Ever seen a Nightmare? (Jens, Estelle, PN)

[Karl Valten]

We shall see that at which dogs howl in the dark, and that at which cats prick up their ears after midnight.
- H.P. Lovecraft "From Beyond"



Not many places remind people of the past anymore, the Empire under Palpatine had stamped out as much of the history from before as it could. And that which it couldn’t stamp out, it demonized. Jedi, once the most iconic figures in existence and heroes the billions became the agents of disorder and terror, wielding blasphemous magics to prey on innocents. The Old Republic stripped down to a failed, idealized civilization wrought with corruption and chaos; only the guiding light of the Empire could unite the galaxy and bring order to chaos.

A few vestiges of the old days remained to be sure, but most scattered far from the iron grip of the core worlds. But several also lingered close to the populated center of the Galaxy. Tallaan, an aged system at the hub of the Shapani Bypass and Giju Run, was one such system to keep its history. Her shipyards dated back over four thousand year, all the way to Great Sith War when she had supplied warships to the Republic’s cause.

With the emergence of Kuati and Sienar Shipyards, Tallaan had been regulated to a minor depot and with the take over of the Empire, many aliens had been brought in to perform the labor. Still, a heavy amount of commercial traffic traversed the trade hub, and even a small number a Star Destroyers left the yards. The system stayed important enough that Imperial garrisons were kept planetside to deter the rebel-sympathetic aliens. Unknown to most of the populous, an Inquisitorial outpost also called Tallaan home, should any form of political heresy endanger the loyalty of the system.

As the sun fell and dusk gently settled over the bustling capitol city and the more respectable citizens began retiring to their homes, the others would come. The dregs of society, drug dealers, gangs, disaffected teenagers, and criminals alike lurk in the darkened streets and secret gatherings while stormtroopers prowled the main roads. Shadows and darkness provide an ethereal protection that daylight can’t offer.

The planetside shipping yards are counted as one of the most ‘dangerous’ areas of the city after dusk. Local law enforcement agencies keep their distance at night and the stormtroopers patrol only the sections invaluable to the Empire. Many of the blackmarket dealings were even allowed to happen in order to keep traffic flowing, or to keep access to a source of intelligence no Imperial ministry could hope to provide. Thousands of docking stations, warehouses, and narrow alleys form a labyrinth filled kilometers with shadows for any and all to take advantage of.


But where ever there is prey, there are predators as well…..

[Estelle Russard]

The fading rays of sunlight shed their golden hues, draping themselves momentarily in the deeper pinks and reds of a Tallaan sunset. The day breathed its last, taking a deep inhale before the sky darkened and the first of many stars blinked into existance, heralding the soft evening.

Sitting at a table in an outdoor cafe on the other side of town, far from the industrial area of the Tallaan shipyards, Estelle quietly enjoyed a short, but powerfully strong, caffe esspresso. Even here in a more respectable area of the City, the general populace appeared to be thinning with the approaching night. Not quite so many now in the cafe, not quite so many walking passed her on the sidewalk.

Jens should be here soon. She watched the approach to the cafe carefully, not only for the apprearance of the young rebel scout, but also for anything untoward. The outdoor heaters came on, the tell-tale click-click-click as the metal began heating gave them away.

She sipped at her coffee and counted fourteen stars already overhead.

[Jens Vec]

God I love this place. Put on some crappy clothes, get a little grungy, and nobody gives you a second look. I can zoom around on my old busted plank and nobody cares. I ramped off the back of an old truck, did a full Misty, and landed it solid with no consequences from the authorities. I need to live here. I roll into a place with a public bathroom to wash my face and hands a bit before I meet up with my latest friend. Once I'm as presentable as I'll get, I walk the rest of the way to the cafe with the plank under my arm. No need for flashy entrances.

[Estelle Russard]

She saw him before he saw her and she assessed him as he ambled his way along the street toward her, board under his arm.

Jens was a natural, and fit in to these surroundings without effort. He appeared at ease with the rough, tumble life of the dark side of the city, and indeed, he was so.

At last, she saw him catch sight of her. Just a flick of recognition touched his eyes and hint of a smile, then as quickly vanished. He would have to work on that. A reaction as innocuous as that could be a death sentence under different circumstances.

But not these ones, fortunately. They were going to meet openly and so knowing each other was in keeping with that fact. So--perhaps he didnt have to work on it afterall. Estelle chided herself for being too critical, too protective. Heck, she was new to the role of being responsible for a new recruit as Jens was at being a rookie. The learning curve was going to be tough on both of them.

She nodded for him to continue over and within moments, Jens Vec, rebel scout and teen airboarder extradinaire was seated across from her, tossing his hair out of his eyes.

A server brought an espresso over for him, and departed with efficiency that comes with being busy cleaning up in the back and getting ready for closing. A new customer was not exactly appreciated. This kind of cafe did not stay open too late. Estelle apologized to Jens with a look - she had no idea what he would like to drink and so just went with what she knew was good.

"Good to see you" she opened with a smile, then got straight to business.

"What do you have for me?"

[Jens Vec]

I plunk down in the chair across from her and try to get the hair out of my eyes as best I can. It just falls back down after a few moments, so I resolve to buy a headband and leave it there. The espresso isn't really my speed, but I'm thirsty, and could do with some caffiene or whatever is in this stuff that makes people hyper. I take a drink and smile back at her.

"Good to see you, too." I make sure to keep my voice low-ish. As much as a grungy teen fits in here, I can't imagine one would speak freely of his escapades in the shipyards. "Well, for starters, it is the most magnificent area for boarding I have ever visited in my life. Plenty of room for aerial tricks and even some sections for grinding. I got to see the whole place. Looks pretty standard. They're building some big cargo vessels...maybe some other, stronger stuff. Got some threatening looks from security when I was grinding the fence in some places." I pause for another drink of espresso, leaving room for Estelle to ask for whatever elaboration was needed.

[Estelle Russard]

His obvious love of airboarding was so endearing, Estelle felt a momentary pang for being a part of taking Jens from such a simple pleasure and placing him into a world that was so much darker and meaner than his innocent catching of thrills through speed, air and teenage adreniline.

She muscled such guilt aside. The galaxy was what it was and they were there to make it change.

The information Jens delivered was a little disappointing. They could get the same intel from longrange camera's and some educated guessing.

She pressed him for more.

"Any inroads into what stations they supply? Any eyes-on of their schedules or routes that we could....harry?" She meant attack and destroy but harry was a more cosmetic term.

[Jens Vec]

I finish the rest of the drink quickly, and try to think.

"Well, I'm not sure about the inroads parts, but I did manage to get into a few places and copy some information. A few hangar doors were wide open." I slide a datapad across the table. "Two schedules for bigger cargo vessels and a route for a Corellian freighter that came in for repairs. Don't know any specifics, I did it fast 'cause I didn't know where any of the workers were."

[Estelle Russard]

She took the datapad and perused it in silence, her eyes scanning carefully for anything that flagged her interest.

It all looked rather innocuous, though one could never really tell without knowing specifics.

"This is good, Jens" she encouraged and passed him another datapad in exchange for the one he'd given her. She would try to filter some further intel from it back in the privacy of her room.

"If you can, try to get close to one of the workers. But" and here she paused until he gave her his complete attention, "do not in any way, shape, or form compromise yourself. Remember, an agent is of little use once exposed, and none whatever if dead.

Dont for a minute forget this is not a game you are in."

Jens took the datapad and put it in his pocket as it was clear Estelle was wrapping up the meet.

"Is there anything you need?" she asked him, "money, equipment?"

[Jens Vec]

"No. But, actually, now that you mention the workers, the one guy that bothered to shout anything at me was acting wierd about it. He said kids shouldn't be around the shipyard because of the black ship. It caught my attention because most of the ships I've seen have been white."

[Estelle Russard]

"There's your 'in' then" she advised.

A black ship? What was the signifigance? She pulled at tenuous threads in her memory, but nothing of substance came. Another detail to expore.

"Meet me at the second rendevous in three days from now. 1700 hrs. That should give you enough time to find out some more. If you need me sooner, emergency frequency 32A only."

She stood up, fishing out some credits and leaving them on the table to pay for the coffees.

"Good work Jens."

[Jens Vec]

I stand with her, picking up the plank.

"Thanks. See you around."

I ride it back to my place, determined to make some progress on this guy. Day one is spent just finding him. I catch him leaving his shift, set up a time to talk to him about this "black ship" by being a stubborn teenager. Day 2 I meet him a few times in secret, find out what the black ship is. Then, day 3, he gives me one final, tiny bit of info that kicks me back into gear. This is exciting. No time to clean up, gotta go gotta go, I've got helpful stuff! I bring the plank to a grinding halt outside the cafe where Estelle is waiting.

"Hey. I've got some news!"

[Naomi Lang]

Naomi strolled down a bright sunlit street, thoroughly enjoying the daylight. Being with the Inquisitoriate’s black ops death squad meant that she didn’t get out anywhere near as much as she wanted. Hell, even now the she was supposed to be on the look out for any ‘suspicious’ activity.

The woman tossed a loose strand of hair behind her ear and huffed. Like there’d be anyone taking in the open. Then again local authorities said that their a few plain-clothes officers overheard a few conversations down at the docks where restricted information was thrown around haphazardly. Apparently some idiot dock workers had seen the Rubicon land and were passing around whispers of ‘the black ship’. Annoying, but most likely no one planetside had heard the moniker before.

Whatever it did give the opportunity to see the city and wear ordinary clothes for a change. Naomi was proud of her ensemble, a tight fitting black tank top with matching pants cut short at her ankles, and she had to say, she looked really damn good. Victor may be smooth talking, but sometimes a woman’s charm made it so much easier to get hormonal males to open up.

But now after three days Naomi still got nothing, no out of the ordinary rumors or mention of restricted info. Aside from a few catcalls, the only exciting thing that had happened to her was almost being run over by some punk on an airboard the day before. Hopefully the bugs she’d planted would bring something up. In any case it was about time to head back to base.

[Bren'lar Scothis]

"Ey there. I keep forgetting there's some kind of female organism behind all that gear we wear."

Scothis' voice rang out from behind her, only a few paces. As she turned back to look, she saw he was in civilian attire as well. A black jacket, grey mesh shirt, and slightly baggy black pants with industrial work boots. How he had managed to get that close to her in those steel toed clogs was completely due to his training.

"You find anything?"

[Naomi Lang]

A few years ago Naomi would have jumped at someone sneaking up on her like that. But life as a Nightmare had erased that skittish part of her; still, she’d get back at him the next time they were off duty.

Lang waved a hand in exasperation. “Nothing out of the ordinary, disgruntled pencil pushers, whiny aliens, and a gropy guy that’ll be in a wheel chair the rest of his life.”

She let Bren’lar fall in step with her. Glancing, she caught sight of the heavy boots and shook her head. To anyone else they’d seem like an ordinary couple walking down the street.

“You?”

[Bren'lar Scothis]

"Well, I know you're on your way back, but I was thinking you might be interested in this..."

Scothis held out his comm link, at least the one he had in civilians. It had a small screen on it for displaying images that could be sent from one user to the next. The current image that he was allowing Naomi to see was that of Jerrard standing over the body of some bloodied male human.

"We found one of the workers. Well, I did. Jerrard says he got to him first, but don't believe that crock."

[Estelle Russard]

"Lets walk a bit"

Estelle and Jens moved away form the cafe entrance and strolled casually along the walkway.

Jens was bursting with some kind of news, and Estelle felt it better to give an outlet for some of his excited energy, rather than him trying to sit still and circumspect in one place at the cafe.

"Ok, what do you have?"

[Naomi Lang]

Naomi studied the image with unfeeling eyes; corpses were a common sight in their career. Still, deaths this early on in an op usually meant something unexpected came up. In her minds eye there didn’t seem to be any thing amiss.

“This one of the talkative workers or have you been killing random people again?”

The lieutenant looked back at Bren’lar, slightly jealous that she hadn’t been involved in the action.

[Bren'lar Scothis]

"Hey now, he's not dead yet. Jerrard is the medic remember, that's why I left him with the half dead guy."

He shoved the comm back in his pocket and changed direction at the nearest four way.

"It's not too far from here. We figure we can give IMP a call and have him send some guys over to pick up the guy and we can finish him off later. But of course we wanna' figure out what we can before the guy gets handed over to IMP or the Sir. They always get the juicy stuff and then only share the need-to-know morsels."

He shrugged with a lopsided grin. He wasn't really complaining, but he wasn't going to turn down the oppurtunity. He was pretty sure Naomi wouldn't either.

[Naomi Lang]

"Half dead, Maimed, mauled, shot up, whatever. He's good as dead anyway"

Naomi looked forward to this, it wasn't often that someone other than the Boss got to pry the good info from one of these traitorous stooges. Interrogation may not be part of her specialty, but she was creative enough. Maybe Ylor would have some interesting toys in that kit of his.

Lang through an arm around Bren'lar in a mock choke hold. "Lead the way Mr. Scothis"

[Bren'lar Scothis]

Scothis balked as she put him in the choke hold and grabbed her leg. Instead of flipping her to the ground as the technique went though, he puller her upwards and around, fluidly changing the scenario to him holding her in his arms up off the ground. He set her down in a less than fluid gesture though and tried to hold back the laughter as he spoke.

"You've gained a little weight haven't you?"

He set off at a dead run, laughing, all too sure she was following him. He stopped abruptly though once they reached a particular alley.

"They should be back here."

[Naomi Lang]

Naomi recovered quickly from the slightly jarring landing, a shocked look coating her face. Oh, he did not. A dozen ways to get back at Bren’lar flood through her mind. Maybe rig his locker with explosives, no the major was stilled ticked about the last time she did that. Set a rabid animal loose in his quarters? Oh ho would that get some good laughs. Then again she could just wipe the floor with him the next sparring session.

She took off on his heels. “This from the guy who skips out on the weight room to sit on his rear at the range.” They stopped at a shadowed alley. Despite the beautiful day, Naomi felt more comfortable all of a sudden.

“Should be here? Don’t tell me the great Bren’lar Scothis is lost.”

[Jens Vec]

"Ok. Remember the black ship?" I ask quietly, following her pace with difficulty. I've got too much energy; I keep pulling slightly ahead of her. "It's an Imperial ship. It's got these...these big time people on it. Important people high up in one of the departments. The guy wouldn't be specific, but it's an important ship with important people."

I shrug a little.

"I can try to go get more off him, if you want."

[Y'lor Jerrard]

"Hey, over here. We don't have a lot of time. IMP sent a transport on its way, so we've got like, five minutes tops."

Jerrard stood back farther in the dead end alley, completely covered in shadows. As the other two veterans approached and their eyes adjusted to the dim environment, they could see Jerrard standing over a body that was gasping for breath. Y'lor looked comfortable in a leather sports jacket and casual apparel, his hands were covered in sterile gloves though, setting off the image slightly.

"He's definitely alive. I've just got him... immobilized."

Jerrard had severed a major nerve near the man's kidney with a simple cauterizing laser. They used those kind of things in first aid kits so it wasn't surprising to see someone with one now and then. To see what Jerrard could do with it though was another story.

[Estelle Russard]

She seemed to mull over the information given her, but instead of asking for further details concerning the ship as may have been expected, Estelle focused on the man Jen's had made contact with.

"Tell me about your contact - you believe him reliable?"

[Naomi Lang]

Naomi's anticipation deflated slightly when she saw Ylor holding the laser scalpel thing of his. She’d been planning on playing with that a bit, oh well, she could always improvise.

“Well let’s get cracking then.” Waltzing over to Jerrard she grabbed his field kit and began to rummage through the thing. Bandages……splints…..bacta-pads….morphine….flashlight….oh, syringes. Naomi picked a needle from the case, swirling the clear contents inside.

“What do you have loaded in these?” Naomi figured it’d most likely be painkillers or something, but she hoped that Ylor might have gotten some of the Major’s fun juice…or whatever he called it.

[Jens Vec]

Originally posted by Estelle Russard
She seemed to mull over the information given her, but instead of asking for further details concerning the ship as may have been expected, Estelle focused on the man Jen's had made contact with.

"Tell me about your contact - you believe him reliable?"
"Yeah. He was an honest guy. He was always talking about keeping the people around out of trouble, 'cause of these black ship people. Kept saying he didn't want anybody in trouble or to get hurt or killed. He tried to loan me money to take a public transport from the shipyard, but I turned him down, even though he said I wouldn't have to pay him back."

[Estelle Russard]

Estelle probed further, "Does he have access to any manifests or shipping logs - information of that nature?"

[Bren'lar Scothis]

"Adrenaline."

Y'lor's voice was almost bored.

Bren'lar eyed one of the most dangerous females he had ever met. She could make a bomb out of the simplest things, and when given the right ingredients, she could make better bombs than most governments could boast for. And she could run numbers like a droid as far as area of effect went. Her brutality only attributed to her beauty. Too bad she was military property. It just went without saying that no good came from crossing wires in this business.

Scothis knelt next the body of the man and hit the back of his hand against each side of his face.

"Hey fella', you're one of the good guys, huh?"

Scothis didn't have to be the Sir or Crestmere to pick this one up. He could see the lines in the face, this guy smiled too much. The sweet old man thing rolled off this guy like sludge on a hutt. The amount of stress he was in at the moment set the feeling off though. Jerrard had definitely taken the guy down a notch or two. He looked up to their senior comrade curiously.

"What did you already get out of him?"

[Y'lor Jerrard]

"Plenty. I've watched Helghast pull off enough tactical interrogations and I knew enough about what I had to work with. He needs some time to cool down though, I don't want to send him into shock. But to summarize what I already know...

He's mentioned the 'black ship' to a few people. He was trying to 'save' them from any trouble, telling them to avoid it at any cost. Almost sounds like a smart guy, if you ask me. The fatherly types who only wish well for the kids they see they never had."

The man between them groaned something pathetic.

"But only one person came around actually asking for it. A kid. Supposedly reminds him of his long lost son. A sap story if I ever had one and probably the mistake of this guy's life."

[Jens Vec]

Originally posted by Estelle Russard
Estelle probed further, "Does he have access to any manifests or shipping logs - information of that nature?"

"Yeah, kinda. I feel bad for it, but I went into one of the offices while he went to the refresher and did some snooping. I got some logs real quick; didn't look, but at least one of these should be Imperial. Sorry, I was in a rush."

[Estelle Russard]

Estelle took the logs and leafed quickly through them, scanning them.

"This is good, Jens"

She was actually impressed that he had produced anything of hardcopy at this early stage.

"When do you meet with him again?"

[Naomi Lang]

“Heheh, cry me a river. You get any specifics out of him? The kid’s name, did he give him anything” Naomi tossed the syringe to Jerrard, she turn almost anything into some sort of explosive, but these medical packs where alien. All of a sudden a thought hit her and she began rummaging deeper, probably messing up Ylor’s organizing system.

“How do you think a yokel like this knows about the INQ”

Ha here it is. Lang pulled a cauter from the bag, the tool was used in extreme cases where a bacta patch would do jack squat. She hit the switch on the handle and the brand hummed to life, slowly turning the end a glowing red.

“Maybe this guy’s in with the rebels?” Naomi’s carefree tone of voice audibly darkened, laced with malice. “You can bring him back can’t right?”

[Jens Vec]

Estelle took the logs and leafed quickly through them, scanning them.

"This is good, Jens"

She was actually impressed that he had produced anything of hardcopy at this early stage.

"When do you meet with him again?"

"Uh, later on tomorrow, in the evening, about this time. I wanted to meet again tonight, but he's off duty and had to get home. Why?"

I take a few slower, deeper breaths, and put my palms against my eyes. It helps me match her pace.

[Estelle Russard]

"Good, I will go over these notes and tomorrow I will give you a list of specific things you are to ask him"

Jens could see Estelle's thoughts were moving off, planning what yet still needed to be accomplished. Vec quickened his pace beside her, Estelle noticing brought her attention back to the young agent beside her.

"Meet me at the little appartment noon time tomorrow, and we will go over things." Vec knew the place - a small inconspicuous place located above an oriental restaurant in town.

"In the meantime, do everything as usual. Dont draw any unwanted attention to yourself, or the old man. No more snooping - we'll leave that to your contact. Above all, Jens, be very, very careful"

She gave him a friendly tap on the arm "good work" and then turned off into the crowd, making her way briskly into the enclosing night.

[Jens Vec]

The next day I meet Estelle right on time at the apartment, taking a seat in the main room to wait on her briefing. I'm a little nervous, even though this is basically the same as all the times we planned our little raids on Naboo. This is bigger, and no amount of boiling the situation down to the simplest possible description is gonna make it feel any better for me.

"Okay, so what's going on? I really wanna make sure I get this right."

[Estelle Russard]

Estelle looked up from the datapad, her eyes grey and serious. Jens could tell at an instant that something had happened.

Something had happened and a decision had to be made. And it was not an easy decision at all.


"Take a look at this" she gestured, her voice carefully devoid of concern or alarm, though she felt both.

Their contact, the old man, had been compromised. No, caught was the more truthful term, but in spy-speak it was cloaked in softer words to try to keep emotional equilibrium of agents in the field. Yeah, right. Estelle felt sick. She watched on, however, with a deliberate cool detatchment as Jens read the intel.

Alert, Ophelia.
Recent intercept from Imperial Communication relay, retired code used.
Contact is compromised. Suspect Inquisitoriate involvement.
Query, PROJECT NIGHTMARE?
Strongly Suggest, Proceed as planned.
New objective: Acquire intel on NIGHTMARE Operatives.
end alert.


'Strongly suggest' meant just that. There would have to be a very good reason for the two rebel agents not to proceed. And moral squeamishness was not one of them. The old man was caught. Fact. They could not change that. Rescue was a possibility, but not a priority. They had another imperitive.

The Alliance had heard vague allusions to a special operations force within the Empire. Whispers of its existance, but no hard evidence. No one had really lived to give any solid proof of this branch of the Imperial forces- to give any link to its personell or to its leaders. Who ran it? - Was it even real? There had been many horror stories, and they had perservered which lent a terrible ring of truth to things. This was a chance to know for sure and it was too important to miss. It could not be missed.

And it fell to Estelle and Jens.

Her eyes held fast to Vec as he read and she waited for him to react.

[Jens Vec]

My jaw and fists clench at the news. The Imps caught this old man? Aw hell no. I hate these Nightmare people more than I already did, considering I only just heard of them. I try to calm it down, but it'll be a minute. I look back up at Estelle, just so I won't have to read the word "compromised" on the stupid pad.

"Alright, let's do this. What do you need from me? I'll do anything.

[Estelle Russard]

Her response was almost the complete opposite to Jens' emotionally charged one.
It was not the first time she'd heard of Project Nightmare and her reply reflected that fact.

"You must recognise, Jens, that this is not a routine mission any longer. The individuals we are to gather this Intel on are far beyond the norm. The risks have just increased a hundred-fold. I understand your feelings about the old mans capture, but that cant be your motivation. Mistakes get made like that."

She paused for a moment as if coming to a decision in her own mind.

"We will do what we can, but will not expose ourselves needlessly. Your contact, the old man, has most likely told them all there is to tell. They will be on the look out for you - therefore, you must not be seen. You will be the relay man."

Estelle touched the datapad, bringing up a detailed schematic of the port warehouse and immediate surroundings, where the old man worked and where the rendevous with Jens was to have taken place. She searched for positions where she could safely observe and forward the data and pictures on to Jens. There were precious little to chose from. Jens, in turn, would code and relay the data he received to their Alliance counterpart. In the event of 'worst case scenario' and they should be caught, the data would already be on its way.

She indicated one, then another point where they each would take up station. She on an upper level, Jens off the warehouse grounds completely, but close enough to receive her disguised transmission.

"We need to get in place quickly and then wait. The INQ will be there soon in order to lay their trap. We must get there before them."

She got quickly to the business of organizing the equipment that they would need.

[Jens Vec]

"Okay. Is there anything I can do to help? If not, I'll just study this."

The layout is familiar, but looking at it like this is odd. Estelle sees all the vantage points, cover, and things that a spy would look for. I hadn't noticed any of this; all I see are grind rails, ramps, and half-pipes. I rub my eyes to focus, pushing down the anger and guilt of the old man's death a bit and trying to translate my focus from a skater to a spy.

"This is hard."

[Estelle Russard]

"This is the easy part" Estelle stated flatly. Jens had no idea about hard. If they were to be caught...

A spy could not think of those "if" scenarios. It was too paralysing. They had to think on the things they could control, the things within their power to effect and maneuver. And so Estelle reigned in her thoughts to more useful purpose.

"I will have to adopt the guise of belonging at the wharehouse, a viable excuse for my presence in the hangar, else the Imperials will immediately know something is amiss. I will be doing routine inventory, using the manifests the old man gave you yesterday." She lifted the sheafs of paper and placed them into a satchel. One by one, she added the other equipment in with the papers "surveillance pen-camera with infrared option, high grade antidistortion audio recorder (disquised as a plain hair slide); portable transmitter which attaches to the base of the hand-held datapad she would be using, wire-rimmed glasses (to give her the clerical look), small blaster, nerve-spray (or to uninitiated eyes, a chapstick) and a one-time electric expulsor that could emit a lethal charge along a line of conduction up to fifteen feet in distance.

One of these last she tossed to Jens.
"Take this, the larger datapad for the transmission relay, your blaster and throw on something out of that bag" She pointed to a green duffle over in the corner of the kitchen. "You need to look like anything you are not - a hat and that old coat will give you an air of insignificance, from a distance you might even look like an old man - that might be your best bet. You need to be in place at the diner, here" (she pointed again on the schematic) "Take your time there, drink some coffee then order dinner. They have a betting-tab there for the pod-races and nuna-ball. It is a good cover for you to be monotoring the datascreen."

She turned serious eyes on the young rebel. "Your priority is the mission, Jens. Not the old man, not me. Whatever happens, you do not vere from that directive, you have to get that data out. If things go south, you get the frell out and we meet up here. One agent is a loss. Two agents is a complete failure. Do I make myself clear?"

Jens was green, but his basic training had prepared him for the question. Personal cost was just a part of the committment. If the lines got blurred should things go wrong, this one truth remained - you do the job you've been told to do. That way, everyone knows where everybody else is, and agents aren't running around mistakenly thinking they're dying as heroes.

She repeated herself as Jens seemed to be hesitating, "Jens, are we clear?"

[Jens Vec]

"Yeah...yeah, it's crystal."

I'm looking through the duffle, trying to pick some stuff to work up the old man idea. Some super-beat-up jeans, old flannel shirt, and the brown jacket Estelle pointed out will do the trick. I gather the rest of my equipment and go to change. I come out and grab a baseball cap out of the duffle that I missed on my initial rummaging and put it on. My equipment is hidden on my person, and I feel (at least for now) like I'm ready to do this. I study over the schematic one last time, getting the diner into my memory along with other specifics on the bar.

"Well...whenever you're ready."

[Estelle Russard]

His answer satisfied her.

Jens could not know that Estelle's mind had slipped back to a conversation (http://sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?t=14947)between herself, Dasquian and Grace Van-Derveld regarding Jens Vec's original recruitment. The worry then had been if he was in over his head, his youth making him ill-equiped for such a calling. At this point, that concern never held truer. It was now when Jens would prove his worth. They both would. The stories of the Nightmares frightened Estelle, she was quite honest about it, though she did not voice these sentiments outright to Jens. That would serve absolutely no good.

She smiled now, proud that Jens was rising to the challenge of the duty before them.

"Good. Lets go"

[Karl Valten]

The fading glow of the sun once again brought out the hollow shadows, turning the field of alleys and passages into a shrouded maze. And with the end of the day came an end to the normal activities as workers clocked out and began their hikes home. At the same time, the darker side of society began peeking their eyes from their hiding places, but for some reason, even they seemed fearful to be about.

Naomi raced through the labyrinth effortlessly, faster than the best sprinters and she still wasn't breaking a sweat. And despite being cased from head to toe in heavy armor plating, she made no sound whatsoever. The CMC-400 was an amazing piece of technology, it's dull grey color blended with the shadows, only the ghostly blue from her eyepieces could give her away.

From behind the faceplate, Naomi mentally summoned and overlayed map in a secondary holowindow, while her biometrics, ammo, and armor sensors readings occupied another. With her neural implants the suit did what she wanted at a mere thought. It was like a second skin.

Lang grinned and launched herself into the air, up along a loading crane, she connected with her feet and pushed off again to land on a warehouse roof. Naomi raced along the rooftops to her position.

The old fool had spilled some stuff before Crestmere and the Sir showed up, but a few hours with those two had completly broken the poor man. Indeed he'd been involved in some treasonous business, now the Nightmares would wrangle all of the dissenters up and slaughter them in one move.

"Lang in position." Naomi stopped to a crouch, hidden in the shadows overlooking an intersection of sorts in the tangle of transport ways.

"Scothis in position as well." Naomi's HUD automatically linked with Bren'lar's suit, she found herself able to see exactly what he was seeing.

"No sign of anyone in the area, Base. Holding position for further orders."

[Estelle Russard]

The shaft of light fell to Bren'lars left as the next-to-last of the office workers left for the evening, opening the office door and stepping through it into the upper level companionway. He hadn't shut the door completely behind him and a small sliver of light beaconed out to slice the gloom of the empty warehouse.

The inventory chic had blown off his offer for pizza and beer - the newbies always were a bit frosty towards him, he'd noticed. Something about work to do, paychecks and rent..Lame excuses.

Working methodically at the desk, Russard was aware of how quiet it was in the building - unnaturally so. Something was definitely going down as not even the janitor had made his routine appearance. He could just be late - or maybe he called in sick. Estelle believed it unlikely. His absence only confirmed to her mind that the Nightmares were coming. Or rather, were here and already in place. She'd not heard or seen anything. She pushed her glasses further along her nose, their large frame overpowering her features so you remembered them and not her eyes. She wore a dental bridge that altered the look of her teeth and the structure of her mouth, giving her an apish overbite - unfortunate and intentional. A dirty blond wig and a company shirt and Estelle was not even a whisper of her real image. It was not the most attractive look and she wondered at the office nerd who'd asked her out. He must not have many friends.

Her monitors had picked up nothing unusual either. The young spy feared that her equipment would not match the Imperials in sophistication and that only an "eyes-on" scenario must be implemented. The prospect was not one she relished and had not yet committed to. She carefully increased the range just a notch on her audio equipment.

She would give it more time, see what presented itself.

As she continued to work at the terminal running the warehouse stock manifests she tried not to let her fingers tremble.

[Jens Vec]

I'm sitting at the stupid diner with my arms folded on the table, my head resting on them, with my eyes shut. It's louder in here than I thought it'd be, and it's kinda giving me a headache. I shut my eyes tighter, willing it to go away without much success. My leg's bouncing on it's own accord. I hate waiting.

[Karl Valten]

Naomi stayed frozen to her spot up and out of sight in the shadows. The mezzanine level with it’s stacks of crates sprawled out before her. Her eyes picked up the last worker leaving the warehouse and how close he passed by Sergeant Scothi’s position just outside the overhead lights.

Any other time she would have sighed in exasperation, the waiting always annoyed her. But on the job, she merely noted the time. They were completely different people during a mission; no emotion, no impatience, no humanity, just the soulless eyes of a nightmare. It almost scarred her, but the power was tantalizing.

“Lieutenant, I’ve got a pair moving towards the warehouse, description fits what the old man gave us.” The text scrolled down her HUD, a direct neural interface transmission. Y’lor Jerrard had been assigned observation outside the warehouse, but he was already on the move.

Naomi herself set in motion, silently pulling her C-14 rifle from it’s holster on her pack and double checked her satchel charges. Across the warehouse, she caught Bren’lar’s spider like movement as he scaled the crates to the metal walkway overlooking the ground level.

“Nightmare’s, this is base, Captain Crestmere is on approach. Inquisitor Helghast’s orders are that you not engage until Crestmere has made contact.”

[Estelle Russard]

"Is someone there...?"

Her question echoed lonely in the silence of the warehouse. She wasn't sure if she had heard a footfall, or if she was listening so hard for one that she had anticipated the sound. A creepy finger of anxiety crawled up her spine.

Twisting in her chair so that it swivelled 180 degrees toward the door, she peered toward the crack of dark emptiness exposed by the partly open door.

[Y'roth Helghast]

The entire situation was set up. Crestmere would've been just as comfortable in the role if it hadn't been. If it had been only just devised and the entire crew was improvising as the situation played out, Crestmere would go on unphased. At the moment, he was Dyllan Fubleroth, a kinder old man, working at the docks most of his life, and he was merely going to meet that young nice man he'd been talking to and looking to help and keep out of trouble as requested.

Victor Crestmere was beneath that conciousness he had assumed like a mask over his own, waiting, like a snake ready to strike as soon the prey came within range. His laughter and that of all the other murderers and killers he'd ever assumed the identity of rang in the back of his mind. He didn't even have to do a thing, the rest of the Nightmares would bring their death down on these silly terrorists. For terrorists they were, the old man was sure of it, the Alliance, hallowed be that name, and bless them for misleading the naive and lost to sedition and treason against the peace and security of the Empire.

He tugged his jacket gently, something the old man was known for doing to ensure his clothes fit his frame that he had become ever aware of since he'd begun to age so long ago. Crestmere was flawlessly disguised and it would take a full medical scan to get through the technology at work to make Crestmere's performance fall through.

[Estelle Russard]

Jens receiver crackled and Estelle's voice, so faint he couldnt be certain he heard it, came over,

"Standby"

She had heard someting, this time she was sure, and had gotten up from her desk to investigate.

She was deliberately unstealth-like, allowing her heels to clack naturally on the durasteel flooring.

Moving her head so that her glasses allowed the camera a sweeping view, she leaned forward to look over the walkway railing.

"Oh, hello down there" she said a little nervously. Young women rarely like to be in big dark warehouses all on their own working late at night. "Is there something you need...?"