would you say?"


*********************************************


James eased the speeder into a gap in the Imperial Center traffic flow. Accellerating slightly, he maneuvered easily into the slipstream. Randolf was rechecking the co-ordinates of the meeting with one hand while slipping the other in and out of his jeans pocket to reassure himself he had the keycard. Inspite of his bravado, he was nervous, which made his behaviour border on obssessive compulsive. Another check of the co-ordinates. Another check for the key..

"Make a left at the Calypso billboard"

James did as instructed. Both boys ignored the 13ft holovid picture of a bikinied twi'lek reclining languidly on a beach chair, inviting all to join her on the pristine white sands of Calypso Bay.

And neither noticed the speeder that turned left at the billboard after them.

[Grace Van-Derveld]

James powered down the speeder behind the old Rodian restaurant as Randolf had ordered. They were early, apparently, since there was no one here to greet them right away. Yet by Randolf's wrist chronometer, they were actually on time.

A few moments passed by and nothing happened. This caused Randolf to scratch his head in confusion since this wasn't like the Rebels. The information he was carrying was too important. Why were they not here already?

James sensed his friend’s uneasiness, "Something wrong?"

"Eh?" He was too busy searching the area for any sign of his contact. Only thing alive in the alley were the rats fighting over the left over treats inside the dumpster.

"Randolf?"

"Yeah, yeah. I know." He turned around and lifted his hands up in the air, clueless. "Just, they don't keep me waiting. Y'know?"

Then Randolf's comm went off as if on cue and an alarmed look passed between the two of them.

As soon as he hit the comm, the woman on the other end didn't give him a chance to speak. You've compromised everything and if you want to get through the next few minutes of your lives intact, you will follow everything I have to say.

James recognized the voice right away. It was Grace's.

Randolf was floored. He didn't mean any harm with having James come along. What was he suppose to do anyway? He needed a speeder and supposedly James was in good with the Rebels now after their meeting with a recruiter. How was that being compromised unless, he was followed? But that made no sense, he would have known if he was followed.

"Yeah, but.."

No excuses just listen. You're to spilt up. James is now the postman and is to take the speeder three levels down. Instructions to follow. Do you have a comm James? Yes or no.

"Yes." James knew better then to ask questions or elaborate further.

Switch your comms. Randolf. Proceed to the safe house on foot. Now MOVE

50 meters away

Grace clicked off her comm and looked over at Yun, who silently nodded in approval. Both were safely behind a service truck, with two other handpicked operatives, and watched the rookies do the exchange. Everyone was armed to the teeth and geared up in a lightweight, form fitting body armor.

They could no longer rely on the two potentials to complete the mission and were ordered to escort James in secret. Once he delivered the goods, he was going to be captured for debriefing. The Alliance needed to know how extensive a risk he was and if things panned out, James, at the very least, would now be a full-fledged member of the Rebel Alliance.

Randolf, on the other hand, was on his own. He knew the risks of leaking information and when he reached the safe house, there was going to be hell to pay.

She turned towards the two Rebels and flagged them into position. They hopped into a two-seater and waited for the signal, which would be James turning over his speeder.

[Naomi Lang]

Naomi plucked a small morsel from the offered tray and rather unceremoniously popped it into her mouth. She almost laughed at the disgusted look thrown at her by the server. Talking about the past was always strange for Naomi, having to modify bits and pieces so as not to give her Inquisitorial status away.

Estelle was giving her a difficult time, most often; other people would just let her talk with a comment here or there. Russard’s questions and speculation gave way to a dangerous situation Then again Naomi carefully studied Estelle’s face as she traced Lee’s path through the room. The younger woman’s inquiries seemed too well placed and too purposeful just to be random musings; and she paid specific attention to certain details more than others, especially at the mention of the military system, as if she was trying to confirm ...what are you looking for, Estelle?

“Don’t think that I ever got to like living like that. It’s just after a field evaluation that sort of went up in flames…..I started to see things from a different point of view.”

Naomi quietly trailed off.

“The instructors summoned my entire company, some hundred recruits or so. They thought that in general the group had preformed well enough to move to the next stage, actual field exercise. No simulators, no set guidelines, or procedures, and no direct involvement by the trainers. All of us were pretty darn surprised when we were shuttled off planet and hooked up with a Strike Cruiser.

She had always grudgingly moped and heckled the instructors whenever she had gotten a training assignment, but that time she went along without a fuss, much to her trainer’s surprise, if only to get off Carida for a few days.

“We jumped to a remote system where another company of recruits had already landed. It was supposed to be a kind of capture-the-flag game. My company was designated as the attackers; we were to take several dropships to the surface where the defenders held an abandon installation. Our job was to bust into the place and pick up the flag from the facilities center and make it back to the landing zone.”

Naomi closed her eyes, recalling the bumpy ride down to the surface in the Sentinel-Assault Shuttles, sitting nervously almost expecting explosions flak cannons to fill the air, trekking miserably through thick foliage while warding off clouds of biting insects.

“Everything was going as our company leaders had planned out; the squad I was part of was to move in from the rear of the facility while the other squads distracted the defenders from the other side.”

Naomi sighed, remembering the time before everything went to hell, sitting in the bushes, waiting for the signal to rush in.

“Problem was, nobody knew that pirates had been using the place as a home base. The defending team had already been completely slaughtered and they were setting up to finish us off.”

“The second my squad made a break for it, an E-web emplacement opened up, three of my squadmates were burned to pieces in front of my eyes, the squad leader included. The rest of us barely made it back to cover. Laser blasts constantly flew by us and we could hear gunfire and explosions from the other side of the building.”

“I don’t quite know how, but I sort of took charge, it just felt so natural. I didn’t even think about how much I hated the army and resented my squadmates; we were in it for survival. I had the squad regroup, and we fought our way towards the bulk of the company.”

It had been the first time that any of the recruits had actually killed, but despite the chaos and fear, Naomi led her squad back to the others.

“About half the company was dead before stormtroopers from the cruiser in orbit could get to us. Back in space, I looked back and realized I had been the only one remotely prepared for the actual combat, all thanks to the grief I’d been put through”

************************************************** ****

Sgt. Major Scothis kneeled in the darkness atop a building overlooking the alley, his speeder parked several meters back. The muzzle of his gauss rifle trained on the two rebels.

Through his HUD, Bren’lar carefully studied the younger. “Nest, do you have an I.D. on the kid yet?”

“Negative, sergeant, we’re still working on it.”

Below, Randolf, the confirmed rebel operative, nervously looked about. Behind glowing optical-pieces, Bren’lar’s eyes narrowed. Everything was starting to look suspicious, the way Randolf paced, nervously looking for something, or someone he couldn’t find, the way the young associate with him slowly grew more agitated, and especially the way both of them jumped when Randolf’s comm. went off.

“Frell.” The only thing that could make them that skittish was that something was wrong. And if things were going wrong for the rebels, things were going wrong for him. With a thought, the sniper opened a direct neural link to waiting troopers

“Socthis to strike team, mobilize immediately.”

“Acknowledged, sergeant. ETA to your position is three minutes.” Bren’lar grimaced, three minutes before a gunship full of Inquisitorial soldiers showed, much too long.

“Nest, the contacts aren’t here, they must have had eyes somewhere. I’m engaging.”

“Try to take them both alive if you can, but the original target is still priority.” came the frantic reply.

Scothis clicked the safety off, and sighted in on Randolf, who already was inching towards an escape route. The sergeant grinned in his mask. “You picked the wrong guy to mess with.”

He pulled the trigger. A high-pitched scream tore through the night as the bullet flew through the air. The magnetic accelerators special sniper module on the C-14 propelled the projectile to hypersonic speeds, nearly as fast as a railgun. For an instant, a streak of flame from the friction highlighted the bullets path before Randolf’s lower right-leg exploded in a spray of blood and bone fragments.

[Yun Tilgraze]

"Grife!"
"Sniper."
"Talk to me, Skiptracer!"

Three of the four rebels across the duracrete parkway ducked for cover, all except for Agent Akoekte, who held his position, scanning intently through his own sniper rifle.

He was the one who first figured out that the mission was compromised, not from Randolf's leak, but from the scrambled comm traffic he picked up immediately following the exchange at the diner. He couldn't slice the signal, but the Imp code header was enough to confirm they were under surveilance.

He'd been given the callsign Skiptracer because he was a former bounty hunter, hands down the best countertracker in the Alliance, but even he couldn't get a visual on the spy that he knew was out there. Not until a split second plasma discharge from a gauss rifle lit up his scope.

"Got him."

Captain Tilgraze whirled back around with a monucular RF scope raised against his right eye. "C'mon," he muttered angrily at the scene before him.

James was in an awkward half crouch, torn between looking for cover and his instinct to help his friend. Randolf was on the ground, clutching the remnants of his knee and screaming in unbridled agony.

"Run, God damn you," Yun bit out. James continued to look at Randolf helplessly, struggling with the decision of which way to move. The moral dilemma was about to go into its third second, more than enough time for the Imperial assassin to take another shot.

So Yun made the decision for him.

"Light him up!" Scores of crimnson daggers suddenly pierced the night sky in a tight cone, screaming death at the sniper's position. James' survival instincts kicked in, pushing him toward his speeder at a breakneck stride.

Akoete had zoomed in on the sniper the instant he spotted the heat flare from the muzzle flash. He'd have preferred using the frequency muffler mounted on the stock -- a highly illegal stealth modifaction for firing invisible sniper bolts -- but with the power drain it was only good for one shot at a time.

Rather than waste another critical second they couldn't afford on getting a tight shot, he just cranked the power output to full repeating mode and let loose. If backup wasn't already on the way, it was now.

"I'll cover Scholar," Raal said, already moving into action.

Yun grabbed him by the arm. "No," he barked. "The Imp took out Blueblood after they made the exchange. That means he doesn't know the score yet."

Tilgraze's mind raced. As long as they though Randolf was their primary asset, he made an ideal decoy, but only if they kept him alive long enough for James to get away on his own.

"Van-Derveld, you and Raal flush out that sniper. I'll get Blueblood! Akoete, pick up on Scholar's com signal the second I'm clear. Shadow him and meet us at drop point 2."

Agent Akoete just darted a glance his way in acknowledgement, keeping a keen eye on the scope for the sniper, or more targets. Randolf had yet to move from where he had fallen, but he was definitely alive.

Raal started to turn again, ready to move. "May the Force be with you," he added quickly.

"Frell the Force," Yun snapped back. He planted a hand on the ledge they had been using for cover and prepared to jump over. "Unless you have a lightsaber in that pack," he added dryly. "We need a miracle."

Akoete's rifle erupted, laying down suppression fire as Tilgraze hurdled the ledge onto the duracrete below.

[Oriadin]

Oriadin stopped dead in his track...

...he was sure he heard a shot fired. He closed his eyes and began to listen. There was a hell of a lot of screaming coming from the level above. He was about to make a mad dash to see if he could help, but hesitated. He needed to get out of the lower levels before it drove him to madness, and helping people had gotten him nowhere.

Then he thought about the girl, and how he delayed on helping her. "Damn it! One more and THATS it". He ran like hell to get to where the screams were coming from.

He got to the level above and a young looking man caught his gaze. He looked to be in extream pain, probably his leg. He quickly surveyed the area for danger. Something didnt feel right here, but Oriadins senses wasn't what it once was. He couldnt put his finger on it, but something troubled him. He spotted another man running away from the injured man, he looked to be heading for a speeder. Instantly Oriadin thought perhaps this was a mugging of some sort, but that didnt sit right with him. He went to run to help but after taking one step a gunship full of Inquisitorial soldiers flew overhead and made a quick pass. What the hell was going on here, certainly not the run of the mill days Oriadin was used to on Couruscant.

[Estelle Russard]

Randolf clutched his leg in agony as he rolled helpless as a child on the ground and strangled the screams of outrage through clenched teeth. His first thought was that he had been set on fire, but the lack of his hands blistering as he gripped his shattered limb finally broke through the pain barrier and into rational thought, proving that first impression a lie. They'd shot him instead.

He was shocked that they would react so drastically. Sure, he'd screwed up, but shoot him? Bloody hell. He was on their side!

His wild eyes caught James crouching in the shadows, stark fear and desperation stamped on his features and Randolf couldn't understand why his friend wouldn't come and help him get up. And now he's run off? With out James, how would he make it to the safe house?

All these thoughts richocheted through Randolf's head in a matter of seconds, but the rush of adrenalin and the shock of physical injury, coupled with mind-numbing pain, had a way of slowing down every image to seem a lifetime. It was only the eruption of rapid gunfire that reasserted coherent thought into his head and Randolf realised he was in very grave danger. James was not running from a wounded friend. James was running from an attacking enemy. As the sound of rushing footfalls on the pavement came incongruously towards him, Randolf forced himself into a beleagured crawl, trying to drag himself along the pavement toward cover. Each move sent searing pain akin to a hot poker up through his leg..

James had the benefit of full faculties unclouded by injury as events unfolded chaotically around him. Every nerve-ending was firing in his body as he debated within himself the dilema of rushing into the open to aid Randolf. The night was suddenly a crisper, starker version of its former self. James heard every sound, saw every detail in a flood of flight-heightened sensitivity. And he was clearly becoming overwhelmed. His breath came out in ragged bursts. So loud, he thought. He was breathing too loud, they'd hear him. Shoot him. God, what was he doing here? What was going to happen to Randolf. James - or codename Sholar - was as close to panic as a new recruit had ever been. He was like a spooked rabbit. Scared. Sick.

James wiped his brow with the back of his forearm and tried to calm his breath. Randolf had been shot, and he was not helping him. James fought the urge to throwup and wiped his arm across his forehead again.

Frell...They shot him..

He crouched beside the speeder, pressing himself back against it and stretched his neck in every direction physically possible, trying to locate the sniper. A series of red dots highlighted on one position - sniper found. And James realised, with a spark of hope, that he and Randolf were not on their own.

James was trying to bring himself under control. And perhaps would have succeeded eventually, had a hail of gunfire not erupted from the darkness. Spurred beyond all limits of prudence, James instinctively knew now was his time to move. Leaping from his cover, he landed into the speeder seat, banging his shins roughly against the dash. Bent low in hopes of avoiding a new hole in his head, James sparked the ignition and similtaneously accellerated so that in a split second the speeder vanished in an ungraceful lurch of power into the night.

[Naomi Lang]

Sergeant-Major Scothis watched the rebel hit the ground hard, incapacitated, irrelevant. The Nightmare cocked the feeder slide, loading another bullet from the gauss rifle’s magazine into the sniper chamber. He swung the large weapon to bear on the second rebel. Scothis’s slowly began to tighten his finger over the trigger when his eyepiece caught the tell-tale flash of a blaster discharge.

For the Inquisitorial assassin, time instantly slowed to a crawl. An otherworldly sensation flooded across his mind, as if he suddenly wasn’t consciously controlling his body. Bren’lar could almost ‘see’ the bio-electric signals racing from his brain to his muscles. While a normal human, save for adepts, couldn’t have possibly reacted in time. But somewhere along the synapses, the neural implant at the base of Scothis’s brain picked up the signals and transferred the information to the Power Suit’s servos.

The Sergeant’s body spun to the right with bio-mechanically enhanced speed, but from his point of view, everything moved as if in a viscous liquid. Crimson bolts raced flew towards him in slow-motion, but Scothis’s own slow moving form still traveled faster.

Time resumed its normal speed. Bren’lar hit the duracrete roof with a resounding thud; a hail of blaster bolts formed a maelstrom of lethal energy where he had been standing an instant before.

“Frell”

Bren’lar shook his head in an attempt to clear the hazy after-image from his head. It always took some concentration to compensate for the armor’s added strength and speed, something that was now almost more of an instinct for the nightmare agents, but it was absolutely impossible to try and cope with the enhanced velocity coupled with human reflexes.

As the cobwebs gave way to clear sight and sound once again, and low drone pulsing in his headset and a flashing yellow warning light greeted Schothis.

{Notice, superficial damage--Energy dispersal coating compromised.(Plate #13a}

A dull white highlight creased a section of his left shoulder pauldron where the energy reflective ‘paint’ had been burned clean, marking the spot where the kiss of a blaster bolt had hit him.

Training took over and the Nightmare agent rolled gracefully into to his feet, Gunmetal armor melting into the darkness as he stepped back. Once again Schothis was a wraith ready to hunt his prey.

Unconcerned that the tables had turned; the sniper ran towards the rooftop ledge facing one of the many gothic skyscrapers that disappeared into the sky all the while keeping a disgusted eye on the far rooftop. The rebel had had a clear shot, probably could have done some serious damage to him, but instead chose to completely unload the weapon’s power pack. Whoever that rebel was, he had sacrificed a perfect shot in order to save a companion.

Scothis snorted. Sentiment was a pointless distraction.

“Frakking idiot, who the hell taught you how to shoot? You don’t open up full auto with a sniper rifle.”

Scothis planted a foot on the edge of the roof and pushed off with augmented strength. His hand caught onto a transfer pipe, one of many running the length of the entire tower. They were used to carry all sorts ‘conveniences’ up and down kilometer high spires, be it water, electricity, holonet connections, even clean air. In the alley, the stream of fire ceased.

“Sniper rifle, get it? Not repeating blaster. Learn how to frakking finesse a shot.”

Scothis was what one could call an ‘urban sniper’, much more difficult than a ‘field sniper’ position in the army. It was like playing cat and mouse with two cats, both the hunter and the target could take advantage of the cityscape. He himself had come up with three basic rules. Number one: Stick to shadows as much as possible, they offered more protection than any sort of hard cover. Rule two: Only shoot if you’re one hundred percent positive you’ll hit the target. Rule three: The second you take a shot, abandon your position and find a new one.

Keeping a vice like grip on the transfer pipe, Bren’lar planted an armored boot on the wall and pushed away from the wall. Above him, an interconnecting walkway between one building and another blocked the light from revealing his position. Scothis hefted the rifle in one arm, bracing the stock in the crook of his arm. Glowing eyes scanned for the rebel’s position.

“Now, show me where you are.”

Split seconds later, suppression fire spattered out again, suppression fire aimed in the wrong direction. A figure hurdled over the lip of the far roof, a speeder carrying the initiate careened towards safety. Scothis ignored them both, the current threat came from that sniper, (the Nightmare smiled) no matter how inept the rebel was.

Inside on mask, red crosshairs converged on Akoete’s forehead and an instant later, a brief plasma highlight marked the path of Bren’lar’s second bullet. He didn’t even check to see the kill, it had been a dead on shot, instead he released his grip on the pipe and plummeted to the ground. The others rebels were nothing, he needed to get the courier.

[Grace Van-Derveld]

Raal and Van-Derveld hit the wall on either side of the back doorway. This was the only safe entrance into the building that the Sniper had set up his position, since the emergency exit was in to plain of sight. The Rebels were few on this mission and foolishly risking their lives by exposing themselves wouldn't do anyone any good. Plus, the Imperials needed to think there were more of them and incase that Sniper tried to escape that way, Tilgraze had that point covered.

Grace pointed two fingers at the door and Raal nodded, blowing the lock off of it. She entered first and noticed that everything was written in Gran. Having this be an alien establishment might make this easier if they happened across the owners or shop workers. A cursory look didn't glean any insight to what was here. The closest rooms were designated in their native language that said 'Storage' and 'Staff Only'.

She pointed her rifle at the third that would give them access to the roof. They climbed the stairs in train precision, holding at each turn incase their Sniper decided to make a run for it.

Eventually they made it to the top. Raal was set and Grace keyed the panel to open the door and quickly they ran through to find the roof empty.

"What the devil?" There were no hiding places for the Sniper to get the drop on them, so they spread out in confusion and worry, keeping low to the ground incase this was a trap while Grace pulled out her comm, "Scout Master this is Girl Scout. We have a serious problem. Sniper is gone. I repeat gone. Can't get a visual on him."